blog/enigma
Friday, November 30, 2007
2:05 PM

[H] Ponning: A Trial
Warning: Contains blasphemy, parodies of persons and lawsuit procedures. To be taken with 3 barrels of sodium chloride.

Scene opens. It is a trial court. It is a jury trial with several disinterested-looking jurors. The judge (L.S.) is dozing off. The prosecution (E.A) gently prods the judge with a rattan cane.

Prosecution: Uh, Your Honor? Is the trial starting?

Judge: Zzzz... baby, come to me... zzz....

Prosecution: Your Honor!

Judge: Zzz... shut up, I want to sleep... *raises a lazy eye* Oh, right. The trial.
*Bangs his hammer hard, startling the rest of the people in the court*

Judge: The Prosecution may begin.

Prosecution: Your Honor, this is an accusatory case of deliberate truancy. May I summon the accused?

Judge: You may do so.

Jiasheng enters, sandwiched between two bulky men and chained by shackles and bolts. The audience immediately explodes into appreciative cheer. The Judge bangs the hammer.

Judge: Shut up, all of you! Or else I'll charge all of you with contempt of court-points his hammer menacingly at the audience- each and everyone of you!

Prosecution: That's right! And I'll wrap your heads with stockings!

Everyone stares at the Prosecution. The Prosecution shifts his feet uncomfortably.

Judge: Just start, you pinhead.

Prosecution: *composes himself* Uh, alright. On November 30th, the accused, Lin Jiasheng is accused of deliberate truancy. It was clearly announced that there was outdoor band practice on that day. Reports have stated that he was present before the practice, mooching around in the band room. However, eyewitnesses state that he had mysteriously disappeared during practice.

Judge: Is that true, Jiasheng?

Jiasheng: *suavely* No.

Judge: Okay. He is innocent. Case dismissed.

Prosecution: *hurriedly* But Your Honor! He has not sworn to tell the truth yet. He might be lying!

Jiasheng: Objection! The Prosecution is making an unverified claim.

Prosecution: May I remind the accused that only representative lawyers may defend their clients?

Jiasheng: My lawyer has acne this morning, and therefore had reported in sick. He told me to pass this M.C. to you, Your Honor. I am representing myself today.

Judge: *inspects M.C.* Alright. The accused will now swear.

Jiasheng: *confused* If you say so, Your Honor. F...

Judge: No, you twithead. Repeat after me. "I swear on my life that I will tell nothing but the truth, the whole truth."

Jiasheng: I swear on your underwear that I will tell nothing but the truth, the whole truth.

Judge: Accepted.

Prosecution: But-!

Judge: Shut up, or I'll charge you with contempt of court. Now continue.

Prosecution: *grudgingly* I will now bring in a witness. May I summon Digeon Scratchthere?

Judge: Yes you may, on the condition that he does not spread his groin lice all over the court.

Digeon Scratchthere enters, a humongous obese figure who looks uneasy. His hand lingered over his crotch, ready to scratch, then caught himself and stopped.

Judge: Swear that you will tell the truth.

Digeon: Pardon me, Your Honor. I am a Christian. I cannot speak blasphemy.

Judge: How will swearing to tell the truth account to blasphemy?

Digeon: *nervously* For example: *exclaims loudly* PARDON ME, LORD! I AM LYING! *mutters softly* there is no scientific proof of God's existence.

Judge: Oh.

Digeon: AHHH! I HAVE SINNED! NOOOO!

A great light appears above the court. A booming voice says, "YOU HAVE SINNED." A prodigious lightning bolt strikes Digeon. He is burned to a crisp. The court room reeks of burning fat.

Judge: Someone clean that mess up. Prosecution, summon a new witness. Janitor, please install lightning rods on the roof.

Prosecution *utterly shocked* Oh my goodness!

Judge: You may summon Ohmy Goodness.

Prosecution: No, no, I mean it's just so shocking. I need time to get over this. May I summon Avril Lavigne to sing me a song?

Judge: No. The accused may now defend himself.

Jiasheng: Yay. I was sick that day. I told Digeon and my section mates and Mrs. Chan and Mr. Siao and generally everyone who asked me.

Judge: And what sickness, may I know, caused your disability to be present for practice?

Jiasheng: It is AIDS, Your Honor.

Judge: My God! But we... last night... you didn't tell me! And you didn't wear a condom! Oh my god, oh my god! *goes pale in the face in horror, and promptly faints*

Everybody cheers in the audience. Jiasheng is acquitted. The Prosecution puts on his headphones. Someone clears up what's left of Digeon. The jury, more disinterested than ever, starts playing daidee. Curtain closes.

signed, jiasheng

Thursday, November 29, 2007
6:49 PM

[Q: Tagreplies]

Just a quick update before I head for piano.

amelia: HAHAHA I AM FROM VENUS.
>>Really? I always thought you looked a little alienish.

jovina: try kissing your zit to make it go away:D
>> Carbuncles of those sort doesn't seem to appeal much to kisses. Not that I tried.

Bo Dong: HI VISIT judgement92.blogspot.com NOW U KNOW U WANT 2
>> I advertised already. But it's really funny, so people, do go.

Yao Nian: Bravo! Magnifique! Fabuleur! One of the best posts! As always, you retain your flair, unlike me....
>> I'm sure it deserved less than 3 adjectives...

amelia: besides [H], [E], [Q], add another: [W] - wordy.
>> That is standard for every post, no point.

xinyuan: yo christopher hows life? haha yeah nice post.. i mean the bishan gay one. never heard of him though..
>> Hmmm who are you again? Can't even remember these girls... But thanks. Everyone adores me. xP

chloe: LOL. you said "d" letter missing and you still typed a d in your post?
>> The marvel of the soft keyboard. You should be glad I'm such a meticulous blogger.

Yao Nian: Full of it huh? You added the "sh" behind the it too!
>> Yep, a vulgar bit on my side.

Yao Nian: Where's Friday?
>> Taken by Robinson Crusoe.

signed, jiasheng

Wednesday, November 28, 2007
9:16 PM

[Q post/okay, maybe H post. I find it a little funny: The Ridiculousness of My Computer]

There are many ridiculous things in life which I've accepted and grown passive and apathetic about, like the starving children in Africa my parents are constantly talking about as they stuff their faces with roasted chicken, the fact that masochists exist, and of course, the invention (and conspiracy) of the V-neck shirt. But that's besides the point.

The point of today's post is so incongruous that I completely throw my hands up in surrender and let the waves of illogic wash over me and twist my very being into limbo. That's right. Today we shall talk about the paradox (or at else contradiction) of technology.

I had never been on good terms with technology and the works. When we did electric circuits in primary school, the teacher handed me a wire, a battery and a light bulb. Apparently we're supposed to construct a close-circuit with no gaps or breaks. Now, now. You may think this is simple enough, even without the big-fonted and concise instructions, but ahha, it is evidential that God designed Jiasheng with a different blueprint than the other normal humans and that particular design did not include harmonious interaction with anything metal, glass and rubber. In that particular fray, the oaf had won against the metallic invaders and I would have been happy to conclude the war if not for the dark-faced Science teacher.

In any case, recently my friendly ferrous counterparts had staged a rebellion and my computer, handphone and basically anything technological has broken down against me (YES even my hot-water heater, ahhhh!) so I've been forced to learn the wires and the tricks of the trade in order to plan a magnificento comeback. So far it's not successful, but at least I've gotten my mother (she's the handywoman in the house) to fix the computer which is a huge part of why you're seeing this post right now.

However, what she've not fixed are the speakers and thus I am in the deepest agony. I have this obsession that I must have music or at least sound to keep me working. Or else I'll go into hibernation permanently until I wake up hungry and start foraging for nuts again. Okay, so I don't have my music files because they've been (gasp!) deleted but I could go to Youtube, right? No. Because the speakers aren't working, darlings! And I'm dying!

They say you don't know what you have until you lose it. How true. I have a desire to sing out loud through my window to the HDB blocks around me:

My music lies over the ocean,
My music lies over the sea,
My music lies over the ocean,
Oh bring back my music to me!

(Chorus)
Music, oh music,
Bring back my music to me, to me!
Music, oh music,
Bring back my music to me!

I could sing this all day long if not for the middle-aged men staring out of the windows at the opposite blocks (which makes me consider installing curtains).

Anyway, the paradox of computers is that This computer is not true. they are supposed to benefit and aid mankind, and not bring such terrible torture. Can you imagine what is watching a youtube video without sound is like. Just search for some piano music, and watch the person play. Without the sound. Soon you'll go bonkers and starting smashing your head into the keyboard like sadhfjkasdfhslkjdfh sdpofjklsd;hfaskldjfh a;sldkfhsad;klfslfjsadlkfjsglkjbdf and so forth.

That's why we should all revolt against computers! Especially speakerless ones! Go adopt a back-to-basic naturalist lifestyle! Run naked in the woods! Sing wild campfire chants! Eat raw bugs! Name your children Monday Tuesday Wedneday Thursday Saturday Sunday!

Anything's better than watching a silent video.


signed, jiasheng

Monday, November 26, 2007
10:23 PM

[Q] post: Full Of $#It

Here I am, back home at 10 something, using my brother's extremely lousy laptop with the D key missing and a very laggy connection to fit.

Well my mum got 2 free tickets to the première of 'Full Of It', some movie so we went to the
Shaw at Balestier (it was so ulu that I didn't want to go to it in the first place, but I'm a cheap horny lesbian so uhhurm, there I was). Anyway, I strongly recommend anyone with an ounce of brains not to watch it because it's one of the most retarded films I've ever watched.

