I'm a self-proclaimed loyal piece of shit. I've been supporting Newcastle since 5, and I'll never forget the day where they whalloped Man United 5-0. Now perhaps many of you know how it feels to see your favourite club win, but what do you know about seeing your favourite club perform like shit week in week out? I can safely say, you know nuts about that.

Every week, I wait for that damn Newcastle match. Fucking hell. I love them. Even though Shearer's leaving. Even though they don't win 38 matches out of 38. Been through times, when I was younger, that I nearly gave up on them. Now? I see myself as different, yes I do. But like my Dad says, 'Why subject yourself to so much misery, week in week out?' I don't know, I really don't. I wish I could bring myself to change clubs, maybe support Arsenal or something. I admire them, but I'll never be able to switch loyalties.

Yet, it pains me to see them play like noobs. Hell, I'd give up anything to watch Newcastle play at St. James' Park. Just once would be enough. But you know, seeing them lose in such a pathetic manner? It pains me more than it pains you seeing your gay 5566/Energy disband. One thousand times more.

I don't know where I'm going with this, but I'm not even thinking about what to type next. It's just been cooped up for months. Years in fact. Although that few years Sir Bobby Robson had with us was relatively successful, it's been a damned downhill ride once more. I'm really lost for words with the defending. It's like watching gay porn. Like how disgusting, awkward, senseless, shitty can it get? I mean, when you're at the fucking bottom, I thought the only way to go is down? No, the Newcastle defenders dig a deeper hole, and put their fucking heads in it. I have two Newcastle posters in my room. I feel like tearing them down now.

But I won't. I can't.

Even after getting this off my chest, it doesn't feel better. It just doesn't. This post has got nothing to do with stat-counter/haloscan. This post is about the fucking misery I go through almost every single week. I know truckloads of you are going, 'Ah, dumbfuck! Ah, noob! Ah, crazy asshole who loves inflicting injuries onto himself when Newcastle's playing lousily! LOL!'

Thanks, and grasp the fact that I did punch my thigh(s), shout, scream, and I was almost on the verge of tears.

I'm sorry guys, I know I should be asleep by now, but I can't sleep. At least I'll try. But Newcastle didn't. To hell with the 3 'B's' -- Namely the trio of losers. Bramble, Boumsoung and Babayaro. The Singapore Under-23's did better than them. The hell they did.

People spite me all the time. They look down on Newcastle. I know, they love themselves too much to hurt themselves. If their teams lose, maybe they'll just change their minds and support some other team. You can't give up on 10 years of loyalty, can you? I can't.

Night, once and for all. And thanks guys. Thanks, for those who tagged and lifted my spirits by that teeny-weeny bit. You make a huge difference. Not like Newcastle, eh?

I knew that was coming. Fuck.

Why? Why am I always flaming little inconsequential stuff on my blog? I mean like, there's definitely something better to blog about, right? Plus, nobody's commenting, you loser.

Thanks alot, I know. But I don't know.


------------------------------------------------------


So today, I shall flame... Something you love so much.

Anime, motherfucking comics and shit. I know our dear government is promoting the teaching of chinese through comics. and useless chinese songs which use english words. But how many of you started reading comics after you heard that news? Or do you even listen to the news/read the newspapers? It might also come as a shocking fact that a lot of dear comic readers don't read the words. They probably barely understand and just enjoy looking at the 'uber-cool pictures'. I mean, respect to those who draw amazingly well and are trying to emulate their favourite artists. No respect to those who waste their time on comics. I mean, in my honest opinion, it's a waste of time, big time.

Well, whatever. Continue indulging yourself in comics, when you could easily pick up a damn book and engross yourself in it.

Like I've said before, it's your choice. I'm just bloggin about my dislikes. Which amount to a ton. Or a few tonnes. I don't know.


------------------------------------------------------


Well, I'll probably not blog for 2 days. Or 3, or 4. Not like you give a fuck. Eh? Nah, I've realised it's best to blog for yourself. For fun. Not for that motherfucking ego-boosting stat-counter, or for the fluctuating of comments in the damned Halsocan box. I'm resigned to the fact that my blog'll always suck, so no matter. No biggie.

