<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081</id><updated>2011-08-30T07:09:05.285+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chronicles of a really really bored Polytechnic student.</title><subtitle type='html'>Questions are welcomed. I'd love a confession or two.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>102</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-7240291300351641795</id><published>2008-10-28T21:37:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T22:34:07.423+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anything is possible, part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;For anyone that's looking for part 1, it's &lt;a href="http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/12/you-know-anythings-possible-when-theres.html"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;After Ze Chuan pasted me the link about China, I'm inspired to do another post on something China made.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Like the previous gadget I featured on my blog, China has done it again. Yes, China has managed to "replicate" another 3rd generation console, mini PolyStation3. When abbreviated, it's "PS3". Yes, read it right, PS3. Not the one Sony made, people. The one China made. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Look at the difference:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/SQceqQGtBsI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/GCZCD5Zcj6s/s200/ps3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262208400832136898" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Picture taken from blog.japundit.com&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;and the one China made:&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 179px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/SQceqYS1nEI/AAAAAAAAAEY/vmBDNLoJJkk/s200/polystation-3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262208403030514754" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Picture taken from edmw&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They look similar, with the exception of that little screen popping out of that PS3. I'm a little disappointed that there's only one in-built game for the mini PolyStation3, unlike the vii, which has 12 in-built games. =\&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Exterior-wise, it looks like a PS3, with the exception of the little cute screen popping out where you are supposed to insert the games. Not forgetting that the original has a glossy finishing, unlike the PolyStation3, which is just pure plastic and shit. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Telling it apart is way too easy, as the PolyStation is way smaller than the original PS3, so you can tell it apart the moment you set your eyes upon that device. Since I've gotten this far, I've decided to include the plus points and the minus points of this product.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Minus points:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;One game in each console only, wtf?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;zomg crappy graphics, even Gamboy Color is better, imo&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Plus points:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;7 games in total&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;has it's own screen&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;uses 3 AA batteries, if I am correct&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;way cheaper than the original&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;And a review by ashens on youtube, who sacrificed his mini PolyStation3 for the greater good of the world :&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_a6lxiB1b_I&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_a6lxiB1b_I&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have nothing else to say.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-7240291300351641795?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/7240291300351641795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=7240291300351641795&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/7240291300351641795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/7240291300351641795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2008/10/anything-is-possible-part-2.html' title='Anything is possible, part 2'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/SQceqQGtBsI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/GCZCD5Zcj6s/s72-c/ps3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-5937548103121087967</id><published>2008-09-16T22:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T22:09:38.717+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just when you thought lions &gt; pigs,</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;a type of pig, known as a hog decided to prove that not all pigs get pwned by carnivores:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="450" height="370"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.liveleak.com/e/1fd_1220742059"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.liveleak.com/e/1fd_1220742059" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="450" height="370"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nice.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-5937548103121087967?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/5937548103121087967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=5937548103121087967&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5937548103121087967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5937548103121087967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2008/09/just-when-you-thought-lions-pigs.html' title='Just when you thought lions &gt; pigs,'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-7944305250953702691</id><published>2008-08-12T11:53:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T13:55:20.632+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jamin's first bird park trip.</title><content type='html'>On Sunday, we decided to go to the bird park, because some joker with the name of "Jamin" told us he had never gone to the bird park before. At first I thought he was lying, cause almost every primary school student has gone to the Jurong Bird Park at least once. I kept questioning him whether he had really went to the bird park before, until my other friend said something which made me believe Jamin.&lt;p&gt;"他没有看过鸡la.", which means he has never seen a chicken before in chinese, for non-chinese people.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Upon hearing that, it convinced me 100% that Jamin had never been to the bird park. Jun Yuan, who is the other friend whom I mentioned above, managed to get us free tickets. We were elated, cause the tickets were expensive. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm too lazy to elaborate on our trip there, but I shall post pictures which this blog seriously needs.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/SKEYKaV96oI/AAAAAAAAADA/qdDG95sS0PE/s200/Image000.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233490809130445442" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Bleddy hell, Jamin did not bring his camera, so we had to settle using our handphones to do the job. That's a picture of him and the man-nest girl I know in my life with the penguins in the background. Then they went ahead and asked me to take another picture of them with the penguins. They wanted to take another 1232862897901823091274762871 more pictures because it was raining outside, but I stopped them from taking even more by telling them that 1232862897901823091274762871 = 1 in my brain.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/SKEY5mkCWsI/AAAAAAAAADI/LUgYE4dXHkk/s200/Image001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233491619864533698" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thankfully they stopped taking even more pictures with the penguins, else I'll bust the limit blogger gives me. Jamin was in heaven, but I am descending into hell. I was the cameraman of the day, and it really sucks. Next up was the flamingos, and they TOOKANOTHERBLEDDYPICTUREZOMGWTFBBQLIEKLIEK(insert something here).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/SKEawDGPA-I/AAAAAAAAADQ/qD5DDAOTzaM/s200/Image002.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233493654748726242" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;From here on, it'll just be pictures, cause I'm too lazy to think of anything to write.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/SKEgc2mXhVI/AAAAAAAAADY/NIgBdm7Lejg/s200/Image003.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233499922046092626" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Jamin dropped his money.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/SKEgc-vciMI/AAAAAAAAADg/DiIou9zabBw/s200/Image004.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233499924231653570" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lies, parrots on display don't talk. Don't know why they are so happy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/SKEgdb5HlpI/AAAAAAAAADo/UWkVJuKJuKo/s200/Image005.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233499932056852114" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So many bleddy flamingoes. No wonder they look happy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/SKEgdRv0LZI/AAAAAAAAADw/KiqcAP5N5q4/s200/Image006.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233499929333476754" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't know what to say anymore.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/SKEgd7ilVjI/AAAAAAAAAD4/q7icKTZwIEQ/s200/Image009.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233499940552267314" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We are here to look at birds, not take pictures.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/SKElDkGKrWI/AAAAAAAAAEA/VcEgDSdsFOA/s200/Image017(01).jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233504985140604258" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Jiao bin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/SKElEanw95I/AAAAAAAAAEI/L3GF1nBq-xY/s200/Image015.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233504999777040274" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Your girlfriend never go, why got her picture? EH?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;At the end of the day, we didn't even see a chicken there. Anyone wants to chip in money to buy a chicken for Jamin?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-7944305250953702691?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/7944305250953702691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=7944305250953702691&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/7944305250953702691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/7944305250953702691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2008/08/jamins-first-bird-park-trip.html' title='Jamin&apos;s first bird park trip.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/SKEYKaV96oI/AAAAAAAAADA/qdDG95sS0PE/s72-c/Image000.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-8220162371269137898</id><published>2008-04-29T22:16:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T23:33:18.491+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forbidden Kingdom.</title><content type='html'>The not-so-latest action film to hit the Singapore cinemas, and I watched it today. To be&lt;br /&gt;honest, I'm glad that I spent only 5 bucks on the tickets to watch the movie. Phrases that stuck&lt;br /&gt;to me after watching is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gate of no gate", pretty much explains the rumoured staircase in design school that leads to another dimension. Maybe it should be named as "Stairs of no stairs".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that's the only phrase that made quite an impact. I am also particularly amused by the&lt;br /&gt;fact that how the chinese people can speak english in that period of time, when the Chinese there&lt;br /&gt;is no western influence in the film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I forget, Crystal Liu Yi Fei &gt;&gt;&gt; Li Bing Bing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-8220162371269137898?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/8220162371269137898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=8220162371269137898&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/8220162371269137898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/8220162371269137898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2008/04/forbidden-kingdom.html' title='Forbidden Kingdom.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-3574734609235156594</id><published>2008-04-22T21:19:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T21:32:27.679+08:00</updated><title type='text'>School.</title><content type='html'>School started yesterday, and it is filled with freshies taking their timetable wandering around TP,&lt;br /&gt;wondering which block is which. Enough of freshies walking, cause I'm sure no one wants to know &lt;br /&gt;how to differentiate freshies from the rest. School sucks as usual and this place is sure gonna be &lt;br /&gt;gone if I don't have interesting shit to update here. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-3574734609235156594?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/3574734609235156594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=3574734609235156594&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/3574734609235156594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/3574734609235156594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2008/04/school.html' title='School.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-5772256654708031295</id><published>2008-02-07T23:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T00:46:06.999+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten stupidest things I've done in my life.</title><content type='html'>Since it's like, New Year now, I've decided to do some sort of reflection like shit. I mean, since I'm eighteen and shit and my brain decided to go emo and shit and recalled some shit unconciously. So, I'm gonna list the ten things I recalled today in no particular order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Believing that idols are spelt as I-D-I-O-T-S. Might I say that I was eight at that time and it was my sister who gave me the spelling for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Developed a kind of hate for cars with manual cars for no particular reason at all. &lt;br /&gt;I hated manual cars so much that I spat at cars with manual gears wherever I went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Lost my sister's keys when I sneaked out of the house just to buy pokemon cards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Stole money from my father in the same year too. (2000)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Took higher chinese and failed miserably in most of my spellings, tests and &lt;br /&gt;exams. Thank god, there was no dictation for higher chinese then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Still playing pokemon cards in secondary one and two, instead of interacting with chicks of my age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Stupidly believed my friend that there was a Pasar Malam store in 201 that &lt;br /&gt;sold &lt;s&gt;pirated&lt;/s&gt; playstation games and walked around for 1 hour to no avail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Surfed porn late at night and almost got caught by my dad. No thanks &lt;br /&gt;to my laggy Dell, which managed to alt tab in the last minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Reformatted my Dell whenever it lagged. I think I reformatted it over 20 times? Sorry, my memory sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Watched a group of cute Japanese girls do stupid things on TV instead of studying like normal students do. I'd hate to admit that, but I religiously watch their videos the first thing I woke up in the morning then. Yes it was that bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After reading what I wrote, I think most of the points are not-so-stupid but still quite stupid afterall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-5772256654708031295?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/5772256654708031295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=5772256654708031295&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5772256654708031295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5772256654708031295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2008/02/ten-stupidest-things-ive-done-in-my.html' title='Ten stupidest things I&apos;ve done in my life.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-3310659807792647615</id><published>2008-02-03T08:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T09:30:35.545+08:00</updated><title type='text'>18.</title><content type='html'>Finally, reaching the stage where almost everyone wants to be. 18, where cigarettes and alchol are no longer out of reach to you. Same goes for movies. Fuck off NC16, hello M18. Oh, and thanks, T08, for getting the photobook I wanted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-3310659807792647615?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/3310659807792647615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=3310659807792647615&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/3310659807792647615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/3310659807792647615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2008/02/18.html' title='18.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-8191423780957335780</id><published>2007-12-12T18:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T23:00:32.927+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye to..</title><content type='html'>my Razer Diamondback. Yes, I shall officially retire my Razer Diamondback because it malfunctioned. To put it bluntly, it's fucking spoilt and I don't have the money to get a replacement, even though I love my Diamondback that much. Fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/R2kx3vPPETI/AAAAAAAAACY/pwSNcNYZ_eY/s200/12122007.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145698882890436914" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye, Diamondback. I'll &lt;s&gt;not&lt;/s&gt; miss you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-8191423780957335780?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/8191423780957335780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=8191423780957335780&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/8191423780957335780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/8191423780957335780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/12/goodbye-to.html' title='Goodbye to..'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/R2kx3vPPETI/AAAAAAAAACY/pwSNcNYZ_eY/s72-c/12122007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-6812039362097898562</id><published>2007-12-10T19:30:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T20:44:05.364+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You know anything's possible when there's a fake Wii in the market now.</title><content type='html'>Recently in mainland China, there's a new gaming console that bears a striking resemblance to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Nintendo's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;. I mean, cover-wise, it looks exactly like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well,almost. I mean, the names are almost similar. