I cannot decide if i like Adam Gregory better or
ADAM GREGORY BETTER.







I choose both.

I swear, this is what major examinations does to me. I go slighty crazy from the lack of social interaction, the excessive staring at pictures of the human anatomy and the chemical formulas.

O Levels is officially dead from tomorrow. I totally know how Weiqing feels. The entire holiday is gonna be a WorryFest. I promise you, i can count the number of careless mistakes i made ONE BY ONE and i can shove in into my own face and bawl about it. I can obsess about the stupid mistakes i made and the dumb Rformula i DID NOT LEARN but i shant do that.
I can extract every single error and tear myself up but yknow what.

There has totally got to be more to life than this.


I think im gonna get over myself and ITS GONNA BE A PARTAYE IN THE PHUKETAYE.

YEASHH IM GOING TO PHUKET.

The awesomest thing about Phuket is how everyone pronounces it funny and it makes hilarious conversation topic.

At Home

Markie: Eh eh eh jie what are we doing in pui-keet

Me: (peals of laughter)

Meimei: Pui-keet!!

Grandpapa: Its Bhu-kit, boy.

Me:(peals of laughter)

Meimei: BHU-KIT!!

At school

Me: Im going to Phuket on the 14th, baby!

Weiqing: No no, its Foo-Ket.

Me: No, its PHU-KET.

Weiqing: Yeah right. Then why do they say PHone? HUH? Its obviously Foo-Ket.

Although i totally believe its Phuket. As in (POO-KET)
What make me right though?

Maybe it is Foo-Ket. Even if it does sound awful.


I need to go and run and do some chemistry for the last paper tomorrow. Cant seem to sign on to Stomp's Campus Talkback cause my commmies totally banking. Nat says it an awesome place to visualise a hazy grading curve cause people go there to comment on the papers.



I do actually think its a rather long shot. The people who are gonna be at the most voluptuous part of the curve probably wont spend their precious hours on Stomp.

Neither, will they spend their time imagining about Phuket and shopping and sleepovahs and watching Ty kiss Annie in 90210 and sweeping the internet for pictures of Josh Duhamel.


Yeah.
But whatever.

Im reading Eternity Is Temporary by Bill Broady and it is probably the RETROEST, INDIE-EST, VINGATEY, COOLEST BOOK EVER.

And to think i stumbled upon it BY CHANCE at the Pansing Warehose sale. (which was kinda cool, the food was really good. i ate and ate and ate. though i couldnt find Gereld Durrell or Neil Gaiman but the food plus the unexpectedly spectacular book by Broady made it all better)

Monica Yeeyee brought me cause shes the buyer for Kino and shes all chummy with the insiders of the Book World and she moves around in their social circles.

She gets all these exclusive invites to warehouse sales where everythings all cheap and GUESS WHO GETS TO TAG ALONG?


ME.
(That was rhetorical. I just want to rub it in.)

So anyway tomorrow is Liberation Day and i cannot WAIT.

MUAH XOXOXO

TIME FOR TORRES

Hey hey looky ! Once again i've done my old trick of, not only blogging when i dont have TIME to be blogging (or searching perversely and obsessively for pictures of what is probably the cutest football player of all time at any rate), oh no, but also not working on the thing that i should OBVIOUSLY be working on.

You officially have to have a special kind of skill to be as rubbish as i am.


Oh, count the freckles. One, two.. cute.. cant
make.. it.. floppy.. hair.. eyes..




Mm. Cutesy beachshorts



Rawr. Tatoooo boy.




My eyes are getting blistered. Notice the subtle hitch of the shirt.
And the careful turn of his head.

It fantabulousgorgeousness.




Does this not say Sacha Baron Cohen?

Yes yes, it does.

He is disturbingly, devashatinggly, dashingly, distracting.

Marriedly so, though.

The hot ones almost always are.

Married or gay. Or homosexual or transexual.

Quote of day:

I believe that if you keep hurling crap at the environment, sooner or later it's going to throw something back.

Dr Ng

What Is The Point

What I have so realised is that it is during bus rides that things strike me the hardest.

I should write a book examining the relationship between Revelations and Bus Rides and call it Revolutionary Ride Revelations.

But i digress.

On the bus home from Novena i was thinking What Is The Point.

Of breathing of talking of loving of being rich of being poor of planting of living of dying of reproducing of animals of insects of football of homework of exams of university of tennis of sports of Presidents of being a freaking developed country with people involved in primary or tertiary or secondary sectors of technology of globalisation; of anything at all.

Of Social Studies of Democracy of Autocracy of Meritocracy of Communism of war of peace of Shakespere of tangents of cosecants of esterification of chemistry of working or money of beaches of beauty of marriage of Biology of Meiosis and functions of the liver and of the stomach and of the cerebellum and the nervous system and of sunsets and of time.

