You Look Bad Ass.

Awwww. I got this from Ally’s blog. You’re right, it is the craziest class ever! :)

Heh heh heh.

Was this our official class photo ah?

Don’t be too sad k hui. You’re indirectly there. Our classes were foreverxxx at battle.

Seems like it’s only been a practiced flick of our green ties backwards that we were struggling with dy/dx math, having an adventure with Scout and Boo Radley, reading loudly in class when someone’s handphone started beeping (these handy devices were forbidden then), deftly mixing potions in chemistry classes, poking at earthworms, running away from roaches, throwing eraser dust / staple bullets around, hitting tennis balls out of court and onto the busy road, getting 2137126981232 demerit points collectively as a class, checking out really hot girls, shoving one another into the rain, all those wildly successful class projects (like the friggin’ Haunted House [which was really really really dark and scary], painted floor mural, skits), heading to Serene Centre after school, and of course trying to beat the queue for the Malay stall. And so on.

I don’t really miss the uniform, but I miss the conveniences of a tie. I’d vote it the most functional part of the uniform. A definite keeper.

-

Work. Is.                        Worksome.

Deepest sighs to the ends of the earth past the Van Allen belts and then onwards to the Kuiper Belt and then Oort Belt and then to the nearest supermassive black hole and the Milky Way and then to the Local Group and yada yada.

Ugh I think I’m falling sick. Or maybe I’m already sick.

Must be the office air. ;(

-

Nevertheless.

Off to a tourism enclave!

P.S. Cher, please greet the fish for me when I’m gone k! :)

Pay Careful Attention.

Watch The Golden Compass official trailer here now.

NOW.

LIKE RIGHT NOW.

Oh my goodness. I simply cannot wait for it to be out.

To watch it on screen?

It’s like a (good) dream come true.

♥

HURRY UP AND WATCH NOW THANKS ‘KAY!

Now my heart is,

Returned to Sister Winter.

I love this picture. It’s so damn apt, you know.

I should just turn this into some image-blog or something that showcases a selection of meaningful and awesome pictures, eh.

There Is A Pink For You Out There.

I look forward to lunch time every day. :)

Because that’s when Cher lets down her hair (ha ha ha).

And when I get to match my blue lanyard with the blue HL carton cap.

Sometimes we are afraid it may rain during lunch time, so we bring a brolly along.

-

I saw the most gorgeous Guess bag the other day. It’s uncharacteristically Guess, and man, its just. So. Damn. Gorgeous. ARGH.

Sigh.

It’s a pity my finances are committed to other plans. So I’m effectively always broke.

Deeper sigh.

-

Today, Jems crawled over to my lap spontaneously and promptly deposited herself onto me; and with her little arms wrapped securely around my neck, proceeded to bestow upon me the most delightful babble ever. And I thought of Uncle Anson immediately.

The end.

Grand Machine No. 12

This damn machine, this damn machine, this broken head doesn’t work.
So they’re selling it off again.
These crooked legs, these twisted arms, these tired feet lost their worth.
Soon they’ll dismantle them.

But we’re all just part of some giant grand machine.
Too big to really understand.
But we’ll do our jobs till we break down and fall.
Now we just sleepwalk. We drift through the week.
A dead procession always dragging its feet. Well, come on.
Our hands are swollen. We all need to sleep.
But there’s no time, just stitch us up so we’ll keep.

We’re all just part of someone’s elaborate plan.
Chess pieces in some grandiose scheme.
But we’ll do our jobs till we break down and fall.

Electric President – Grand Machine No. 12

I love Electric President muchly.

And I find it a most enormous pity that I can’t find their self-titled album in Singapore. :(

/Edit. Alright, so I’ve just checked. A new album, Ghosts is supposedly out already. How come I don’t see it in all good record stores here?/

The vocalist does not sing with the bleedin’ emo spurting and splashing all about like Gnecco and Buckley (although I thrive on that sort of good outpour while clenching onto my brolly tightly). More like blending in with the simply arranged music, y’all. Nothing overtly fancy nor overdone. It’s a mild, warm, moving and engaging sound. Makes you contemplate. It’s an amble-along kinda flava, I’d say. It’s especially perfect for some after-work chillout, relax, walk-home music. It’s similar to, say, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time.