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; and Vii. Primary school students can &lt;br /&gt;boast to their classmates that they have Vii and be the coolest kid in class. I mean, Vii sounds so much like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;, even teachers can be mistaken. Here's a picture of a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; for comparison:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Nintendo's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/R10luMvXb7I/AAAAAAAAACA/ioqj7HRldtU/s200/Wii.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142307825151078322" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture taken from Amazon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not forgetting China's trademark Vii:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/R10obcvXb8I/AAAAAAAAACI/bHYFMF3PFOo/s200/vii.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142310801563414466" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture taken from letvgo.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so alike that even &lt;s&gt;I&lt;/s&gt; experts have a hard time telling them apart. I mean, the Vii does have the motion sensing shit that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; has, it even comes with 12 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-installed games! If you don't believe me, check out this commercial:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/e9rcqjB2tYc&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/e9rcqjB2tYc&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the way on how they emphasize on the twelve games, after considering the fact that some of the games are from Wii sports. They even declared that it garnered positive responses, despite it being released in China only. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I'd like to commend the one/two brave souls from China/Taiwan/whichever country you are from on their bravery to show us what is inside the &lt;s&gt;Wii&lt;/s&gt; Vii.&lt;br /&gt;Here's the video:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ncRWCVdFFM8&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ncRWCVdFFM8&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd call that taking nanotechnology to a new level.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-6812039362097898562?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/6812039362097898562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=6812039362097898562&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/6812039362097898562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/6812039362097898562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/12/you-know-anythings-possible-when-theres.html' title='You know anything&apos;s possible when there&apos;s a fake Wii in the market now.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/R10luMvXb7I/AAAAAAAAACA/ioqj7HRldtU/s72-c/Wii.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-3030980804414099676</id><published>2007-09-26T22:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T22:37:28.649+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Back from my "minor" hiatus.</title><content type='html'>Yes, after not blogging for a month and 12 days, I'm doing this post reluctantly cause I'm a little tired. Full bladders are causing me to wake up at 7 in the morning to pee, and chances of me being able to sleep after peeing is near 0%. Chances of me being REALLY tired at around 9+ is really &lt;br /&gt;quite a miracle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just had a foot massage just now, and I found out that it's not as painful as shown on TV. Should've known. They are ACTORS. They are supposed to ACT. If they don't act, they'll be fired. Though it doesn't really hurt, it hurts elsewhere in your body. Like my shoulders. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some dialogue between me and the uncle. We didn't talk much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle: "Your shoulders very stiff ah?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Yah"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle: "You see a lot of computer hor boy?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Yah"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle: "Your stomach very bloated ah?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Yah"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After hearing such responses, the uncle was sick off asking me questions. I'm not a good public speaker, and I don't really like to talk to strangers. Put me in a room full of strangers and I don't think I will talk unless someone talks to me first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, I went with Ming Han and saw a rat with huge ass balls. They are big and red, so one cannot miss them. It's even worse than a hamster that likes to run and attempt to flip itself and failing miserably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday dinners are so interesting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-3030980804414099676?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/3030980804414099676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=3030980804414099676&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/3030980804414099676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/3030980804414099676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/09/back-from-my-minor-hiatus.html' title='Back from my &quot;minor&quot; hiatus.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-5115792665240939845</id><published>2007-08-14T20:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T21:21:16.678+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Emo kid.</title><content type='html'>When you are failing your tests on a regular basis in poly and they all play a part in your final grade, you know it's time to either&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Take a knife and stab yourself&lt;br /&gt;2. Go emo and cut yourself and have a fringe as long as Paul Twohill.&lt;br /&gt;3. Jump down from the tallest building in Singapore. In my case, it will be just a HDB building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case I chicken out last minute, there's always the last option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Study like a mad little muthafucka and hope for the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my case, I'll pick option 4. Now if any genius would want to swap brains with me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-5115792665240939845?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/5115792665240939845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=5115792665240939845&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5115792665240939845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5115792665240939845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/08/emo-kid.html' title='Emo kid.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-4804455750249491964</id><published>2007-08-06T21:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T21:21:58.808+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You know something is horribly wrong when..</title><content type='html'>you catch your grandfather watching porn early in the morning. Yes, it's exactly like the "I not stupid 2" incident, where the young boy catches his brother and his friends watching porn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, like any other adult, my grandmother gave him a good telling off, talking in a dialect which I do not understand. Being a guy, I kind of understand my grandfather's feelings. He sat &lt;br /&gt;on his chair quietly, while maintaining his trademark grumpy look. Afterwards he wore his shirt,&lt;br /&gt;and went out to, somewhere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, school life are the secks, where there are so much guys around.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-4804455750249491964?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/4804455750249491964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=4804455750249491964&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/4804455750249491964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/4804455750249491964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/08/you-know-something-is-horribly-wrong.html' title='You know something is horribly wrong when..'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-2736728971354816576</id><published>2007-06-18T23:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-18T23:24:27.320+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A scandal. (Continued)</title><content type='html'>One day, Tom(that's his name) decides to do something outrageous. Picking up the sanitary pad in the bin, he kept it in his bag. "No one will find out if one used sanitary pad is gone. More space in the bin, and makes me all the more happier!" Tom thought to himself happily. He took a few more whiffs before stuffing the sanitary pad in his bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Day by day, he stole used sanitary pads. Scavenging in bins like a beggar looking for leftovers or aluminium cans to sell, he dug for sanitary pads. After a month, he scavenged enough to fill a huge black garbage bag full of sanitary pads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And out of respect of a friend, I decided to end this story. Sorry for asking you to ask a really sensitive question from your female friends. I apologise. Sorry, Ming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-2736728971354816576?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/2736728971354816576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=2736728971354816576&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/2736728971354816576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/2736728971354816576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/06/scandal-continued.html' title='A scandal. (Continued)'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-1520740371795734028</id><published>2007-05-08T18:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T18:51:43.594+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sentence of the day.</title><content type='html'>"Sotd" is the abbreviation of Sentence of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I found out one of my female classmate wore boxers to school and I decided to make fun of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Eh F, you wear boxers ah?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;F: Ya..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Goes on after much pointless ranting*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After going on and on, after hearing my friend tell me the wonders of wearing boxers, about how your testicles will feel very liberated and your penis will feel very, cool. Then I proceeded to ask the question of the day: "So you wear boxers your cheebye not cold ah?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncouth, I know. It's just once in a while that I'm that open with female classmates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other excerpts of the conversation (It's all about boxers.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much your boxers cost?&lt;br /&gt;Do you have an identity problem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only remember two of the questions only.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-1520740371795734028?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/1520740371795734028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=1520740371795734028&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/1520740371795734028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/1520740371795734028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/05/sentence-of-day.html' title='Sentence of the day.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-2054521959585270663</id><published>2007-05-02T21:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T21:33:12.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Digital Fundamentals.</title><content type='html'>Engineering doesn't fail to amaze me everytime I step into the lecture theatre. It's like a never-ending surprise! It's like a young boy learning the wonders of masturbation!1!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok enough with the bullcrap. I hardly understand a single shit in Digital Fundamentals. After being forced to abandon what my Kindgarden, Primary and Secondary school teachers had tried to instill in me that 1 + 1 = 0 carry 1, it's already shaking my already weak maths fundamentals! It's like telling a boy that yes darling it's wrong to masturbate for twelve years, and then suddenly, after twelve years of brainwashing, in your thirteenth year, when you masturbate, you are actually praised!1!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok let's not take it that far. Masturbation is wrong, kids. Don't take up masturbation. (Though if you pick it up, God will close one eye and pretend that he didn't see you doing that)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, now, I've been introduced with this Boolean rules or whatever that is making me cream in my pants. Sitting through an entire lecture without even understanding dear Boolean. God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-2054521959585270663?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/2054521959585270663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=2054521959585270663&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/2054521959585270663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/2054521959585270663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/05/digital-fundamentals.html' title='Digital Fundamentals.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-7056497745479998837</id><published>2007-04-23T21:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T22:19:34.826+08:00</updated><title type='text'>First day of school.</title><content type='html'>Temasek Poly is like the coolest shit on Earth. 3 hours of lab lessons, where I barely understand a single thing of what the teacher is talking. It's like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher (Holds up a resistor): Class, what is this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Class (Answering in unision): Resistor!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can imagine me sitting in the front seat still scratching my head trying to figure out what the hell is the teacher asking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's some random lecture, where everyone listens intently on what the lecturer has to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next up, there's Engineering maths. It's like the coolest shit, and if you don't take it, your popularity decreases like 9129312093871209837801273 times. The lecturer I have is like the coolest one in Temasek Poly. We learned "Quarelling equations", and it's like the coolest thing I've learned in my life. It's even better than learning how to *gasps*, wank!1!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then finally it's the tutorial, and being briefed about how they are gonna grade us for the fourth time in the day, it's really driving me mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope there won't be any more briefings on how we are to be graded, or I will be execute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-7056497745479998837?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/7056497745479998837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=7056497745479998837&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/7056497745479998837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/7056497745479998837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/04/first-day-of-school.html' title='First day of school.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-8336606528136065032</id><published>2007-04-16T20:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T21:23:18.968+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A scandal.</title><content type='html'>With each whiff, energy flows through his body like a unstoppable hurricane. Each whiff made him feel like he conquered Mount Everest in one day. He was in, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;seventh heaven.&lt;/span&gt; He would secretly steal his girlfriend's sanitary pad, and stuff it into his bag secretly. Few knew his secret, and it's his scandal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He would find himself smelling unconsciously at his girlfriend's sanitary pad unknowingly at first, but when he caught himself smelling the sanitary pad, he would throw it away like it's filth. Deep in his heart, he's enjoying every moment of it. This addiction is like a monster, eating into him. At first, he smells just once a day. However, this monster within him is eating into him slowly, yet steadily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smelling it thrice a day, morning, before he has sex with his girlfriend and before he sleeps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I really have no idea how to continue this story. Someone, give me ideas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-8336606528136065032?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/8336606528136065032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=8336606528136065032&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/8336606528136065032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/8336606528136065032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/04/scandal.html' title='A scandal.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-5897289206819033556</id><published>2007-04-13T22:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T23:08:14.669+08:00</updated><title type='text'>School.</title><content type='html'>Yes, school is starting. In exactly I don't know how many hours, minutes and seconds, I'm about to go to school after four to five months of holidays. With Melvin slacking at home frequently, Kingston and I working till last week and Ming Han studying, we hardly have time to sit back and well, enjoy quality time together. OK FINE. We did enjoy quality time together, but it's not really enough. My social circle is still very small, while my friends have their ever-growing circle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, Kingston has started school, already. In Republic Polytechnic taking Supply chain and logistics, he's determined to take over the place of Ali, Fila's current warehouse manager.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melvin is taking some kinda business course with logistics inside. Like I know what it's about or Melvin's ambition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm taking computer engineering. As quoted from Temasek Polytechnic's website, it states that they are gonna train me to be a  technologist and blah blah blah. Read the text below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Diploma in Computer Engineering aims to develop a pool of technologists skilled in the areas of computer engineering and internet applications and also individuals who are good problem-solvers and team-players with a zeal for life-long learning. This will enable them to remain competent and relevant in their professional careers in the dynamic workplace."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hell, as if I'm gonna know anyone cool in there. I guess all of my soon-to-be coursemates are nerds and what-nots. Cool, considering my future job scope. Nice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-5897289206819033556?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/5897289206819033556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=5897289206819033556&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5897289206819033556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5897289206819033556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/04/school.html' title='School.