I mean, no more blows to my ego, because I've switched it off, summoned a huge aura of 'protective rays' around it and put it to stagnant mode. So it'll always remain the same. Wow, I'm being imaginative here!

Fuck.

Two days back, I did the unbelievable. I rubbed salt into my ulcer. Rubbed salt. Never did that before. Now I roughly know what it means to 'rub salt into your wounds, literally.

I made a big fuss out of my ulcers. I know, I'm terrible and running low on my creative juices. But anyway, my ulcers were already on its road to recovery. They were healing. And then 'Boom! Headshot!' Here comes a sore throat. Now, that was timely.

I've drank about 15 cups of water already. Do I own or what?


-----------------------------------------------------------------------


So basically, I'm leading a very uneventful life, for now. The O's are actually looming. It seems like tomorrow. I know. Before we know it, we'll be sitting in that damn hall shivering, facing the end of the world, temporarily.

Well, who cares, now? I still think I do. Man, at least I started on my measly homework!


-----------------------------------------------------------------------

And so I reluctantly quit my network game of (What else?) Football Manager, and dragged myself out of the comfortable little chair I was (or am) on now, and took a quick shower. I was headed to a shitty barbeque. Ya, I finally got to my topic.

It's not like my Dad's barbeque-ing skills are sub-standard, (in fact he owns), but I hated the environment. It was shit-like. I mean if *cough* one of those people there once danced to some gay 5566 song for his music lesson... I mean... You know. He was a guy. I discriminate terribly. Too bad. But I know, I know, you still get the point. Do not question me about his sexuality. I don't talk to him.

So there I was, sitting down alone, listening to my Metallica, Dream Theater, Slipknot, System of A Down, stoning like fuck and looking at the floor, while the others happily ate away. Hunger didn't wake me up from my daydreams, the thought that I was being rude, (not like I cared), made me go grab some food, and make a cameo appearance. Ha.

Music does do wonders sometimes. I left as quickly as I came.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------


On another note, you dear friends of mine, (or readers whom I don't know, if you exist), please go check out this wonderful website and download their episodes.

www.purepwnage.com

If you really did heed my advice and download it, good for you. But if you really do find it lame, then just... Flame me. I need more figures on my Haloscan anyway. They rarely fluctuate. Just some more arrows to my heart. Nah, it won't bother you, eh?

I say it's the purest of manure. In layman's terms, bullshit. Now we have always heard people appealing to get into more famous schools, and the cases weren't aplenty. But check out the statistics.

50% of students going to a certain school have enrolled through D.S.A. (Direct School Admission, duh.)

Now, what does that spell? It is mighty clear that those students can achieve this shitty D.S.A because of their extraordinary skills in non-academic areas. Interesting, you might say. Unfair competition, I say. What the hell are normal schools going to do? Sit and stare in awe, at the 'power' of the others? The stranglehold those schools are going to have on this non-academic areas will never be broken. This shitty vicious cycle will go on and on, till competitions cease to exist because there is nothing to compete for. What the hell is wrong with this world.

Oh, and this is not comparable to our dear Chelski situation. We're not even talking money. Oh, and I do know that some students who applied for D.S.A have good results. Maybe, they're just paranoid.

On the subject of stinking results, all the super fortunate students in the Little Red Dot received their wonderful P.S.L.E results. Not like I gave two hoots about it, but congratulations to the Malay boy who was this year's scholar and is contemplating of being a lawyer. Best of luck, dude.

This is for you, man. Chill. I know you expect a lot from yourself. Who doesn't? Me too. But never ever let it get to your head. You're not a miracle worker. Nobody is. This type of stuff, trust me. It comes with time, it comes and goes, arrives happily, might leave angrily a second later. The key is to catch it when it's still here. If it does leave, try to find means to regain its loyalty. I know how it feels. I've been there before, and I've never really left, anyway. I'm only a measly year older than you. It's not much of a difference. But yet at the same time, I've noticed some tiny little details, perhaps, you've yet to sight. All's well ends well. We all see your passion. We know you work doubly, triply hard. But you're not made of iron, you won't be injury free. Always make it a point to keep yourself in check, make sure you're not aggravating anything. You know you could find a solution now, instead of turning to desperate measures when you're at your wits end. I actually trust that you know very well what you'd doing. Take some little details into consideration, they might help.

