diary of a madman

Radical transparency is a management method where nearly all decision making is carried out publicly.

All draft documents, all arguments for and against a proposal, the decisions about the decision making process itself, and all final decisions, are made publicly and remain publicly archived. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radical_transparency)

Why is there a need to have a structure in an organisation, when decisions made “at the top” remains status quo? Do individual member votes count, if the people in power and authority decide to hold “further discussions” and ultimate decide to act against said decision, or to reverse a particular decision?

Hierarchial structures in an organisation, regardless of size, is of utmost importance because it legitimizes the organisation, and provides a clear leader, or leaders, for its followers, or members, to look to for guidance, advice, and to settle and resolve conflicts.

However, for an organisation to be truly legitimate and recognised as such, hierarchial structures are not the only things that would play a part, but should work in tandem with transparency and accountability.

Though the concept of transparency should be perceived as

Transparency is introduced as a means of holding public officials accountable and fighting corruption. When government meetings are open to the press and the public, when budgets and financial statements may be reviewed by anyone, when laws, rules and decisions are open to discussion, they are seen as transparent and there is less opportunity for the authorities to abuse the system in their own interest. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transparency_%28humanities%29)

it can be “dumbed down” and seen as a means of holding individuals in positions of power accountable to decisions made by either by said individual, or by a group that includes said individual, without prior knowledge or consultation of other ordinary members of the organisation.

Some people may argue that transparency and accountability should only be important where the decisions made are of great importance, or if there’s money involved in the decision. But I say that’s total bullshit, because irregardless of the position you hold, as long as you make a decision, you make it an open, and a completely transparent decision, explaining to members and committee members alike why you made the particular decision. If you asked for a vote prior to decision making, yet changed your mind after a “discussion” with the committee members, then make that clear and make a statement explaining and detailing the factors that led to a “discussion”, and ultimately, the revamped decision.

It doesn’t matter how important you think your organisation is, or is not. It doesn’t matter how important you think you are, or are not. It doesn’t even matter how much of a difference you think it’ll make, or will not make.

We bitch, whine and complain about how much lack of transparency we have to endure as Singaporeans, and how the government only makes privy information that works in their benefit. How often have we took a step back and examined if we as logical, educated Singaporeans have made this leap of faith in our daily lives, and in the organisations and committees that we dedicate ourselves to?

Some updates for you trolls out there still reading my blog.

I ditched my mac book pro for a dell inspiron 1420 (2.2ghz centrino duo, 4gb ram, 250gb hdd, geforce 8400 128mb video card), and took 1st runner up for the 10th XQRJ national song writing competition with Lara’s song of “Ai This Way”.

It was a pretty productive day yesterday, though it was rather irritating as well. The sound-clowns at NTU’s surf and sweat managed to fuck up our sound, and not know how to rectify it, and best of all, forget to bring a keyboard down. That meant our keyboardist had to sit out for the gig, and Ivan had to fill in her parts. But we still managed to put up one hell of a show, and the stage, we rocked. \m/

XQRJ at UCC was not much better, apart from the fact that we won. Too many goddamned Indian Chiefs, inadequete soundmen on stage, too many students on stage trying to boss us around, and fucked up monitors. My original plan was to use my 20″ k custom ride and my 14″ byzance hats, but I ended up only using my 14″ byzance hats and my yammie snare because I had all of 30 seconds to setup before the lights came on and we were live.

Zhang Pei’s song was amazing - it literally blew the audience away. The judges had nothing but praise for her during the comments section, but they did comment that her lyrics were a little simple - but hey, that’s chinese pop for you isn’t it? The 10-15 mins before the announcment of the top 3 winners felt like eternity to us (Gerald, Daniel, me)

We heard the Emcee call out our band for 3rd position, and we literally went crazy, flipping and jumping all over the place. The next thing we heard was the announcement for the grand prize. Before we could figure out wtf was going on, one of the organisers came to us and said “You’re 2nd!”

So yeah, we went crazy again. But we fucking deserved it after the amount of effort we put into it!

I hate sweaty palms.

There are different people in this world.

There are the kind that snaps at others in the morning for no reason at all.

There are the kind that probably didn’t have a good night’s sleep or had a quarrel in the morning, and decided to take it out on the first person who talks to them.

