A WALK TO REMEMBER
For some strange reasons, I was at Singapore Polytechnic yesterday afternoon. I wanted a conducive place to do some reading and was deciding between the national central library and the library at Jurong East. Halfway, I figured that I could possibly make do by the business library at my former school to also reminisce some good old memories.
I was rather worried by a nasty revolving metal gate which did not exist in my time when I reached the compound. It made me feel truly old. Like a thousand events had passed me by from the time I left for National Service. But did I have to scan a card by the gate to get in?
So I took smaller steps to observe how the other students
had to do it. While reaching the atrium, I was greeted with spasms of thunderous clapping, singing and cheering. I never knew that SP has transformed into a honky-tonk right after I graduated. Wasted, totally
. And I had to agree better. But the group of about a hundred students whom were clapping and singing to some catchy tune suggested a fresh men orientation which I never really had one in my life, being the unusually deprived stud that I am.
Stud - Slang.
a man, esp. one who is notably virile and sexually active -dictionary.comcouldn't agree more.
As I excitedly surveyed the place for new changes, I recognized a couple of faces who walked by with the exact same old bearing - hard gelled hair, neatly pressed shirts, brown leather shoes and the expressions of a i-know-it-all veteran. They were my lecturers whom had perhaps forgotten me. These men had taught literally thousands of students in their lives. To top it all, I was a frequent absentee. And unlike secondary school teachers who bother to remind the parents to bang their kids hard, my lecturers did not like the idea of paying much attention to deliquents who did not like school. They could still look at you in a funny way like you were some transfered student even in the 9th week of lecture.Who are you? New student?
He asked. His thick glasses slowly unveiling those pair of curious frowning eyes.Your student actually
. Kev answered sheepishly. I slept throughout your past 8 lessons. I'm actually lifting my head to take a breather. Do we have a problem here, mister?
So I took a little walk around the school, from the business blocks to the middle sections where the engineering students were to look for a nice spot to settle down. It must have been a term break period because the once clamorously crowded tables were now empty. I could almost hear a pin fall to the ground and a bacteria languishing in pain. It was literally soulless.
And being inspired to be a better boyfriend and homemaker, I was fervently studying Maximized Manhood.
And my girl told me that I needed alot of what I was reading. Hmmm .. I just couldn't decipher what she meant with my limited understanding of the female species. Heh. I never understooded her
And these were my final year project group mates who made up of all the slackest guys in our class. But we still made it through in the end.
One of the guys in the picture (not telling who) had this crazy fetish of burning his own leg hair with fire. So typically, he would borrow a lighter from one of our smoker friends, pluck out a strand of hair from his black forest and ignite a flame. And then the entire air-conditioned tutorial room would stink like some rodent had died. And once, he deposited some precious urine of his into a cup and placed it in the computer lab thinking that someone would fancy a cup of free warm chrysanthemum tea. He walked off after that. I bet he was right. There was also one time he got pissed with the toilet cleaner and decided to punish him by recklessly peeing onto the central ground area of the toilet. It felt like he was watering some invisible plants on the ground. It was definitely a hell-of-a experience those days! Finally, these S-O-Bs ganged up and gave me a wedgie which tore my favourite Hush Puppies underwear on my birthday. My first wedgie, how can I ever forget?
Some photos taken during poly days!
And though it tires me sometimes, I really miss walking home with my baby and receiving that much-deserved hug.
This is my little miss chatterbox who is probably asleep right now.
And I better get settled down quickly because she has been nagging that I sleep too late. And that my double eye bags are also appearing. I also realised I have high cheek bone.
My English is bad. Not horrific I hope. At least that's what my Mum thinks.You sure you can cope in mass comm? Those students their english very good one leh. You so fickle huh?!
No my Mum didn't actually say that. She has a respectable degree of poise. And of course you could find a fair share in my demeanor. Heh. But she probably meant along those lines.
And I was a little dampened and apprehensive at first. Actually I still feel like shit now.
I believe I can write decently. Let me illustrate to you what I've acquired all my years as a student.
Understand, understood and understooded at its superlative.
No! "understooded" doesn't exist if you didn't realise. It's singlish. More than that, it's just bad English. Yes, like mine.
Consider the following ..
Auntie speaks: I just understooded why my hubby don't wanna make me sweet sweet lovee to me night after night.
So gradually, as "understooded" propagates among ugly housewives' conversations, it gradually becomes verbally acceptable. And then as more kids start learning from their mothers and begin putting "understooded" in their essays, the teachers get fooled and the whole system screws up.
So now, has anyone understooded me?
MOZZIES ARE EVIL
I had a bad night and only 4 hours of sleep. Technically, I figured that my body could deal with a minimum of 4.5 hours of sleep a day without suffering from an erectile dysfunction. No, I'm just kidding. But any lesser, I'll catch a bug or fever the day after. It's like a inherent triggering alarm system that forces a shutdown.
So, I had a couple of drinks that night at a friend's party. 2 vodka shots and 3 glasses of cocktail. And I was soon gone with the wind. I have to admit that I was drinking like a cow only because
the beverages were on the house! So I danced to the singapore beat and did the Singaporean thing. HDB AUNTIE KIASU MODE ACTIVATED!
