the entry of the bad season

I'm having a lil bit of meltdown. I think it's the holiday season. I'm having a terrible jolly bad time.

I need to find something to do. Maybe Julia Child or the Golden Book Of Chocolate will help me.

The entry with the runaway bride

It never happened. There was no runaway bride ala Julia Roberts. It's just pure wildest imagination from Kojack land! In kojack land, surreal, strangest things just happen - being forced by the Vice-Principal of Kranji Sec to marry a faceless girl for screwing up the school song; toes bitten off by big fat rats; fighting against the Orcs alongside Gandalf; slapped by kittens; swirling down the slippery slide in Enid Blyton's The Faraway Tree. I love Kojack Land!

Can you hear it? Wedding bells are ringing today, 19 Dec 2009, for my best friend yatee! Wootz wootz! She was a beautiful bride. We've grown so much. Happy for both of you! May you have all the blessings in your marriage!

That is the last and it marks the end of weddings I'm attending for the year 2009. As much as I'm happy for the wedding couples, weddings are depressing to me. I'm a single lad. So all you singles out there, as Beyonce sings it, if you like me, put a ring on it!

But I don't believe in a metal band wrapped around my finger could bring me lifetime happiness. I am not interested in marriage. My friend thinks I'm one who won't see myself getting married. I suppose to find happiness, you dun need to be married. As long as you're contented. Why married and tied down handicapped, when things could be freer?

We're empty vessels. We are meant to fill up emptiness. But who says there was a limit to the emptiness? Blink.

Now anyone wants to date me?

the entry of the misery and company

we are non-solitary creatures. we seek company. we always love company. we need company.

Misery loves company. We are misery. A pain, distress, wretchedness of condition. Miserable souls too caught up by the future, planning it, forgetiing the reality, the life we are living in now. We are hastily pulling out tricks in our attempts building and securing relationships with strangers around us that we have forgotten who we are, and how we appear in the eyes of others.

Misery. Will she ever realize that company is not fond of her?

BUSTED

BUSTED!

Seems like the boys and girls have found it. Hats off to these sneaky Sherlock Holmes detectives. Unfortunately, the blog has no juicy stuffs leaking out about him. You will need the people from the Sun or Mirror to get any of those details.

Nevertheless, he won't disappoint you. He may leave hints about himself along the way if you wait long enough. It may be forever, but good things will always come to those who waits!

xoxo
Kojack

The entry of the fiery fiesty fierce FLY! *Piak!*

Have you noticed that advertisements currently make up 3/4 of the pages in a newspaper? Despite that, I'm not here to complain. Instead, I *HEART* advertisements! They'll tell you the biggest offers, discounts and sales out there to look out for, the cheapest travel destinations to plan out for, or the current events I should be heading or looking out for in the week. Advertisement shapes my life!


But some advertisements just rub us the wrong way. Welcome Firefly! The new budget carriers to enter the rapidly increasing budget aviatory industry. It is the first budget carrier that flies you from Singapore to the lesser known, or smaller states and cities in Malaysia. Hence, in the effort to establish and inform travellers of their special routes, the marketing team in Firely came out with these:

Come explore the BACKyard of Malaysia!

And to captivate the attention of short getaway travellers, the brilliant team had yet did it again, only F.I.E.R.C.E.R and desperate?

Who needs a QUICKIE? I'm sure their flight attendants are fully trained in that, as the ad suggested. Guaranteed, by the end of the flight, you'll be beaming like a fireFLY.

Firstly, to brand yourself Firefly only lands you in the belly of a Venus flytrap! It's rather believable if it was a comic character. Secondly, it is understood that the market of budget carrier is obviously stiff. A fresh player must be able to know how to pull strings to be on par with the seniors. However, I certainly objected the idea of using sexual connotations and imageries to boost sales of Air tickets. It only translates to signs of desperation or lack of creative and professional marketing strategies. It'll only end up as a joke.

Coincidentally, flight mishaps have been rampant lately. Travellers, will rather trust their flight in the hands of a serious player and not a flight with suggestive, sleazy air cabin crews who are more interested in quickies and shoving their backyards.

The entry of the Angsa

Something funny happened today while in the lift with my sis.

umar: (Sings)...Potong bebek angsa, masak di kuali..eh what's the next line?

shida: Nyonya masak laksa, laksa jadi kari. Mamak di kanan, mamak di kiri, na na na na na.

umar: WAHAHAHAHAHA! Are you sure that's the correct lyrics?

shida: yeaaaah??

CRAP! Whatever happen to the laksa man! What went wrong? Nyonya must be cooking in the wrong town - Little India. Must have mistaken Curry Leaves as daun Pudina.

Anyhoos, in the light of the things that transcended the past week, I had burnt myself by swimming under the hot noon sun and I screwed up my quality english test which apparently is a pre-requisite requirement set by the university. This is to gauge the standard of English of non-GP takers. I personally find it insulting.

Futhermore, I thought it was unjustified to torture us under pressure to write an essay of media violence on the spot without any reference or research in hand. And blimey, the brain is too rusty to pen an essay after two long year hiatus serving National Service.

