Funny.
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Loading ...Monthly Archive for September, 2007
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My girlfriend saw this flower hanging from a tree at East Coast Park, and ask me to photograph it. So I whipped out my Nikon P5000, steadily compose the frame, and hit the button. Turns out quite well.
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Loading ...(Note: All photos, except for the one with doggy god, are from sherlaya.com)
Singaporeans are quite out of it nowadays.
This is elephant god.
This is GuanYin.
This is monkey god.
Bringing the ice-cream sellers tonnes of money.
Being a proud Singaporean, I have found my own god as well.
This is my doggy god.
Please pray upon my doggy god. I found it along East Coast Park.
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Loading ...Puts O2Jam and DJmax players to shame too…
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Loading ...Visited Clarke Quay with my girlfriend. Left the place just as fireworks began. Damn.
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Perhaps someone should call that girl, so that at least she would know the difference between a pencil, and a penis.
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Loading ...So, once again the public were given what they wanted. Too bad they will be cheated of it this time, along with innocent parties.
Once a upon a time, life was good. University graduates were regarded as the true elite workforce, intelligent teens who were quickly employed even before they graduated. Then came the opening of a second, and a third University. There suddenly become so many University graduates out there. Being a University graduate has lost most of its value, yet the older generation still clunked tightly to the impression that Universities are key to the riches, and caned, paid and worked their children so to help them get into Universities.
“Going to an overseas University”, a hobby commonly sported by the upper middle classes of Singaporeans who had the unfortunate fate of being blessed with spoilt kids who are good for nothing other than spending, became another phrase for a more complex one, “My son is so bullish he can’t even go to a old and run down University in Singapore. I have no choice but to use my money to get him in one.” The lower middle class, however, could affort no such luxury when their kid couldn’t even cut it. They want in on the University wangon too. And since a few of them are educated enough to use Email, they wrote to MOE and the newspaper to throw their weight around.
Thus a forth University was born, and Universities like NUS, NTU and SMU had to increase their intake. My friends from schools like NUS and NTU are already reporting that they had to sit on the stairs for full 2 hours lectures due to the lack of seats (or too much students). If the intakes were to increase I can only imagine students, on top of bringing laptops to Universities, would also need to bring portable chairs. The alternative would be many flat-butted University graduates with back problems. Health problem aside, the value and prestigue that comes with being a University graduate becomes even more diluted, with many University graduates (”taking the risk” or “the path less travelled by” as reported in newspaper) becoming taxi driver and cake shop bakers.
Perhaps in the past the top 3% of every cohort made it to the University. In the future the figure may be 20%. And then 40%. And then 80%. Who knows?
Perhaps a newer form of education insitution needs to be established in order to distinguish the truly distinct ones from those bullish one that can barely make it. Maybe a Mebisity should be establish. And when too many Mebisity were established, Gigasity should come into play as well. Maybe my great great great great great great grandchildrn would finally join the workforce at the age of 85.
Education is becoming more and more bullish, isn’t it?
(Disclaimer: The entry is written to reflect Weikiat’s opinion and thoughts about the matter, and may in no way reflect the truth of what is going on. Given the fact that he is held captive by SAF with the sentence National Service all the while, it is already a miracle that he got around to writing this entry in the first place. So take what he says with a pinch of salt. A big pinch, that is.)
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Loading ...1) Logitech VX Revolution Wireless Laser Mouse ($129)
2) Audigy 2 ZS Notebook (Price unknown)
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Loading ...He casually stretched himself, appearing to be trying to surpress a yawn that had finally swam its way to the top of his windpipe, as people of all shapes and colours hurried pass him. He tug up his shirt to review his smooth, rounded belly, and his right hand met with it to scratch it. His hand soon moved south and disappeared into his jeans, and through the tight material of the jeans, it can be seen that he had grabbed hold of something in the hairy mess underneath. He repeatedly stroke it, while standing behind a cute looking girl in her 20s. My hands went out of control and transformed themselves into two very tight fists, but my arms refused to put them into good use. Soon, as quickly as he showed up, he left. Perhaps after making a disgusting sticky mess in his pants. I could have videotaped the whole thing, and send the photo to the police. However, I had just booked out from Jurong Camp, and possess no such equipments. Man in his 40s, with superbly curly hair is all I can say, as a warning to all females transversing at Boon Lay MRT station.
