I'm definitely not siding with the international terror network. Thanks to their death sprees, I am now burdened with luggage woes: I cannot bring my toothpaste and creams on board, lest the air pressure should alter my sanity and create in me a death monster, eager to build bombs out of Listerine Antiseptic Mouthwash. If it was a two hour flight, d'accord. But a shortage of creams and other liquids/gels for more than seven hours is pure torture. Add to that the vicious smell of airplane food and the intolerable ear popping moments and that is why I don't like to fly.

biography of a small metal object

The Marquis de Sade called me last week to say that he wanted his insanity back.

Having been possessed by some supernatural heat wave that descended upon my quiet suburbian neighbourhood, I was unreluctant and unrelenting, and often speaking in my sleep. A nap, any pediatrician will tell you (for a superlunary consultation fee), is a good thing. Having outgrown child status, I have yet to outgrow this philosophy. I take it very seriously. I nap at all times a day, not just once a day. It is a victimless crime: I nap alone, quietly, and myself harvest the objectionable fruits of spending too much time lying horizontal - a bigger bottom.

My bottom is big enough to rule the great firmament.

"My bottom is big enough to rule the great firmament." (It looks better and less ignominious in parentheses.)

Thus began a resusciation of my gym locker key. Hitherto disregarded and plainly ignored, it has since been allowed to leave the claustraphobic confines of my dresser drawer. I must announce in public (even if it be a cyber public, and a non-existent, deaf cyber public) that it has served its purpose well - never have I encountered such a smooth-turning key, so beautiful in its design, angular yet rounded, and rounded my bottom must be! Upon my gravestone will my gym key be saluted and honoured.

Of course, I regretfully anticipate the day when (my) arrant slothfulness will once again repudiate the poor gym locker key. To its wooden jail cell it will go, while the bottom of its unpardonable gaoler swells and expands ever disgracefully.

Ipso facto, I write this short historical account of my gym locker key (it is at present unable to write its own autobiography) to remember it, before I again forget it.

thank you iskandar for distracting me

If I get a C for my term paper, it's because of Iskandar and his warped mind:



Incapable of fully concentrating, I found out first about the vaginal dentata, a pregnant man, and Andy Roddick's perverted inclinations.

word.

In an effort to make a lot of money and become as famous as Britney's head back when it was still bald, I decided I would try to make the greatest sandwich the world has ever seen:


Great sandwich.

The greatest sandwich.

Ah, what a difference a hand makes.

in an effort to escape:

I'm being a really cheeky bastard (whose father happens to be well and alive) by not writing my essay. I am justifying my cheekiness by believing in and propagating the idea that my eyes are hurting from staring too much at the computer screen reading articles for an impressive bibliography. Yet, in characteristically contradictory tradition, I am here blogging. My eyes hurt less this way. I promised myself I will start work after this post - it is a lot easier to break promises that are made to yourself.

I discovered that I really like the smell of cigarettes and cologne. But then someone reminded me that it wasn't actually a recent discovery.
I wanted to borrow books from the library but I was beaten to it. Zbyszek calls them the Rednecks; I call them the Shits.
Kirsten congratulated me on the neatness of my room but Danie was shocked that that could be considered neat because it really isn't except by my standards.
One of the cats took a crap on my bedroom floor and I took advantage of the moment to spray Dettol all over since my mother usually hates it when I break into germ-killing song and dance. Over dinner in the canteen I realised people in school actually are psychotic in the literal sense of the word.
In one day alone, I logged into Facebook about 15 times. I need to delete my account.
Wei tagged me as a bottle of poison.
I might actually be doing something right for once.
Vicky is getting married on Saturday and I have nothing to wear.
I found out that my greatest talent is time wasting.
I met a model and found that she was actually not that hot so fairness and justice was thus restored to the universe.
I have accepted that I am gargantuan and will not even bother to diet - hope is lost.
Asya has tickets to The Rakes but because of my bad time planning skills, I had to turn her down.
Everyday, I have lost one day.

Quotes to take home:

"You know it's time
That we grow old and do some shit"
-Broken Social Scene

"It’ll be so long until it’s soon"
-The Fiery Furnaces

"Sometimes they rock and roll
I'd rather stay at home in real life"
-Wolf Parade

"Daylight appears through the curtains and nobody cares"
-Camera Obscura

allaroundbackgroundsound: Black Cat - Broadcast; Here Comes the Summer - The Fiery Furnaces

the dig-up

Trying to clear up my hard disk, I find the weirdest things.


This is me in 2005.


This is our bizarre train moment.


This is "the shizz".

Suddenly I feel like Danie, marking her major milestones.

chance encounters

Home. In my room.

I am flipping through "Contemporary Islamic Thought" pretending to be a diligent and productive member of society when, between Page 264 and Page 265 I find a note.

It's from a reporter's pad. Lined paper. The average off the shelf A'Zone essential. It has no name, no date, nothing distinguishing about it, except that in blue ink and happy handwriting there is this:

"I love life but
I have too many
suicidal thoughts since
I was 15 years old.
I am 20 now, and
I'm still a walking contradiction."

This is the saddest chance encounter but in some ways, extremely beautiful.

the ___________ one

Sources have confirmed this morning that I have ___ been making a best effort at being a productive contributor to the blogosphere. The combined effect of self-ruin packaged in the fun and exciting disguise as The Sims 2, coupled with excruciating tree-culling capabilities needed to print and reprint lecture notes are responsible for this tragedy.

Most important of all, there have been no new developments and I refuse to succumb to the temptation of commenting on fugitive JI leaders, even if I am right now writing an essay on the JI. Six books from the central library are guests in my bedroom and although the deadline is four days away they have remained as yet unopened by me. I am not going to be the Straits Times' tool at appearing in touch with the internet - a "netizen". No MSK (abbreviation deliberate) discourses for the moment.

__________. The blanks are here as a type of code. Not of the morse variety. But still a code of equal credibility especially since it has been invented for the sole purpose of letting _____ know that this post is for ___. This is my version of what people like to term a "shout out" even when no actual shouting our outing is involved.

____.