And since I'm not recommending, I can give spoilers (I think the film-makers will hire a gunman soon). It's about this short loser nerd guy whose lies come true and he got a red Porsche, the sexiest slut (which I didn't find that sexy)in school, his more sexy English teacher to crush hopelessly and arousingly on him, a *cough* male endowment of unbelievable size, and basically he becomes the sensation of his school. At the end things fall apart and it ends with a preachy note and tadah it ends.

It's full of (pardon the crass) shit. So much so that I had diarrhoea afterwards (it has nothing to do with the popcorn).

If my lies could come true, I would lie that:

1) I'm not a cheap horny lesbian so I didn't go watch that movie (which would, incidentally, form an paradox).
2) I'm rich.
3) I'm a smart winsome sexy perfect author who writes bestsellers then go travel around the world with various exotic partners.
4) I'm happy.

Good night =D

signed, jiasheng

Sunday, November 25, 2007
6:04 PM

Sometimes I think I'm really anti-band or something, although I'm supposed to be one of the enthu ones. A conversation I'm having right now:

zheng yu says:
is there band 2molo?
jiasheng; coruscation//claim to fame; says:
today is sunday wad
jiasheng; coruscation//claim to fame; says:
why is there band
zheng yu says:
i dunno. keith sau there is band on monday..
zheng yu says:
say*
jiasheng; coruscation//claim to fame; says:
AHHH! SHOOT HIM! SHOOT HIM!
zheng yu says:
no. wad i am curious about is whether there IS band or not
zheng yu says:
cuz i relli dont know
jiasheng; coruscation//claim to fame; says:
don't go. best policy
jiasheng; coruscation//claim to fame; says:
then say, "dunno!"
jiasheng; coruscation//claim to fame; says:
yay


I'm sure Edwin is going to kill me if he sees this. But I'm really a bit confused. Should I devote my life to something doesn't truly concern me? Of course not! Popular belief seems to believe in the contrary though.

I'm really the non-devoting type. I get sick of everything very easily. You can call me a quitter actually. Nothing seems to interest me much after say, 5 minutes. I remember my first cca at primary school was what, Chinese Calligraphy. After all the flurry to buy paintbrushes and ink and stuff, I happily painted crap for a few months. Then all my chicks started mutating into blots of black stuff and I never attended the class again.

But I fall hard and fast for the things I'm obsessed with, like the last time I caught the Maplebug I played for about a week straight, sleeping in the morning when my parents were around and rushing to the computer once they're gone to work/asleep.

(In the end I got sick of it after that week and never touched it again until now.)

Anyway, this probably means I'll never form lasting and meaningful relationships so it's a little saddening. But worry not. Maybe I'll become a playboy and someday 10 years later you'll see me on the streets, surrounded by flocks of scantily-dressed ladies.

"Hey, Jiasheng! How are you!" you cough a little at the intoxicating perfumes.

"Hey, yourself. Don't call me Jiasheng, I'm Christopher now. Who are you, by the way. I'm sorry, I don't even remember these girls after I've woken up," I beckon at the giggling lasses around me.

"Uh..."

"See you around! Bye!"

...

It's very possible. Though my current dream is to travel all around the world and hike everywhere and come back to Singapore fluent in 10 languages. After I've written my best-seller, of course.

Anyway, I'm too lazy to write anymore. But one last time to announce. I'll be standardizing my posts. They'll be labelled [H], [E], or [Q] respectively at the start of every post.

[H]: humorous posts which might not be that humorous if you're the one being laughed at but what the heck, just laugh.

[E]: emo post. You're granted the right to close the window, right then, if this appears.

[Q]: quotidian. Go find a dictionary. But it's just a post to describe my life.

I'll be going. Something to cheer you day up, this is funny:

From: http://www.larryniven.org/stories/Man_of_Steel_Woman_of_Kleenex.shtml

By Larry Niven*

Things of the form (*text*) are footnotes in the original text.

He's faster than a speeding bullet. He's more powerful than a locomotive. He's able to leap tall buildings at a single bound. Why can't he get a girl?

At the ripe old age of thirty-one (*Superman first appeared in Action Comics, June 1938*), Kal-El (alias Superman, alias Clark Kent) is still unmarried. Almost certainly he is still a virgin. This is a serious matter. The species itself is in danger!

An unwed Superman is a mobile Superman. Thus it has been alleged that those who chronicle the Man of Steel's adventures are responsible for his condition. But the cartoonists are not to blame.

Nor is Superman handicapped by psychological problems.

Granted that the poor oaf is not entirely sane. How could he be? He is an orphan, a refugee, and an alien. His homeland no longer exists in any form, save for gigatons upon gigatons of dangerous, prettily colored rocks.

As a child and young adult, Kal-El must have been hard put to find an adequate father-figure. What human could control his antisocial behavior? What human would dare try to punish him? His actual, highly social behavior during this period indicates an inhuman self-restraint.

What wonder if Superman drifted gradually into schizophrenia? Torn between his human and kryptonian identities, he chose to be both, keeping his split personalities rigidly separate. A psychotic desperation is evident in his defense of his "secret identity."

But Superman's sex problems are strictly physiological, and quite real.

The purpose of this article is to point out some medical drawbacks to being a kryptonian among human beings, and to suggest possible solutions. The kryptonian humanoid must not be allowed to go the way of the pterodactyl and the passenger pigeon.

I

What turns on a kryptonian?

Superman is an alien, an extraterrestrial. His humanoid frame is doubtless the result of parallel evolution, as the marsupials of Australia resemble their mammalian counterparts. A specific niche in the ecology calls for a certain shape, a certain size, certain capabilities, certain eating habits.

Be not deceived by appearances. Superman is no relative to homo sapiens.

What arouses Kal-El's mating urge? Did kryptonian women carry some subtle mating cue at appropriate times of the year? Whatever it is, Lois Lane probably didn't have it. We may speculate that she smells wrong, less like a kryptonian woman than like a terrestrial monkey. A mating between Superman and Lois Lane would feel like sodomy-and would be, of course, by church and common law.

II

Assume a mating between Superman and a human woman designated LL for convenience.

Either Superman has gone completely schizo and believes himself to be Clark Kent; or he knows what he's doing, but no longer gives a damn. Thirty-one years is a long time. For Superman it has been even longer. He has X-ray vision; he knows just what he's missing. (*One should not think of Superman as a Peeping Tom. A biological ability must be used. As a child Superman may never have known that things had surfaces, until he learned to suppress his X-ray vision. If millions of people tend shamelessly to wear clothing with no lead in the weave, that is hardly Superman's fault.*)

The problem is this. Electroencephalograms taken of men and women during sexual intercourse show that orgasm resembles "a kind of pleasurable epileptic attack." One loses control over one's muscles.

Superman has been known to leave his fingerprints in steel and in hardened concrete, accidentally. What would he to to the woman in his arms during what amounts to an epileptic fit?

III

Consider the driving urge between a man and a woman, the monomaniacal urge to achieve greater and greater penetration. Remember also that we are dealing with kryptonian muscles.

Superman would literally crush LL's body in his arms, while simultaneously ripping her open from crotch to sternum, gutting her like a trout.

IV

Lastly, he'd blow off the top of her head.

Ejaculation of semen is entirely involuntary in the human male, and in all other forms of terrestrial life. It would be unreasonable to assume otherwise for a kryptonian. But with kryptonian muscles behind it, Kal-El's semen would emerge with the muzzle velocity of a machine gun bullet. (*One can imagine that the Kent home in Smallville was riddled with holes during Superboy's puberty. And why did Lana Lang never notice that?*)

In view of the foregoing, normal sex is impossible between LL and Superman.

Artificial insemination may give us better results.

V

First we must collect the semen. The globules will emerge at transsonic speeds. Superman must first ejaculate, then fly frantically after the stuff to catch it in a test tube. We assume that he is on the Moon, both for privacy and to prevent the semen from exploding into vapor on hitting the air at such speeds.

He can catch the semen, of course, before it evaporates in vacuum. He's faster than a speeding bullet.

But can he keep it?

All known forms of kryptonian life have superpowers. The same must hold true of living kryptonian sperm. We may reasonably assume that kryptonian sperm are vulnerable only to starvation and to green kryptonite; that they can travel with equal ease through water, air, vacuum, glass, brick, boiling steel, solid steel, liquid helium, or the core of a star; and that they are capable of translight velocities.

What kind of a test tube will hold such beasties?

Kryptonian sperm and their unusual powers will give us further trouble. For the moment we will assume (because we must) that they tend to stay in the seminal fluid, which tends to stay in a simple glass tube. Thus Superman and LL can perform artificial insemination.

At least there will be another generation of kryptonians.

Or will there?

VI

A ripened but unfertilized egg leaves LL's ovary, begins its voyage down her Fallopian tube.

Some time later, tens of millions of sperm, released from a test tube, begin their own voyage up LL's Fallopian tube.

The magic moment approaches...

Can human breed with kryptonian? Do we even use the same genetic code? On the face of it, LL could more easily breed with an ear of corn than with Kal-El. But coincidence does happen. If the genes match...

One sperm arrives before the others. It penetrates the egg, forms a lump on it's surface, the cell wall now thickens to prevent other sperm From entering. Within the now-fertilized egg, changes take place...

And ten million kryptonian sperm arrive slightly late.

>Were they human sperm, they would be out of luck. But these tiny blind things are more powerful than a locomotive. A thickened cell wall won't stop them. They will *all* enter the egg, obliterating it entirely in an orgy of microscopic gang rape. So much for artificial insemination.