I know you won't be reading this, but keep this in mind. And I know this sounds cliche, but if there's a will, there's a way. No use blowing your top, but I know all the self pressure is building up, and I know how it feels. Really.

Today's pitch count... Remarkably remarkable.

It seems like I have shitloads to say, but my brain is on 'Sleep' mode. And watching Singapore play Indonesia doesn't help. They're squandering SITTERS.

So where was I? Ah yes, I really don't know. Seems like blogging's becoming a chore, at the moment, due to certain commitments.

Smells like Football Manager though. Hmmm... Go figure.

Now, the worse couldn't come at a better time. I was hoping that my ulcers would heal quicker, so my main appetizer, main course and desert was water. And plain water, if you really want to know. So today, I felt less pain. That's a good sign. Then during training, I got kissed by a ball, on the left side of my face. So the left side of my mouth is a bit swollen, there are a few semi-healed ulcers on the right side, and a few new forming ulcers at the top of my mouth, to my dismay.

Did I tell you I bade goodbye to my lunch an hour after I consumed it? I'm hardly bulimic.

Oh, the main, and only reason why I'm not blogging so often, is the fault of Football Manager. Have you ever been manipulated by a game before? I have. This game. Oh, so you rant and rave about the dots running around. Oh, it sucks, so lame and boring. I'd rather kill mushrooms. Now wait. I wonder whether you know how it feels to be a manager? You have one leg in it, yet you don't have the full power to change things. You blow up when you lose, you smile when you're in cruise control. Sometimes, I don't even notice the mood swings when I'm playing. It comes and goes. Ha. Who cares about what you think. Maple still blows, big time.

Seriously, I've been pondering over the few 'mini-incidents'. Am I like purely unlucky, careless, or is it just a damn bad mix of both?

Damn. My ulcer's killing me. Now I start dreading every meal, as it signifies a never ending tearing process. No matter how much I tilt my head to the left and urge all my food to be chewed in that corner of my mouth, my uclers still get attacked. And the pain's excruciating. It had to come while you're eating. Normally when we fall down, get wounds, it's also painful. But does it come with the joy of tasting nice food? No.

So what's the conclusion? Ulcers suck. I know all of you've been through this gay ordeal, and it just makes life so hard for that few days/sometimes weeks. Damn.

But anyway it's quite shocking when you hear a parent asks his/her child to stop reading Harry Potty after he/she finds out that it's 'bad for children'. When he/she didn't even bother to find out the reason. Odd balls. Unconditional love? Or pure naivety? I don't know. Don't care la.

By the way, if any of you are THIS mad over Football Manager like me and Edmund, please do contact us. Perhaps you could join in our very wonderful LAN game. And I can't believe I lost 3-2 to Liverpool. Crap.

I'm welcoming tuition with my arms wide open. Sometimes, if you can't beat them, join them. Right Josiah? Sometimes it's better to re-think what's best for you, and not be a rebellious and irritating brat. Like my brother.

Well, we're only a few hours away from the match. Sure gets your heart pumping. Meanwhile, a bit of Dean Koontz won't kill. Yes, I'm such a big ol' bookworm. Shoot me.

I would have been much better off with 'The Exorcism of Emily Rose'. Even my Dad couldn't believe I was so into Harry Potty. No offence to those Potty fans who would already be screaming for my head, but seriously, movies should not be made from books. So as to avoid disappointment, we should always watch the movie first, read the book, and curse the movie makers.

But something cool happened today. There was this like good looking girl who sat beside me on the bus! I was sleeping on the bus la. The good thing today is that I finally realised that 'Cho' or whoever from the Potty show looked like, average. She totally blows. End of story.