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-5957502925184852786</id><published>2007-04-01T20:13:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T21:16:45.280+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy/Mummy when I grow up..</title><content type='html'>Daddy when I grow up, I want to be like Qi Han.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to win people in pool so that people will give me one hundred dollars when I play pool and make people run around the place naked when I win them. I must win them everytime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be so powderful in DotA that when I'm not with that noob James, Ming Han, Kingston and Melvin, I'll own everyone. However, when I play with them, I suddenly become very noob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be a babe magnet. Everywhere I go, I will attract girls and they will like me. When my friends ask me to give them some of the girls numbers, I must be selfish and not give them any.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to master Thai boxing and Muay Thai in 4 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to show off to my secondary school classmates that my intelligence is that of Melvin and Kingston. James is plain stupid, so I don't want to be like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to smoke in the toilet and get caught by the Operations Manager, so when I return to class, I can show off the "ohsocool" palm-hitting-fist action to my friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I want to dance to Cascada's "Everytime we touch". I must come up with more and more stupid dances so I look very cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh wait, I'd like to add one more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to lend a mp3 from my friends so I can dance along to the beat of the tetno songs they have in their mp3 so I will look cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly, I don't want to be like Qi Han. I'm already degrading myself when I'm writing this post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-5957502925184852786?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/5957502925184852786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=5957502925184852786&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5957502925184852786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5957502925184852786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/04/daddymummy-when-i-grow-up.html' title='Daddy/Mummy when I grow up..'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-378176362266490359</id><published>2007-03-25T21:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-25T22:07:19.163+08:00</updated><title type='text'>UIO</title><content type='html'>Yes, I know. You people have heard of UFOs right? Unidentified Flying Objects. I bet, that the people reading the title must be scratching their already bald head, tearing their scalp into shreds trying to comprehend the abbreviation UIO. As a uber-gosu-h4x guy, UIO mean UnIdentified Object.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, being the camwhore Kingston really is, Kingston volunteered to be my model and take pictures with the UIO. Sometimes I think that my N73 is more of a tool for Kingston's camwhoring habit. It's more of a curse, than a blessing. Next time I think I'll take a phone with a lousy camera when I'm meeting Kingston.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, enough bitching. Pictures of Kingston with the UIO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/RgZ-2FUQ00I/AAAAAAAAABs/29Vn4Zvy05g/s1600-h/22032007032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/RgZ-2FUQ00I/AAAAAAAAABs/29Vn4Zvy05g/s320/22032007032.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045859900120421186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/RgZ_AVUQ01I/AAAAAAAAAB0/qc28mLO1lP0/s1600-h/22032007033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/RgZ_AVUQ01I/AAAAAAAAAB0/qc28mLO1lP0/s320/22032007033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045860076214080338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time when I try to take pictures, I'll do it more discreetly so that Kingston doesn't know that I'm taking pictures. If he knows, he will want to be in the picture, which is something I wouldn't want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S : Yes I fucking know that the UIO is a product of some disassembling of some iron shit or the aftermath of accidents. Ffs, that's not even a UIO. Don't go believing me psychoing you that there are UIOs in this world. They don't fucking exist.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-378176362266490359?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/378176362266490359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=378176362266490359&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/378176362266490359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/378176362266490359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/03/uio.html' title='UIO'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/RgZ-2FUQ00I/AAAAAAAAABs/29Vn4Zvy05g/s72-c/22032007032.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-8212289108842684362</id><published>2007-03-17T16:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-17T17:14:45.055+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fila.</title><content type='html'>Yes, I'm working in Fila now, instead of the "zomgwtfbbqliekliek" Shop and Save. Actually, Fila is also pretty "zomgwtfbbqliek" though not as h4x as Shop and Save.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, the assistant manager said before we leave Fila, they will give us souvenirs. (By saying we, Kingston and I are colleagues now. ) I thought they will be giving us some of Fila products as a souvenir. Until today, my supervisor shed some light on what my punishment would be. All the warehouse Fila staff will catch me, tie me up to one of the poles in the warehouse, strip me naked, glue all my pubic hair together and put an egg over the mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucky for me, my supervisor has told me how to get myself out of this.. &lt;s&gt;horrible&lt;/s&gt; "ohmygodilovethis" fate. He said unless I get a girlfriend, I will be subjected to this torment. So please, any females reading this, be my girlfriend or I will be execute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-8212289108842684362?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/8212289108842684362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=8212289108842684362&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/8212289108842684362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/8212289108842684362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/03/fila.html' title='Fila.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-4094092328541336352</id><published>2007-02-28T21:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T22:25:51.625+08:00</updated><title type='text'>www.urbandictionary.com</title><content type='html'>Today, I'm gonna introduce this awesome website to you non-existent readers. Yes, copy the title and paste it in your URL. Yes, before you close your browser down, allow me to show you why this website is the sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go to &lt;a href="http://urbandictionary.com"&gt;www.urbandictionary.com&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Search for the word "Melvin", and this pops out first. It made me laugh for quite sometime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr valign="top"&gt;&lt;td class="def_number" width="20"&gt;1.&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_word"&gt;Melvin&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_thumbs"&gt;       &lt;table style="margin-left: auto;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="3"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(1401028, 1)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsup.gif" id="thumbs_1401028_1_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td nowrap="nowrap"&gt;&lt;span id="thumbs_1401028"&gt;&lt;b&gt;247&lt;/b&gt; up, &lt;b&gt;67&lt;/b&gt; down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(1401028, 0)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsdown.gif" id="thumbs_1401028_0_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;    &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td colspan="2"&gt;       &lt;div class="def_p"&gt;          &lt;p&gt;A severely odd and uncool person.&lt;br /&gt;A wimp or a tool.&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mom, why do I have to play in the marching band?  All the band kids are frickin' Melvins.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Wow, I'm speechless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next up, we have the word, "Kingston".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr valign="top"&gt;&lt;td class="def_number" width="20"&gt;2.&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_word"&gt;Kingston&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_thumbs"&gt;       &lt;table style="margin-left: auto;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="3"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(2263788, 1)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsup.gif" id="thumbs_2263788_1_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td nowrap="nowrap"&gt;&lt;span id="thumbs_2263788"&gt;&lt;b&gt;1&lt;/b&gt; thumb up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(2263788, 0)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsdown.gif" id="thumbs_2263788_0_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;    &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td colspan="2"&gt;       &lt;div class="def_p"&gt;          &lt;p&gt;1.) Picturesque, historically significant small city (technically a town) on the eastern end of Lake Ontario.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) Soul-destroyingly boring place to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.) A great place to take a shit.&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lucky for us, Kingston was halfway between Toronto and Montreal (or Ottawa and Toronto, for that matter). Sure beats taking a crap in Napanee.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;I'm totally speechless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Second last word, we have the word "James".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr valign="top"&gt;&lt;td class="def_number" width="20"&gt;6.&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_word"&gt;james&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_thumbs"&gt;       &lt;table style="margin-left: auto;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="3"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(2106251, 1)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsup.gif" id="thumbs_2106251_1_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td nowrap="nowrap"&gt;&lt;span id="thumbs_2106251"&gt;&lt;b&gt;55&lt;/b&gt; up, &lt;b&gt;132&lt;/b&gt; down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(2106251, 0)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsdown.gif" id="thumbs_2106251_0_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;    &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td colspan="2"&gt;       &lt;div class="def_p"&gt;          &lt;p&gt;a derogatory term for someone who is a homosexual.&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"look at peter, he is such a james"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;I'm so glad that 132 people disagreed with this meaning. There is a high chance that their names must be James.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Last but not least, we have the word "Ming". It has the most variations of meanings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr valign="top"&gt;&lt;td class="def_number" width="20"&gt;5.&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_word"&gt;ming&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_thumbs"&gt;       &lt;table style="margin-left: auto;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="3"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(2039615, 1)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsup.gif" id="thumbs_2039615_1_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td nowrap="nowrap"&gt;&lt;span id="thumbs_2039615"&gt;&lt;b&gt;3&lt;/b&gt; up, &lt;b&gt;8&lt;/b&gt; down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(2039615, 0)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsdown.gif" id="thumbs_2039615_0_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;    &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td colspan="2"&gt;       &lt;div class="def_p"&gt;          &lt;p&gt;schoolboy bitch teacher hired by the U.S. Pres. to infiltrate students confidence and rat their drug habits out&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;oral fixation, its an addiction said ming.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Now we know, why American kids do not have any drug habits. (This is a joke)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr valign="top"&gt;&lt;td class="def_number" width="20"&gt;6.&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_word"&gt;ming&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_thumbs"&gt;       &lt;table style="margin-left: auto;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="3"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(1936505, 1)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsup.gif" id="thumbs_1936505_1_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td nowrap="nowrap"&gt;&lt;span id="thumbs_1936505"&gt;&lt;b&gt;13&lt;/b&gt; up, &lt;b&gt;18&lt;/b&gt; down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(1936505, 0)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsdown.gif" id="thumbs_1936505_0_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;    &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td colspan="2"&gt;       &lt;div class="def_p"&gt;          &lt;p&gt;Another word for shit, predominately used as a verb&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hector: "WHOA, I have to ming really bad"&lt;br /&gt;Lionel: "So your saying you have to lay a dynasty?"&lt;/p&gt;         &lt;div class="tags"&gt;tags &lt;a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=shit"&gt;shit&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=crap"&gt;crap&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=poop"&gt;poop&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=ming"&gt;ming&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=bike"&gt;bike&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What more can I say? Instead of saying "shit!", you can start saying "ming!"! Now your mom won't know what you are saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr valign="top"&gt;&lt;td class="def_number" width="20"&gt;7.&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_word"&gt;ming&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_thumbs"&gt;       &lt;table style="margin-left: auto;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="3"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(482384, 1)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsup.gif" id="thumbs_482384_1_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td nowrap="nowrap"&gt;&lt;span id="thumbs_482384"&gt;&lt;b&gt;18&lt;/b&gt; up, &lt;b&gt;26&lt;/b&gt; down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(482384, 0)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsdown.gif" id="thumbs_482384_0_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;    &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td colspan="2"&gt;       &lt;div class="def_p"&gt;          &lt;p&gt;A person who has no talent and little knowledge of the job that they perform.&lt;br /&gt;A totally useless person who only exists by getting others to do his work for him.  A commercial parasite.&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The new I.T. Manager is a total Ming, he spends all day downloading porn!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;The porn part resembles someone I know. Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last one is so zomgwtfbqliekliekh4x that I don't think you people will believe it and call me a liar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr valign="top"&gt;&lt;td class="def_number" width="20"&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr valign="top"&gt;&lt;td class="def_number" width="20"&gt;4.&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_word"&gt;ming&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_thumbs"&gt;       &lt;table style="margin-left: auto;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="3"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(666898, 1)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsup.gif" id="thumbs_666898_1_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td nowrap="nowrap"&gt;&lt;span id="thumbs_666898"&gt;&lt;b&gt;45&lt;/b&gt; up, &lt;b&gt;49&lt;/b&gt; down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(666898, 0)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsdown.gif" id="thumbs_666898_0_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;    &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td colspan="2"&gt;       &lt;div class="def_p"&gt;          &lt;p&gt;A human who possesses limitless knowledge and infinite wisdom. His name sends shivers down the spines of all and may only be uttered under the breath of a whisper. His aura alone makes people shit themself.&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;kid&gt; Daddy, I want to be like Ming when I grow up and be worshipped by followers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;dad&gt; Don't be silly no mere mortal can be as godly as the great and merciful Ming.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;.&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_word"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td class="def_thumbs"&gt;       &lt;table style="margin-left: auto;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="3"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(482384, 1)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsup.gif" id="thumbs_482384_1_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td nowrap="nowrap"&gt;&lt;span id="thumbs_482384"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:void(0)" onclick="thumbs.click(482384, 0)"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.urbandictionary.com/thumbsdown.gif" id="thumbs_482384_0_gif" height="19" width="19" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;    &lt;/td&gt; &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;    &lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;    &lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Somehow, I feel that Ming Han wrote this meaning himself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-4094092328541336352?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/4094092328541336352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=4094092328541336352&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/4094092328541336352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/4094092328541336352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/02/wwwurbandictionarycom.html' title='www.urbandictionary.com'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-5490518600738105807</id><published>2007-02-27T18:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T19:09:24.860+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird reaction or stupidity, decide for yourself.