There are the kind who lack EQ, and the ability to know when to shut up.

I do not give a flying fuck if you didn’t have sex last night, or you woke up to find your boyfriend sleeping with some other girl in his room. I do not give a rat’s ass if you have lessons from 8am til 12am, or do not have a 2 day week like me. But most of all, I do not give a flyingfucking rat’s ass that you think you’re fucking incredible and talented, or that you have tons of fucking useless comments to sprout out every 5 fucking seconds.

It’s unprofessional, unneeded, unwarranted, unnecessary and uncalled for.

But most importantly of all, I don’t give a fuck if it was unintentional, unintended or unimaginably stupid.

Just do me, and the rest of the world a fucking favour, shut your fucking pie-hole, face a corner, and take a goddamned time out because I have absofuckinglutely no respect for “musicians” like that.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to live like a child, with no past to regret about, no future to worry about?

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to just live in the present, living every moment as it comes along?

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to forget everything and not remember anything?

I started out slightly amused at the way he greeted his wife with a hearty hello and a huge hug, the way he went, “Oh really.” and “Oh ok.” to everything his wife told him, from his sister’s wedding to his own son’s Ph.D. My amused smirk started fading when he said that he had “no memories, no dreams, nothing” and that his mind was “inactive and dead”. What struck me the most was the way he greeted his wife, asking her for a dance, hugging her tightly and kissing both her hands, because he “thought that he had been in a state of unconciousness for the past years, and that this was his first time seeing her in a long time.”

It may seem like a bad thing, having severe amnesia and having a memory span of 10 seconds, but then again, wouldn’t it be nice to be free of your past problems? Wouldn’t it be nice to live life without any regrets because you have no past? Wouldn’t it be nice to live your life free of stress, without the need to plan for your future and worry about what “might go wrong”?

Wouldn’t it be nice to love your loved ones the way Mr. Clive Wearing loved his?

It’s been a while since I blogged, so I guess this gives me the right to be as kaopeh as I want to be!

First of all, let’s kaopeh about stomp.com.sg, a local weblog where citizens can live their fantasies about being a journalist (citizen-journalism at its very best eh), take secret photos of people doing allegedly “illegal” things, and then MMS or email their photos to said website, for fame and fortune, though the concept of fame and fortune may differ from person to person.

Props to SPH (or whoever was smart enough to come up with this relatively ingenious idea of tapping into an almost unlimited, or probably 4 million +/-, citizen-journalists, who were willing to “work” for no monetary benefits, cpf benefits, or employee benefits), for coming up with something like that, where the 4 million +/- kiasu people in Singapore get to put their latest 3G camera/video/lasergun/nuclear missile launcher/machine gun/sex toy phone through its paces, snap photos (legal and illegal) of people and cry foul over their actions.

Examples? 3 teenagers sitting down on a crowded train, 2 sleeping and 1 engrossed in his/her story book. Caption? “Teenagers refused to give up seats for standing elderly/injured/handicapped/lame/pregnant/downright kaopehkaobu”. Said photo is usually accompanied by a rather delightfully written paragraph such as, “I was on the train this morning and it was very crowded oh gnoes. I saw 3 kids sitting down and one pretended to sleep. Oh the horror of it all. There was 102934840 old pregnant women with only 1.5 legs standing as the train jerked and shuddered and derailed. Yet the 3 teenagers did not offer their seats to the needy. What kind of education is the Singapore education system giving our teens nowadays?”

I surf through stomp.com.sg occasionally when I’m angsty and bored and generally have nothing to do, simply to marvel at Singaporeans’ ability to find fault in anything seemingly innocuous.

Ok wait, maggi and smokes time, will kaopeh again later.

I’m posting on my brother’s HP TX1000 laptop… it’s small, light, sleek and its fucking awesome. For some reason, people are in love with my 17″ Macintosh Powerbook G4 because of its huge screen, but given a choice (and a chance to), I’d gladly trade my 17″ screen for a 15″ anyday. Laptops are what they should be - light and compact enough to be used on your lap!

So… any kind soul out there who might want to be my Secret Santa? You can get me a HP TX1000… $1,400 after student discount. :-) Thanks mr Secret Santa!

p/s: mute math fucking rocks.

All I want for Christmas are really small items.