We shall stop here about Harry Potty. Well, what's been going on lately? Other than an identity crisis, nothing much. For now. When I start worrying, I can barely stop. So please, don't give me a reason to worry. Other than my super fall today, I guess you could say that it was uneventful. Damn, my head could have been crushed. -Runs off to start worrying.

Maybe I should go read the news and comment on some childish behaviour by some immature retards. Maybe not. Oh and by the way, if 'walking away' is really a crime, wouldn't you just sue me? Pretty please?

And I'm really looking forward to Newcastle VS Chelsea on Saturday. After putting up the two posters, (One of Owen and another of the Newcastle logo) my spirits are high again. But pessismistic I am, so, I'm not expecting much. It wouldn't hurt to see Chelsea lose again though. I can foresee everybody nodding their heads vigorously, no? Oh and the World Cup is such a wonderful event. I love it when you actually get the chance to be exposed to more country names! Togo, Angola... Same wavelength, baby?

Oh. And 'OUCH!'. Some Swiss player got kicked in the manyouknowwhere! Poor unlucky fellow. I feel your pain.

Oh, and the colour quiz everybody's talking about? Freaking ignore the sex unwanted part, PLEASE.

Your Existing Situation
Orderly, methodical, and self-contained. Needs the respect, recognition, and understanding of those close to him.

Your Stress Sources
Is responsive to outside stimuli and wants to experience everything intensely, but is finding the existing situation extremely frustrating. Needs sympathetic understanding and a sense of security. Distressed by his apparently powerlessness to achieve his goals.

Your Restrained Characteristics
Wants to broaden his fields of activity and insists that his hopes and ideas are realistic. Distressed by the fear that he may be prevented from doing what he wants; needs both peaceful conditions and quiet reassurance to restore his confidence.Able to achieve satisfaction through sexual activity.

Your Desired Objective
Feels the situation is hopeless. Strongly resists things which he finds disagreeable. Tries to shield himself from anything which might irritate him or make him feel more depressed.

Your Actual Problem
His natural ability to examine everything with critical discrimination has been distorted into an attitude of harsh disapproval, which opposes and denigrates without regard to the real facts.

Your Actual Problem #2
Depleted vitality has created an intolerance for any further stimulation, or demands on his resources. This feeling of powerlessness subjects him to agitation and acute distress. He reacts by considering that he has been victimized, and insists--with indignation, resentment, and defiance--on being given his own way.

It's pretty accurate I must say. Check out 'Your Actual Problem'. I'm telling you, Chinese music sucks. Spoils your brain and all. Haha.

I really think I have something to write now. After non-stop Football Manager for the past few days, I am getting sick and tired of all that shit. Actually that's not the truth. I just kept losing, that's why.

But anyway, in the blink of an eye, sweet old 16 is staring straight at me. It's just a mere 7 months away. That's scary, for some things I still can't figure out. I was born on the 28th of June, 1990. That makes my horoscope Cancer, my astrological sign Horse. I'm not as sociable as many others, and there's a lot I prefer to keep to myself and my close friends. Definitely not good at speech, neither am I your Prince Charming, that I know for sure. Stuff will come in bits and pieces, so you can either forgive me and read on,

or just freaking leave.

I've never been able to shake off the bad habit of biting my nails. And I hate people who think they're the best. One day I'll shoot them right in the middle of their eye. Humility, losers. However, I do aspire to be filled with confidence. Confidence is perhaps one of the most sensitive words in my dictionary. For a person such as myself, confidence, I suppose, does not come in abundance. It has to be nurtured, slowly but surely, and that accounts for the difference between the way I speak to people I know well and whom I don't. That's just an educated guess. Page me if you disagree. Oh, and I've been shunning cameras since I was pretty young. Now I know I'm not really dashing, and I'm not really photogenic. I don't deny the fact that the studio photos were pretty impressive, but sometimes we do have our good days.

In the recent years, I've got to discover myself more. But sometimes, the more we know, the more confused we get. The more confused we get, the blurrer objects around as seem. I've been experiencing this. Sometimes I'm pretty comfortable with who I am, sometimes I despise myself. Other times I just wish nobody was around. I don't exactly picture confusion as beneficial for 'discovery of one's real self'. But, there are always exceptions. The fog clears, and the roads are clearly defined. But they rarely last, as I'm thrown back into a state of chaos, once again.

