Thursday, June 30, 2005

Shadow of the Bat.




I used to think that Tim Burton’s interpretations of Batman were the best. Their outlandishness, visual style and pure insanity/fun made them stand out from Schumacher’s (Joel, not Michael) campier capers. Batman Forever wasn’t that bad (it saved the franchise in a way), but Batman and Robin was a bit too much (and I still can’t forgive Clooney for being the Bats). Having Schwarzenegger in it as well was bizarre, though thank God for Uma. Really. Nippled suits aside, we haven’t seen a Batman movie in a pretty long time. Until now.

Batman Begins has a bunch of actors whom you wouldn’t expect to see in a comic adaptation. First off, Gary Oldman as a good guy. Strange. Morgan Freeman as one of the token fatherly figures (!). Michael Caine as Alfred (?!!). I’m not going to talk about Scientology Girl, but she wasn’t that bad, either. Then you have Tom Wilkinson and Cilian Murphy. Strange, how all these actors are known for one thing (except for the one who was on Dawson’s Creek, but she was alright): acting. Which makes it a good movie, no?

Yes. It does. I think having most of the cast and crew be English gives it even more legitimacy. Which proves that once again, when done correct, the British can do it right. Granted, it wasn’t all filmed in England, but it’s got this European feel to it in the first half. (Most probably because it feels that none of it takes place in the States). Oh.

Yea, I know. Christian Bale as Batman. I haven’t left him out; he’s probably the best Bat so far. Though I do miss Keaton.

I loved the movie because it really focused on the Batman-Gordon dynamic that’s been running on so long in the comics. I know that you can’t squash at least 20 years’ worth of stories into a two hour movie, but this was done with aplomb and class. And Batman Begins is just that; a classy movie.

I’m just scared that this onslaught of comic adaptations we’re getting now is going to burn out the whole comic adaptation genre before it’s really picked up. We’re getting Fantastic Four later in the summer, and I’m probably going to watch it for one reason: Jessica. But the thing is, will people get sick of all this? It’s too soon to say. I guess it all depends on the merits of the individual movies themselves. I just hope that we don’t get a burnout. And I can’t imagine Nicolas Cage as Ghost Rider, either.

But Batman Begins is an awesome movie.

“What is the point of all those push ups if you can’t even lift over a bloody log?”

Yes, Alfred.

Monday, June 27, 2005

not the most imaginative title ever (part two).


if anyone would like my second batch of songs (actually, it's something like the fourth batch), please message me or ensure that you have about 20 MB left for your inbox storage capacity. if you're mailing me, please put "solace in her sisterly thighs" as your subject. 8 songs, not too well done, but should be worth at least one sitting. and the total time is 17 minutes, so no worries.

anyway, mondays are a bitch. but it went by so quickly that i really didn't give a damn. lord. i'm running out of things to say. i hope something radar worthy happens to me.

which doesn't involve my car.

which doesn't involve my clothes.

which doesn't involve my hair.

but maybe to me. yes. i'm such a self-conscious, loathsome bastard. who's also quite hungry.

...i'm never going to make new friends like this.

Saturday, June 25, 2005

not the most imaginative title ever (part one).


sometimes i wonder about what the whole point of blogging is, but i always feel better when i convince myself that there is none. this is just something that i do to pass my time, and sharing my thoughts with the world at large is just something that comes natural to me because i like to whine and bitch and moan and grumble about how my life as a lazy suburbanite could amount to so much more if i wanted it to.

which i do, of course.

anyway, i have no idea why i keep a second blog at friendster (of all places), but it's gotten to a point where both blogs have separate entries. there's the random cross-pollenation of one post to the other blog, but both blogs have enough individual material for them to stand on their own. in other words, welcome findfcukforget to the links section. because i really don't know what to rant on tonight that i haven't already done on the other blog. it's as if my exclusive affair with blogspot is over, though looking at the somewhat limited features of friendster's typepad template (i can't get decent paragraphs, hey), i say that the affair is far from dead.

funkyhippopotamus shall always be my first (blogging) love. i sound twisted, i'm sorry.