1. Etymotic ER25 musicians’ earplugs, custom moulded $150-$200
2. 20″ K custom medium ride $489 (on its way)
3. 12″ Pearl soprano maple snare
4. 16″ Paiste Signature Full Crash
5. Yamaha Flying dragon hihat stand
6. 2x boom arms
7. 80gb ipod video

If you can’t afford to get me my etymotics, feel free to get me the ER20 that isn’t custom moulded, yet is capable of reducing the noise by 20dB. All for USD$12!

Some photos’ll be up soon… as soon as I get my 20″ Zildjian K custom medium ride, 19″ Paiste Dimensions raw-medium crash, and a boom-arm for my other stuff. Oooh exciting I can’t wait.

Merry christmas to all you trolls out there too.

24 hours in a day. 7 days a week.

10 days makes for an odd time signature.

240 hours in 10 days makes for an odd time signature and an odd time.

an odd time makes for an odd week.

odd weeks makes for odd moods.

odd moods bring about the angst.

When night falls and the warmth of the day fades away to nought, it’s hard not to contemplate and think about the past, reminiscing and regretting, so some extent. Aromatic, yet pungent, acrid yet soothing, the cigarette smoke that wafts through the night sky, blurring your vision. Silence all around, safe for the occasional passing traffic. It’s not difficult to think and wallow about uselessly in past memories.

But all’s been said and done, there isn’t any point crying over spilt milk is there? Decisions, choices, mistakes, regret. It’s funny how the past can get so intertwined with the present, and probably with the future as well.

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be;
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up… To more than I can be.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up… To more than I can be.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up… To more than I can be.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up… To more than I can be.

You raise me up… To more than I can be.

…to more than I can be.

One of the few poems that I really like…

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
“Forward the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!” he said.
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Forward, the Light Brigade!”
Was there a man dismay’d?
Not tho’ the soldier knew
Some one had blunder’d.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of hell
Rode the six hundred.

Flash’d all their sabres bare,
Flash’d as they turn’d in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder’d.
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro’ the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel’d from the sabre-stroke
Shatter’d and sunder’d.
Then they rode back, but not,
Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro’ the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder’d.
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!

Okay let’s start with the pleasant stuff - the 3rd floor STEAMboat. Really quite steam… a lot of dodgy talk and a lot of jiaowei around (literally, penis talk, aka rubbish).

I’ll not bore you with my uber l33t literary abilities, but I’ll let the photos do the talking.

The pre-STEAMboat preparations:

Ivan and Khairul hard at work to get the boat to steam:

More food:

Laremy’s feast:

Dodgy-ly:

KumsungmalongCORN:

Overall it was amazing, thanks to Laremy for organising this very steamy steamboat, and to everybody who came! (Especially the konfused korean who called me a cheebye, cheebye to you too HAHA)

Ok to the more kaopeh stuff - the NUS cultural activities club did a gig at Holland Village on Sunday as part of some program organised by the RCs there, and I was amazed at the turn out, more so at the number of annoying people who complained about the “noise level”. All of the kaopeh people were residents of a condo situated just behind our stage, and all of them were Chinese.

I wonder what happened to tolerence within the community. Nobody complains when there’s a Chinese funeral, and we all know how noisy and loud it can get at unearthly hours of the night. Nobody complains when its Chinese New Year and bazaars blast cheesy chinese music daily. So why complain about a 2 hour performance?

What amazed the most was the fact that the police actually responded to the complains. I’ve made numerous police calls regarding dodgy characters loitering at my block’s void deck, delinquents playing with sparklers and vandalising public property, and the fastest response time I’ve had to date was 1 hour +.

That’s two police officers, defenders of peace and public safety, talking to Rosli, our band director. I do not condemn the police for taking their jobs seriously because we were obviously a public nuisance and making old people in the condo suicidal. Oh maybe we made some little kids pee in their pants and interrupted some adults’ love-making session. This is why our parents are required by law to pay taxes in order to pay for their salary.

But anyway, I’m going for breakfast and I’ll end my kaopeh session here. More photos:

The gear I had to lug from KR all the way to YIH where the band room/bus pickup was at:

And this is the drumset that we used. A yamaha stage custom with the older lugs (resembles a recording custom), my yamaha maple custom absolute snare (14x5.5, 6ply maple), 14″ k light hats, 15″ k dark thin crash, 17″ a custom crash, 22″ a custom ride, 10″ k splash and my yamaha dfp9310 double pedals.