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I sat and looked at him. His fingers were wrapped tightly around the handle of a plastic bag, which held 2 fruit juice cartoons. He has the contented smile of a loving father, who just saw a great bargain at Food Fair held at Suntec Convention Hall, and had purchase something to bring home and share with his beautiful children and lovely wife at home. One may wonder though, why is he alone? Where is his family? Why are they not with him?
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She stroked her hair for A number of times, where A is a number too big for a pocket calculator to operate on. She then proceed to tug at the edge of her tube top, afraid that it would fall too low and reveal what it is that she did not want them to reveal. It can be said that her reluctance to reveal her breasts and what her tube top is trying to do are constantly at odds with each other. It took constantly tugging on her part to achieve a dedicate state of balance. A similar war is also being fought between her and her super mini-skirt, of which a single look would bring thousands of colorful imagination in the minds of any males who happened to glance at it. I was an exception, because I was not glancing at it. I was staring. All the imagination had already exhausted themselves.
Her stylist LV bag was causing her immense pain, with big red rashes near her elbow. Her feet was labeled with plasters, no doubt bring tonnes of profit to its manufacturers. One day I would start a company selling both high heels and plasters. I would be a millionaire.
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In a short span of a few years though, the cock of the first guy is going to be burnt when he was beng incinerated, the fruit juices will be just nothing but water on its endless journey of being converted to urine, then drinking water by Singapore’s Newater plant, and then to urine again. The girl’s breasts would be hanging on her like balloons that were one week old, and she would constantly run into health problems with her feet. Her super mini-skirt is something she use to wipe the windows of her children’s apartment with.
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And as more years pass, evidents of their existence vanished. Life still go on for countless others, who shares similar perverseness, vanity and minds. And then they are too, forgotten.
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We are but a single machine of chemical reactions interacting physically in this world for a short period of time. Appearances, looks doesn’t matter. Consciousness is the valuable asset we have in our life, and life should be enjoyed.
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If you died pretty, you will still be burnt into ashes, or decayed into nothingness.
If you died happy, fire and forces of nature won’t touch you. You remain happy.
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The perverted bastard is happy doing what he is doing.
The man is happy thinking about his family.
The girl is happy wearing clothes which are at odds with herself.
Nothing is wrong, so long as the individual performing the action is happy.
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Yet one’s happiness caused another’s discomfort or sadness.
Laws were put into place; masturbating in the public is an offence, no matter how happy you feel about doing it.
To ensure the lack of discomfort of sadness in others, people were forced to be unhappy.
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Individual happiness does not equal to communal happiness. In fact, both acts as reciprocal of one another most of the time.
Remove everyone around you, and there will be nobody to take away your happiness.
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But then, there would be nobody to bring happiness to you either.
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Observe; think.
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Loading ...It is freaking long, isn’t it?
Freaking long since I last
1) wrote a good blog entry
2) comment on the latest happenings in blogosphere
3) enjoy a full week of freedom
4) studied
5) hold a pen
6) study together with my girlfriend
7) the list goes on and on.
It is also freaking long, the time I’ve spent with my girlfriend, Si hui, whom I proposed to a Changi Airport on 020305. Indeed, our relationship soar. We have been together for 30months now, and we have also survived 1/4 of the tortures that army can throw onto our relationship.
We are strong! We rocks!
I love you dear! Happy 30th monthsary! Sorry I couldn’t get you anything because my bookout on friday was stupidly delayed.
Hope I get to go to AMS asap, and that it is a stay-out vocation. Then at least we can web-cam each other every night:)
I love you!
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