But LL's problems are just beginning.

VII

W>ithin her body there are still tens of millions of frustrated kryptonian sperm. The single egg is now too diffuse to be a target. The sperm scatter.

They scatter without regard to what is in their path. They leave curved channels, microscopically small. Presently all will have found their way to the open air.

That leaves LL with several million microscopic perforations all leading deep into her abdomen. Most of the channels will intersect one or more loops of intestine.

Peritonitis is inevitable. LL becomes desperately ill.

Meanwhile, tens of millions of sperm swarm in the air over Metropolis.

VIII

This is more serious than it looks.

Consider: these sperm are virtually indestructible. Within days or weeks they will die for lack of nourishment. Meanwhile they cannot be affected by heat, cold, vacuum, toxins, or anything short of green kryptonite. (*And other forms of kryptonite. For instance, there are chunks of red kryptonite that make giants of kryptonians. Imagine ten million earthworm size spermatozoa swarming over a Metropolis beach, diving to fertilize the beach balls... but I digress.*) There they are, minuscule but dangerous; for each has supernormal powers.

Metropolis is shaken by tiny sonic booms. Wormholes, charred by meteoric heat, sprout magically in all kinds of things: plate glass, masonry, antique ceramics, electric mixers, wood, household pets, and citizens. Some of the sperm will crack lightspeed. The Metropolis night comes alive with a network of narrow, eerie blue lines of Cherenkov radiation.

And women whom Superman has never met find themselves in a delicate condition.

Consider: LL won't get pregnant because there were too many of the blind mindless beasts. But whenever one sperm approaches an unfertilized human egg in its panic flight, it will attack.

How close is close enough? A few centimeters? Are sperm attracted by chemical cues? It seems likely. Metropolis had a population of millions; and kryptonian sperm could travel a long and crooked path, billions of miles, before it gives up and dies.

Several thousand blessed events seem not unlikely. (*If the pubescent Superboy plays with himself, we have the same problem over Smallville.*)

Several thousand lawsuits would follow. Not that Superman can't afford to pay. There's a trick where you squeeze a lump of coal into its allotropic diamond form...

IX

The above analysis gives us part of the answer. In our experiment in artificial insemination, we must use a single sperm. This presents no difficulty. Superman may use his microscopic vision and a pair of tiny tweezers to pluck a sperm from the swarm.

X

In its eagerness the single sperm may crash through LL's abdomen at transsonic speeds, wreaking havoc. Is there any way to slow it down?

There is. We can expose it to gold kryptonite.

Gold kryptonite, we remember, robs a kryptonian of all of his supernormal powers, permanently. Were we to expose Superman himself to gold kryptonite, we would solve all his sex problems, but he would be Clark Kent forever. We may regard this solution as somewhat drastic.

But we can expose the test tube of seminal fluid to gold kryptonite, then use standard techniques for artificial insemination.

By any of these methods we can get LL pregnant, without killing her. Are we out of the woods yet?

XI

Though exposed to gold kryptonite, the sperm still carries kryptonian genes. If these are recessive, then LL carries a developing human foetus. There will be no more Supermen; but at least we need not worry about the mother's health.

But if some or all of the kryptonian genes are dominant...

Can the infant use his X-ray vision before birth? After all, with such a power he can probably see through his own closed eyelids. That would leave LL sterile. If the kid starts using heat vision, things get even worse.

But when he starts to kick, it's all over. He will kick his way out into open air, killing himself and his mother.

XII

Is there a solution?

There are several. Each has drawbacks.

We can make LL wear a kryptonite (*For our purposes, all forms of kryptonite are available in unlimited quantities. It has been estimated, form the startling tonnage of kryptonite fallen to Earth since the explosion of Krypton, that the planet must have outweighed our entire solar system. Doubtless the "planet" Krypton was a cooling black dwarf star, one of a binary pair, the other member being a red giant.*) belt around her waist. But too little kryptonite may allow the child to damage her, while too much may damage or kill the child. Intermediate amounts may do both! And there is no safe way to experiment.

A better solution is to find a host-mother.

We have not yet considered the existence of a Supergirl. (*She can't mate with Superman because she's his first cousin. And only a cad would suggest differently.*) She could carry the child without harm. But Supergirl has a secret identity, and her secret identity is no more married than Supergirl herself. If she turned up pregnant, she would probably be thrown out of school.

A better solution may be to implant the growing foetus in Superman himself. There are places in a man's abdomen where a foetus could draw adequate nourishment, growing as a parasite, and where it would not cause undue harm to surrounding organs. Presumably Clark Kent can take a leave of absence more easily than Supergirl's schoolgirl alter ego.

When the time comes, the child would be removed by Caesarian section. It would have to be removed early, but there would be no problem with incubators as long as it was fed. I leave the problem of cutting through Superman's invulnerable skin as an exercise for the alert reader.

The mind boggles at the image of a pregnant Superman cruising the skies of Metropolis. Batman would refuse to be seen with him' strange new jokes would circulate the prisons...and the race of Krypton would be safe at last.

Reprinted from All the Myriad Ways © 1971 by Larry Niven.

signed, jiasheng

Saturday, November 24, 2007
7:42 PM


I think I've only seen 1 pervert my entire life.

Which is normal, I guess. To some extent.

WHAT THE HELL AM I SAYING IT IS ONE OF THE CREEPIEST AND MOST DISGUSTING THINGS I HAVE EVER ENCOUNTERED.

I met him back when I still took 3rd Language. Found out that he was so famous (can't blame him for that, paedophiles are such a great conversation topic - omg he stalked you too?!) that he had a nickname - Bishan Gay.

Anyway the first time I met him was at Kentucky Fried Chicken (who would have guessed). I was eating unsuspectingly until I noticed him staring at me. Then I thought, no, don't get all paranoid. So I continued eating.

But he kept staring. And staring. And STARING.

It was seriously spooking me out. Like he had these old glasses and he was adjusting them and stuff and he had this DISGUSTING smile. But really what disturbed me the most was that he was stirring his coffee. Like there was no tomorrow.

There is something creepy about a middle-aged man stirring his coffee. I don't know who invented it, don't know who popularised it. All I know that it is pretty darn wrong. Like he couldn't wait to dunk me in his coffee and swirl me round and round in a whirlpool and gulp me down while slurping noisily.

YUCKYUCKYUCKYUCKYUCKYUCKYUCKYUCKYUCK.

I shall now recount my most memorable meeting (note: alliteration) with the Bishan Gay (there were too many), in hope of getting some closure.

I was on my happy way to attend happy 3rd Language class. I boarded the bus happily, as usual. I looked out of the happy bus window happily. Lush greenery and crisp (I hope I'm using the right word) architecture greeted me happily. It was a happy day.

WHAT.

THE.

HELL.

The bus had just stopped at a bus stop (this sentence sounds stupid for some reason). Right outside my bus window was the BISHAN GAY. Like omg yuckfuckyuckfuckyuck. It was so ridiculous I couldn't believe it. What were the chances? And it was unbelieveably disgusting. Bishan Gay was standing right outside the window. As in his face was 1 CENTIMETRE AWAY from the glass. And only I could see it. Only I knew of the horrors that lurked outside the bus. It was like I had signed up for 10 seconds of personal torture.

It was so horrible. And yet I was stuck. Stuck in that chair. Stuck in that bloody timeframe. I immediately turned my head forward, so that I wouldn't have to look at him FACE-TO-FACE.
I tried to look calm and composed. I had to. I couldn't let him have the satisfaction of knowing he got to me. But inside, inside I was screaming.

SCREW YOU BUS DRIVER DRIVE AWAY! AHHHHHHH!!!!!! MOVE! MOVE! AHHHHHH WHY WON'T THIS BUS MOVE? IS HE STILL LOOKING AT ME?!!! AAAAAHHHHHHHH BITCH YOU PERVERT GET AWAY FROM ME!!!!! MOVE! MOVE!AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

And now I feel I must apologise for my eccentric behaviour. The childhood I've had is a truely tomented one.

****************************

However I am not someone who looks at things from a SINGLE perspective. After much contemplation and suicide attempts, I have came up with this conclusion.

Who am I to judge him? Did he ask to be born wth an unhealthy obsession with male adolescents? Should I reject him just because he is different from the norm? In fact, is he a pervert at all? From what I've heard he used to be a teacher at Raffles. I speculate that he might be an outstanding researcher, wanting to do his bit for society. Maybe this was all part of his social experiment (Tyra's not the only one you know.) In order to understand how modern society perceives paedophiles, he became one himself. So that he could personally experience what it was like to be a pervert. Thereby TRUELY getting into the psyche/conventions of modern society. (God this could be a HRP topic)

It doesn't matter if he is shunned or ostracised. Status is superficial. Because at the end of the day only he knows the truth behind everything. What society deems as acceptable or otherwise, what is inner beauty and real art and yadda yadda yadda. (And you thought he was your average paedophile. HA.)

And that's what counts.

Right?

RIGHT??!!!


-As quoted from Bo Dong's blog, http://judgement92.blogspot.com, 23/11/07

After reading this post I had my fair bit of musings.

Bishan Gay (does he has a name?) is one of the most coveted characters in this storybook of life I read often. He's this shadowy character that most students studying around Bukit Timah and Bishan would know about (i.e. HCI, NY, RI... this is a disturbing elitist trend). From impressions, he's a fat, average-looking (although many people would describe him as hideous) middle-aged (!!!) man who is rumored to be well, gay, and often ogles at boys. Teenage male adolescents.