Friday, June 24, 2005

pointless Q of the day #1


were kl's bus lanes initiated to keep motorists out, or more importantly, buses in?

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Six legs, two dicks, good luck.




Click here for the full skinny.

Blessed is this dog.

Cute is this dog.

Strange is this dog.

It's a freak, yes.

But what a cute one!

Now get it away from me.

planet telex.


4 nights ago, i did 100 crunches. my abdomen still hurts. i can't really sneeze without making it sore. i can't really stand up without hunching to ease myself more. in other words, i'm getting too damn old for this.

yesterday, i followed wan ling to 1 utama to find her boyfriend a birthday gift. i settled on giving myself an ear piercing. i don't know why.

last night, i completed downloading the radiohead discography, with the exception of amnesiac.

today, i trudged to college and tied cans together with nylon. tedious. but satisfying. we will not be making a giant bunga raya; we will, instead, be making a gigantic jalur gemilang. it makes everything so much easier.

right now, i'm shite bored. all i want to do is lie down and give excuses for procrastinating on my priorities.

but i have none. so i'll just procrastinate, anyway.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

We love candor! (The Tai Defender, Part One).


Re: Anonymous poster from below. I must defend my (shrinking) manhood. My (withering) virility has been challenged. For you have posted a constructive comment.

Oh, no.

I'm not gonna retract a post that seriously detriments the status of my credibility. (Can "detriments" be used as a verb?...is it even a word?...another prime example of daftness.)

My life would reek of a total lull of entertainment if I did that.

I'm too stupid for that. Let the world read about the fool I am.

The last retraction took place when I posted pictures of nubile young girls that I'd love to know and then May Ann got offended.

It conflicted with the name of this blog. A word that I've tried to live up to for so long now.

I am a drama queen. Or king. It's not meant to be a gender specific thing, is it?

(How right you are).

On the serious side, my intentions of "apologizing" were very clear. After hearing me whine and bitch about her for so long, it was time to put a stop to it. And bringing her back into the discussion seemed to be a good thing. Having the (lack of) sense to do so seemed apt. Because, my friend, we're not going to be talking about Hannah unless she marries Vas (which I hope I get an invite for...I also would like to perform for the wedding gig). Or unless she gets me the MakePovertyHistory wristband I want (if anyone wants to get me one, my address is No. 23, Jalan Desa Seputeh 4, 58000 Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia).

No, it was about The Alarmists' Pinnacle. And you, yourself, might have been there in that position, worried sick over nothing, mulling over the details of your profoundly sordid relationship, commiserating with your friends over how nothing went your way and how she didn't understand you and how she made you whimper and welp like a little puppy dog wanting more each time you had copulation and how good it felt.

Or it might even have been a he.

(For the record, again, I have nothing against homosexuals; and at least some of the girls I know ((definitely not all)) do know what's good for them).

I don't want to know.

This blog is about me. Good ol' fat and balding me. That's right, my hairline's receding. Let's see you lay a claim to fame.

(Sorry. That really was the best I could do for now).

Go blog your isues about people who'd like to move on with their lives somewhere else (who enjoy sharing it with the world, no less) and give me the address and I'll kindly comment. I promise to be prompt.

Lord. There's too much parenthesis here.

Now, shoo. I have to take a dump.

The Alarmists’ Pinnacle.


Shortly before Hannah and I broke off all those many moons ago, I had willingly turned my relationship with her into something that I never thought I’d be able to do: an alarmists’ parody. I would wait diligently by the computer for her to come online (sometimes for hours), I would call Coventry and hope to reach her in the early reaches of the morning, and I would continually confess my undying love for her. Repeatedly. On the blog, online, via sms…name it. So, first and foremost, Kex, I am sorry. For being overly “concerned” about the alcohol consumption (though I would pay good money to see you red-faced), about letting in a totally platonic guy friend in at 2 in the morning (and I’m actually being sincere here), and for acting like I didn’t trust you. I know that these are hardly the reasons why you decided that I couldn’t father the unborn children we were meant to have and find a happy ending of our own, but I’m apologizing here anyway because:-

  1. It’s so much funnier
  2. There could be girls reading this and the sincerity might touch them enough to contact me (ladies, my contacts are on the right, yea)
  3. I’ve seen myself in my own eyes tonight.