I found myself hanging in an euphoric state somewhere between being a dead chicken and a boneless chicken when the alcohol fused with my blood like a fat recruit running into a low wall. In fact, it was quite painful being a boneless chicken. But I managed to puke suavely before I reached my house in a gentlemanly fashion. It was truly a sight to behold. Mediacorp should have been there to film down my award winning act. Could have just gotten best supporting actor. For I roared like a true blue Merlion.
RAWR! RAWR! RAWR! RAWR! RAWR! RAWR! RAWR! RAWR!
Under the dim lights, I could still see that my puke was a nice mixture of vodka, cranberry juice, some slices of shredded vegetables and macaroni soup I had earlier for dinner. Definitely a delight! I figured that if I were to add some beaten eggs into it and put it into a frying pan, I could whip up some real good omelette!
Also, I tugged myself into bed shortly and was awakened by some friendly mosquitoes that came to pay me a visit. So I got out of bed, killed two of them and realised that I couldn't get back to sleep after a grisly murder. Disillusioned, I powered on my computer and launched Warcraft, which my girlfriend still hates big time.
Here's Clarence flashing his wounded bandaged finger and Ping trying out the ET stunt.
OUR HERO MAS SELAMAT
The name of Mas Selamat
has been ringing in every corner of Singapore. I see his face plastered on glossy posters everywhere in buses, shopping malls and condominiums. Since Singapore has developed such an affection for this dude, we could just crave a statue of him and put him in our synagogues. Even my friends are putting his photos as wallpapers and screen savers on their mobile phones. And on the Internet, DOTA players are nicknaming themselves after his name. So we can have more than one Mas Selamat
playing different heros in one game. Seriously, I've never seen a Muslim man other than Osama Bin Laden but of course, receiving that much of publicity from the public. So failed rockstars should just inspire to bomb airports. That way, they're certain to have their fair share of glossy prints.
I was talking to a friend via MSN yesterday. And boy - he was eager to test out his new webcam. So I did a couple of screen shots and oh well, let's see ..
Never mind me. I was just bring obnoxious and naughty.
I love my new watch cus it makes me look spunky!
Will get a real one when I start working and make lotsa money! ;>
I suspected someone tampered with my 11B today!
OMG! It must be the ORD clerk! ;>
It feels so easy to dismiss God and attribute it to coincidence or pure luck each time a prayer is answered or a need met.
Maybe it's just humane, or me?
Some three weeks ago, I conveniently walked away leaving my sweet old Fujifilm F11 on some random bench after seeing my baby home. And it felt like I had lost a part of me when I realised that my camera was missing - like waking up to 9 fingers in the morning or something. Now, discounting the fact that I'm a cam-he-whore
(I know that sounds crude), the camera still had a certain sentimental value which meant a great deal to me. It's like thrashing your first ever worn crocodile underpants. Okay, I take that back. I would actually have it all burnt with crimson and salt it if it's all stained with unexplainable yellow patches, covered with worm holes and all the loosened and wrinkled old-granny-styled
rubber band that bit onto the waist.
Right, that's big time grotesque.
Anyway, it so happened that I was accompanying my parents to buy an MP3 player yesterday at the IT fair when my Dad decided to get me a new camera. Before he made the purchase, he wore a secret frown on his face only I could see. My mum was standing at the side obviously lukewarm to his decision. But I knew so clearly that it was a love gesture even though they were annoyed by the fact that I could so conveniently lose my stuff. Sometimes they make me feel like a little boy who needs some more time to grow up. Akin to Hugh Grant who needed more time to grow up in the movie - About A Boy.
SHALL BE ADDED UNTO ME
Yet seek ye his kingdom, and these things
shall be added unto you. Luke 12:31
My dad just blessed me with a Canon IXUS 75.
I'm overjoyed because now I can take photos!
LOVE KEEPS YOU TALKING
've always enjoyed strolling with Charlene because she amazes me with her idiosyncrasies, which many times inspire me a great deal. But one particular day, I wrestled with some excess energy and placed her on top of a green box which they called a bin.
So here's my baby flashing her mega-watt smile on a dustbin. And she probably wouldn't believe me even if I would to tell her that she had looked astounding stunning that day. Heh.
Being that male chauvinist pig years ago, I used to advise my male friends that being the guy in the relationship, we should not give in too much to the girlfriends and only meet them like once a blue moon lest we reveal our lack of masculinity and desperation for attention.
You know how guys have to act tough to appear strong, fearless and totally competent?
It's in our blood and there's nothing the girls could ever do to figure that out. Much less understand that trait.
But Charlene makes me want to see her everyday. And there's little to what I can do to figure that out. Funny it seems. Must be a love potion she gave me. Or some kind of drug.
That girl again. She's such a wonder (:
THE LOVE FOR HIS FAMILY
This is stark oxymoron.
But I love family of God because it is so imperfectly perfect.
It is imperfect because it consists of members whom are so imperfect in their way. Yet it has sufficient room by grace for people to stumble and fall without being condemned, marginalized and put away.
And that is why we're set apart from the rest of the world.