What Is The Point of all this?

I suddenly couldnt answer myself and i got increasingly frustrated.


I turned to the Bible. Of all the painstakingly memorised verses from the years of catechism class and bible quizzes only Ecclesiastes came to mind.

And let me tell you, he goes on and on about how Everything Is Meaningless.

In fact Ecclesiastes 1:2 goes something like:

"Meaningless! Meaningless!" says the teachers. "Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.


Brilliance, i thought.

I could hear a couple chattering away shamelessly about Jen-somthing who was so very scandalous and Ben-something who was even worse. I tried to block them out but they were being extremely loud.

This made me very annoyed. Could they NOT talk about these insignificant things, and about Ben-whatever and Fan-whatever when here i was, trying my best to make sense of the utterly nonsensical world?


I thought harder.
I thought about how there had to be people who felt the same way as me, and i was rather comforted by that thought. I probably wasnt the only crazy one.

There has to be a religion, a band of people who believe that the World Is Meaningless and There Is No Point. I could research on it right now, but i shant because i am supposed to be studying.

I think they are called Atheists.


My musings were interrupted by a Beautiful Man who had boarded the bus.

Now a Beautiful Man differs, if only slightly, from a Sexy Male and a Hot Boy and a Marry Man.


A Beautiful Man is a man who is no doubt the most handsome and delicious man in the whole entire universe. One does not find a Beautiful Man just anywhere, and when you do, it is a rarity and a sight to behold.

This particular Beautiful Man had a tatch of brownish black hair and was painfully goodlooking. All the men in the bus cowered in sheer insignificance when his glorious self graced us with his presence. He had on a white, striped shirt, complete with cuffs and all.

And these cute brown pants.

In his hand he held a black breifcase, which contrasted heavily with his light skin tone.

He was probably around his twenties and this i could tell, entirely from his side view. (which was breathtaking btw)

He was British. And i love the British because they have awfully pretty accents.

Not that i was staring, but i mean everyone was. So whatever.


And then it was like a glimmering ray of white light had shone down in front on me. I understood now! The Point of Life, was most obviously, Beautiful Men. I rejoiced in my discovery for brief moments before i shook myself out of the stupor of Hedonism.

Of course that was only a temporary lapse in judgement. Yknow. Blinded by the Beauty.

(Eurghh i am so shallow sometimes)


Then i thought about how if i didnt get my Geog right i wouldnt do well for my Olevels next week and NO BODY would care if i kept chanting What Is The Point and being relentlessly struck by useless and completely random thoughts.

Sometimes i think my head is abit screwed up and nothing LINKS in there. Everything is a mass exodus of rapidly moving Wild Things covered in soap so I cant grasp anything for more than 2 seconds.

And if I do it slips out of my hand and melts into the confusion.



I am SO confusing.

Trying to elucidate things only makes me even more confused. Nothing is ever resolved.

Like how no one gets how Britian's NHS system is obviously a little bit Communisty and how LKY is a meanie. (And that RHYMES. I mean seriously. How convincing am I.)

Yeah i know he rocks because he seriously had the glorious forsight and the fantastical intelligence which made Singapore what it is today, but that doesnt change the fact that he is a meanie.


I wish O Levels would be over soon and my brain will be filled with Non Academic Things like sunglasses and big nice Summer hats and Prom Dresses and Phuket with the Bings and KotaK and Dresses and Surfing and French and Fun Things and History Boys and Bowling and Tennis and inane thing like my revelations which i would have the time to research exhaustively on.

OLevels is SUCH a time hogger.


Plus i wont have to ridiculously mug for Sciences and Humanites on Halloween when every single party place in Singapore is gonna be heated up by masses in cool costumes and my sister is going TrickorTreating and my brother is wandering around in Blissful Aimlessness, trying to sign up for Maplestory.


I know. I am so hypocritical sometimes.

I mean what is Van-something and Dan-whatever's scandalousness to my brainless and utterly insignificant thoughts?

Alright you little couple, go on talking about Panny and Danny if it makes you happy.



And this is me, signing off as i dive into my illuminating textbook of Earth Our Home, a Geography Elective.

SEEYAAAAA

HOLD ME DOWN
AND I'LL CARRY YOU HOME
-Augustanaaaaa <33

When You're Sixteen

I've just turned 16.
I must say, being 16 is highly anti-climatic.

Everyone in the house is asleep and im listening to my own click-clacking of the keyboard, it sounds so pretty Especially when it's quiet, i reckon.

I think blogger got fixed somewhere along the way, just when i was deciding to switch to LiveJournal. It's awesome there how you can tell people how you're feeling with all those retarded emoticons.