In short, he's a sicko in general opinion.

My very first memory of him was at year 1 when I was reading a book on the bus and he was on the same bus as me (this might be less coincidental than you think. He's said to stalk handsome kids. Not like me, of course). Luckily, as much as I wish for the otherwise, I look rather average so I don't catch his attention that often. But anyway, at that time he kept staring at me so I looked up from my book at stare straight back at him.

"Boy, you shouldn't read books on the bus, it'll spoil your eyes," he seemed like he had an answer ready.

"Okay," I replied and put my book away. Just then, I thought he was just one of those kindly old men whom grandchildren I resemble. I like talking to old people actually. They're wise and compassionate and patient when they're not trying to kiss me (wait, I'll explain later.) I looked expectantly up at him, seeing if he's going to strike up a conversation, or telling me how I resemble his grandchildren. Of course, at hindsight, he might not even have any.

He just continued staring at me. I shrugged and looked away. I found it uncomfortable to sustain eye contact because it was as if he was admiring me as a painting or Ming Dynasty vase in a museum. And vases don't stare back.

But I didn't feel like being an exhibitionist. I wasn't confident of my looks (to me they were rather plain) and I certainly wasn't ready to model for that man to watch. Heck, I'm just on a bus trip to 3rd Lang. What's the deal with someone staring?

After that rather perturbing journey, I got right on track with life and forgotten cleanly about him. I did hear guffaws in conversations speaking of a pedophile, but it never interested me sufficiently for me to ask. I wasn't into pedophiles. They seemed to be something like fairies which existed outside my sphere of concern, sometimes brought into for jocular banter, but never reaching deep enough to remind me of their existence in reality after chat sessions. As far as I knew, they were not real.

Then one chance encounter with some seniors at the bus stop introduced me to the identity of the man who told me not to read a book on a bus.

"Oh my God! The Bishan Gay!"

"Who?"

"That freak! He's staring at us! $#!^!"

"Oh, him? I talked to him once."

And the drama ensues.

It's funny how people take long years regardless of their company to mature, while being an instant with thoughtless friends degenerates you to a simpering babbling idiot. Perhaps life needs less sagely beings. Nonetheless, I began to soak in the wonders of being cliquish, and the marvelous feeling of being included. Hey, I'm part of XX clique, get lost, loser. I became tactless. My sarcastic jabs got worse. I despised people who were loners, forgetting for a while that before I had my 'friends', I was a loner too. And some of those people I laughed at now had sat with me for lunch during my solitary days.

Part of me felt ashamed, but the draw of being in constant company, without being lonesome again, was deviously attractive. After all, they're just losers. But then I didn't know that nothing is everlasting.

When everything fell apart, and I found myself isolated again, it seemed like the very end. I couldn't go back to my pals. I couldn't face the people I've mocked, for I am what they were. Worst of all, I couldn't even face myself.

Slowly I realized. Even if you're in the light, you still cast a shadow. People are imperfect in the way that they could never obtain the flawless quality of transparent glass. They could only struggle in their little opaque bodies of secrets and turmoil.

So I grew out of it. And one day, when I was pondering these during a bus trip, I remembered the Bishan Gay. And he was exactly like the people I had mocked. He could be a father, or a grandfather. He could be a loving husband. He could be a friendly colleague. He could an inspiring teacher. He could be a agapic volunteer. And I would never know, because like many others, I judge him from what I hear from others who probably had never known him personally. I know nothing about him, yet I detest him because of hearsay, and not by assessment of his character.

It takes something to hate a person thoroughly. It takes a complete understanding of that person, and the knowledge that you couldn't in all your life learn to accept him/her. There's no doubt about it. You have to loathe that person.

I don't think I've reacted that way to any person. I don't know anyone that well. Humans are too secretive.

Someday or another, I would want to eat at a fast food restaurant, and see the Bishan Gay staring at me. Then I'll bring my fries and burger and sit across the table he's at, and ask for his name. Then ask him who he really is. What he does. Is he gay. Why so. Understand him as a person and not another prejudiced person.

He might not be innocent, but hey, that doesn't mean he's guilty. We all have to find out.

signed, jiasheng

Thursday, November 22, 2007
5:24 PM

Here's a quiz for the band peeps:
You're been having outdoor practice for 3 hours straight, breakless. You're tired, thirsty, irritable and sore all over. Suddenly, a fly decides to alight upon your face and molest your facial features by crawling all over your eyelashes, nostrils, cheeks, lips and earlobes. Your reaction to this is:

a) Scream blue murder and drop your instrument and start swatting your face, then running into the koi pond and dunk yourself amidst the fishes.
b) Remain cool and collected as a cucumber, and allowing the fly to progress into your respective orifices (aka, holes on your body, aka, mouth ear nose).
c) Think, "Wow, I'm attractive to flies. Eh, I'm so perfect that even flies love me. Everyone loves me!"
d) Start eying Edwin and Mr. Siao conspicuously, whispering, "Psssst! Help me swat that fly!"
e) Contort your facial muscles and making weird faces to create an uneven terrain for the fly and wish for a strong gust of wind.

Now, select your answer! Ready? Don't peek, scroll down!
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If you've chosen..
a: you're a hysterical neurotic.
b: you're a masochistic verminophile.
c: you're a egoistic narcissist.
d: you're gay.
e: you're smart, but will attract strange looks on the bus.

***

Of course, that was totally crap. Tell me your type! I'm b, by the way. What a cruel way to describe myself.

Band practice was about L. Siao's aesthetic obsession with 90 degrees. Bo Dong and I decided that we should give him a piece of paper with lots of grids on it on his birthday. His simulated response, as contributed by Bo Dong:
"Oh my god! So many 90 degrees! It's too much, too beautiful! It's so nice! So beautiful!"

Perhaps he has a squarish wife or something. Or husband. In Netherlands.

Oh yes I have to talk about my pimple! Yes I'm running out of stuff to say, so this particular spot on my face will become the hero of the post today. It's so disgusting! (N.B. Disgusting is one of L. Siao's favourite words) It's like a gigantic obtrusion to my flawless and perfect beauty.

I dunno why, but I'm really self-conscious about this particular zit that's on my left cheek. Firstly, it stings. Secondly, any amount of face washing with 3 different brands of facial foam does not help. And I thought I could just sleep it off, but NO! It stays there stubbornly. Here's the list of I'm going to do if it doesn't disappear soon (and I meant SOON):

1) Take a razor and slize off a bit of my face. A scar's always cooler than a pimple.
2) Put a plaster over it, which is so Liu Zhen.
3) Stay home and horrify only my family members.
4) Talk to it and make it go away. (I can recommend some people you'll love to attach yourself to...)

It's just so revolting! I'm too self-conscious. But it's so urgh!

Tag replies!

xinyuan: that was a darn long post haha glad that period of.. depression is over (: i heard eating a tub of ice cream helps though. and suri cruise is so pretty!!! go marry her next time and i will visit the both of you everyday heehee.

>> Hmmmmm. So I'll be either slim and depressed (the melancholic prince look), or fat and depressed/cheered up (freaking ugly). Guess which one I'll choose. And loser me didn't know Suri's a she. Oops. Nah. I can't pay for the dowry.

chloe: omg your post is SO DARN LONG/ and dude! you wann be sexy?!

>> Four words: Get used to it. I'm a chatty kid. And DUH. Who doesn't want to be sexy? Unless, of course, you're rich and famous and nice, which I am only two-thirds the equation. (Hah.)

signed, jiasheng

Wednesday, November 21, 2007
8:21 PM

Tag replies! (And I've decided to list out the tags, so you people don't have open another tab to refer to, like what I'm doing now.) By order of oldest to latest:

xinyuan: hellooo been awhile since i last tagged huh haha anyway stop spamming my tagboard with kNOw drugs tags!! i give you such quality tags and you come and tell me not to take drugs thanks man oh and i just realised that you post almost everyday woah. very interesting life eh.. and i didnt know you could draw!!! haha the saxaphone looks quite nice but i cant see the trumpet though. hm oook two long tags and one last short tag buhbye! (:

>>This tag (I meant, tags) must be carefully broken up into point-format like a summary text:
1) I'm not spamming! Just being kind and concerned! Stand up to vices, and admit your faults! Everyone has them! We'll still love you if you're drug-abuser! Just don't bother us when you run out of money.
2) Yes I post almost every day (not so often recently though) because my life's one whole drama. Or rather, I'm dramatic (but not as much as Bo Dong, some guy you will read about later) so when they write my biography, it would outsize the encyclopedia.
3) I'm not that much of a drawer than a crapper. Crappers of the world unite!
4) I just realized I mis-linked the trumpet. Ho, ho! Sorry.
5) Yes thank goodness you know your verbosity (aka: your long-windedness) but I replied more heh heh.

amelia: not gg t rebeccas hse tmr, you kids have fun okaaaaay! :D

>> Awww. I'm not even formally invited because I rejected the offer. Hah! The prince is busy.

jovina: U ALL PANGSEH ME AND REBECCA):

>> We didn't mean to intrude upon you and rebecca. It's just wrong to be a gooseberry like that. Oops, am I being suggestive? Oops.

rebecca: is this my first time tagging here? no idea. but aniwae i find it weird amelia tagged abt not coming to my house here. o.O

>> Since I have used this tagboard since swiftswirls (my old blog, full of teenager angsty nonsense), nope, you've tagged here before I think. Oh, and you call that weird? Amelia does things that make you wonder if she and us are of a same species (half-joking, sorry).

zy: ahhas this calls for good time management. remind me to lend you a book on it. and how to find a suitable shrink.