The fate of my test is still rather obscure. Have to wait a weeks time for the results. Till then, I'm off to screw up my life furthermore.

The entry of the peasant.

I'm very contented with what I have and how I lead my life. My parents have to be thanked for their strong parental guidance raising me up.

I am able to live without the glamour, car, booze, money, clubs and socialite friends. And I wouldn't want to trade what I have now for those.

I'm very comfortable being the peasant among the rich rebels in my school. I won't fret if I couldn't afford what they could. Nor will I be green about their wealth. Moreover, nor will I loathe their lifestyle or the person he is.

It'll just make me a better, stronger, driven peasant!

The entry with Pitbull

Hehe. Grin. I'm hooked onto Pitbull's I Know You Want Me. hurhurhur.

I usually don't really like regaeton music, BUT the Brazilian has biten me. I'm infected by its viral beats! It's another fresh dance anthem, it's the new Macarena! Heeeeeeeeey Macarena!!! Haiiikkk!!!

Poweeerrr track to jog with! Trust me. I jogged to it and you totally feel seksehhhhhh!!! Oooh! Lol! Just imagine yourself running slow-mo ala Baywatch with this song in the background. Sekseehhhhh rite? Rite? HAHAHA!

And it's definitely the male epitome of Don't Cha. Check out the chorus

"I KNOW you want me, want me
You know I wan cha, wan chhHHAAAAA"

Ok. The last bit I exaggerated it to make it more sekseeehhhh!!!

The entry of the mistaken identity

The GUYS, they don't change much. Even if they color or permed up their hair, they don't change much.

The GIRLS. Make-up transforms them. But there are the pros and cons to that.

An ex school mate of mine, added me on fb. The name doesn't ring a bell. The group of friends she had were mostly my seniors. The limited one and only photo doesn't help either. How could I possibly know who she is?

Eventually, a simple reintroduction message tinkled a lil bit in my head of who she is.

Girls, putting on heavy daps of concealers, brushing those glittering eye shadow and slapping on those lipsticks can give you wonders! BUT, too much just makes you older. i.e porn stars? Who ever get turned on looking at their faces? And Yes! The make up just another way to not get free bootie calls in the public when they're out shopping for grocery.

For this accidental school mate of mine, I asked her if she was even my age and batch to begin with!

It's not my fault! A little is more, they say.

The entry of the epidemic

I'm home quarantined! Urgh! Just when you thought you were too far away from getting any of this. And here I am. Outraged by this epidemic. So I BLOG!

I got news on the 3rd day of camp, 24 June, after I left on the night of 23 June, the camp broke as one of the campers was a suspected case. And I only got news, only thanks to my room mate. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't know of the matter as none of the people there contacted me back with this news. Shouldn't I be informed too, even if I left the camp early? I believed I played games with the rest of the campers which involves close contact and ?

I'm outraged by the complancency, proficiency and definitely the transperancy of the committee members to alert all campers, be it IN or OUT, of such viral epidemic cases that happened within the camp!

At 1518hrs, on 26 June, only then I received a text message: "One more person got tested positive for H1N1, from the main comm."

I'm just fumed.

The entry of the Dance Camp

Unlike the previous camps I had back in my polytechnic days or even one of those random camps I took part in when I was 12, the faculty camp I partook in recently was a ghastly eye-opener experience that surely was successful in executing memorable.

I was brought up in believing camps are to be a dirty, muddy experience where they bring out the toughness and edge out of you. Hence, I was horribly shock when we had to conduct mass dance practices for merely 2 hours long. It seems to me that it was the highlight of the whole camp. I gathered my courage to torture my mind and body in tiring flashy intricate choreographed moves.

I believe I am every bit a good dancer. As long as I can bounce, sway my hips and nod to the beats, I must be pretty damn good. But the mass dance, told me to check myself back to reality. I am worst than Isla Fisher in Shopaholic. The mass dance bruised me badly - My self-esteem, my ego (if there's any of it left). I was frustrated I couldn't get in sync with the rest. After much effort and perspiration, I was Mr Bean, prouncing around and all tangled up helplessly, hiding at the back of the lot.

The camp did push me to my limits. But I still can't dance to their routines - Hip-Hop, Cha Cha and whatever nots? Did it toughen me up? It did toughen my ego for a man to be sashaying my hips in front of pumped atheletic joggers at the stadium. Did it push me? Definitely, my perserverance to prove myself Danceable!

But for future sake, don't ever punk'd us campers by shockingly throwing us into dancing boot camp when initially the publicity was all about war games! It may be part of the surprise program agenda, but don't dampened the hopes of us who believed that we were BORN to dance. Thank goodness I happened to stay only 2 nights of dancing classes due to emergency!

The entry with the sandwich

Hello. I went J.B today. We drove down on a cloudy afternoon. Weather was good.

Head down to Tesco and Tebrau City for random window shopping and fulfil our roles as Asian cavemen performing our endless duty rounds of food gorging.