</title><content type='html'>In all my life, I've come across many weird things. Never in my life, have I come across someone who passes off as either&lt;br /&gt;1: Weird&lt;br /&gt;or&lt;br /&gt;2:Stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it happened when I took my 'O' Level results. We were busy counting our L1R4 or L1R5 to see whether what courses and (hopefully) what JCs we could enter. Then after we did our counting, Qi Han came up to me and requested that I help him count his L1R4. After counting, picking the subjects he did best, he got a 26. Well, considering the fact that he scraped through most of the papers, I think that score is pretty reasonable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then 我的 L1R5 leh?"&lt;br /&gt;"三十多分 la!"&lt;br /&gt;"Huh? 这么高 meh?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go figure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-5490518600738105807?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/5490518600738105807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=5490518600738105807&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5490518600738105807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5490518600738105807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/02/weird-reaction-or-stupidity-decide-for.html' title='Weird reaction or stupidity, decide for yourself.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-7310632960052163868</id><published>2007-02-13T23:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-10T00:06:58.568+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's day.</title><content type='html'>Yes, Valentine's day is approaching. The day where poor guys dread and girls giggle with joy, as guys give girls expensive gifts to show off how rich they are. I remember, in primary school, if you profess your love to someone you like in class, you will be jeered, ostracized and whatever you can think off. Now, in secondary school, it's a different story. If you don't have a girlfriend, you will be deemed as a loser. Indeed, I fall under that category. Laugh all you want. Ridicule me. Yes, I'm an old ugly fart. I'm a fat loser, sitting at the computer desk with one scratching my humoungous sweaty ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, throwing all my pride to the winds : Anyone wants to be my valentine? It's a pointless question, I know. No one will be my valentine. =(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-7310632960052163868?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/7310632960052163868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=7310632960052163868&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/7310632960052163868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/7310632960052163868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/02/valentines-day.html' title='Valentine&apos;s day.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-3063843687911173003</id><published>2007-02-09T22:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T20:42:54.050+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The end.</title><content type='html'>Continued..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting on the floor of the hall with a sweaty ass, his heart was pounding on his ribcages audibly.  Strangely enough, no one seemed to ask him why, as they thought they might be hearing their own heart thump. *thump* *thump* As each second passed, he cursed silently under his breath, as the teacher briefed them on what's gonna happen next. After the long briefing, the results are distributed. One after another his classmates got his results, the more anxious he got. Finally, it was his turn. Shivering, he took his result from his expressionless form teacher. He feared for the worse, and regretted watching "zomgkawaii" girls on a comedy show during his 'O's. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, what will happen if he gets, *gasp* 45 for his L1R4? When he peeked into his results, he could hardly believe what he saw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, readers, the rest is up to your imaginations. Let your imagination run wild!1!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-3063843687911173003?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/3063843687911173003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=3063843687911173003&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/3063843687911173003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/3063843687911173003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/02/end.html' title='The end.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-7201665875459749340</id><published>2007-02-08T20:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T22:36:36.454+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A story that will be continued tomorrow.</title><content type='html'>Sweat formed on his palms. He was nervous, not knowing what will be his fate. 16 years of his life flew by (yeah right) like a flash, and his future depended on a stupid slip of paper. The time to collect his results had not arrived yet. Now, even sweat formed on his forehead. His friends, seeing him in this state, said "Wah, kan cheong until lidat ah? So no confidence meh?" He (the main character) replied "No lah, is the hall very hot, not I kan cheong. Don't kennyhow anyhow say la." Garnering a few nervous laughs, everyone is nervous now. Even the smartass who got eight marks for L1R5 during his prelims is feeling nervous now. Time ticked by as slow as a snail, so slow that he swore that he saw the second hand was turning backwards. The dreaded moment was arriving, and the story will be continued tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, I don't feel like going to work tomorrow. Unless I jump in joy at 2.30p.m, I think I'm gonna be in a mood that's pretty emo. So much for being an anti-emo kid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-7201665875459749340?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/7201665875459749340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=7201665875459749340&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/7201665875459749340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/7201665875459749340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/02/story-that-will-be-continued-tomorrow.html' title='A story that will be continued tomorrow.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-841288986334060315</id><published>2007-02-06T21:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T22:33:32.562+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I got trolled,</title><content type='html'>and I don't care at all. Yes, as you people can see on my tagboard, Sharon had managed to leave quite a long message there which I didn't know of until Ming told me. I'm quite astounded that she even knew of the existence of my blog, and quite happy that there is one more reader. After the &lt;a href="http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/02/birthday-special.html"&gt;previous post&lt;/a&gt; which created quite a big hoo-ha with Sharon. Yes, Ming has analysed the chunk of text which Sharon typed painstakingly and has the translation over at his h4xx0rzxzx vox. You can find the post &lt;a href="http://fiasco.vox.com/library/post/post-40.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, which took my internet connection great pains to reach this page. It took exactly 76.160 seconds to reach here, according to the "Fasterfox Page Load Timer" I got installed in my Mozilla browser. H4x. That's why I hate the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok I have to stop digressing. If not this post will never be complete. I actually intended to go back to her blog and troll her and have my sweet revenge, but the horror! She deleted her blog!1! N..n..n..now I can't flame her!1! Nuuuu~ Just when I contemplated going to her friendster and blog about her friendster profile, my friend sent me quite a number of funny videos and I forgot about revenge, miraculously! I reflected on my actions, and I found out a number of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1: Sharon doesn't like people to make fun of her, but she likes to make fun of people.&lt;br /&gt;2: Sharon is younger than me, yet I have to listen to her? Liekzomgwtfbbqwth?&lt;br /&gt;3: Sharon has a short fuse.&lt;br /&gt;4: Hello, it's the internet. If you don't like it, then don't use it. No one's forcing you.&lt;br /&gt;5: Somehow I dread this coming Friday.&lt;br /&gt;6: My death might be inevitable.&lt;br /&gt;7: I don't have a seventh point, but I think seven is a lucky number. People don't say "Lucky 7!1!" for nothing, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much for not caring. I ended up typing so much redundant shit that it my whole body is aching. (I'll bet that Sharon will be gloating over my uh.. aches. So much for being in SJAB.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye, people. I know, I'll get struck by lightning because for making fun of Sharon. She are teh 1337 h4x b1mb0!1!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-841288986334060315?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/841288986334060315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=841288986334060315&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/841288986334060315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/841288986334060315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-got-trolled.html' title='I got trolled,'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-3878430370864177658</id><published>2007-02-02T23:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T23:22:20.870+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday special.</title><content type='html'>Because it's my birthday today, I've decided to come up with a post. Actually, I'm too lazy to prepare the materials (just two pictures) but Cleone &lt;s&gt;just had to be an ass&lt;/s&gt; confessed that she is a fan of my blog, which made me feel compelled to blog today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm gonna blog about Sharon, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;againg.&lt;/span&gt; It's just picture. Don't expect more than just a picture or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna go into the details, so you people will have a rough idea of what I'm gonna do later. Actually, I've conducted a survey with &lt;s&gt;a person&lt;/s&gt; some people about the difference in looks between Sharon and me. Surprisingly, &lt;s&gt;that person&lt;/s&gt; the people doing the survey said that I show an uncanny resemblance to Sharon! The blasphemy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without further ado, let me show you the picture which I used for comparison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/RcNWHlefBcI/AAAAAAAAABU/Ml2_5uVraSk/s1600-h/yuch.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/RcNWHlefBcI/AAAAAAAAABU/Ml2_5uVraSk/s320/yuch.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026956297394652610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me show you the picture of myself, which I used for the comparison. (Note, If you have any illness or health problems, please avoid looking at the next picture. If you contract any incurable disease or any illness because of looking at the next picture, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!1!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without further ado, the picture I used for comparison:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/RcNWkVefBdI/AAAAAAAAABc/vm2M_nKvyb4/s1600-h/Image%28098%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/RcNWkVefBdI/AAAAAAAAABc/vm2M_nKvyb4/s320/Image%28098%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026956791315891666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't we look so alike?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-3878430370864177658?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/3878430370864177658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=3878430370864177658&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/3878430370864177658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/3878430370864177658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/02/birthday-special.html' title='Birthday special.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/RcNWHlefBcI/AAAAAAAAABU/Ml2_5uVraSk/s72-c/yuch.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-5091610435585935429</id><published>2007-01-30T21:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-30T22:23:56.685+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sharon.</title><content type='html'>Yes, today, I'm gonna talk about Sharon. Yes, somehow, after looking at her blog, I wonder if her english has always been that bad, or it's the aftermath of looking at that H4X picture I posted in my previous post. Nevermind, you people had better appreciate this post, cause it's gonna take lots of cropping and shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without ado, let me show you what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First error:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/Rb9N_FefBYI/AAAAAAAAAAg/8tgrmCLPHsc/s1600-h/untitled1.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/Rb9N_FefBYI/AAAAAAAAAAg/8tgrmCLPHsc/s320/untitled1.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025821455365899650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i was the most num of plates in my life."? So Sharon has a special ability, which allows her to transform into plates. Wow, H4X. Apparently, she managed to transform into a lot of plates today, better than her previous attempts. Let's congratulate her for achieving this.. milestone. We are happy. Best. (I know it's a typo, ffs. BUT GIVE ME A CHANCE TO MAKE FUN OF PEOPLE FOR ONCE CAN?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second error:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/Rb9Ph1efBZI/AAAAAAAAAAo/SSRVqZ3AoeA/s1600-h/untitled2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/Rb9Ph1efBZI/AAAAAAAAAAo/SSRVqZ3AoeA/s320/untitled2.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025823151877981586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, she went shopping. I know there's nothing wrong with the phrase "shopping day", BUT, BUT, BUT, this sentence is going to change your mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/Rb9QB1efBaI/AAAAAAAAAAw/DEWiy9sazGA/s1600-h/untitled3.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/Rb9QB1efBaI/AAAAAAAAAAw/DEWiy9sazGA/s320/untitled3.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025823701633795490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, this is the first time I've seen this. People bringing things to go shopping? My god. Unless Shop N Save is really taking away 90% of my time to socialize with people, I don't think people BRING things to go shopping. Let's take a look at what she "brought" to go shopping with her mum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/Rb9Q21efBbI/AAAAAAAAAA4/ymUhOKvSUkg/s1600-h/untitled4.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/Rb9Q21efBbI/AAAAAAAAAA4/ymUhOKvSUkg/s320/untitled4.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5025824612166862258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh. I see. She brings a belt, pants, a bag and a nail polish to go shopping with her mum. Now, allow me to think what is she gonna do with these things when she enters a shopping centre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1: Belt - Grab nearby a yan dao kia and drag them to the toilet for hot steamy action. Belt is used to whip the helpless male into giving her good, hot, steamy sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2: Pants - For her to change into after sexual intercourse lest the yan dao kia anyhow kennyhow spurts his semen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3: Bag - Used to hold the above items I mentioned above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4: Nail polish - Now I'm stumped. I have no idea what she can do with the nail polish. Quote from Smosh video, "&lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=dewxCGrauco"&gt;That damned neighbour&lt;/a&gt;" : " I really have no idea how you did that. That's just bad-ass that I'm not even mad at you." I know, there's no link, but it sounds good. Thought it might sound good here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ZOMG LA KNN. SHE GOT SO MANY KNN ERROR THAT IF I STATE THEM ALL DOWN, I SWEAR THAT I WON'T GET TO SLEEP. I HAVE TO WORK AT SEVEN IN THE MORNING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One point I'd like to point out that she likes to type "hahaha" after every few sentences. Another point is that she thinks typing like tHiS aRe VeRy CoOl NeHsSs. She didn't state that, but anyone infer that, from the way she types her profile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the part about the sex part is completely fictional. Don't go believing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/FORALL%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-5091610435585935429?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/5091610435585935429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=5091610435585935429&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5091610435585935429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5091610435585935429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/01/sharon.html' title='Sharon.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/Rb9N_FefBYI/AAAAAAAAAAg/8tgrmCLPHsc/s72-c/untitled1.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-6611584487207619852</id><published>2007-01-16T19:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T19:57:12.773+08:00</updated><title type='text'>An eternity.</title><content type='html'>After like an eternity, I've decided to pick my lazy ass of the bed and shift my heavy ass to the chair to start blogging, for non-existent people who are reading my blog. Work is already taking up 90% of my time, thus I rarely have time to socialize (like anyone wants to go out with me). Instead of blogging about how pwntorzxzxxz Shop N Save is, I'm gonna blog about something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm gonna blog about how PWNT their english is. The one I'm working in, mind you. First off, let's start off with this word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1: Fair-sing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I know. You must be scratching your head so hard that you're gonna go bald in seconds trying to comprehend what this word is. It simply means.. facing. Oh stupid me, words like that must be resounding in your mind. Don't worry, this ain't the worse yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2: Fidger&lt;br /&gt;Go figure. Don't worry, even Ming Han got it wrong. In fact, this word is so pwntorzxzxzxzxz that I'm so ashamed of myself that I got it right on the first try. I feel like banging my head against the wall now. For those already bald and are attempting to scratch off your scalp, here's the answer : freezer. If you're wondering what Ming Han's answer is, it's Fridger. Not that there's a word called fridger in the dictionary, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3: The third one is a picture. Goes to show how h4x the Shop N Save I work 4r3 ownage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warning: Look at the picture at your own risk. If your english standard has deproved by at least 4 to 5 grades by looking at that picture, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, BITCH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without further ado, the h4x picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/Ray8G1efBWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/3oI4ZfaF3hs/s1600-h/Image%28095%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/Ray8G1efBWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/3oI4ZfaF3hs/s320/Image%28095%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5020594510231438690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And a colleague of mine told me not to act like I know everything. Well, at least I know more english than you do, NOOB.