Okbye.

I want to rant about people who’re chock full of self-righteousness, and people who generally think that everything different is bad - smoking, for instance.

I’m quite sure that people will read my blog and kaopeh kaobu but I extend a great big fuck you to all your clowns who’re gonna take offence at what I’m about to say.

What’s wrong with smoking? True enough its not beneficial (heck, its actually harmful) for the smoker. True enough the 2nd hand smoke is bad for whoever’s around the smoker. True enough, it makes you stink. But hey, ultimately, its our choice that we want to smoke. It’s an integral part of our daily lives, and part of our civil liberties and human rights - the right to choose. We’re young voting adults, I don’t see why we can’t choose to fuck our lives up if we have the right to decide on who rules over us with an iron fist.

I’m not denying that 2nd hand smoke is bad for whoever’s around the smoker… but if you stand near to a fucking lion, you’re bound to get mauled. So why stand near a smoker in the first place? Why bother standing near to a smoker, then wave your hands and crinkle your nose to signify your fucking displeasure? And nigga pls, the smoke from my cigarette dissipates into the fucking air faster than you can say “i love watermelons”, so if you happen to be staying one floor above, how affected can you be? If you happen to stay one floor up, and on the opposite site, what the fuck are you complaining about?

There’re more cancer causing carcinogens in all your fried food, BBQ-ed dishes, and drinks combined as compared to the damned smoke from my cigarette. Why’re you making such a big fucking hoo-hah about cigarettes and smokers anyway.

Fucking self-righteous cheebyes ought to burn in hell.

I am proud to announce that I am fina-fucking-ly done with my goddamned political science essay, with a proud total of 1630 words. The time is 0500 hours now (5 fucking am for your non-army nubs) and I have a lecture on pol science (surprise!) at 10am, which means I’ll have to wake up at 9am to wash my face, do my fucking hair and head down for lessons. I also have a EL1101E tutorial at 1300 hrs (1pm), where I’ll probably receive my fucking test back which I do not think I did very well for.

Fuckkkkkkityfuckityfuck.

FUCKKKKKKKKTHISSHITALLAHSAVEMEPLSAHHH.

For the 4th consecutive week, my Political Science lecturer has not uploaded any form of lecture notes for his Political Science lecture. His logic behind it? To force us to take notes during his lecture.

I’m not being ungrateful or lazy, but then how the fuck do you justify not providing your students with notes, or basic outlines for your lecture? How are we supposed to take notes, when all of us are taking this module for the first time, with no exposure to university life prior to this, and with no goddamned idea on what to take note of during his lecture?

It doesn’t help that he speaks like a bloody machine gun during his lecture too.

Goddamned it CCB. Doesn’t help that my tutor told us to “check with our lecturer” with regards to questions on the final examination.

Jesus H. Christ.

I really need to quit/stop smoking.

Here’s a question for all you n00b guys out there.

You walk into an empty toilet with three (3) empty urinals lined up against the wall. Urinal 1 is next to the left wall, Urinal 2 is in the middle, and Urinal 3 is next to the right wall. Which urinal would you pick to pee in?

If you selected either Urinal 1 or Urinal 3, congrats, you’re normal.

If you selected Urinal 2, congrats, you’re either fucking gay or fucking gay.

Logic behind this?

Urinal 1 and 3 have walls next to them, meaning you can shy away from the person next to you, and try to hide your dingalingalings as you do your weewee in the urinal. Furthermore, there’ll only be a maximum of ONE person next to you at all times. Urinal 2 is right smack in the middle of 2 empty urinals. You could argue that the toilet’s empty, but what if you were peeing, and two big guys (in more ways than one) walked in and used up urinals 1 and 3? Then you’d be caught in between a human sandwich, and they could steal glances at your pee-pee as you wee-wee-ed.

That would be damn gay.

In short? Don’t steal glances to your left or right when you’re fucking peeing in the toilet. Just look down and concentrate on peeing into your own fucking urinal.

CHAO TURBAN.

I swear, I fucking hate banglas on bicycles, and banglas in general. Not being racist, (maybe I am larh, but who the fuck’s keeping score?) but cheebye I reall, really, really fucking hate them with a vengeance.