A certain friend of mine was the prime example of an alarmist tonight. I’ve never really realized that she’s had the same relational issues all the time until just now. It’s been one mean vicious (sickening) cycle. And the worst part is, realizing that you were like that…the whole thing about how you want someone to do right by you is silly. Because you have to do right by yourself. Space and time…? Grant it. For the two of you. Self-inflicting yourself with paranoia and worry and endless, endless self-loathing isn’t the way to go.

It something fucks up, it’s really God’s will. I’m not saying this in a Jehovah’s Witness context, but in all honesty, if you’ve willed something to not work beyond redemption, it’s really your own fucking fault. And there’re three things that you can do.

Leave it alone.

Fix it.

Screw it up further.


I think that we always fall into this pit of despair sometimes when “relationships” don’t go our way. And we fail to realize that endlessly obsessing over our “status” isn’t helping; it’s just making it worst. False worries. Insecurities rising. It’s a pity that we can’t sit back, relax and say “it’s okay” whenever we feel low. And the worst part is knowing that you’re at a low ebb and willing to drive the stake through the heart further in the hopes that you “send a message”. Yes. A message.

That we’re forever indebted to those we propose to love? That we’re willing to push as hard as we can to make it work? I guess that we don’t really have to tell them this; if they really felt for us, they’d already know it. Sometimes no effort is better than too much. Blowing things out of proportion isn’t a great thing. We become cannon fodder for bad jokes. We become conversation topics. We become irritating.

We become the very thing we’d hope not to become: amusement. At our own expense.

We were not born drama queens. Pity, though, that we become them without realizing it. Some of us crave the attention. Some of us want everyone else to know that we’re in need of…need. In retrospect, I feel bad about what I did. The whole obsessive thing isn’t me. Granted, I do obsess over getting the girl. I obsess over what makes me want her. But I don’t want to obsess over what I want when I’m with her, because that’d blind me from what made me want her in the first place. I don’t want to obsess over things like the “status” of a relationship.

I’m a guy. The whole “obsessing” concept is purely, purely a chick thing.

I should worry more about whether she’s wearing the thong I gave her for her birthday. And when she’ll let me see her in it. Well. It wouldn’t be that bad, but…

For fuck’s sake, we should all just lighten up when it comes to this.

I don’t want to be an alarmist anymore. I want to have fun. Clean, wholesome fun. Talk from dawn to dusk. Hold hands and eat ice cream. Snog when no one’s looking. Snog when everyone’s looking. Let her worry about what she wants, because, in the end, I’d know that I’d just really, really dig her and she shouldn’t have to worry in the first place.

(Shucks. I’d love to meet this guy.)

We complicate things. Something between two people should never have to be explained. It should only just happen.

We overplay things. We assume that everyone cares.

We obsess over minor details. The trivial is important, but we forget about the spark that ignited it all.

I believe in love. I believe in chemistry. I also believe that chemistry leads to love. And that love leads to greater things. But I feel sorry for the fact that we’re always willing to do “everything”. We try too hard; thus, we fail.

I’ll try my best to loosen up. I’ll try my best to lighten up. I do not want to act like the chick who reads the self-help relationship guides. We don’t need those. We don’t need to be insecure. Finding someone itself is half the battle won. And having that someone wanting to be with you solves the whole problem.

I’ll try my best never to be at the alarmists’ pinnacle again.

Saturday, June 18, 2005

It’s A Long, Long, Road.


With ever a winding turn, no less. The Return of the Dada has since become one of his better trips back in recent memory, and for the life of me, I can’t really tell why. Granted, I still don’t know how I’d survive with my father staying at home full-time, and I don’t think that I’d like it very much, but having him back on a timeshare basis isn’t that bad. The final revelation (we have a lot of these on his second last day left) when we went out to dinner last night:-

He’s coming back for good in November. There will be no extensions. He wants to add more life to his years. He'll come back, and do what he’s always wanted to do for a while now…nothing. And when he comes back, it’s going to be a whole other ballgame.