>> I will probably shred it and burn it for the upcoming band chalet BBQ. Shrinks? I think I'll drive them mad. It's very possible, you know. But thanks anyway.

QIFANN: or confide in a handsome, intellectual, sensible good friend. *er-hum*

>> handsome, intellectual, sensible good friend.
Reasons: handsome: self-explanatory xP
intellectual: hmmmmm.
sensible: mashed dog poo @ sakae, anyone?
good friend: I can't count xD

zy: when u wanna confide in someone better make it daytime. maybe you've got this weird witching hour thing when you get all hairy and start sucking blood xP no offence lol

>> Remember the time when I called you at what, 3am talking about that unrevealable debacle? And how I wish I'm hairy! It'll make me look sexier. Plus, everyone knows most vampires are alluring and sexy.

amelia: eh you alright? 0:

>> Refer to post below.

jovina: ehh jiasheng, you're scaring me. need me to come visit?: D

>> Refer to post below. But I don't mind a house visit with chocolate, lots and lots of it.

Yao Nian: Perhaps you could cast a spell? Brew a potion? Or you could use remedy plants! Try Chamomile, it helps.

>> Er, which one? Drugs? I shall research.

Wow I can't believe I took out so much space for tag replies! But I really have been MIAing for a while, so I guess that's that. But I really do have a lot of things to say! I'm in a chatty mood.

First of all, I'm ANNOUNCING: I'M ALRIGHT!

I'm also feeling a mix of emotions. Of course, a gigantic part involves me thinking that ohmygosh, I'm so blessed. Just one day after I post that emo and disturbing post and all my friends (okay, so maybe I have more friends than that) come offer their help! I'm the luckiest kid in the world! (okay, so maybe not as lucky as Suri Cruise. Pampered Prince. Hmph.) The second part of my paroxysms (aka strong emotions) involved a strong curiosity that says, what are all these people in the holidays that allow them that much time to visit blogs on a daily basis? I wonder.

But the main point is that I'm feeling perfectly okay now, possibly due to several reasons.

1) There was no Monday prac after all! Who was the stupid person who said there was? Huh? Huh?!

2) The outdoor band practice on Tuesday, which I did go for, was strangely exhilarating. Fine, it was also sucky because Edwin was wearing that silly smile every time he looked at L. Siao like a simpering lovesick puppy. Oh, I can just imagine the scandal. But then there will be a genuine love triangle between Quah, Edwin and Siao! Siao4! This really turns on my gossipy personality. (Alright, alright, I'm joking dudes. Don't spread this around, or else I'm so gonna get squashed, outdoorly tortured and even more outdoorly tortured by the 3 of them.)

Anyway, although I absolutely abhor outdoors, it also pumps my endorphin levels, so it's a little between being hungry because I skipped breakfast, being thirsty because the sun is blazing hot, being a bit high because of the endorphins, being a little creeped out by Siao's dyed golden hair (he looks more like a lion now, good for him. Promote Singapore.), being pissed off because Edwin kept pestering me that the lower bass is too soft (tell the woodwinds not to play so hard lah), and being YAYNESS FOR GAYNESS because the rumor about band practice ending at 4 is false. FALSE!

3) I'm cheered by Bo Dong, the Bass Trombonist in the band because Edwin announced after the prac about Dec practice schedules (which Lai had said would not exist), and Bo Dong, being the drama king he is, starting ranting. Forget me if the following recollection didn't bring out the entertaining flavor, because I was laughing like mad. His monologue:

"WHAT! I cannot accept this! This is just horrible! How can they deprive us of our holidays like THAT! (strong emphasis on that) *mimicking Lai in a soft and gentle voice* "Oh boys, we want to give you a break, so we decided that the December holidays shall be a break for you guys." *in his dramatic and loud ululation* BITCH! BITCH! BITCH! It's just so absolutely disgusting, so horrible, no! At first they said there was a break, but NO! NO BREAK! We're going on strike, I tell you! STRIKE! STRIKE! STRIKE! STRIKE! BITCH! BITCH! BITCH!"

Yep, that was the condensed version. It was seriously stitch-incurring.

Then wq and I went home first, and I went to Sun Plaza to meet him to buy the section gift for the exchange next next week. In the end, we ended up buying Ferrero Rocher (which is totally unoriginal but at least it's more high class than the clarinets' Japanese-labelled-chocolate).

Then we went to Yishun to play HOTD4, hoho. We got till the Lovers, 2nd stage. I got an abrasion on my middle finger (no, I don't point it. Usually.) because I shook the gun too hard. Ouch.

I didn't go home but went to the library to continue reading the book I wanted to borrow the day before, but the machine said I had outstanding fines (I knew, but I was in denial). So yes, the new love is The Boy Book, by e. lockhart (it's supposed to un-capped), sequel to The Boyfriend List. It's totally great to hear from the darling "Roo" Ruby Oliver talk about her angsty and messed-up life very much like my own. It's about this teenage girl who goes through all the high school crap, and it's unlike those other books about the same topic because it's very hilarious. I guess girls would love the book because it's all quite emotionally driven. Oh, bitchy boys too. I'm so in love with Roo, except that she's supposed to be 17 and unfortunately, fiction.

I didn't get to finish the book before 9, when the library closed, so I put it back to the shelf (I did not, does not and will not do naive things like hide books because A) The librarian will discover the book and put it back into the shelf anyway) and B) the library god sees everything and it's sure to be borrowed away if you did that. Also, C) because I usually can't remember where I hide them (I am not a loser, I am not a loser...)

I got home as usual at about midnight. The curse continues, but at least I'm cheerful. At this point, I must apologize to a person, sincerely.

SORRY REBECCA I MISSED OUR CALL APPOINTMENT! SORRY SORRY SORRY!

I was supposed to contact her at 6. Never mind, I shall redeem myself. Truth is, I've forgotten about the whole thing because I was caught up in this flurry of stuff. SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY. (I didn't C&P, ohkay.)

Anyway, today was slightly more eventful. Surprisingly, I woke up at 6.30, without any alarm clocks or whatever! It's amazing! My biological clock is so screwed up, I wouldn't be too shocked if I get andropause two years later. But I actually woke up early! News of the century! Though I got really really weird dreams which I will not discuss because they're very disturbing. (By the way, quoting Ernest, those were very dry dreams.)

I got up quickly and changed out of my Levis' (yeah I slept in them) and into a pair of shorts
and went to swim. It's quite random but yeah I did it, with all the old people (it seems to be a elderly thing to swim in the morning). They were all gawking at me when I tried to swim breaststroke because I can't swim and thus look like a duck with its butt sticking out every stroke. But see, I'm doing something constructive for the hols! I'm swimming! Soon I can fly.

Then I got some porridge for breakfast and waited for the Library to open for two hours, while reading The Cubicle Crucible. Then the lib opened at the fashionably late time of 10, which by then I have finished Act II, a pack of chips, and sucking my Chupa Chups Green Apple lollipop. I walked in suavely, with the cute sticky lolly stick sticking (pun intended, please notice it!) out of my mouth like a... lolly stick.

I finished The Boy Book and was starting on When Dad killed Mom, a thriller sort of book when suddenly I had weird vibes. It's my stomach growling. So I decided to go home, when suddenly, just suddenly, if my unspectacled eyesight is to be trusted, I saw Cecilia. Yes, that one. And to my own surprise, I didn't bolt like mad. I just pretended I didn't see her (she didn't see me, I hope) and walked past, with the complete restful look of someone who's going home for lunch.

(N.B. There's nothing to joke about her. I'm serious. Don't. Else.)

But I knew, if anything's going to spoil my day, that was it. I went home, koped some carrot cake (the coffee shop one, not the high class cake) from my sister, then went to PS with my mum to fix my phone. Then we went to Secret Recipe and had teatime there because she had a voucher. She got coffee with Raspberry Cheese while I had affograto with Chilled Blueberry Cheese (don't ask me why the cheese thing, no idea).

Then the call came. !%^!$!@%$!@#. Stupid, idiotic, imbecilic. I'm not saying what call though. Though my mood was substantially ruined by the NEXT call, which was suckier. Bah. I shall wave a hand of dismissal.

My mum was being rather nice. She's like life. Sometimes it's a complete bitch, which other times it's sunshine and rainbows. Anyway. We got some groceries at Carrefour.