And the cool icons! Livejournal is SEXIER THAN YOU, BLOGGER.

I miss blogging. I cannot think why i stopped for so long. I must keep going, this is so liberating.

16 is a pretty wicked age to be, actually. But i dont feel much difference, unless you count that i suddenly acquired temporary double-eyelids. Its actually the most exciting thing to wake up and have your eyes all pretty staring back at you. But they didnt pop out at 12am, they came visiting 5 days ago and havent left since. Im hoping they take up permanent residence.

My retarded, lovely parents switched off my study lights while i was busy replying Terry's birthday msg and doing my math paper (is something wrong with me? is is normal to be doing math papers when you turn 16? i dont know) and brought a beautiful candle into my room.

I blew it out as they wished me a Happy Sweet 16th.

Mom: Hello darling, happy birthday!
Me: Ehm, you guys, thats so sweet!

(upon turning on the lights, i discover that they have given me a pretty pink box)

Mom: Yeah but i want it back.
Me: The present?
Dad: No, silly, the box.

Heh. I love my mama. They gave me this ridiculously adorable card from Ivans or sommat like that and wrapped 2 50 sing dollar notes up and 2 US 50dollar notes. IN FREAKING CLEAR WRAP.

Like the kind we use to wrap books. It was all very surreal. My parents are reeeetarded.

And the card ended somthing like : And heres two 50 US dollars for you to use (and i thought DAMN WE'RE GOING TO USA THIS YEAR SHEEEEEEEEEET)... WHEN WE GO.. SOON.

XD But it was so awfully sweet of them. My parents are the bestest parents ever.

Man.
I cannot believe im sixteen still.

Its rather disturbing.

Im also tryna lose some weight, but if theres one thing you must do if you want to lose weight is NOT BE ME.

Because i cannot lose weight. Its either my aunty cooks food which is too yummy to resist, or my moma buys PercyPig from Marks and Spencer and HOHO it goes in a flash (because PercyPig is my Achilles heel, dammit), or i break and eat all the cake thats been going around.




WATAAR did the craziest things on Mon. We had PKLS and Ms Eu bought a PINIATA (!!!!!) and i couldnt for the life of me destroy with the broom stick i was offered to liberate the sweets so Gav the Man karate chopped it for me.

It was so funny i nearly choked on my own spittle and died right there.

And we had awesome cake with choco eggs on the top and everything.


My neck is hurting something awful now.
I think its because im becoming very old. 16 !!!

Im so old, i can hear my bones creaking.



Or maybe its because im typing this while im slouched in bed in a very bad position which would have those posture-freaks like going nuts.

BUT IM FLIPPIN 16 !!!!
Holy.

I decided held enough significance to be recorded here, in my trustly ole blog, soon to become obsolete in the Ever-TwitBooking world.


Its 12.53 now.
I cant even feel my neck anymore. Its gone numb.

I reckon its a sign.
Goodnightzxzxz Im going to Where The Wild Things Are.

PS. STILL CANNOT BELIEVE IM 16.

Life is not about trying to fit into shorts
but finding shorts that fit.

Omg.

My posting window is getting weireder and weirder (STILL think WIERD looks more weird than WEIRD- but for the sake of english, and pride.) by the day.

Now everything is flush left and i cant (again) change my font.

But whatever.

500 Days of Summer is coming out ON MY BIRTHDAY MY BIRTHDAY MY BIRTDHAY and i think its a sign. That i must watch it. And its such a brilliant movie! Joseph Gordon-Levitt is not the only attraction, (AND WHAT AN ATTRACTION), there is Zooey Deschanel who acted in Yes Man, and the script is so scintillating and original. Its like a breath of fresh air, sweet and delightful.

THEN THERE IS SEXY SACHA, who i love to tiny tiny tiny little bits because he is the funniest shit alive.

I must watch Bruno too. It is imperative.

Good movies have this annoying habit of poping up when i cannot watch them.





Chinese results were a terribly large shock(:
But good shock.

Upsides of Being Intelligent

I dont know why my crazy computer cannot seem to open the posting window effectively. All im getting is a box, whcih annoys me greatly because i can neither change this awful font style, or this miniscule font size.

I was reading the my Engish Literature Forum (since when has school been so interesting, man) and damn, Forums are the brilliantest things. I swear. Especially when brilliant people start to discuss the most banal things and make it seem outrageously interesting. (Basically when i say people i mean Renyue and Nicks and Xin Yi)

Honestly.

I can see where these people are going, already.