I’ve had one too many experiences when banglas dash out across the road at 3fucking am in the morning, causing me to fucking step on the fucking brakes of my car. Today’s experience was the ultimate, because he dashed out across bukit panjang road, where the road’s straight and there were no fucking cars on the damned road. So I had to fucking step on the damned brake pedal, pray to God and Allah that my car wouldn’t hit him, and decelerate from 90kmph to 0kmph. Yes, and my fucking car skidded to the fucking left, so it ended up slanted on the fucking road. Before I could even get off the car to give him 1x hohseh, he disappeared. Either I saw a fucking bangla hantu, or the bangla took off his fucking clothes larh.

Cheebye banglas. Knn.

I cannot stand it when people get overly materialistic. Nobody’s perfect, that’s for sure, and everybody’s materialistic in one way or another, myself included. But when you’re materialistic at the expense of others around you, that’s just being fucking selfish.

My brother, for example, is pissing the shit out of me, by being a materialistic, selfish, and self-centered little twat. Either he’s fucking lucky, or he’s exploiting the fact that he’s damn blessed. My uncle gave him a 17″ powerbook before he entered polytechnic. Before entering poly, he claimed that RP used windows as their main O/S, so my uncle gave him a 15″ macbook pro, and I used the powerbook pro for my university work. My dad offered to get me a new laptop, but I told him to save the money for my brother in poly. At the very fucking same time, I told my dad to give me minimal pocket money, and that I’d work to pay for my own expenses, because as the older sibling, I’m far more mature and street smart than my brother is, and I know that I can juggle work and school at the same time. So my brother spoils the laptop, and sends it for repair. Twice. Money earned from a part time job didn’t go to his own sufficiency. It went to his guitars. I’m not condemning him for buying guitars - I’ve blown almost $4000 on my drums alone… but 90% of the money was my own.

What pissed me off was the fact that he got my dad to buy him a new HP tablet PC, claiming that his powerbook was spoilt, and that his school required his laptop daily, so repairing it was out of the question. I told him that I could get him a laptop from university at a lower price as compared to RP, but he said it was urgent so he insisted on getting one today. At the same time, he smsed me, asking me about the price of a certain guitar in yamaha that ran in the excess of $2000, followed by “If its $2000+ I’ll buy it soon. Reasonable price.”

WTF? So basically I work like a fucking dog with no social life to fund myself, just so that the money my dad can save on me goes to the little brat to buy his guitars and be materialistic?

This will offend some people, so if you’re super-fucking religious, don’t bother reading down, and take it as though I’ve ended my post.

My brother tithes 10% of his pocket money, along with weekly donations to church. I’m not condemning that too, but I do feel very strongly against it, especially when the pocket money he gets comes from the money saved on mine.

Some of you will say that I waste money on my cigerettes too - but hey, fuck you all. That’s the money I get from Yamaha and other ad hoc gigs or jobs, so I burn it the way I want to burn it.

Cheebye fucking annoying. Seriously.

Nabei pubor. I dropped my phone three fucking times today alone. Heng there’re no scratches if not I’ll be cursing like a sailor by now. Not that I wasn’t cursing like a sailor in my car just now lar, but it would have been worse.

I swear, today has got to be the worst fucking day of my life. I found THE nirvana for tv shows online, and I had to head down for 4 fucking hours of useless tutorials, in which I’ve had my fair (or unfair) share of idiots talking nonsense about mIRC, ICQ, and idiots dissing SPH, PAP and the government of Singapore, without any fucking solid evidence to back it up.

I’m not a patriotic Singaporean, nor do I claim to be pro-PAP. But for fucks’ sake, when you make comments like “Oh PAP is very bad”, or “Oh SPH is bullshit because they only report what the government wants them to report”, back these fucking claims up with fucking facts lar knn.

Fucking hell -.-

Was having a beer (well, Wee Ping was having a beer, I was having a smoke and some pao pao char, or bubble tea) on the roof top and we were talking about random stuff like room choices and stuff like that with Lin, when I brought up the topic of how many final year students would be left in D Block next year when the current batch graduates. It’s kinda scary when I brought it up because after a while, I realised that my time will come soon.