Me: Why must we get stuff here? We have to lug it back to TP! Besides, it would ruin my princely image if I'm seen at Plaza Sing carrying plastic bags. I am not a plastic bag (holder).
She: TP is stupidly small and you can get nothing there. Last time I went to AMKHub...
Me: Oh god, AMKHUB!
She: *snaps* What?
Me: Nothing.
She: Anyway, you, the prince, is still raised on unprincely stuff.
Me: *points to the Merci chocolates* Like these?
She: *flatly* No.
Me: Anyway, what are we getting?
She: I'm looking for warm baguette...
Me: *looks at her incredulously* Warm? This is a supermarket, not a bakery.
She: *sees the baguette* Look! Baguette! Warm! See?
Me: WOW WOW WOW (sarcastically, of course)
She: I wonder if those grapes are expensive. Hmm, 69 cents/ 100gm.
Me: Duh. It's sure going to be more like 7 bucks. *Weighs grapes with hands* Yep, definitely more than a kilogram.
She: Are you sure? Then I'm not going to buy them if they're so expensive.
Me: You are so cheap.
-continues debate about cheapness and raising me on cheap food. fast forward to counter-
Me: See? 7 plus bucks.
She: *buys it anyway*
Me: Congratulations, you've been elevated to 'not-so-cheap'.
She: *rolls her eyes*

Yeah then on the bus back we discussed the male body and its relative parts (we sound like daughter-and-mother, oh no) with the inclusion of the Tarzan joke, which I shall copy and paste from zy's conver, since I told him. Rated M18!

one day, jane met tarzan for the first time
and she was immediately stunned by the amazing wildman in the forest
in fact, she was smitten. She asked him, "tarzan, what do you do when you need sex?"
"sex?" tarzan quizzed.
jane explained it graphically, all the time eyeing tarzan seductively
across his rippling muscles and strong frame
tarzan was enlightened
"oh, I do it with a hole in the tree"
jane was shocked. she lifted her skirt and said
"no, you do it down here"
so tarzan stripped.
the loincloth dropped to the floor
and he approached jane, (who was hastily in position already), with soft but sure steps
they were almost touching
and tarzan lifted his legs, and started to stomp, kick and abuse jane in that area with extreme force
jane gasped in pain and shock, writhing on the floor
"why did you do that?!" she shrieked.
"just checking for bees." tarzan gave a shrug.

Ouch. Pardon the crass. This is one long post. I think I should have warned at the start. But like some bloggers, like nicholas who says 'end here' and rebecca who thanks people for their time, I shall also end my post with a signature.

I thank you for your time and ending here. xP

signed, jiasheng

Tuesday, November 20, 2007
12:25 AM

Lately I find myself doing ridiculous things to hide from everyone besides from my immediate family, the people I randomly meet on my biking trips and the uncles and aunties who man their all-purpose shops downstairs at my flat.

Like, I have developed an aversion to coming home before midnight, so I'm actually a twisted version of Cinderella, running out of my house when I wake up and coming home after 12am. Just that darling Cinderella does it so she could meet her prince but is forced to run back home when the clock strikes twelve, while I'm forced to stay out until the witching hour, then I drag my tired body back home.

Why? I don't know. What I do know is that this condition might have become clinical, for I wake up with a sort of frightened awakening like some rat snoozing peacefully before being rudely interrupted by a cat's meowing. Then I stare fearfully at the phone, that silent bomb ticking away, ready to ring and bring bad news. Then I quickly bolt out of bed and have a hurried shower, and grab my bike keys and whoosh, out of the house I go.

Where to? Sometimes I just wander aimlessly around my neighborhood, cycling around Toa Payoh. Otherwise I find something to do, like go for a dip at the complex, or go on a reading spree. Anything but home. As usual, my phone's off, with its batteries not charged for at least a week. My wallets rather empty - Dad hasn't been giving me allowance recently, I wonder why. Maybe because I don't see him often now. He goes to work just about midnight. So I just walk about, not quite having a destination, nor a plan, other than the one that tells me not to stay at home.

It scares me. When I do go home, I don't even dare to blogsurf. Something's out there. Lurking. I don't know what. And common sense tells me that this isn't logical, and I should probably get professional help. Find a shrink maybe. But there's an intense feeling that keeps snaking in my thoughts and saying, "Get out of the house. Now." and I feel like I have no choice but to obey.

I didn't even turn up for practice. I knew that there was an extra practice on Monday, because Edwin is back and somehow wants to see our progress. But I had stayed up too late, until around 6 in the morning, before I collapsed out of sheer fatigue. When I woke up it was 2. Rashly, I swiftly took 5 minutes in the shower before bailing out to the library with my jacket and some coins I fished from some corner. I stayed at the library for around six hours, until it closed. I didn't even know whether the practice started at 8 or 1. But school seems to be dangerous too. I just didn't want to go.

I know it sounds incredible, and way out of character, but for once in the 13 years and 2 months existence of my life, I've reached a climax of escapism. Then again, maybe not out of character at all. I can't seem to remember a time of my life when I wasn't running away from anything. People, situations - I don't know. My life is currently one big question mark. And I still don't know about tomorrow.

signed, jiasheng

Saturday, November 17, 2007
5:43 PM

If you've missed me over the past few days and noticed my invisibility, here's where I was sinfully at.


'coruscation', that me =] not the butch beside me.


And here's one of my critical shots. Not bad eh, for 3 days of hard training. Wow, I've leveled up about 6 times per day.

Fine, fine, I'm supposed to be studying.

signed, jiasheng

Thursday, November 15, 2007
2:45 AM

The collective words of all of existence could not describe:

1) The stupidity of my parents
2) The stupidity of my parents
3) The stupidity of my parents

signed, jiasheng

Wednesday, November 14, 2007
2:02 PM

I just found out something extremely disturbing about me. It happened when I woke up this morning and and discovered myself walking instinctively to the computer to check on the Rakion download.

Rakion download?!

What the heck? Jiasheng, I'm ashamed of you! How can you play such nonsensical games when you're supposed to be studying?!

But I didn't mean to! Those nasty juniors goaded me upon it! I was tempted! Exploited! Used!

You know those are just excuses. Now then, just close that download window and everything will be all right. The Crucible will cheer you up. C'mon.

NOOOOO!

Alright, this has gone too far. Switch it off, or else.

Or else what? Rakion is the most important thing right now!

I'll curse the programme to malfunction.

NOOOO!

signed, jiasheng

12:03 AM

There are several things that shouldn't appear on a male teenager's blog.

One, his declarations of love. Or any sort of admittance that he has a target crush in mind that he would like nothing but kiss and hug passionately. That sort of content on blogs is extremely ill-advised against because firstly, everyone knows about that the loves of adolescents are very like fireworks - first the sparks, then the explosive and brilliant flashes against the dark and brooding night faces of parents, then the oohs and ahhs from the audience, then after 3 seconds, it disappears and everyone leaves Esplanade Park. The aftermath is just like the choking sulfurous fumes - no one wants to read about your raving heart-broken rants. Plus, it really unmanly to wail, "Oh baby, please come back to me!" publicly, if privately isn't emasculating enough already.

Two, his mother. Which is what I am going to blog about.

Well, you can't blame me. Usually people blog about their boring little lives as they describe how they had an exciting day because they went to watch The Bee Movie, which is just about the most ridiculous thing I think the movie producers like to put onscreen. I mean, talking bees? But I always say that too soon, because I just saw the trailer for Bratz. Which is not that absurd (in fact I'm quite tempted to watch it, seeing its bitchy content) but I always thought those Barbie doll-thingies should stay in their pretty packages.

Oh, back to the episode about my mother. She was a complete bitch this morning. I know, I know, it's really unfilial of me to say that but hey, I'm in a flat where there are lightning rods installed and so yes, hopefully I wouldn't get struck by lightning. But she really was being a full blown-out PMS-ed woman, which is what I like to think of her as, instead of the poor lady who stretched her womb to accommodate at least one ungrateful child. It puts off the guilt.

It started at around 6:10 in the morning, when I was duly woken up by her with her opening the door and screaming blue murder, then slamming the door shut. I was mildly awaken by this ruckus (only mildly because I stayed up all night to read Wikipedia on Roman Catholic Child Abuse Cases, and thus was still halfway in sleepyland) and was speculating what exactly was outside the door. A flasher, perhaps? Somehow, the idea of someone in an anorak opening up to my mother is rather amusing if not for the fact that my eyes were hurting to the glaring light (they do that when I have had less than 3 hours of sleep). I dismissed the incident with the sort of careless wave the concubines in ancient china do when they want their servants to disappear.

"Stupid cat," she spat, "Jiayi! It's your stupid cat again!"

Perhaps some explanation would be appreciated here. Jiayi is my 16-year old brother who is -let's describe him gently- rather bestial. Nah, he's just into animals, and that love has somehow skipped a sibling and ended with my little sister. Both of them has a haunt which is namely the 5th storey corridor end where a mother cat and her kittens reside. I think to say 'reside' might be a too human description, for the last time I went there, it was nothing but a little 2 by 2 metre area where the cats eat, poop (it was horrible, really) and sleep. The two of them would just stay there and feed the felines and stroke them and play with them. I'm not very surprised if my sister turns out to be Catwoman. Or at the least Catgirl.

The turn of events should be predictable as with any tragic love story where one party gets too attached and starts to be obsessed. That's what happened to the cat. The mother cat somehow misses (again, another misnomer. More like desperate for food and someone to pick its fleas) one of my siblings (but my mother's biased, so my brother got all the blame) and therefore has snuggled itself comfortable and assertively at the bottom of the shoe rack outside the common corridor (in the process kicking out two pairs of sandals). It stared at me when I stared at it from the window. Then I made a face at it and closed the window grilles.

I promptly fell asleep again on the sofa until my mother's witch-like cries woke me up from a weird dream about a gay cat who kept chewing my slippers.

"You keep falling asleep! You're supposed to be awake at 6! Look at the time now!"

I obeyed obediently. It was 11 plus.

"I forgot to tell you. Band prac is in the afternoon."

She gave me a murderous look before going back to the kitchen to cook.

This story isn't so much about bitchy mothers, then. I had an uneventful day at band and an interesting wrestling match with someone. No prizes for guessing who. I hope this was an enjoyable read (I enjoyed writing it).

signed, jiasheng

Tuesday, November 13, 2007
1:06 AM

I think it's better for me to blog now since I've calmed down from my angst at the class allocation next year. I've learned that it's actually better since I wouldn't get all distracted so thus perhaps I'll have an easier time.