Unless, of course, they are gifted in the Sciences on top of the Arts, and then all i can say to that is Life Is Unfair (which is a rather stupid thing to say, because we already all know it's true AND there is nothing anyone can do about it. If there was, life was be boring anyway. Everyone would either be across-the-board beautiful or across-the-board ugly.

Arcoss-the-board beautiful might sound mighty awesome, but only because we fail to see that beautiful would not be deemed beautiful if everyone were beautiful. If you get my drift.

Then beautiful and ugly and stupid and smart would cease to have a meaning simply because there would be no more distinction between them. Life would be like a piece of white paper.

Blank and stark and eeriely unreal. But then i digress)

1. Smart people are respected. See: Barack Obama. (First Black President Of Free World And Noone Gives a Shit That You Share a Middle Name With A Terrorizing Madman)
Michelle Obama (First Lady. Damn Fashion Statement)
Einstein (Dude. He lived how long ago? And we still know who he is?)
Ali G (You can insult all and sundry and people still LIKE you if you're brilliant, funny and you graduate from Oxbridge)
Nicky Ren Yue Xin Yi (see: me, nearly drooling in awe of their coherence and scintillating-ness. Enough said)

2. Smart people go to Zouk and get so stoned they cant even see, and then the next day study for an hour and get results so brilliant you darent even imgaine getting. (This happens. It does. Its unfair, but i shant go into the Life Is Unfair But Too Damn Bad rant again)

3. Smart people get married to smart people and produce smart little babies who boost economy and make country flourish. (Ask LKY. He totally would back me up)

4. Smart people are generally rich. (Need i provide examples? Just one word would suffice: Gates. SAT score? 1590 out of 6000. IQ? 170. Proven.)

5. Smart people change the world because people LISTEN to smart people. (Ghandi, Martin Luther- both, Mother Teresa- dont give me a incredulous face, she HAD to be smart, all those people skills and handling matters and having home after home under your care, Emma Watson- DARE YOU SAY HP DID NOT CHANGE THE WORLD, ectect)


Well.


But then again, i dont let it bother me too much.
I value happiness and contentment more than i value intelligence. (Or rather, i try)


God has a plan, anyway.
Maybe what he wants me to do requires somthing other than acuity.

Yes, it must be.
God makes everything better, he really does.


ITS ALSO SINGAPORE DAY TOMORROW.
Which for some uncomprehendable reason is making extremely excited.

Yes.
I am so proud of Singapore, i can barely contain it. Its home indeed. I think my loss of voice from Singing What Do You See and screaming yesterday proves my undying loyalty to my HOME LAND.

Singpapore is indeed fantastic place. Where else would you find people like Hossan Leong and Phua Chu Kang and National Day Videos with men walking down dark roads?

Where else would you be subjected to Sars and MRT RESPECT raps and where else can you choose to eat Indian, Malay, Chinese, Vietnamese, Korean or Japanese food all in the same place?

Where else do you shout KOPI TEH is your best gangsta accent and then sit down to say (primly, of course) 'Oh, im famished! Cant wait to tuck into the scrumptious food!'

No where else, really.

Singapore is one of a kind, it is.

LOVE IT.



Also, this blog is the awesomest.
www.pleasefindthis.blogspot.com ('Pologize. I cannot seem to add the hyperlink, damn my computer. Or blogger.com? Whatever)

It really is.

Nat finished reading the post all the way to well, wayyyy many years ago. I admit i havent really read them all yet, but those that i have, havent disappointed.

Basically this guy write poignant one liners (which are rather emotional and drenched in a heavy atmosphere, but altogther very exquisite. And worth the time) about photos sent to him by an unknown penpal who travels all over the globe.

Its all really interesting.

And talking about beautiful, lets not forget the BEST SONG I'VE EVER HEARD. And this is Honestly Not A Superlative.
Cross my heart. (just like the Carl Fred-somthing from Pixar's Up, my heart crosses are violently and extraordinarily steadfast)

Its an amazing song.

I cant even describe it. The tune makes it seem all so surreal.

The first line will cut you so deep, it becomes imperative that you listen to it over and over again, and learn the lyrics off by heart, and sing it in the bathroom, to your mother, and tell all your contemporaries about it. Its so brilliantly and remarkably PASSIONATE. I cannot even begin to stress how much i love it. Perhaps even more than Kaka. (Oh no what am i saying!) Less than i love Emma Watson and the History Boys and Adam Lambert and Artemis Fowl, though, but the extent of how much i love them is off the charts, so we dont compare. (Reckon i should stop upping the expectations, or im going to seem unreliable)


Here goes.


Vanilla Twilight by Owl City.


I'LL FIND REPOSE IN NEW WAYS
THOUGH I HAVENT SLEPT IN TWO DAYS
COLD NOSTALGIA CHILLS ME TO THE BONE