But I won’t worry about that for now.

My papers for this semester are over. It’s freedom for 3 weeks or so, with the exception of doing some BIZ Council work in college. But besides that, I suppose that it’s going to be free and easy. Or something that resembles that particular state of mind that I’ve been wishing for, these last few weeks. The good thing is, with my father back, I actually did make a conscientious half-effort to revise my work. And, in a feeble way, it paid off. Yesterday’s Project Management paper was one of the best papers I’ve sat for in ages (but the truth is, I still didn’t have time to finish it). I won’t bore you with the details; no worries. This is not an academic’s blog (as you can see from the last post, with it being a total embarrassment).

So. This month, I can try my best to take Nicole out for lunch and prove to her that I’m not that bad, read those Star Wars comics that are overdue on reading, complete Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, finish off a long list of games and sleep. All in a month’s work, no? And I can make the occasional appearance in college to make Lena happy.

And so, we’re here again at a crossroad. My father leaving has yet again, made me a sentimental cad. I guess that I can’t help going through the paces; first, the utter surprise, then the vehement loathing, and then, the quiet remorse. I don’t hate my parents (that’d be rude), but…I like to think that I have some unresolved issues with them. Y’know…that time I caught my father and his mistress in bed together (which is just funny now, from whatever angle you see it from…figuratively, not literally), and my mother, the drama queen who borders on raving neurotic so often that it borders on being a little too close for comfort?

Yes, well. All these things are open to debate. I have faith in my own husbandly duties and parenting abilities in the future that I won’t have to make it rain for my child. No. I’d probably engage the hippy parenting so well displayed by Sandy Cohen and be the loyal husband, loving father and all-round lovable lug. Yes. That will be me.

Coz lord knows I’m not that right now.

A long road? You betcha.

Thursday, June 16, 2005

"Keep Up The Good Work!"


I came across my old report cards from GiS. It basically runs along the same lines.

Sample the following:-

In the world of business:
Year 9 (or your Form 3 equivalent)
He always works well in class, but assessment results do not indicate this” – Mrs. Ng, Elementary Accounting, Term 2, March 1997 (Exam percentage – 58)

“…he would make better progress with a more conscientious approach. More effort is desirable” – Mrs. Ng, Business Studies/Economic, Term 3, June 1997 (Exam percentage 42; Year average – 65)

In getting to know the world in Geography:
Year 8:
“…did not achieve his potential this year due to poor time management, poor organisation and a lack of commitment” – Mr. Sutter, Term 3, July 1996 (Exam Percentage – 73; Year average – 71)

Year 9:
“…struggles to meet deadlines and produces work that is sometimes incomplete. He needs to focus on organisational skills and reading his major texts in order to improve his level of attainment. A much bigger effort is needed in class and at home” – Mr. Whitaker, Term 2, March 1997 (Topic Tests, coursework and homework: All Ds. Term Grade – D)

“A capable student with potential to do well in this subject at IGCSE level. Preparation for the recent examination needed to be more detailed. Always polite, friendly and works well” – Mr. Clynt Whitaker, Term 3, June 1997 (Exam mark – 55; Year average – 53, Term Grade – C)

This is Art.
Year 8, Term 2, April 1996
- Effort: A
- Conduct: A
- Term Grade: A
- Examination Mark: 75


Year 8, Term 3, July 1996
- Effort: A
- Conduct: B (I think it was the Richard Marx cassettes I’d put on)
- Term Grade: B


Year 9, Term 2, March 1997
- Drawing from observation: 2 (that means good)
- Effective use of materials: 2
- Research and develop ideas: 2
- Evaluation of artwork: 2
- Effort in class: 2
- Commitment to course: 2
- Completion of work: 2


Year 9, Term 3, June 1997
Exam Percentage – 80%
Year Average – 64%
Term Grade: 2
- Drawing from observation: 2 (that means good)
- Effective use of materials: 2
- Research and develop ideas: 2
- Evaluation of artwork: 2
- Effort in class: 3
- Commitment to course: 2
- Completion of work: 2


At this point, I think I would’ve been happy with doing Art for the rest of my life.