I was suprised that Dunkin Donuts had sandwiches. They had a variety: turkey ham, or smoked chicken, or other familiar sandwiches you heard of. Ok, no big deal to you. But IT IS for me! Darn Singapore, I can't get a decent fresh feeling full 6 footer Halal affordable sandwich to go. Even the No Pork, No Lard outlets don't offer fresh sandwiches for me. And NO. Pre-packed stale 7-eleven sandwiches don't do justice for me either.

If only Subway was Halal and catering to the Muslim society in Singapore. The business prospects are clearly evident here. It is a proven profitable move to cater to the mass. Plus Bonus fact: Malay society in Singapore can't stop eating!

If I wanted Subway sandwiches, I have to travel 306km up to Kuala Lumpur just to have my teeth sink into one. If I wanted a fresh healthy sandwich to go, I have to cross the Causeway to get one from Dunkin Donuts outlet, which Singapore lacked off. If I want a fresh Halal Certified sandwich in Singapore, I have to pay service charge and taxes for the dining experience in Delifrance, cause their takeaways packaging is depressing.

Now, Subway. why oh why aren't you Halal? I hate you.

The entry of the never ending lies

I was in campus for a briefing of the volunteer work which I signed up. A senior was demonstrating of how to use a Hand Drill on wood. I am not a handy crafty guy to begin with, but I managed to drill a clean cut hole on that wood. Dang! I could do a freaking Miley Hoedown, U betcha!

I went to sit at a corner cause I've done my fair bit of demonstration. I switched to dream mode. Dang! I swear I heard a faint voice. Definitely not in my dreams. SNAP! Reality check: One of the fresh boys came up to me, introducing his name. And I dun remember it. I didn't even got hold of his name! But I was pretty annoyed with him for intruding my solitary bubble. Couldn't you volunteered yourself to drill more stuffs other than my bubble! I was so irritated, I lied on my introduction to him. "I studied Diploma Multimedia?" Freaking snappers, have no clue why I was able to conjure that one out. And the lies continued further. It was word vomit. It was beyooooond controoooool.

Okay, I lied because I was annoyed with him for the unexpected intrusion. Secondly, he could introduced himself to the larger group! Surely, they'll be interested somehow. Lastly, I'm still working out on how to introduce myself. Graduating from poly and able to make it into NUS, seems to be deemed as a big deal. People find yourself a competition, cause you fairly have a first start information of the course you'll be embarking. Unfortunately, I was a Landscape Architect student. And IT ISN'T fair! Cause I'm merely doing flat, low architecture, FYI. I can't help but being paranoid.

Apparently, the senior student asked me what was my last education. Suprisingly, I admitted the truth. But it backfired, cause the truth only hurts you more. She obliviously revealed my secret identity, and there they were - T800, cyborg killing machines glaring at me mercilessly. My heart skipped a beat. HE was there too. The freshie I lied earlier on.


Shit?


Moral of the story: Don't lie. Daydream when you're in a group cause only then you'll be unnoticed!

The entry of heaven and hell.

I had accomplished in getting my gadgetries before school term starts. For that I'm a proud techonphile. I bought myself a GATEWAY laptop, and treated myself a Nokia Qwerty E63 phone a day before my birthday, and my sister surprised me with an iPod Shuffle 3rd generation for my 22nd. I'm in gadget heaven! Ok, THEY are not that fancyful to boast about here. It's just another medium for an expression of my gratefulness and self-satisfaction.

On another note, I watched Sam Raimi's new flick Drag Me To Hell. The gory grotesque movie failed to deliver the horror, but instead it got lost in its own genre turning out to be a hilarious horror movie to date. Hollywood had been missing that punch with their scare tactics, allowing disturbing gore in replacement of the classic building-up-suspense-scare we longed for. I wished I knew Sam well, so that I could drag him to hell for this utter rubbish. But I would sound a bitter loser if I do, for he's the grinning winner burning our pockets in the end. Now wonder if The Orphan will make a better brake than Hell?

The entry of morning blogging

It's 6am in the morning. But the blogger time may tell you otherwise. I'm off to my second last day of work. I'm a bit numb in the emotions. Not because I think I have to make a speech later. Anyhoos I'm blogging using my latest gadgetry, nokia qwerty phone! Totally technophile! Have you 'qwerty' yet?

The entry of the hopeful songbird

No. I did not join in the lines of the many hopeful idols and starlets at Cathay or Tampinese. But I did join in the likes of many who sing along to highlighted neon words and joyful b-O-U-n-c-I-N-G balls while sipping to thirst quencher Iced Green Tea! Slurp slurp. In fact I think I'm hooked on Karaoke!

Inarguably, it's a self-boosting experience. You finally dare to come out from your routined singing in the shower stints, to fully exposed yourself and killing the songs on amplified speakers to eager high-spirited audience, that usually makes up of three to four of your friends! Boy, they sure made you look good. They just make you want to show off more of that vocal acrobatic moves, deep in your heart, you knew you were born with!

So forget the long waiting lines and depressing critiques. You're already an Idol! All thanks to K-Box, Party World and CashBox! Now, let's work on that dealership for my upcoming autobiography, shall we?

The entry about eating back my words

I know I did mention that never will I blog again, and the blogging scene had degenerated to me. But, like fashion - the massive shoulder pads are back again, here I am blogging again.