It’s not that I’m dreading my academic progress - I’m actually quite proud of myself for making it this far, taking into consideration how fucked up my JC life was, and how a particular teacher in TCHS actually recommended that I consider heading over to a polytechnic after my ‘O’ Levels (no I’m not implying that polytechnic students are not as academically capable as JC students. My own younger brother’s currently schooling in Republic Polytechnic, and one of my good friends, Fysh is also a student in Temasek Poly). I’m actually dreading leaving this place and entering the society as a working, tax-paying adult, where stress doesn’t come from essays and readings, or mid-term tests, but from finding a decent, long-term job, financial security, buying and mantaining a car, getting a house and working to provide a good life for the family-to-come.

People always say that time flies when you’re having fun, but isn’t it ironic that time flies when you’re not having fun, trying to cram as much readings into your brain before the sunrise? Time fucking flew (alliteration ftfw), semester 1’s halfway through, and before I can even say “ninabeicheebyekaninahorgaokan” it’ll be semester 2. And then the next thing you know, you might start calling me Prof. Cheong (okay I kid, I kid.) Harhar.

Anyway, refer to my previous post about ugly boxers and low skinny jeans. Here’s a rather nice image for you guys who’re mugging your brains out to fantasize. :-) Enjoy.

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Blogs are a personal part of our lives. We call them our online diaries, our online journals, and an outlet for us to express emotions and thoughts that we cannot express normally in our daily lives. Therefore, I conclude that blogs are our very own psychiatrists, because they listen to all our shit and our problems, yet do not give us tangible solutions - only placeboes that make us feel emotionally well, and therefore, happier and ultimately, spiritual satisfaction.

I do not disagree that everybody’s free to express his/her own views on their blogs - what’s the fucking point of having a blog if you’re gonna be moderating your own posts and posting things that only please the general public/readers? I was just reading through Xiaxue’s blog, and as controversial as some of her posts are, I have to admit that this is one lady with balls. More balls than most male bloggers that I know of. True enough, I don’t exactly think that some of her stuff are exactly politically correct, but I admire her for having the balls to be herself and to-hell-with-everybody-else-who-disagrees. The flak she’s drawn is insane - I know, I read through her comments because I ran out of DVDs to watch.

As personal as our blogs may be, ultimately we still have to take some form of responsibility for what we post and blog about. There’s no such thing as “This is my blog, so fuck off if you don’t like it” because as much as this indeed, is your blog, this isn’t your internet, and everybody else probably has a comment or two to make.

Guess what? These are their comments, and fuck off if you don’t like it.

The price you gotta pay for being yourself, in your own blog. Oh, the irony.

The same goes for emails. Emails between friends can be innoculously innocent, yet misinterpreted by the other party. A wrong word or sentence here and there may cause things to blow up. Words can be sugar-coated, and it could be argued that “hey, this is my opinion on this matter, so interprete it the way you want it, but ultimately I know I didn’t mean it that way.” Well opinions are like arseholes - everybody has one, and in this case, this particular arsehole of yours might have been the 12″ glass dildo that’s halfway up the other party’s arsehole.

I’m sorry my post sounds a little random. I’m just blogging a little to vent out some frustrations I have regarding this whole “this is my and this is how I wanted it to be, so please don’t be the E.Lit student you are and read between the lines and analyse what I wrote” issue here because of certain emails that I’ve received. To be very honest, I couldn’t be bothered to reply them, so I’ll probably take a day or two to cool down, think of a proper response, and then reply - less problems this way. This post is also random because I’m running on rather little sleep, a long full day’s of work, and I’m smoking another cigerette.

Since I’m done smoking, I shall end here on a random note - guys should never wear skinny jeans that’re too loose, tee-shirts (albeit ugly ones) that’re too fucking tiny for their already scrawny frames, ugly $10 metal studded belts, and ugly Vans shoes. Most importantly of all, never ever wear 3-for-$10 Giodarno Blues boxers when you’re wearing a tiny teeshirt, and loose skinny jeans, thereby exposing your boxers for the whole world to see.

I do not wish to see ugly Giodarno boxers.

Sorry, let me rephrase that.

I do not wish to see guys’ boxers. Show me some G-strings, thongs or nice panties (girls please). But not your fucking ugly boxers goddamned it.