I wish I could click with more people, but no is no. Even, even, in this rare occasion, I always see my neighbour, I've barely gotten things going. I blame nobody but myself. Plus, it's always difficult to render yourself to become perpendicular to another who was your parallel. But this is just an isolated and special case. What I'm trying to say is that there are just too many people whom I don't see eye to eye with. Maybe it's reciprocal, I don't know.

I'm easily swayed by convincing articles. That's what Edmund thinks. Sometimes I may, maybe because I'm biased towards it. But rest assured, if I really detest it, you'll never see me agree with it. Stuff which I really think deserve to stink, stink.

Scenario 1
Yuan Hong : Jay Chou rocks worsxxxxxx.!
Civil Defence : Reports of pigs airborne. Butchers get ready your knives for takeoff. I repeat. Reports of Pigs airborne.

You get the picture.

For some reason, jealousy comes into the picture. I can bet with my balls that I'm sure everyone has seen couples in public areas. What do you feel? Jealousy? Disgust? Sympathy(LOL)? Ok, what the hell am I talking about. Screw secondary school relationships. They're evil, they screw your mind up, waster your time, mixes up your priorities and gets you into trouble.

I don't mind books, I don't mind books at all. Come on, I finished David Baldacci's 'Hour Game' in 2 days. I'm not boasting, just letting you in on a little bookworm's secret. I totally adore Stephen Frey because his books kill. Same goes for Baldacci's. To those who shun books? Get a life. Nobody's asking you to read textbooks, for goodness' sake. 'Get a life, grab a book.' It has to be your lousy choice of books. Or your phobia of words. No? Losers.

Now, that has to be one of the longest posts ever. I'm exhausted from all this writing. Hope this makes up for the inferior posts the past few days. Please, just give me a little tag for my efforts. Or comment, in this case.

Word of the day : 7 feet.

For those who know, good for you. Don't say. Ha. For those who want to know, go find out. For those who don't care, so be it. Ha.

Anyway, now we finally know the reason. It doesn't surprise me.

It really slipped my mind that I have a blog. I bet it's Football Manager. Or maybe it's David Baldacci's books. I know, it must be both. Lol. I mean, how can you blame me when I win matches like 6-4 amd 7-4? Against Charlton and Barcelona respectively. And how can I put down a book when three people have died in the first 20 pages? Go figure.

I'm like lobster red baby. Today's sun was a killer. Pardon me for this very brief post to let everybody know I'm still alive. Maybe tomorrow, when I can afford to sleep a bit later.

Till then.

As in seriously, that totally defies logic. We're all scratching our heads, pondering over whether that reason was valid enough. It's not funny when it happens again. It's odd at the same time. The circumstances are totally different. It's like totally mind-boggling, to say the least. What happened? Why did it turn into such an ugly affair? Nobody knows. We'd love to know the answer though.

That was what happened in the last part of the darned trip. It was ok, then it became darned. Whatever. Always remember, I do not have a photographic memory. But anyways, 6 + 1 things worth remembering from this Bangkok trip, with the school, duh.

1) The back-to-back-to-back matches with the Thailand Women's National team, which is good.
2) The massage. Imagine...
3) The super-duper screwed good feeling of knowing you got owned. Picture this : You buy your earphones at 590 baht, your friends get it at 250 baht. Wow.
4) The two nice shirts I bought. Ya Edmund, it was two.
5) The fact I'm gonna forget it, because Chiangmai was better and we had to use the stairs for more than half of the time. Haha.
6) I bought Football Manager at 400 Baht. And when 4 people share, it's 100 baht each. It's original, losers.
7) This is like the gayest shit I've ever done. We went to a studio, took photos, and damn, they look good. The only problem was that I was constantly attacked. I mean, you'll know when you see. If I could get somebody to get it scanned... Never mind.

I'll probably edit it when something better comes to mind. But for now...
Football Manager, and I think Hellboy's showing at 9. According to my neighbour.