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-6611584487207619852?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/6611584487207619852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=6611584487207619852&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/6611584487207619852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/6611584487207619852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2007/01/eternity.html' title='An eternity.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_uHyWLPWESyA/Ray8G1efBWI/AAAAAAAAAAM/3oI4ZfaF3hs/s72-c/Image%28095%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-5646492823021881816</id><published>2006-12-22T23:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T23:36:02.741+08:00</updated><title type='text'>People of Mount Ali.</title><content type='html'>Yes, a new species of humans have been discovered. They too, are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;homo sapiens&lt;/span&gt; like us. Just that, these people have very much different characteristics from us normal humans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, allow me to tell you people, how I got hold of such a weird species of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;homo sapiens&lt;/span&gt;. It was through a song that allowed me to find out that such people exist on Earth. I did some R&amp;amp;R (Research and Research) and I found out that the singer (god knows who) stumbled upon the people of Mount Ali and decided to sing a song about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'll explain how weird people of Mount Ali are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The females are fat like water, and on Mount Ali, fat people are beautiful, just like Tonga.&lt;br /&gt;Fat = Beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guys are strong like mountains, thus they are global weight-lifting champions. Due to their unrivalled strength, they are prohibited from entering the Olympics, as they would be the undisputed champions in the weight-lifting, javelin-throwing, discus throwing and other segments that require strength.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People of Mount Ali are hard to spot, as the mountain moves. Yes, you read it right. Mount Ali moves. Whenever the security cameras near Mount Ali catch sight of any humans, the males carry the mountain and move to another location. The singer catching sight of the people living on Mount Ali was purely coincidental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: This story is purely coincidental. Anything said here that is true in the real life is purely accidental. If you're featured here by accident, good for you then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-5646492823021881816?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/5646492823021881816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=5646492823021881816&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5646492823021881816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5646492823021881816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/12/people-of-mount-ali.html' title='People of Mount Ali.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-4692821416809832262</id><published>2006-12-17T20:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-17T20:46:30.458+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Uncle. (Part 2)</title><content type='html'>Yes, I got called an Uncle, again. I'm seriously considering quitting my job in Shop and Save. Bleddy hell, if I get called an uncle one more time, I'm quitting my job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all happened on Friday, and I saw a mother, her daughter and the maid. The daughter stuck her hands into her mum's pants and touched her butt. That, didn't shock me. What's worse was that the mother said "Stop it! Uncle looking!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Omfg. I want to cry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-4692821416809832262?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/4692821416809832262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=4692821416809832262&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/4692821416809832262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/4692821416809832262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/12/uncle-part-2.html' title='Uncle. (Part 2)'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-1497121852585728567</id><published>2006-12-10T21:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-10T21:39:42.898+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Uncle.</title><content type='html'>"Don't anyhow touch! Later uncle angry!" a man told his toddler. Obviously, he was pointing to me. I don't look that old, do I? Minus the white hair I have, I look like a sixteen year old going seventeen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-1497121852585728567?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/1497121852585728567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=1497121852585728567&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/1497121852585728567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/1497121852585728567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/12/uncle.html' title='Uncle.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-4788105690341026216</id><published>2006-11-23T00:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-23T00:51:24.464+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Graduation night.</title><content type='html'>Yes, it's graduation night today. Yes, I forgot it graduation night falls on a Wednesday instead of Thursday. Thus, I wore some crappy shirt and a pair of over-sized jeans to graduation night. Yes, no one ever said that you are forbidden to wear anything that will make you look like an idiot. It's not illegal. Just that you will feel very disgraced or very embarrassed, when everyone is wearing very smartly and you're the only one that looks like an idiot. Take it from me, I experienced how it feels to be so embarrassed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I managed to borrow a blazer from Iskandar, and I (miraculously) managed to fit it, without spoiling it. Wowzorzxz, I are thin. H4X!1! Then, we there's a speech made by Mr Neo, some ex-student, and two student councillors. Of course, no one paid any attention to Mr Neo, everyone was waiting for their 1337zorzxzx food, than hearing some old fogey talk about you not being able to retain if you fail you 'O's. Food &gt; Mr Neo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, by paying 58 fucking dollars to go to some five/four/three/two/one hotel and eat the horrijible food they prepare, we get a teddy bear, a lucky draw ticket and lastly, you get to join the liekomgwtfbbqliekliek TPSS Aluminia!1! Like anyone cares. Of course, people were taking photos. I had some photos, taken, too. But I have none with me right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, graduation night pretty much sucked, but I did enjoy myself. Suck + enjoy = not so bad. Took a cab home with Kingston, with him going to Pasir Ris park to thon. Bye bye money.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-4788105690341026216?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/4788105690341026216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=4788105690341026216&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/4788105690341026216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/4788105690341026216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/11/graduation-night.html' title='Graduation night.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-5087831367196154874</id><published>2006-11-18T09:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-18T09:40:46.891+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Safety matches?</title><content type='html'>Yes. After the 1337zorzxz history paper, Kingston and I played with matches. Ironically, the matches have the label "Safety Matches" printed on the box. Of course, if matches are safe, they won't be called matches, right? So Kingston and I took a video on how "safe" these matches are.&lt;br /&gt;*Credits to Nick for buying the "Safety Matches".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OLi7NUxbkoo"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OLi7NUxbkoo" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-5087831367196154874?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/5087831367196154874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=5087831367196154874&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5087831367196154874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5087831367196154874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/11/safety-matches.html' title='Safety matches?'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-5330267938932890284</id><published>2006-11-15T20:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T20:11:09.311+08:00</updated><title type='text'>PS3 (This isn't a political post)</title><content type='html'>Yes, the long anticipated PS3 is out in Singapore. The government isn't helping with the sales, though, with the recent hike in the GST. For those that don't know or don't even bother reading the news, the current GST is 7%. Yes, you read it right. It's 7%, not 6,5,4,3,2,1%. The government will produce some budget report or whatever in February, and I'll bet the report will contain some shit involving the building of some infrastructure for the old fogies, cause, Singapore has an aging population (correct me if I'm wrong) and there is a high dependency rate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the hike, I really worry when will I find a job. Really. I know I'm like 16, but I have a right to work, right? I need to buy my shit, when my parents disapprove of most of the things I buy. And yay, 'O' Levels are ending for me in like 5 more days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the PS3 costing at least 4 digits, I really have doubts of getting it before I enter Poly. Oh well. *Note: Kingston is addicted to Final Fantasy XII. Don't know why.*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-5330267938932890284?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/5330267938932890284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=5330267938932890284&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5330267938932890284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/5330267938932890284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/11/ps3-this-isnt-political-post.html' title='PS3 (This isn&apos;t a political post)'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-116299600262751527</id><published>2006-11-08T22:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:13.463+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The 'O' Levels</title><content type='html'>Yes, I'm having my 'O' Levels now. Yes, the pressure is getting to me. I've started picking up my books after like an eternity, and I've started studying. Yes, I know, it's a rare phenomenon. And no, don't go tagging on my tagboard asking for four numbers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-116299600262751527?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/116299600262751527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=116299600262751527&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/116299600262751527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/116299600262751527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/11/o-levels.html' title='The &apos;O&apos; Levels'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-116125929800192564</id><published>2006-10-19T19:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:13.390+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My 'O' Level Science practical and Death Note.</title><content type='html'>Had my practical today. Things went pretty well compared to the prelims, where I had to redo the experiement a second time. Time spent in the holding room was better compared to the the prelims, where I did nothing at all. I read a book ok? A BOOK!1!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, we went to watch Death Note. Was pretty good, considering the fact that Misa Misa is introduced in this episode. Ming Han refers her as Japan porn, though I'm not sure why. Then there's this battle between two genius, where they battle each other to see who is better. Finally, I noticed something in the show. Genius' loves to eat sweet stuff and original flavoured chips. Maybe I should start eating original flavour chips to show that I'm a genius. The show put one leh. Not my fault. =(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-116125929800192564?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/116125929800192564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=116125929800192564&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/116125929800192564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/116125929800192564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/10/my-o-level-science-practical-and-death.html' title='My &apos;O&apos; Level Science practical and Death Note.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-116079219224537122</id><published>2006-10-14T10:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:13.315+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Youtube</title><content type='html'>Been hanging around Youtube for the past few days, cause I'm obviously bored to my pants. So, while surfing for some good nice vids, I found some reeally good vids. Hilarious or they are simply awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One good video is made by Smosh, which is about two teenagers making some relaly funny video clips. A good one is "The best car EVER".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lJsjJVPeEOo"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lJsjJVPeEOo" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another one is Borat. It shows one man going around America doing some really funny shit. This one I'm showing you is about Cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WkE9-RYqkk0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WkE9-RYqkk0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last one is about soccer. Yes. About some superb saves by goalkeepers. Apparently, the first keeper you see in the video did not do any spectecular saves. I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bdDd3Zx38PU"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bdDd3Zx38PU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oliver Kahn? Dida? Marcos? Edwin Van Der Sar? Gianluigi Buffon? Jens Lehmann? NO! Casillas ftw!1!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-116079219224537122?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/116079219224537122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=116079219224537122&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/116079219224537122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/116079219224537122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/10/youtube.html' title='Youtube'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-116074106648532737</id><published>2006-10-13T19:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:13.238+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate 'O' Levels.</title><content type='html'>I hate 'O' Levels. For no particular reason. Ok. Fine. For two reasons only.&lt;br /&gt;1.  Death Note is releasing soon.&lt;br /&gt;2: Dead or Alive is just a few days away from my 'O' Levels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, having taken your 'O's is like having an extra ball, apart from the PSLE. And the 'O' Level shit is making people getting uptight over trivial matters, like "Liek OMG!! My L1R5 get 8 marks!! So little!! Now I cannot go VJC lerzxzxzxzxzxz!!" and proceeds to sob like a S.O.A.B. How ah? My L1R5 I think almost 30. I any JC shit also cannot go, nuuuuu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, watched Stay Alive today. About some people playing a video game, and if they die in the game, they will die the way they die in the game. Not creepy at all, as a good Gameshark/Codebreaker cheat will see you all the way through the game. And it really sucks to have a bunch of people talking AUDIBLY when watching a movie. I don't pay $8.50 to hear people talk about the movie. I hope you bitches die. Yes, I said die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-116074106648532737?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/116074106648532737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=116074106648532737&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/116074106648532737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/116074106648532737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-hate-o-levels.html' title='I hate &apos;O&apos; Levels.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115989039668056190</id><published>2006-10-03T23:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:13.167+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Being emo.</title><content type='html'>Actually, I'm thinking of doing an emo post. But then, by doing lots of emo posts, I might be an emo kid myself so.. I shan't write anything emo. Maybe if I write many many emo posts, I might cut myself and post the pictures labeling "YeH! I cUt MySeLf! I aRe EmO kIdZxZxZ"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, Qi Han. It's good to have dreams. But try to have dreams that are within your reach. And that doesn't give you the reason to act all emo over it and go 1337 on me. Anymore 1337 from you and I'm prepared to curse you into oblivion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And seriously. 'O' Levels are "liek omg" approaching and I'm still slacking. Someone wake me up till September ends. Oh shit. September ended already. Damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the quote of the day "Marriage is a certificate for legal sex anytime, without the guardians of law intefering". "Liek omg", that's so 00uber cool. Goodbye, betches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115989039668056190?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115989039668056190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115989039668056190&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115989039668056190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115989039668056190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/10/being-emo.html' title='Being emo.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115946007775934665</id><published>2006-09-28T23:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:13.097+08:00</updated><title type='text'>1337.</title><content type='html'>Qi Han has broke all boundaries today. Congratulations, Qi Han. You have managed to break the record of saying 1337 or "screwed up" unnecessarily for many, many times. You have managed to break the 24 hour limit, 12 hour limit, 6 hour limit, 3 hour limit and the one and a half hour limit. And no, you do not get a prize for saying it over and over again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115946007775934665?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115946007775934665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115946007775934665&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115946007775934665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115946007775934665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/09/1337.html' title='1337.