Blowing things up in Science:
Year 8:
“Foo Hing can do better than this result”.
“Foo Hing can achieve higher marks with effort”.

- Miss Usha Nair, for Terms 2 and Terms 3

Year 9:
“…has the potential to do much better. He has to acquire some serious working habits”.
- Mrs Louis, for Term 2.

Apparently, I was a “joy” to teach in P.E. and I/T. And now, the round-up. The summation of two semesters from two years. We had the same class tutor for 4 years. God Bless Miss Kaur; she was young and hip. And then she got preggers. Sigh.

Term 2, 1996: “I am pleased with Foo Hing’s progress this term. With greater confidence and participation, I believe he can achieve much academically and socially. Keep up the good work, Foo Hing!”

Term 3, 1996: “Overall, Foo Hing has made good progress in most of his subjects this term. He interacts well with his classmates and is a pleasure to have in the tutor group. Keep up the good work, Foo Hing!”

Term 2, 1997: “Excellent progress has been made this term. However, I am concerned with Foo Hing’s performance in Geography. He is not achieving the standard of which he is capable of as in his other subjects. Therefore he must make every effort to improve in this subject next term”.

Term 3, 1997: “Foo Hing has progressed well in some subjects this term. However, he needs to put more focus on subjects that he finds difficult mastering and to ensure that he is well-prepared for his examinations. All the best in Year 10!”

Life went arguable downhill from there. My IGCSEs were awful; I managed to attain more than decent forecast results from my mocks, but my finals put me down significantly. I suppose that this is a long term lesson of sorts…or another case of a leopard never really changing its spots. I guess I didn’t have much faith in being a studious kid; I know I still don’t have it.

Asking yourself “what’s the point?” at 14 is fatalistic. Still, I suppose that I didn’t really want to slave away, and just wanted to have fun. A wee bit too much…? I still do. Ah, the past has caught up to me again. Private education. Where everything’s sugar coated. I bet they really wanted to say how fucking daft I was (translate that to “concerned” in the report cards). And they probably did. Just that they were probably scared that my dad would have sued their asses. Irony is, he probably would’ve agreed with them.

Oh, well. Onwards and upwards.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Is This What They Call Love On A Saturday Night?


No, probably because it’s a Tuesday night. The trial never got off; apparently my mother’s side couldn’t come up with a response to my father’s affidavit, and the case has once again been postponed to November. Cheers to that. An anti-climax, I’m sure. If both sides were prepared, I would’ve love to have sat in to listen to the arguments. I suppose that it would be a lot more civil than what I have in mind, but knowing my parents, any signs of civility would be gone after 15 minutes of deliberation. There’s just no fun in it.

If the trial had gone on as proposed, I really do wonder who would’ve won. According to my father, my mother allegedly wants over a million bucks from him. According to my mom, my dad is allegedly stating that she has property all over the place. Who do you trust?

No one, I guess. Lies. Fabrications. My parents are masters of exaggeration; far better than I am, that’s for sure. And that’s saying a lot. As usual, my father has decided to leave Kuala Lumpur and abandon me at this most pivotal moment: right before my holidays start. I truly was looking forward to spending some quality time with the geezer, since my bitch of an aunt keeps on asking him to help her out with her burgeoning political career. Or lack of.

This might sound awfully oversensitive, but I fucking need my father much more than she does. I mean, shit…if she makes bad choices in life now, she should be responsible for them as opposed to dragging people into her problems. I honestly hope I don’t become her; a spoilt woman who can’t boil her own water (we use one of those electric boiler/keeper units, by the way…just a press of a big, round “boil” button).

Everything's Not Lost (my ass).
My Coldplay Live 2003 DVD isn’t working. The music CD is alright, but...I mean…shit. The fucking thing was original. As in non-bootlegged. As in I spent RM 67 on it. Granted, it was a year ago, but this teaches me a few things. Firstly, to watch any non-bootlegged DVDs more often [where’s my Life of Brian?], and secondly, not to buy anymore non-bootlegged DVDs. Yes…that’d do.