Probably will get a ton of pictures from Leo, Seng Wei and Josiah. And so on. Not as good as the studio ones though, I guess. So I'm like going soon. Oh yes, my Dad's new Cefiro is pretty solid.

Go take an eye test if you can't see that. Or I could repeat, you know.

I AM SINGLE.

You see, I have my reasons. They're simple, one-dimensional reasons. Everybody would get it. By the way, in view of the fact that my dad reads my blog accidentally stumbles on my blog occasionally, I shall list a few things which was good about the trip. It took me 2 hours to come up with this, mind you.

1) Saw 2 was the best chopping, slashing, blasting, decapitating show I've seen in a while. C'mon, it has a plot. Watch it, perhaps you'll feel freaked out. Only those who are worthy of their life should live.
2) The food, is considerably cheap. Hmmm...
3) You get to realise no matter how rude, rowdy or ungraceful the Thais seem, they still own the average Singaporean.
4) I love the ultra humungous red rubies there.
5) Well, there are some pretty majestic sights there to feast your eyes upon.

And something else to feast your eyes upon.

Mouth to mouth resuscitation, baby.

Bring it on, damn cockroach.

Say you missed me. You'll miss me worse when I'm gone again tomorrow. No, but seriously, 5 facts I learned about Bangkok. (And some of its people.)

1) They didn't bother checking my age went I bought the ticket for Saw 2.
2) Some of the uh... Males/Females are indistinguishable from their faces. Look low first.
3) Workers are abused. No shit. They were slogging away at 12am, drilling some dumb ass holes.
4) Wear oxygen masks when walking by the road. Or else you'll end up with 1cm of dust on your face, and you'll develop acute asthma in 3 seconds. (If you think I look like a doctor, find a wall, and run straight up to it.)
5) Don't freak out when they play their National Anthem at 6pm in the train stations.

In my honest opinion, this was a failed trip. Simple as that. The only good thing was that I accquired the new skill of walking, a lot. 'Walk till you drop.' If you haven't realised, me and my neighbours spent 90% of the time shopping. It's like asking a pig to stay in a chicken coop. I felt so out of place, and most of the time, bored. Except for, when I was shopping for my own stuff. Duh.

Apart from that, the only thing which presented any value upon itself during the trip was the... Err. Movie. I know you're going 'what the...' but it's true. The tickets there are cheaper than Singapore's! On a more solemn note, I seriously wasn't able to draw anything positive from this trip. We basically stuck with Japanese food, Chinese food and Western food. Where's the Thai food? The closest we ever got was eating at the food court. Now, don't question me. I'm not the fussy one.

Try as I may, I'll never get around to describing the trip. I'm never patient enough to stick around describing how many seconds it took coming down the ride at Dream World, I only know I took it 10 times. The fact is, this trip is just like a dream which just won't go away. You vaguely remember what happened, but you'll never remember in detail. Pictures taken can be counted with your fingers. (Use your toes for an added effect.) But anyway, I'm going off in less than 24 hours. I'm tired, I don't want to pack, and I can barely drag my ass off to Changi Airport again. That's the place I dread most now. The second? The airport at Bangkok. Without a doubt.

However, such mundane conditions bring about deep thinking. Times where you realise that there will always be uncertainty. There'll always be indecisiveness. There'll always be conflict. There'll always be love lost, love gained. Such is life. We'll have to make do with it. We're alive, human, flesh and blood. For fuck's sake, even Plants have the ability to adapt. So do animals. If us, as so we claim the 'higher beings' can't be more flexible and less rigid, what makes us 'higher beings'?

I'm not referring to every single one of you out there, but you know well enough who you are.

P.S.
Anybody has any MapleStory vaccine? Please let me have that, you can have anything in return. Then I'll be able to rid my eyes of anything which has to do with M****S****. Every second, my immune system's getting weaker. Save me.

Learn more about me!
I'm too opinionated and idealistic to be your friendly neighbourhood superhero.

Credits.
Rusroulette/Adele

Shoot me.
new_u_fan@hotmail.com