Yes. That’s right. I know that’s a book. So?

My descriptive skills fail me because my eyes are closing and my brain has started to shut down. I shall pursue this another time.

Meanwhile,

Here is a dignified penguin for us to nod in approval at his elegant tophat.

 

To Contemplate Something Curious.

I am fairly certain that my laptop is gradually dying on me.

Gradually, because it’s just becoming r e a l l y  s l o w. 
Like how time s l o w l y ticks away a day for me to head home from work.

And also because my wireless connection is becoming very, very screwy.

So let’s do a jig with a pig in a bit of a wig if I manage to post this up and since you have now got past that bit of a twister I shall assume you are presently multitasking by finding a pig in a bit of a wig and reading this pointless ramble at the same time. Bravo. I give you, some thunderous applause for your effort. There you go.

I don’t rightly know what to say about work. It’s pretty exciting and possibly glamorous (I mean, g-l-a-m-o-r-o-u-ssss) at times, and of course, how can we forget the supposedly elevated, prized experience that is so often attached to the job’s benefits. I loathe to be ungrateful for a chance but sometimes I just well, want to just screw experience for now. Just let me stay at home and read five million story books and watch Heroes while munching on Oreos can? Thanks.

While I flick my hair sententiously and gaze ponderingly at that particular part of my sony ericsson phone which emits mysterious, albeit regular and periodic flickers of green light, an epiphany (probable spelling error again, I know) pays me a sudden visit. It is telling me to curb complaining and think about how I can be an asset instead.

Snort.

It’s been a long while since I did my pirate thang. Kinda miss it.

There’s some weird problem with my MSN. Seems like it suddenly acquired some special kind of firewall or barrier or filter that prevents me from communicating with other non-human lifeforms. Isn’t it called Mass Sentient Network, after all? Very frustrating, and very mysterious indeed.  Sorry alien. It confounds me profoundly.

I shall flick my hair somemore and peer into my humble glass of water tomorrow for some inspiration.

Am off.

To Contemplate The Mud,

said my boss today. He has these moments of hilarity that crack us up.

In other moments of hilarity, the monofone gig last night was just brilliant.
It was a fabulous, fabulous end to a horrid, horrid day. We had an AWSMZ time, did we not? Totally don’t need no crack to crack ourselves up. We be cracking ourselves up in no time at all, y’all. :)

By Brandi Milne, y’all. Isn’t it just gorgeous.

And thankyouthankyouthankyou to Cher and Shuangz for helping me to buy a pair of comfy and cheap flats! Heels and I have this perpetual enmity in which I’m always the loser. Without the timely shoes, I’d have DIED otherwise. Become paralyzed or something. ♥

P.S. Welcome, comrade to wordpress! :)

AND.

P.P.S. AWSMZ parking skills yesterday, 4th! TOTALLY ONE-SHOT STRAIGHTTT! And yes of course. Lunch on me when we’re in youknowwhere wearing youknowwhat. :)

AND.

P.P.P.S. WHY CAN’T I WATCH HEROES EP 21 ONLINE? WHY?

This.

I cannot wait.

Therefore, Goodnight.

Ooh.

I like. I mean, just check out the outfit, please. Check out that hair too.

Ooh.

P.S. Credit goes to hui for chancing upon this sparkly gem. Whooey!

Peter Petrelli Pleases Pumpkins.

“Let’s take a picture, y’all! Smile!”

 

“Hey! where ARE you yan??”

“Down here, y’all! Man you’re so damn tall, Jack!”

-

Am off to clean some windows, y’all.

Peter Petrelli, I beg your excusable pardon for my gushing, is. So. Hot. Thanks. Bye.