Jacko!
Yea! He’s free! I don’t understand why people don’t want him out. Honestly, dodgy testimonies from the schemer

and her sons weren’t doing any good for anyone. He might be guilty. But for now, he's been given that second/third/fourth chance that everyone wishes that we had. All he has to do is pay the banks back their hundreds of millions of quid and he's really the Second Coming.

Get on with it.
Relationship Marketing in 9 and a half hours. Joy. The past few nights have been spent with eating a can of tuna [in vegetable oil] in the wee hours of the morning. It felt liberating until I realized that it was also quite unhealthy. Life is peachy (but don’t tell my parents I said that).

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Le Divorce.


8 hours from now: my advanced statistics final. I’m obviously not ready for it. Hah.

8 hours from now (and a bit later): the final showdown between my parents. Two crazy people with everything to lose.

Who’s going to triumph? The academic system of Mr. Tai? Mr. Tai or (the soon-to-be-former) Mrs. Tai?

Who cares?

Brilliance.

Saturday, June 11, 2005

It's not 90210.




Justin and I stumbled upon this whilst searching for this place which served deliciously massive helpings of Tandoori chicken a few weeks back. After a long search, we found it on the other side of the area where we saw this road sign. Though, arguably, this picture is priceless. If you ever happen to go to Ampang, you’ll find this road. Literally translated to “Pimping Road”, the surrounding area does serve up the idyllic picture of such a location.

On and Thru for Next Year.



Hello. I’m Steven Gerrard. This is my good friend, The Cup.

I’d like to say a few things:

  1. Bollocks to you who thought that we couldn’t get through.

  2. Bollocks to you who thought that we couldn’t win it.

  3. Bollocks to you who thought that we couldn’t defend it.

Scrummy, init?

Danger!! High Voltage!! (Part One)




why...hello, Keong. your imbalanced man-boobs are BIG. mighty impressive. and check it out...do i see a hint of erect (yet mightily disproportionate) nipples? holy cow. my friends. mad, they are. this was taken at the university of sydney, in march of this year during the SUAMS orientation. i have no idea what he was thinking.

it's all good fun in australia.


more about the picture (tho lord knows why you'd be curious):
according to keong, his friend was trying to "prop" up his left "boob", due to it sagging. as a result, his friend molested him somewhat, and keong, in all his queer eye glory, slapped his friend and said in his gayest tone,

"hey...don't touch me!"

hey...true story.

Friday, June 10, 2005

X and Y.




01. Square One
02. What If?
03. White Shadows
04. Fix You
05. Talk
06. X and Y
07. Speed of Sound
08. A Message
09. Low
10. Hardest Part
11. Swallowed in the Sea
12. Twisted Logic
13. ‘Til Kingdom Come

First off, I loved Parachutes. Secondly, I loved A Rush of Blood to the Head. And it was good to know that X and Y follows the sophomore album more than the debut…but at the same time, I miss the fact that Coldplay really were an indie band at heart. This album sounds mega. It’s big. And in some instances, it’s fresh. It’s lush. But at the same time, it’s really missing a heart of sorts. Parachutes had lots of heart. And it was cool. A Rush of Blood was mega in the sense that it was so much bigger. You had these gigantic aural soundscapes. X and Y isn’t all that impressive as an evolution of the Coldplay sound. But, at the same time, since all Britrock bands started doing the Coldplay thing (ala Athlete and a thousand other bands along with it), it’s good to know that Coldplay are once again at the top of the heap.

Where else would they be?

Coldplay haven’t really outweirded themselves as they did on A Rush of Blood. It’s been already known that they’ve lifted inspiration off Kraftwerk (whose songs I’ve never heard of in my life, so I can’t be bothered), amongst others. I find half the album good, and the other half, well…not quite good. But it’s all doable, and you know, you are going to buy this anyway, simply because it’s a Coldplay album. And Coldplay, friends, equals cool. I can’t say that you belong to a higher pantheon of society by purchasing a Coldplay album. You don’t really impress girls much. And you might come off as a bit pretentious to your friends. But take it from me, the master of pretentiousness…Coldplay are cool. Go tell your mums about it.