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115936490881444283</id><published>2006-09-27T21:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:13.013+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prelims.</title><content type='html'>Prelims are finally over, and to think I did not spend more than an hour for each subject. Considering the fact that I want to go to Junior College being the insocialite I am, I think I can barely make it through Serangoon Junior College. So, now I'm crossing my fingers hoping that I would pass my prelims with flying colours (fat hope) but then, a part of me doesn't want to go JC, a part of me wants to go JC. I want to work, so I can earn enough to buy a Playstation 3 when it is released. Please give me your opinions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115936490881444283?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115936490881444283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115936490881444283&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115936490881444283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115936490881444283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/09/prelims.html' title='Prelims.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115906959186430642</id><published>2006-09-24T11:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:12.887+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Woot.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="border: 1px solid #cccccc; background-color: white; width: 115px; text-align: center; padding: 0 0 10px 0;"&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.flickr.com/23/25822676_789bf55448_t.jpg" style="border:0;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;span style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;My &lt;a href="http://blueundies.blogspot.com"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt; is worth &lt;b&gt;$1,000,000.00&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.business-opportunities.biz/projects/how-much-is-your-blog-worth/"&gt;How much is your blog worth?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.technorati.com/" style="border: 0px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://technorati.com/pix/tech-logo-embed.gif" style="border: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115906959186430642?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115906959186430642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115906959186430642&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115906959186430642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115906959186430642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/09/woot.html' title='Woot.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115832228481179306</id><published>2006-09-15T20:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:12.816+08:00</updated><title type='text'>How summarise all of the female sex erratic behaviours.</title><content type='html'>Yes, I, the self-proclaimed megafather, decided to share with all of you readers, about the mysterious (IMO) behaviours of females with just one sentence. Yes, being the gosu me, it's just gonna be summarised in one, fucking sentence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's one sentence. Goes to show how gosu I am. Really. Thrust me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As qouted by James Poh aka the self-proclaimed megafather, "Every erratic behaviour shown by females is due to PMS."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though as much as I want to write more, I'm having my prelims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. For some reason, some secondary two students looked down on Melvin's viper. Damn you idiots. Lothar's edge is the "best" escape mechanism if the opposing team does not have wards/gem/necromicon/any truesight shit. Don't look down on my friend, else I'm gonna pawn your ass with him (hopefully).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115832228481179306?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115832228481179306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115832228481179306&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115832228481179306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115832228481179306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/09/how-summarise-all-of-female-sex.html' title='How summarise all of the female sex erratic behaviours.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115798755279079412</id><published>2006-09-11T23:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:12.742+08:00</updated><title type='text'>R.O.S.E</title><content type='html'>"Go this webbie dl rose." was what Melvin told me. I clicked on the stupid link, and it brought me to a Rose private server. Of course, I was enthusiastic about it, as private servers mean more exp, better drops than the normal server AND most important of all, it's free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, and throughout the holidays, I've been waking up at early hours, trying to level faster than Melvin. Within 4 days, I've managed to level till 53, and I'm already fucking sick of pressing f2 (meat- heals), f3 (stupid leap attack), f4 (simi kuku heavy attack), f5 (orange juice - replenishes mp) and f8 (gather).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ming Han has given us strict orders, not to let Qi Han know we are playing R.O.S.E, as it would be disastrous. Unfortunately, he found out and he asked how long it takes to download it. Well, he said he will chiong after the 'O' Levels, and I seriously doubt that he can chase up to me, Ming Han and Melvin. Maybe to stop him from leveling, I'll just buy many many charms and many many vital jams, stop him from leveling. I know, I'm evil. It's irritating to see him type "sianx" or "lolx" for no reason at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, everyone, please tag at my tagboard with a &lt;33 scarab. They are ownage ok? Ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115798755279079412?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115798755279079412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115798755279079412&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115798755279079412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115798755279079412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/09/rose.html' title='R.O.S.E'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115729147272745052</id><published>2006-09-03T21:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:12.655+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate SquareEnix</title><content type='html'>I HATE YOU SQUARENIX! WHY YOU RELEASE FINAL FANTASY 13 IN PLAYSTATION 3? NUU, YOU NUBCAKES, IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE A PLAYSTATION 2 PRODUCTION! WHY YOU PRODUCERS, MUST TORTURE FINAL FANTASY FANATICS SO BADLY? I LOOK AT THE GRAPHICS I FEEL LIKE CRYING. MAKES IT TOTALLY POINTLESS TO BUY FINAL FANTASY 12, GODDAMMIT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I said everything in jest. Makes it all the while buying Playstation 3. Get yours at a retailer nearby at the end of the year. Yes, make sure your parents cry when you get the machine. I'm pretty sure it's gonna cost 'em a thousand plus bucks. It doesn't really affect me much, whether if people are gonna get Final Fantasy 12. As long I get my Playstation 3, I don't fucking care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ffinsider.net/image.php?loc=/ff12/ss/7.jpg"&gt;Here's&lt;/a&gt; a screenshot of the battle system for Final Fantasy 12, while &lt;a href="http://www.finalfantasy13.org/screenshots/trailer/0066.jpg"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; is for Final Fantasy 13. Tell me which is better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115729147272745052?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115729147272745052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115729147272745052&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115729147272745052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115729147272745052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-hate-squareenix.html' title='I hate SquareEnix'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115720973853524312</id><published>2006-09-02T22:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:12.585+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck secondary school chemistry.</title><content type='html'>Was blog-hopping due to boredom, obviously. I happened to chance upon my primary school friend's blog, which showed something about alkalic metals in contact with H2O. After watching the videos, I must agree that the videos the school shows suck and should not even be classified under boring. They should be classified under "Hell, I'm not gonna look at that video even if you're to pay me watching it." I'm gonna show you what happens, when rubidium and caesium in a tub of water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the video, as said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/m55kgyApYrY"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/m55kgyApYrY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owned.&lt;br /&gt;Note: That guy said something about Frankium. Try dropping 2 grams of it in the bath tub, WOOT.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115720973853524312?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115720973853524312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115720973853524312&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115720973853524312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115720973853524312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/09/fuck-secondary-school-chemistry.html' title='Fuck secondary school chemistry.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115703371730887690</id><published>2006-08-31T21:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:12.507+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Teacher's Day (Celebration)</title><content type='html'>Went back to my primary school, and walked around with Jun You. Had to stand the amount of senseless talk that came spouting out from his mouth, and I just kept my mouth shut. He's just like another Tay Qi Han, just that he is more likable then Tay Qi Han. He doesn't go "Cheebye smoking at toilet kena caught!" and showing the oh-so-cool sign of slapping his palm over his fist and smile, repeating "Wah sian, shag." over and over again or have that sibeh smelly cigarette smell. And he doesn't speak 1337 like it's nobody's business, but Qi Han does. Every now and then, he will say "Noobzor pawnzor." or just "Pawnzor" just for the sake of showing us that he knows 1337 talk. Oh wait, I'm getting carried away.  Lemme restrain myself first, before I continue on my primary school tour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The change I observed since I left school was tremendous. Walls are painted with kiddy shit. Even the mother tongue room looks so cosy. They have the time to paint the doors, but no time to paint the dirty walls. We walked around, and finally, saw Desmond and Chin Yee (NiGouLaShi) aka Nicholas. I've not seen them since ages, and I cannot. I repeat, cannot recognise them from the distance. And to think that I sat beside Desmond for almost half a year when I was in primary 6.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to find our 1337 teacher, who taught us English, Maths, Science and Art for two years. 4 subjects, same teacher, two years. We went to her class, and she was teaching primary 1 now. And the stupid class showed 5.5, when she is teaching primary 1. I got the shock of my life, when I saw how small the students are. Around 1 metres and 20 cm tall, one can mistake them for poles for leaning against or sitting on. These little &lt;s&gt;monsters&lt;/s&gt; angels ran out of class to go to the toilet, asking the teacher in advance. Aiseh. After a while, Nicholas had to go, and the three of us just loitered around in school, walking around and reminscing old times. Not that we had many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we parted ways, and I went home to play the UbzorGosu 1337 game, Over the Hedge. &lt;s&gt;No&lt;/s&gt; Thanks, Bernice, for telling me to how to the &lt;--- line. I'm so gonna abuse it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115703371730887690?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115703371730887690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115703371730887690&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115703371730887690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115703371730887690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/08/teachers-day-celebration.html' title='Teacher&apos;s Day (Celebration)'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115582881079441975</id><published>2006-08-17T23:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:12.433+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The relationship between armpit hair and boybands.</title><content type='html'>Yes, after the watching the 183 club MTV "I'm so hot!", I found out the reason why 5566 and 183 club is so successful, unlike F4. Fools might be thinking, "Nabeh, all the people handsome. Why 183 club and 5566 last longer than F4? Cheebye!" Have no fear, James the Great is gonna tell you the reasons, why F4 wasn't as successful as 5566 and 183 club. (I'm sick and tired of typing 5566 and 183 club. Fuck.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's because, F4 members did not have much or does not even have.. ARMPIT HAIR!! Apparently, Jerry Yen shaved his off, which contributed to the downfall of F4. I'm not saying that Jerry Yen's armpit hair was what kept the F4 going, nor his armpit hair led to the downfall of F4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, as I was saying, armpit hair is very important for boybands. Look at energy. They didn't reveal their armpit hair when they were shooting their MTV for their songs. Not that I noticed, anyway. Toro left the group first, maybe because he had an issue with revealing his armpit hair. Then, Energy disbanded. You know why? Cause they didn't want to reveal their armpit hair. Fans were disappointed, the armpit hair they desired wasn't shown. They decided to abandon Energy, and went for 5566 and 183 club, which fed their desire of ARMPIT HAIRS!! Alright~.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If don't believe me, 5566 and 183 club shows their armpit hair freely and they do it without shame. An example of them showing their armpit hair shamelessly can found in the MTV Cest'si Cest'si bon for 5566 and I'm so Hot! by 183 club. and also, Mayday also has armpit hair. Though they don't show it so oftenly, they show it during concerts when they take off their shirts and show it to the crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After finding out the secrets to these boybands' success, I've decided to share them with you people free of charge! I'm gonna give you a few simple steps, and if you follow the above, you are on your way to stardom!&lt;br /&gt;5 easy steps to have a successful boy/girlband career:&lt;br /&gt;1: Check whether your armpit got hair anot.&lt;br /&gt;2: If you have no hair or very little hair in your armpits, read step 3. If you got alot, then you are already on your way to boyband stardom.&lt;br /&gt;3: Go to the barber shop and all take the hair that has been cut.&lt;br /&gt;4: Grab a glue, and glue all the hair on your armpit like it's nobody's business. Remember, THE HAIRIER THE BETTER!1!&lt;br /&gt;5: Taadaa!! You can be more famous then 5566 and 183 club if you have more armpit hair then them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: You must show the armpit hair frequently in your MTVs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No offence to the boybands, just that the armpit hair inspired me to blog again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115582881079441975?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115582881079441975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115582881079441975&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115582881079441975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115582881079441975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/08/relationship-between-armpit-hair-and.html' title='The relationship between armpit hair and boybands.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115478901201022984</id><published>2006-08-05T22:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:12.300+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The concert.</title><content type='html'>Yes. After two years, it's finally the Intempo 8, which I went, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;againg.&lt;/span&gt; Well, according to Meowvin, the secondary 1's are playing this year, unlike the last intempo, which the sec 1's just went there and watch their seniors play. Not bad, considering the fact that they might gain more experience for their next intempo. The concert was fine, except for a few out-of-tunes, it still sounded pretty ok. Oh, the cafeteria at Victoria Concert Hall sells drinks at an extremely exorbitant rate. A can of chrysanthemum tea costs me &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;2, fucking, dollars.&lt;/span&gt; Imba. And the Goldilocks was like, very bad. Very, very, bad. They got Wei Jie to play as &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;teh pawnzor sibei kawaii &lt;/span&gt;Goldilocks. When they exited the stage, people were shouting "Wei Jie 我爱你！！" Lawless. Wei Jie in Goldilocks also want.  After the concert, Melvin went into backstage to talk to the band people. Ming Han was so hungry that he asked Myra Ho whether the curry puff can take anot. We sat down at one corner and Ming Han ate his curry puff happily. But his happiness did not last for long, as the curry puff was the potato one. He got so shagged, and asked anyone he knew whether they anot. Then we heard crying, and I forgot who said, "Go back school tio kan liao." And I'm very sure that those are not tears of joy. Very sure. Surprisingly, Ming Han suddenly bit into his next curry puff and to his joy, it was the sardine one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We waited for a long time for Melvin to come out, and boy, he sure took a long time. We walked to Suntec City, to meet Kingston. We went through the god damn City Link and back again, cause Esther wants to look at the fireworks. We went to Marina Square to find a place to eat, but every was full. Decisions to return to Tampines were made hastily, due to fatigue and hunger. And boy, it sure was fun walking through the City Link again. Yes, fun. Fuck. We went to Long Johns to have dinner, and Tricia met Melvin there. Kingston found his long-lost Titanic and got emo all over it. Being emo on Jovene's table sure sucked. He got chased off and he came to our table. Seeing Melvin and Tricia talking so happily, he wanted us to chase him off. So I chased him off, and he went over to Melvin's table. He sat there, told them he got chased off by us, they gave him a few looks, and Kingston left the table. Y0u 4r3 73h 0wn3d.  On the way home,  we taught Jun Li how to jio Angeline, teaching him the secrets of Melvin's jio-ing method. He can profess that his new-found love to someone else, then suddenly ask Angeline. She will be like "OMGWTFBBQLIKELIKEWTFISHAPPENINGOHMYLARDSHISMOTHERARETEHTHROLLWORLARDS!!"&lt;br /&gt;and accept his proposal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeh. Qi Han and Jun Yuan got thrashed by Chen Song and his friend, with their total kills amounting to 20++ to 0 deaths. 0wn3d.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115478901201022984?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115478901201022984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115478901201022984&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115478901201022984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115478901201022984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/08/concert.html' title='The concert.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115400881953895830</id><published>2006-07-27T21:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:12.204+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Matharfarkar.</title><content type='html'>The world is going crazy. Jun Yuan actually pleaded to have another chance to win us. We are going to win them again. I don't care how many times I die, I just want to win. Oh lards, give me the strength to win.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115400881953895830?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115400881953895830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115400881953895830&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115400881953895830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115400881953895830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/07/matharfarkar.html' title='Matharfarkar.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115358213623509080</id><published>2006-07-22T23:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:12.120+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lan at Asteroid.</title><content type='html'>Well, things went pretty well today. We won Jun Yuan, Moses and Daryl with our identities concealed. We are very happy that we won, and we are not sorry at all that if it hurt-ed one bit of their pride to lose to us. Although I am quite pissed that Qi Han ks-ed most of my kills, it doesn't matter. We still won, no matter what way they put it. God did not forsake our prayers, and for every prayer to succeed, there must always be a sacrifice. My money is the sacrifice today cause I have to treat them "Lim Koh Pee".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I shall state who did the best in something in the DotA match today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daryl : The most "hum ji" kia, everytime hug tower. Not everytime la, but hug until like, want gang him also hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jun Yuan : Did not play very well today. Must've been off-form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moses : Pretty strong, bringing him down was difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qi Han : The biggest kser of the day. Nothing much to be said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melvin : On-form today, also ks-ed quite abit. I give him second best kser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kingston : The chiongster. And the sponsorer. He sponsored me Boots of Travel recipe. I therefore name him the best farmer of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James : Saviour of many of teamates and mainly responsible of the deaths of others. Enemy chasing up to you? I swap. You want to run away? I swap also. Die die also kena tok by my team. I saved many a ass with my trusty magic missle and netherswap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, we still win. =D No maphack ftw.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115358213623509080?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115358213623509080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115358213623509080&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115358213623509080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115358213623509080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/07/lan-at-asteroid.html' title='Lan at Asteroid.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115340488569194831</id><published>2006-07-20T22:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:12.044+08:00</updated><title type='text'>God save us this Saturday.</title><content type='html'>Saturday is the big day, and our team have not been doing much. Kingston, Melvin and I are trying very hard in the games to get the teamwork required, but it to no avail. We managed to achieve just that teeny weeny bit, and it's gone. Poof. Like a puff smoke, disappearing into thin air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If those people thinks that we are fighting the E5s, they are so wrong. We are challenging Moses' clan, which has so much pawnzor players that it pains me so much just to even describe them. I don't care how are we gonna win them. We just want to win. Gone are the days we have so much time to play a fool online. Gone are the days where I can enter a  game blabbering "Sali po Sali kau". Gone are the days, when I enter a game and and exit it with laughter. We are going to win Moses. I don't care. We are gonna win them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115340488569194831?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115340488569194831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115340488569194831&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115340488569194831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115340488569194831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/07/god-save-us-this-saturday.html' title='God save us this Saturday.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115253709025147962</id><published>2006-07-10T20:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:11.952+08:00</updated><title type='text'>World cup.</title><content type='html'>Ok. Today was Monday, where France lost to Italy in penalty kicks. Lawless. The Gods in Tampenis (Tampines) were angry, and decided that it should rain the whole morning. The same thing happened for Portugal, when France decided that it's time for the Portuguese to go home. I told my tuition teacher, aka relatives, and they said rubbish and insisted that I continue eating my spaghetti. Apparently, her son is very upset, because Brazil is out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I found out, from most of the female friends I have, they watch the world cup, just to see the hunks and cuteys. LAWLESS I TELL YOU, LAWLESS. I know females who drool over Kaka, Ronaldo, Beckham and many many more. The motive of the World Cup is to uh. Let's see. I don't know. Maybe provide betting opportunities? Maybe. I don't know. I cannot believe it when my mom bought $40 dollars for France to win and bought a pathetic amount of $10 for Italy. I had hoped for France to win, but had a gut feeling that Italy will win. My mom lost $45, cause I told her I want to buy $5 on Italy to win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, screw the World Cup. I'm gonna create the Tampenis (Tampines) cup. Nabeh, Melvin, you had better bring the goddamn soccer ball to school, else I'm gonna chop off one of your ball, and use it as a ball. How creative of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I got the class photos today, cause Mr Singh had a tooth removed, and he cannot talk much. =\ Sad. And Kingston asked me to scan and send him the photos, cause he did not buy any. Had to anyways, he is Team LovE's Manager cum Leader. Or so Melvin and I think. And thinking about the DotA match on Friday, it's totally PAWNZOR. 5v5, 4E6 versus 4E5. I can predict the outcome, even though we have not even started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jun Yuan, Ivan, Wei Dong, Xiao Jon, Chen Chuan ( or maybe someone else?) in the 4E5 team. THEY ALREADY HAVE 2 KARNINARH PAWNZOR PLAYERS WE 4E6 PLAY LAN CHIAW? Let's proceed on to their.. DotA background.&lt;br /&gt;Jun Yuan, teh pawnzor. Chances of being killed by my team, very slim.&lt;br /&gt;Ivan, TEH UBZORPAWNZOR. Chances of him killing us, very high.&lt;br /&gt;Wei Dong, the hearthrob (maybe) of the group. Killing him, maybe.&lt;br /&gt;Xiao Jon, the uh. small? Qi Han said he ain't bad, but Kingston says he is very bad. Killing him, also maybe la.&lt;br /&gt;Chen Chuan (or others). Again, Qi Han say he also not bad. Pawnt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now on to 4E6, where we have the least hopeful players are gathered there.&lt;br /&gt;Kingston (Leader of team LovE, with the name [LovE]-BeGiNs-) , Melvin ( Member of LovE team, with the name of [LovE]-DeVeLoPs-), Ming Han, Qi Han and Me ( Last member of LovE team, with the name of [LovE]-EnDs-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. DotA skills analysis.&lt;br /&gt;Kingston, good overall player, might be able to keep on pawning if he is on form. Chances of dying and killing, high overall.&lt;br /&gt;Melvin, the shorty of the group, which loves to use Viper. Can really pawn well if he is on form, but the lack of performance this few weeks is really disappointing. WTF HAPPENED TO YOU MEL??&lt;br /&gt;Ming Han, his use of Morphling has far exceeded expectations. Might be able to kill some, and hopefully, don't die. =D&lt;br /&gt;James, the noobest of teh group. Expect him to be the feeder. Has NEVER killed anyone before. Yes, thrust me.&lt;br /&gt;Qi Han, teh pawnzorest player in the group. With him in the group, our chances of winning is higher. OH YEA BABY. WHO WAS THE ONE WHO DECIDED TO USE SVEN AND CHIONG A GROUP OF THREE HEROES WHEN WE HAVE ONLY TWO ON THAT LANE. HIM. Pawnt. He said he and Jun Li, who fed like a mad little fuck last Friday, got Holy Shit. Right. Then I level 1 can chiong Roshan and tower and hold position in fountain, no need to be afraid of the fountain. Lawless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok Kingston, I'll upload you the pictures some other time. Remember, wish us all the luck on Friday. We need it. *Cross fingers.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinda long post eh? This is repayment for not updating regularly. Remember, James is teh ubzorfeedzor. Any E5 students, tell this to the people mentioned above and say Qi Han is teh pro-est, James is teh noobest. Lawless. Thrust me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115253709025147962?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115253709025147962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115253709025147962&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115253709025147962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115253709025147962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/07/world-cup.html' title='World cup.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115098580532606396</id><published>2006-06-22T21:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:11.881+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The end of my June Holidays.</title><content type='html'>To any teachers in Tampines Secondary and teaching me, I'm sad to admit that I've dedicated my holidays into having fun, instead of revising. Sorry to break the hearts of teachers out there. Most of my time is spent on Tower Defence, some other dumb shit maps, and a little DotA. A little means a little, not too much. Playing with people online, like Ming Han, Melvin and Kingston.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115098580532606396?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115098580532606396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115098580532606396&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115098580532606396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115098580532606396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/06/end-of-my-june-holidays.html' title='The end of my June Holidays.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-115038063170287012</id><published>2006-06-15T21:23:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:11.812+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday.</title><content type='html'>Well, today, Ming Han, Kingston, Melvin and me skipped the goddamn english aka england seminar. Well, it's not that we did not even intend to go, it's just that.. after our lunch, it was so late that when we reached there, we would miss a whole lot of tosh. So, why bother? After our lunch, we alighted at Simei, and went to play LAN there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's such a rip-off, 2.50 an hour. But, the computers there are teh pawnage. So, kinda worth it. If Qi Han found out that we played LAN never tell him, he confirm say we pang sehz him, and shay we nort fwens enurff. Sho do mwe a fabour and donch twell him okkays? Muarcks. Lol. Just don't tell him la. We played -apemsp, which simply means all pick, easy mode, shuffle players. The shuffle players, just moved me and Kingston from the Scourge to the Sentinel. Rofl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a hard time thinking, use what. Until Kingston took the "zomgwtfbbqlikelikeubozorpawnzor" Nehnehdrake, aka Viper, I took the legengdawy night stalker, Baranar. And the ironic thing is that, both Melvin and Ming Han took heroes from the Sentinel. Makes it so much simple. No need -apsp. Just -em steady liaws.  And,  we won. So, I WIN! I WIN! I WIN! I mean, WE WIN! WE WIN! WE WIN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went to popular to gay about and reminsced about our old times. Then we went to the arcade and played abit of racing, watch other people play and just gayed about. And toilet trips aren't that enjoyable, with Ming Han's "blowjob". After that we went to Burger King, and had our dinner there. And I told Melvin that we must eat Burger King tomorrow again, cause we watching Garfield tomorrow. He gave me that -.- after I told him, there is no offer for that stupid meal, even though we are watching Garfield tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, we talked and talked and talked and went to Pet Safari. I saw "zomwtfbbqlikelike" so huge in size hamster. I'm not sure about it, since it has long ears, but the tank got put hamster leh. So must be hamster. Then we walked around, and found.. DOGS. They are cute. Especially one dog, where no one will buy. The ear is like, tattered. The muzzle of the dog has wounds, or those things that look like what-you-call-it, wounds? It looks so god damn sad. Then there's this Siberian Husky, commonly known as the red alert soviet dog. It has the ability to hunt down spies and eliminate infantry units with just one attack. Then we found a Austrailian something, which was evidently too bored, decided to suck itself off. It was like grabbing it's penis, like tugging at it. The penis, then the tail, then the penis again. I took a video of it, but I'm too lazy to upload it. Fuck it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh eh eh, I think I want to change my link leh. Give me your opinions can? http://blueunnerwear.blogspot.com sounds better rightz? Give me your comments on my tagboard can norts? Kplsthx.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-115038063170287012?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/115038063170287012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=115038063170287012&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115038063170287012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/115038063170287012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/06/holiday.html' title='Holiday.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114942898972155923</id><published>2006-06-04T21:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:11.676+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The MrBrown show.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://http://media.libsyn.com/media/mb/tmbs-060602-ex_ns_men_3.mp3"&gt;This&lt;/a&gt; is so god damn funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, on Thursday. Screw Kingston, laughed so loud when I showed him &lt;a href="http://www.rambotan.com/?p=4"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; post. Until Mrs Abbas come over and read. And devised a killing method, that is so god damn brutal. She is going to kill us, by making us die, by laughing at funny contents. Boy, that sure is evil. (The link for the unnerwear post is &lt;a href="http://http://www.kennysia.com/archives/2005/08/babes_of_malays.php"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114942898972155923?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114942898972155923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114942898972155923&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114942898972155923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114942898972155923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/06/mrbrown-show.html' title='The MrBrown show.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114761466324664347</id><published>2006-05-14T21:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:11.604+08:00</updated><title type='text'>First post in May.</title><content type='html'>Since a long time I've logged into my blogger account. I admit, I haven't been studying, but at least I study a little bit la ok? It's such a busy month, when I look at it now. General Elections, the ever rubbishy mid-year exams and my chinese 'O' Levels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it's DotA after every exam, to give myself a well-deserved break. Not to mention that I've been losing religiously to my friends, I'm starting to state that I am a pinoy. There was this game, somewhere around yesterday, in the night, and it all started out with Kingston's idea of 3v3. I joined Kingston's and Melvin's team, even though I'm such a noob, not forgetting I'm a feeder. =( Then there's this Romanian, who obviously can read english, join a Singapore game. Betch. I shall state why he sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1: He lost to me. (I aM pInOy NoRhS!1!)&lt;br /&gt;2: I fucking pawned him twice, almost double killed, but I was digging a particularly huge piece of nose shit from my nose.&lt;br /&gt;3: I was clicking only.&lt;br /&gt;4: He has lots of excuses.&lt;br /&gt;5: Kept saying that Kingston is a chicken, always gangbang but don't dare to solo him.&lt;br /&gt;6: Gave lots of excuses for his death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This reasons, I believe is sufficient enough to tell you people out there that he is a noob. We even had time, to even go Roshan hunting. Poor Roshan, kena my Shackle-Hex-Serpent Ward combo, allowing Kingston and Melvin to be able to rape Roshan without much difficulties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really pity his teammate. God bless you. As for that Romanian, may God blast you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114761466324664347?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114761466324664347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114761466324664347&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114761466324664347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114761466324664347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/05/first-post-in-may.html' title='First post in May.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114588506560865057</id><published>2006-04-24T20:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:11.531+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy.</title><content type='html'>I haven't been updating for quite some time, and my last post caused quite an uproar, judging from the comments on my tagboard. Not really an uproar la, but 3 comments is really quite alot, comapared to others. Well, I've been doing nothing recently, except play DotA with Ming Han and Kingston. And activities that opened my eyes to the big world out there. I found out that Hansel and Gretel really exists. No, don't give me that "What-a-liar" look. EH KARNINARH IT'S TRUE OK. EuU mUsT bElIbBeE mE dE nOrHsSsZzZxXx!1! Due to the Temasek Regetta, I have uncovered that Hansel and Gretel really exists, except that the evil witch is dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You ask me about Hansel and Gretel? I tell you that they can be found in Tampines Secondary School. Hansel can be found easily, but for Gretel, heh. You need more than name tags to help you. Gah. Exams are close. I might not be blogging frequently. I want to pass de horhs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.s: Go this &lt;a href="http://gohbx.blogspot.com"&gt;blog&lt;/a&gt;, it'll freak you out. Eh, Cleone intro me de horhs. Oh ya. You need a vomit bag while reading his blog. Trust me. I shall adapt one method of his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signing off,&lt;br /&gt;Xia0 James. (Zomgwtfbbq)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114588506560865057?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114588506560865057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114588506560865057&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114588506560865057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114588506560865057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/04/holy.html' title='Holy.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114545377595437152</id><published>2006-04-19T21:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:11.462+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Females.</title><content type='html'>Honestly, I think it's bullshit that females get to throw their temper around every 28 days. You have this what-is-it called syndrome, which is only exclusive to females only. Oh, it's premenstrual syndrome. You think that you can give birth, VERY GREAT LA? As my biology teacher says, "Women are noble creatures." or whatever bullshit. Just that we have a kuku chiaw dangling, doesn't mean that we are not noble ok. No men, no babies. We also determine the sex of the baby ok? Doesn't mean that you have blood dribbling out of your vagina once every 28 days, you can throw your temper about. Karninarh. I had enough if my mother throwing her temper every now and then. Wonder if I have something dribbling from my penis every 28 days, can I anyhow also can throw temper?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114545377595437152?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114545377595437152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114545377595437152&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114545377595437152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114545377595437152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/04/females.html' title='Females.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114528217670149252</id><published>2006-04-17T21:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:11.392+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday, one of the bullshitest days.</title><content type='html'>It's been one day, since Jesus has been fucking revived or whatever. And for the next year, there will be this public holiday, where he has his last supper and die, and get revived two days after he fucking dies, again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, back in school. Every-fucking-Monday, I have to report to Mr Au Yong, for TAF, or rather, TFC members. It makes no difference. It doesn't make you feel more privileged. We have to run four damn rounds round the whole school, which is more than 2.4km.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this activity, it's geography. I usually take my time, walk past the secondary two classes, change, and move back to class. By the time I step into class, I'm about one period late. Then it's biology, and then english. Then it's recess, two periods of maths, chemistry and then the EVER boring chinese. After this bullshit lessons, I go back home, to play abit of DotA with Ming Han, who pawns my head everytime, but sometimes I win. EH I KARNINARH WIN MING HAN BEFORE OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only good thing about Mondays are that they don't have infocus, for us F&amp;amp;N students. So we get to go home early, and rest for abit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the fucking maphack doesn't work. SOMEONE SEND ME CAN? I DONCH WANT TO BE BACKSTABBED LAH.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114528217670149252?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114528217670149252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114528217670149252&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114528217670149252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114528217670149252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/04/monday-one-of-bullshitest-days.html' title='Monday, one of the bullshitest days.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114502310764625969</id><published>2006-04-14T21:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:11.319+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Friday.</title><content type='html'>Merry Good Friday. Or at least, approach a stranger and say "Karninarh! Jesus revive today leh!" And that stranger will just give you a "Are you crazy" look or just ignore you. But, I don't see the happiness in seeing someone die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't see the thing worth celebrating in someone's death. If we had to celebrate someone's death everytime, there won't be school. I can see that, one day after the other, we open bottles of champagne and splash it over one another and hearing shrieks of joy. I would most probably sit in a corner and shake my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And karninarh, imagine. Every year, Singapore celebrates Good Friday. It simply means every year, when we have Good Friday, Jesus will be forced to have the "Last Supper" or whatever supper shit with his family or people in heaven and then die today. Two days later, which is easter's day, the Almighty God, Jesus's father, sends a easter rabbit to plant coloured eggs of all sorts so that he Almighty Son will rise again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After doing this post, I've discovered something. If I see coloured eggs lying around my hometown, I'll just have to hatch it, like how Thomas Edison or whichever mad scientist who got famous for sitting on a egg. EH I ALSO CAN SIT ON EGG OK. HOW COME I NOT FAMOUS ARH?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate Good Friday. Makes me confuse Friday as Saturday. WHY MUST JESUS DIE ON A FRIDAY. CAN'T HE DIE ON A SATURDAY? THEN I WON'T BE CONFUSED. No offence to all catholics or christians out there, but Good Friday is just one day where people take a break from work and open a bottle of champagne and celebrate. Not where all races gather in churches and spray champagne at each other.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114502310764625969?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114502310764625969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114502310764625969&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114502310764625969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114502310764625969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/04/good-friday.html' title='Good Friday.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114484760034097901</id><published>2006-04-12T20:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:11.244+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cats.</title><content type='html'>Filming cats when they are climaxing is not the thing I would expect to see in the morning. On the way to Kingston's house, I saw one grumpy looking cat. But it was still wary of humans, so I decided not to di siao siao around with that cat. Later that cat got some "Xiang Mao eighteen strikes" I dunno what to do. So, I walked away, deciding that it's not worth my life over a grumpy cat. A cat has 9 lives, while a human has only one. So, bo bian, I must kill the cat 9 times, which I must like, die.. 8 more times. That's like asking some hotshot if I can cut off his balls/penis and sell it to someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I happily pranced on,  eating my sardine curry puff on my way to meet Kingston. If you're wondering, the Earth did not shake. Apparently, one James is not enough to make a crack in the middle of the pacific plate. So, there was no sound, no earth shaking stints. Then, I chanced a pair of cats, who were obviously having sex. Being the very love to di siao siao people person, I took a picture of them having sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/Image%28069%29.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/320/Image%28069%29.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After looking at this glamarous picture, I decided that a photo isn't enough. So I whipped out my mighty 3230, and took a video of this cats in action. Later people say this picture is photoshopped one, like that I how? Cannot! Here's the video. If you hear some munching sounds, it simply means that I am still eating my curry puff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/CI9v4TNkORw"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CI9v4TNkORw" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="600" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the cat looked at me, I stopped the video and ran. I was afraid that the cat might attack me. I met Kingston, and that ends the journey of the cats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh, cats moan like lions. Wah leowz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114484760034097901?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114484760034097901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114484760034097901&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114484760034097901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114484760034097901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/04/cats.html' title='Cats.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114431998877077432</id><published>2006-04-06T18:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:11.141+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Internetless.</title><content type='html'>Well, things just go so.. awkwardly this few days. When I have my fucking connection, my mind is in a blank, not knowing what to blog about. Then I write crap, thus chasing my loyal readers away from this fucking blog. But after when I reached home on Monday with my sister telling me that she was unable to connect to the net, I was like, zomg, what-the-fuck is happening. So I did not went online for like, 3 days, and that's like telling me that I have small balls. So I shall start on Tuesday, since Monday was particularly boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, photo-taking.  I believe, everyone loves phototaking, except for ugly faggots like me. But since this is my last year in Tampines Secondary, I look forward to be standing in the middle, since I'm the tallest fuck in class since Jun Li is out. Yes, phototaking. Kingston was so happy, that he could stand with the tall people in class, until the lady said "This year we want to try something new." And we all sat on the front row, not knowing what kinky poses the photographer likes. The first thught that crossed my mind was "Are we supposed to pose with our legs close together and hands on our knees?" or the leg over leg, ball crushing stunt. (Look at yearbook, to find out) Then she said "Cross your arms" and I was happy like fuck. (Look at last year's yearbook, soccer team.) No ball crushing stunts and no acting like a gay. First funshot, Melvin hugged me and I followed suit. Next photo was better. Ranjit was standing next to Kah Chuan and he said "John, you gotta pay me for standing next to me." We were laughing like mad fucks. Over for tuesday, go on to next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, someone got possessed. Mr Micheal Toh wouldn't allow us to take a look at the  victim. Karninarh. I just know that the ghost loves to scream. Ming Han, scream along with her. =D Over for today, maybe I'm posting another post tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114431998877077432?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114431998877077432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114431998877077432&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114431998877077432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114431998877077432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/04/internetless.html' title='Internetless.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114388590894413237</id><published>2006-04-01T17:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:11.067+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pavillion.</title><content type='html'>Recently, I visited pavillion to play DotA with the people in Singapore. I then realised that my skill was just lesser than a drop of water in the pacific ocean. So many thoughts were rushing through my mind when I played the game, thinking of what to buy, where will the enemy pop out from, etc etc. I don't memorise what items to buy, but instead, in the game I just ask around, what to buy and etc. I don't fucking beg my teamates to buy items for me or donate me money. I fucking earn the money myself by killing those motherfucking creeps from the opposing team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I went to pavillion with Kingston to play with other people in that area. It's like, people go there just to play DotA, or counter strike. First match, I got pawned like a mad little fuck. Second match I teamed with him, most of my kills were either ksed by the sentinel or by Mr Kingston Khoo, or the Ks man. It applied yesterday too. I played with Ming Han's brother, I could fucking kill him and when he got killed, the program screen wrote "The Sentinel has pawned Travex's head for an additonal 100+ gold." Imagine my horror, that the damage I slowly accumulated while hitting him had gone to some motherfucking program that FUCKING KSED MY PREY. Yes, it was still a scourge kill, BUT THE MONEY DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. Then during my last match, I kept harassing two heroes, which I soloed them. They then gangbanged me, thanks to the sniper who decided that my head would be his lunch. I had turned into their feed, thanks to the other teamates who decided to farm, and leave me, the only defender, alone. It was all thanks to me, that you managed to farm in peace, cause their teamates wished to get rid of me so they could farm in peace. They also reprimanded me, saying I was feeding them. What-the-fuck? If you harassed them with me in the first place, do you think we would become feed? NO YOU MOTHERFUCKER. You decided to continue farming, and told me to farm as well. Yes, I farmed. Then this motherfucking Leviathan aka tidehunter decided my monstrous balls for lunch, he harassed me. But me, being a no pushover, decided to fight back, and pawned his tiny balls which isn't big enough to satisfy me. His health was low, yet he kept pursuing me. Greed isn't good, you know? (Read this Kingston)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I returned home for a nice little match of DotA with my cousin. In the beginning, I was pawning his sorry ass, then he pawned mine. He said I improved, but lacked the basics. Alright, I learn. So I can kill you. Uh, no. Pawn you I mean. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you pricks are tired of my DotA ranting, so maybe I'll spare you people from my DotA ranting tomorrow. I'll blog about my england tuition teacher, show you dicks how &lt;s&gt;pervertic&lt;/s&gt;humorous he is. If I know how to post sound clips on my blog, I will show you. That's all for today, and remember. Support the authentic Masked Rider, which is me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114388590894413237?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114388590894413237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114388590894413237&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114388590894413237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114388590894413237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/04/pavillion.html' title='Pavillion.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114381463797663921</id><published>2006-03-31T21:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:10.999+08:00</updated><title type='text'>This post is here to diss you off.</title><content type='html'>In response to Ming Han's post, I agree with him to a certain extent, and disagree with him to a certain extent. I shall mention the disagree part first, cause it is really troubling me. I did not fucking wear a frilly skirt to play LAN on saturday, I was wearing a pair of green trousers. I know I act like a gay at times, that's because you infected me with that disease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the agree part. There's this guy in my class, who acts like he knows or has everything. Let's put DotAas an example la, huh? He only knows how to play 5.84c, which was like, how many years ago. 6.29 is the IN thing man, shit da 5.84c. You only know how to play Rikimaru the Stealth Assasin? In 5.84c? That's shit man, SHIT. Even I a total DotA shit noob knows how to pawn someone's pathetic asshole with this hero, with one hand digging my nose for shit and the other clicking at buttons. And I can pawn someone with this hero. Last week, me and Kingston was up to Ming Han, Melvin and you. I was hitting Ming Han with some gay hero I've never used in my entire life, and you suddenly said "Ming Han I'm here to save you!" Yea right, especially when we are of different levels, mine being the higher, yours being the lower. You come to save Ming Han, I thought you were of some damn fucking high level. But then, the difference was so huge. I could take on you and Ming Han at that time, without asking Kingston for help. Ming Han ran, you dueled with me. You activated Omnislash, which all of the hits connected to me. Dude, that was like, giving me a tap on the shoulders. You activated the fucking whirlwind thing, I can whack you like nothing is happening. You ran from me, I did not give chase cause I did not want to be pawned by the fucking tower, that's why. And you think I don't know, you have been typing "Kill James" to everyone in your team and they are ignoring you. Melvin and Ming Han could have killed me any moment, you need to team up with them to kill me. Ming Han told me that he was ignoring what you typed, playing the style he likes best. I did not know what the fuck you did in that match, but Ming Han's blog stated that you asked Melvin to get you a claymore. Melvin, being the ever nice guy, bought that piece of shit for you. You thought with your oh-so-mighty claymore you can reduce my health from full health to a new low? No, you fucking piece of shit. Before you can even reduce my life to half, the screen would have said that I pawned your head for a measly 100+ gold. You did not even have any killing spree to start off with. Killing you would just give me a few extra gold. I'd rather kill creeps. Killing you wouldn't give me any respect. Unless you brought down at least two of my towers, I would have respected you. And you got killed by neutral creeps. Eh? It's not like you're level 1 to 6. You laughed about it, Ming Han just shook his head. It was so shameful, to be even killed by neutral creeps. Omfg, if I were you, I would have knocked my head on the wall and kill myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today you wanted yo challenge me and Melvin 2v1 with me and Melvin as a team, and you solo us? Yea, I thought what, suddenly you got some DotA pro's brains or something. &lt;s&gt;I almost wanted to shout out "Are you serious noob?"&lt;/s&gt; I almost wetted my pants. I turned around and Melvin replied "He won't win one la." You played DotA longer than me, you spent your June holidays going to pavillion everyday to play DotA, yet you are more shit then me. Fuck you man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you seriously don't know how to appreciate your friends. