a friday night well spent.

It's 1230 on a Saturday morning, and I'm home already. I'm usually home during these hours, grinding those computer games I'm too old for. But the last few hours I spent with great company. We left early no doubt. We're growing too old for these late night getaways. A healthy party; where we don't wake up the next morning with a portion of our memory we cannot account for.

I think I will miss my youth; celebrating another friend's birthday got me thinking that I'm not that young anymore. I've never been a party animal; maybe I should have. I've never dared to try the many vices within reach; maybe I should have (I've already been acquainted with a new friend: booze, but I'm not used to his woozy ways, yet). I've never had a meaningful relationship with a girl I can cherish and love; maybe I should have.

I sigh a small sigh of regret mingled with contentment.

I'm not young anymore. We all aren't. I think I'm diving back into the reality of life too soon; I've not lived my immortal years to the fullest yet. It doesn't matter. I'll live the rest of my mortal years in the most fruitful of ways.

The booze is getting to me. Anyway, here's a shout-out to tanpeibao! happy birthday you.

the awesome saturday.

it's a good week.

APEC is finally over. I've made more phone calls than I usually do in a month. Ate free lunches and dinners on alternate days, saving me tonnes of money. I mean, my wallet is so heavy I can do reps with it.

I got new pickups for my wife. she sounds so much better now. What subjective sentences.

I dropped my phone in the bus. Only after alighting did I realise it was missing. The guys I was with at that time told me that the bus was going to make a U-turn. I hurriedly crossed the road, flagged an boarded the bus, conducted a frantic search like gollum who've just lost his precious, searched my seat a couple of times before the guy who found it waved the phone in my face. Awesomes.

Let's swing around in office chairs and grow mushrooms while we're at it.

pet spider.

So there's this little guy who've been sitting around on my kitchen counter. I see him everyday making my trips to the kitchen to fetch myself glasses of water. He's always there in the same area mooching around. Sometimes startled at my presence, he would "hop" a couple of times away, but only for a few centimeters, then pausing.

When he's relaxed and sure that I'm not going to turn him into a sonamabitch like my heroine mom did to that cockroach, he'll lazy around again, and just sit there as the hours tick by. Mr. Spider, you do know how to enjoy life don't you.

As far as I'm concerned, I'm not going to squish the little bugger. I don't know whether my family noticed him yet, but maybe we're affiliated to the Salticidae family, having some sort of a truce or something. You don't spider-shingz me, I don't spider-squish you. He's been there for at least 5 days now.

I just went to check on him; yep, still sitting there near the water jug. Maybe I can ask him to call his spider friends, and get them to weave a nice spider-silk shirt for me. That will be insanely cool. We'll let him laze there for now.

little bugger.

zombies! yet another MJ reference.

So this is how mom and dad come home feeling each day after work.



wow.

an MJ tribute. about time.

I've found a new sense of appreciation for Michael Jackson and his music. He is the King of Pop. His musicality is probably unmatchable. His dance moves revolutionary. I'm ashamed at myself for being influenced and succumbing to the negative media attention he received; at times gossiping and making crude jokes about the legend. It took his death for me to realise the amount of talent he possessed, and yet so freely shared it with the world. He had such a humble character, but was so misunderstood.

His gift of music, dance, and love lives on.

HOLY SCHMOLY!

It has been 9 days without an update. epic phail on my part. Its been one of those weeks when I've been contemplating much about my future. My time with the company has opened up my eyes to finally see the dark and forsaken path that lay before me.

Do I want to do this or not?

Yes that's right, am I going to continue doing another three or four years of torturous essays, readings, articles, essays, and more essays? I was sure I made up my mind two days ago, when I told me sister that I was going to study business after this. Then I realised, I'll still have to study for another three years of something I have completely no experience in. Somehow, NUS accepts ALL diplomas into their BA courses.

I could stick to what I'm doing. Then again, the local universities don't seem to give this diploma no shite. There's no discounts of modules or credit points. One of the senior psychos I work with, however, told me I'll breeze through university. That means I'll be studying three more years of what I've been studying for the past three years!

I was just asking for a sign, to deter me from this dark and forsaken path. Then chiang had to come online, praise me for my previous post and encouraging me to write a novel, making me feel all proud and egoistic inside. Thanks bangz, by the way, for the comment.

I don't want to read and write reports all my life!

engineering it is. I believe I've nonchalantly chosen this even darker path sometime ago in this very same blog. I hope I don't jinx myself.

okay, I'll play safe.

Architecture! I choose you!

scoreboard
mother: 1
cockroach: 0
son: -23057

I was ignorantly getting a glass of water from the kitchen; ignorant of who was watching, that is. A GIANT 6 feet 6 cm cockroach laid on the counter, ready to pounce do its thing.

I watched it for a couple of seconds, trying to scare it away with a few bangs on the counter top. It did little than to make it scurry along into the corner, then stopping, and watching me again with those beady little eyes. Afraid it might come back to haunt me later, I reached for the cheat weapon: Baygon.

With a couple of inaccurate sprays, I watched the bugger scurry away even more quickly. Having seemingly lost its cockroach senses, it started to run up the wall, down it, and onto the rice cooker, where it made several revolutions around the pot. I laughed quietly to myself, thinking that the fumes must have got to him. Instead, the fiend seemed to be regaining consciousness and looked as it it was composed enough to make a great escape!

Never, and not on my watch!

I readied my battle stance, grabbed a couple of wads of newspaper, and prepared for its imminent doom. With a one-two smack, I laid all but waste to the demon. It was clearly injured, but was still able to crawl its way along the floor in the most spastic of fashions. I watched it hobble across the floor, ready to deal the final blow.

At this point, mother walked in lazily and asked,

"What's happening?"

"Cockroach!", I replied.

"Is it big or small?", she queried.

"Big!", I shamelessly said.

"Where is it?", she asked.

"Here!", I replied, unbeknown of what was about to happen next.

She promptly bent down, grabbed the crawler off its feet, took the bunch of newspapers in my hand dropped the roach into it, and started stompin' a mud-hole out of that sonamabitch.

I stood there speechless, in awe of my heroine, my mother before me. Before I could fully take in the events that have just happened, she then proceeded to do the unthinkable. She opened the wads of newspaper, and checked whether the bugger was alive. When it unexpectedly scurried out for sweet freedom, my mother grabbed it again, placed it sqaure on the newspaper, covered it with another piece of newspaper, and whammed the beast to hell. She unfolded the gooey mess of roach-juice, saw that it was good, and discarded it into the trash.

All I could say was, "Mommy, wash your hands. There was insecticide on it."

All she could say was, "Wha lew. cockroach only leh."

mother: levelup.