Finished Zhenyang's pics. I think the saxaphone looks the best while the trumpet sucks, seriously. The proportion's all wrong. I was referencing from my pc, so don't blame me. Comments are aplenty.

Saxaphone
Snare Drum
Trumpet

-qfnn: 'sax for a person with super big lips xD'
-jo: 'sax looks gay'

I haven't got the foggiest idea why they're all talking about the sax. Teenagers these days...

Nothing much happened. Going for band tomorrow, and there you go, my hectic week starts.

signed, jiasheng

Sunday, November 11, 2007
8:29 PM

Here I am, sitting in front of my computer returning from an extremely unsatisfying day. And I am utterly shocked at the fact that no one is talking to me on MSN because these few days once I log in I'm bombarded by conversation windows. No, it's not that I'm popular or infamous (though I'm pretty sure I'm the latter), but just a lot of facils are still suffering from after-camp high and I become one of their nostalgia fixes.

I just returned from going to PS Starbucks having a Mocha Frap with chocolate chips and whipped cream, and a potato salad. The coffee itself wasn't bad, but I still prefer the caramel whipped cream. Maybe I should have a special Mocha Frap with Caramel Whipped Cream Top. Hmmm. The salad was cold potato with sour cream and some lettuce and a cherry tomato. It wasn't bad, but something tells me I've been having too many salads for my own good.

I actually wanted to finish Zhenyang's favor, and even get started on the project I've been thinking about. But then procrastination set in. It's really easy for it to do so when you're sipping the iced coffee, watching green-eyed foreigners do the same and people walking all about the Front Plaza.

After that I went to Zone X (again?) and was utterly disappointed that the Douby Gaut (don't tell me how to spell it, I don't bother.) branch does not have House of the Dead 4. So I ended playing a very bad game of Time Crisis 3 and ended up killing my comrade.

Proceeding which I went to AMKHub (again.) to play HOTD4 until I died, where I was approaching the second boss. (And I revived myself for 3 times). Looks like my plan to go pro might take a while.

Dinner was at MOS, the one which qfnn and I went to apply for part-time. I'm pretty sure the grouchy old lady recognize me when I ordered the Unagi Rice Burger because she gave a this I know you but I just pretend that I don't look. I shot back a Just get the burger, hag look. Meanwhile, I amused myself by staring at MOS's new advertisement.

MOS CHRISTMAS PROMOTION 2007
MOS HANDPHONE STRAP COLLECTIBLES!
Get your hands on all 5 of these adorable food-inspired characters handphone straps before they all walk out the door!

I raised an eyebrow. Who would buy these?

The eyebrow was raised higher when I heard the next person in line say, "Can I have the MOS Chicken handphone strap?"

So after the meal, I got home, very shocked at the realization that I've just spent 30 bucks on virtually nothing I really wanted except for the Starbucks part, which is now disagreeing with my stomach now (my caffeine allergy chooses its time to appear). Great. I'll need to practice my I'm-so-pitiful expression when my father asks me if I need money.

Now I'm just stoning, chewing some nasty-tasting mints and listening to music on my headphones that cuts me off from the rest of the audio world. The music is coming from someone's blog whom I don't really know.

I know I need to start cracking on the drawings and settle the Christmas Party thing asap, but I just can't find the motivation to do it. Rebecca's still out and I'm probably going to leave till 11pm then start drawing.

And still no one is talking to me on MSN. Desperate's not a word to describe me, but I certainly hope for some cheerful conversation because this day is going to end stale.

Maybe I should talk about something interesting, like how I really can't stand sickly sweet declarations of love on blogs, and how I get bouts of goose pimples when I read about it during my random blogsurfing trips. Serious. But I don't want to get started on some issues that I know best to avoid, or else all the lovers in the world would start flaming me and poof, there goes my unspammed tagboard. Not that it isn't spammed already. Fine. Tag replies.

Chloe: No, Qiqi doesn't have a blog, and yes, thanks for using my blog as an announcing media. Why don't you tell me what to say and I'll post it up for you?(Sorry. I'm feeling rather bitchy today.)

Qiqi: The only thing Amelia is attracting is strange stares on the MRT, seeing how she spammed batman cologne on me there.

Amelia: Call me evil man.

Qifann: That is a seriously bad thing to post.

Jovina: Double wedding? J&J, A&Q?

I'm not replying to the rest of Amelia's random spamming.

I'm getting another writing inspiration about a model who is a master hypnotist. Go figure. And I carried my chemistry textbook around today for nothing because my mother is under the delusion that her son is so capable that he can start studying during the holidays while some !$%#$& tyrannic organization is robbing my free time away.

I'm a complaining, bitchy and irritated himbo today. Man. But this post is funnier. I hope.

signed, jiasheng

Saturday, November 10, 2007
9:54 PM

I think I've been talking to Amelia for too long. I keep realizing things. (Out of which, I realize this blog mentions her a lot. But worry not, Qifann, I mean no harm.)

Anyway, the highlight of my life last night was talking to some junior and stoning at some certain emo place from 2am-3am, then proceeding to sleep at a random HDB void deck until it rained (lucky i brought my jacket) so I went to the nearest 7-11 (Alex's block) and ate Tom Yum Instant Noodles, mashed potatoes and torquitas (or however you spell it) until 5 in the morning, then I went home.

Saw a couple of interesting news on the papers, like how Zong Xian is on Straits Times pg 13 and someone didn't give a damn when I smsed the good news. The Thai King has also brought about a new pink craze because he wore pink as he got out of hospital. The founder of the Good Samaritans died.

Interesting, eh? See, you gain invaluable knowledge when you come onto this blog.

I've been rather busy lately, with all the stuff that I'm obliged to complete. My next week is packed already. But hopefully that will end. Facils, keep 19th Dec free. I'm planning something. Details will be released later, so don't bug me first!

signed, jiasheng

12:17 AM

You want me to post a detailed post on the baking incident? But my memory's not that good. Too bad. Lately I feel rather languid and my mind practically has no energy to recall things to blog about. That's probably why I'm just feeding you short and meaningless posts.

Well I went to buy my books today, threw out a lot of papers (including all my model essays and unpleasant maths tests), got my new specs, contemplated on playing more HOTD4, saw SLIM, and that's about it. It's not that my life is boring, but I just don't have the interest to write about it.

And yes my life isn't boring. I know what boring is. Boring is when you log in to MSN and you see someone's hamster has given birth and you talk to him and ask him how the pups are doing.

Can someone just lend me some energy? I feel really lethargic. And my studying is supposedly starting.

Alright, I promise, the next post would be better. I'm just tired.

signed, jiasheng

Thursday, November 08, 2007
11:22 PM

Flour. Sugar. Cocoa powder. Eggs. Milk. Chocolate chips. 6 teenagers.

Add them up. What do you get?

I feel really stressed writing this post because as the host, I'm supposed to give a oh-so-grand-and-detailed description but my mind just went blank and I can only offer one word: fun.

You're really lousy, Jiasheng.

But anyway a few interesting things happened, like the formation of a new couple we can tease. I'm so glad that I invited the two of them. They shall thank me when they hold their wedding. I might be the best man.

Mr. Q and Ms. A. Awwww.

The result was an overly eggy cake (because some people just keep spamming eggs. hmmm) but I think we should do this again. Seriously. It's fun. And yeah. I enjoyed the day a lot.

Man this post is pathetic. I shall end it off saying: I love the song Innocence! (Avril Lavigne)

signed, jiasheng

Wednesday, November 07, 2007
8:30 PM

What an uneventful day.

I eat my words. Things happened after I posted that. I went to play arcade with my brother. I don't know why, but I seem to have an affinity with AMKhub. I've visited there 3 times in 3 days! It's insane. But anyway, yeah, I played house of the dead with my brother and we were really lousy. Which meant money down the drain. It was fun though.

Oh, we spent like 30 dollars, just reviving ourselves after continuous play, on HOTD4. We were just mindlessly tapping the TaPz card until it said 'Please top up'. By that time we were fighting the boss The Star. The fifth stage.

I seriously think we're wasting a lot of money. But it was also a lot of excitement. Oh well. Call it brotherly bonding time. Maybe I should claim it from my dad or something.

Then we stuffed ourselves with chicken and tempura rice while I bought cocoa powder, chocolate chips and vanilla essence (which I am going to claim from my mum, I don't care) so we can make almost anything tomorrow.

I think I'm going to post on the facils' blog soon.

signed, jiasheng

3:33 PM

S! A! L! T! C.E.N, T.R.E, SALT, CENTRE, LET'S GO!

And that was the chant a lot of band members mentally chorused during outdoors when Lionel appeared with the keys.

Apparently the mantra worked, because we got indoors outdoors again! I think I really blessed because so far every outdoor practice since the hols, I've been getting the slack outdoor practices (while I ponned the full outdoor ones. Evil laugh.)

A bunch of leaders came back to coach us in outdoors though. Must have been how pathetic we were. Nicholas, Jiehan and Liuzhen (though he probably was discussing metrosexual issues with Lawrence Siao) monitered us. It was also then when I realized Nicholas has really light brown hair (which upon interrogation, he said he didn't dye it, but it lightened in the sun). Qifann sort of scoffed when I told him and suggested we use the same excuse when we dye our hair.

There's a score to memorize! Under the Double Eagle. Man I hate memorizing scores.

I lunched with Qifann at KFC at Far East during the break. I wanted to go to somewhere near actually, but Qifann just insisted tyrannically so we ended up having to run over the bridge because 171 was at the stop.

It rained in the bus. Namely, the air-con dripped on me, which made me and my wallet wet (Now you know what he meant in the blog. I did not do anything scandalous on the bus. It was too squeezy anyway).

Indoors was rather slack. Elliot sported a zombie look with an intriguing plaster thing on his forehead. Leng was being rather subdued and the scariest threat he could come up with was to get the SL to do a lion dance. Maybe he's distracted by his appointment later at Beijing 101.

I accompanied Qifann to AMKhub and was absolutely amazed at the hypermart there. It's super big and trust me, anything you want, you can get it. I had a fun time staring at canned food and batteries. And I bought 16 sushi! with 3 dollars. That was part I of my dinner which included my choking over the wasabi which I daringly spammed.

Part II was rather anticlimatic at home with fried rice and chatting with nice juniors and facils who again remind me of gatherings. Did a couple of stupid quizzes, with insipid results, felt tired and fell asleep.

Then I woke up to this unaccomplished day. Slept till noon. Did nothing except read Fire-us, some morbid novel about a plague wiping out all of adultkind and kids are all dead due to injury and sickness and stuff. Still reading. And agent X didn't appear after all. And dad told me to buy my books but by the time I got ready, the bookshop is closed. So yeah. A wasted day. Qifann should have taken me out. Hmph.

So I shall find something to do now. Maybe look up recipes. Plan tomorrow's baking session. Organize some christmas party for the facils. Call up section mates. Salvage and arrange uniform files.

What an uneventful day.

signed, jiasheng

Monday, November 05, 2007
9:12 PM

Question of the Day: "Why me?!"

Well, it's because today at the band photoshoot, I was singled out by the photographer! He surveyed the group (Which includes Nicholas, Tze Han, Bo Dong and Jason) and looked at us with friendly but piercing eyes.

"What's your name?" He pointed to me.

"Huh? What? Oh. Jiasheng." I fumbled. It wasn't like he was going to remember anyway. Most people I meet don't. Maybe I should get a nice name like Oprah. Then no one would forget.

I suddenly remembered about the conversation the exco was having just now, about how it's all a pornographic conspiracy to take nude photos of us youthful virile teens. (Actually it was my topic. Bo Dong was talking about the tv shows he was watching during the hols and the rest were generally stoning.)

Then he got me in all sort of strange poses like pretending to play and watching Tan Kah Kee and turning back and laughing. As usual I'm very reserved about my smiles and all, being the elegant and graceful person I am, until the photographer got the rest of the exco (who were busy snickering at me doing weird actions) to make me laugh. Jason started making funny faces and Bo Dong stopped talking about what he was watching and try rather feebly to tickle my funny bones. It was futile, until..

I realized something. I'm trying to smile at Tan Kah Kee's butt! (the statue in front of the school Clock Tower) That cracked me up enough to earn me some "Very good!"s from the photographer.

In the end I was just so malufied and I was so, so glad it was over. After that I went to AMKhub with Liuzhen and Jason (who were wearing matching shirts. Hmmm.) to spend a wasted late afternoon (but very accomplished, according to Liuzhen) registering for Liuzhen's nEbo card.

Actually, I also feel rather accomplished because I didn't spend a lot. Or else I'll be begging for money again. I'll need those to buy baking ingredients.

Oh, news. I'm getting new specs because I lost my old ones. My mum is getting surprisingly generous. I'm praying real real hard for frameless.

That's about it for today I guess. I wanted to include an essay on how I've grown to accept teenage relationships, but maybe that shall wait. Oh, about the camp detailed update? It's kind of tedious, so I shall not do it. And it brings back v-neck memories. No thanks. Sorry Amelia.

signed, jiasheng

Sunday, November 04, 2007
6:55 PM

So, this is what happens when your idea of playing for one week then mugging includes 3 days of camp. You get very high, then very tired, then the realization that your week of fun is over.

hiadsfgklsdgioag. (I've stopped swearing for a while in case any camper visits here. But truthfully thinking it hardly matters.)

Some of the good things that happened today includes:
1) Zhenyang's blog is not under construction anymore. But the bad news is that his tracklist changed so I don't get to listen to those nice songs he has on the blog.
2) I slacked off the whole day (huh? Is that good?)
3) O-levels are ending! My brother says the last exam is on next Tuesday. Again, I doubt it matters because my brother is either sleeping at home, watching manga on the pc or mooching at the library, doing whoeverknowswhat. It might be studying, but I'll bet my v-neck shirt that it isn't.
4) I found some facils' blogs. Will relink/link soon.

Not so good things:
1) AMELIA SAID JO TOLD ME TO TAKE AMELIA'S FILE BUT I FORGOT. BOOHOO. (If you're wondering about the caps, it's what she uses when she talks on msn.)
2) My fun holidays is gone! I demand a refund for the week. C'mon, I've been a good little innocent handsome albeit a bit gay boy! You can't discredit me just like that.
3) I'm craving emo music!
4) Actually, just music!

And y'know what I'm thinking now? I remember in P4 I wrote in my journal writing that I craved for going out, but Ms Heng, my teacher then, wrote at the side that 'You crave for food, not going out.'

Which reminds me of a joke I read in RD:
I used to teach at a elementary school long ago, and recently I met one of my old students. She came up to me and exclaimed excitedly, "You teached me English!"

Now you might laugh.

Well the truth is I'm really desiring some fun, real real fun before my hols end just like that. I deserve it! Oh fine, I don't, but hey, but nice. Soon I'm buying my books and studying will start! Nooooo!

Oh how drama.

signed, jiasheng

Saturday, November 03, 2007
8:41 PM

Too many words for me to describe the camp, so I shall not! But a couple of some things to mention:

1) I shall condemn the v-neck long sleeve I.P. zone shirt because firstly it's dirty and bleached and secondly I'm known as a gay for all the campers as well as the teacher because of it. hohoho. Even Uncle Zuir mentioned it to Mrs Chen! Gosh. Off you go, my formerly-nice shirt.

2) You know how hard it is sometimes to do something you have thought for a long long time, but just don't have the time to do because you're busily chasing campers out of the toilets, organizing facils, discussing with teachers on what to do, and stuff? And how easy it is to attribute it to lack of time when it's simply a lack of courage?

3) Poor, poor Qiqi who had to rush off to school after the camp! I really miss her because she left me with all the logistics which I absolutely loathe.

4) It's amazing how leadership sprouts in the what was originally thought to be the most unfertile of people. I've learnt much.

5) Some facils, watch out! The core committee might change its face drastically next year. Be prepped.

6) I would place this camp to be in 2nd place, after the very first camp I faciled and before the second one with the logs-and-light campfire.

7) And campfires. How I love campfires.

8) I hope I don't get too emo missing the camp. I will, definitely. But hopefully not too much.

9) A great big thanks to the teachers and core committee. You guys make this camp possible.

10) And thanks especially for doing all the logi works when I'm not around! I hate logistics!

11) Actually this year I feel rather useless because I practically did nothing. Seriously, I knew as much as the facils who came for the briefing this year because I was just so busy with those stuff I care about less than the camp. But I think it's alright, because at least the guilt fuels me to work more. Yeah.

12) Thanks:
i.Mrs. Chen for making it so, so much easier for me.
ii.Mrs. Reyes for the logistics!
iii.Mr. Lee for continually teaching me that cheerleading isn't that easy, and all the things I forget.
iv.Qiqi for clapping the loser clap for me xD
v. Amelia for being cranky and efficient. It's amazing.
vi. Jovina for doing her best at being best.
vii. all the facils, without the honourable mentions because no space, for everything. Everything.
viii. and the rest I might have missed out.
ix. thanks for making my life so much brighter.

I know this is little compared to the emo stuff I usually write after camps and things, but I think it's actually an improvement. This might be the last camp I facilitate, but for what it's worth and how I feel, I think knowing to let go is the wisest choice of all.

The dream isn't over yet
Though I often say I can't forget
I still relive that day
You've been there with me all the way

signed, jiasheng

Thursday, November 01, 2007
9:54 AM

Yesterday was funfunfun! And today shall be better! (Well, the next two days also!)

methinks there are too many exclamation marks.

signed, jiasheng

jiasheng

19th Sept
hci
band/euphonium
doodler
blogger




hit me again

aspirations

it takes a while for this section to load x) a long while.

discuss/disgust me
blah, the cbox gives the game away.


what i click

facils
Sheila
Xinni
Serene
Jolyn
Weiqi
Chloe
Shermaine
Nicholas
Xinyuan
Jovina
Rebecca
hci
Edwin
BuPedofan
Brandon
Chin Seng
Weiqi
Zong Xian
Lionel
Zong Chen
Jiehan
Zhengyu or
Zhengyu or
Zhengyu
Mark
Zhenyang
Bo Dong
Jiaming
Seanchia
Jason
Qi Fan
Huiyao
Tee Zhuo
Jeremy
Po En
Jie Xuan
Yong Yao
Bo Jun
Bo Xiang
Walter
Samuel
Our Gid
Bryan
Henry
Friends/Others
Hciband
SixAyeOhFive
PcpsP5Camp
Sylvia
Hanying
Qiya
Duxuan
Yvonne
Verniecia
Joan
Elena
Alvin
Charmaine
Chen Fang
Edward
Guo Wei
Huimin
Huiyi
Kevin
Lisa
Qiu Wen
Weng Guan
Yi Jie



old stuffs

August 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
December 2008

credits

designer joy.deprived
fonts&brushes xxx
images x
image hosting x
software

Adobe Photoshop CS3, Macromedia Dreamweaver 8.0