Ian’s favourite tracks (which he hopes everyone else will like, therefore not pigeonholing him as an army of one):-

Hardest Part
Swallowed in the Sea (has taken over from Fix You as my favourite track, basically because it’s so corny but sweet)
‘Til Kingdom Come (it’s intriguingly acousticfied)

Ian’s second batch of favourite tracks (aka mega-sounding songs):-
Fix You (it was on The O.C., but more importantly, it’s not bad at all)
Square One (I have to admit, it’s a cool opener)
What If?
White Shadows (attitude-laced).

The former list sound organic (think along the lines of Green Eyes). While the latter list continues the whole Coldplay gone mad idea. Please note that I think Speed of Sound is utterly plain.

So great. More rock music that’s taken an experimental edge (damn those Stereophonics). Music is either going mad, or retro (think U2 or Oasis).

Ah. Blog space filled.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

freak yourself out.


lunch went well...? i don't know. i suppose that the hard part is over. what happens now is suspense. and i don't even know how to burst the bubble to know. joy.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

God didn't create us with RAM to spare.


i don't like talking about sex with my father. it's uncomfortable, and rather hillarious. today, we had a short chat about the social side of things. i suppose that having him ask about my sex life so bluntly was hillarious...it certainly did seem that way. and let's not forget, the whole point of it was to ensure that i was using condoms. from talking about relationships, to who i'm going out with (i spared him the details of my neurotic worries about lunching someone).

"do you have cravings for women?"

that is a fucking funny way to put it. i love my dad. though i don't admit it. anyway, i doubt that he's going to remarry. as he put it...why should he? at the same time, he recommended that i move to taiwan once i get my degree to set up some contacts. who would i stay with? well...my potential stepmother, of course. not that there's anything wrong with it...the last time i checked, her son was in a company that dealed in handhelds and cellphones. oooeerrr...can we say free stuff, everyone? but in all seriousness, next week might be a bitching week.

my parents' hearing is on monday. and i have my exams. which i'm not properly prepped for, at all. heavenly, isn't it? i suspect that the reemergence of irresponsibility on my part could be attributed to the return of the dada...it's quite possible. on the bright side, i think i'm on better speaking terms with my father now. other than the fact that he is a liar. or an extravagant joker. whichever way you look at it.

it's a tuesday. exams in less than a week. i have lunch with her tomorrow. things are looking bad and good all at once. one can only hope, yea?


heavy heavy rotation: "fix you", from coldplay.

i don't care what the fans say...x and y isn't as listenable than a rush of blood... was. but gems to be found, there are...and this is one of them. again, i say...it's a fabulous song. on the bright side, the new jamiroquai album is...as usual...funky. dynamite. indeed. haven't really gotten into oasis' don't believe the truth as yet. will do so soon.

curse the torrents. they're being filtered out.

Saturday, June 04, 2005

there's something wrong with me.

Disorder Rating

Paranoid: LowS

chizoid: Low

Schizotypal: High

Antisocial: High

Borderline: Moderate

Histrionic: Very High

Narcissistic: High

Avoidant: Low

Dependent: High

Obsessive-Compulsive: High

URL of the test: http://www.4degreez.com/misc/personality_disorder_test.mv

URL for more info: http://www.4degreez.com/disorder/index.html

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

three simple things (part two).


i'm out of my element. i think i've spent so much time rubbing my face in front of people everyday that i've forgotten the time when i used to do this with some subtlety, finesse, and care. i really would love to get to know her better, but i think i might've over-ian'd it as opposed to over-foo'd it. there is a difference between the two. i'm not going to go into details here, but i might've shot myself in the foot today. there's only so much that i can do, i guess. i can only hope that i made some sort of impression.

brightside? she really seems to be someone i'd love to know.

downer? i might've screwed up before even getting ahead.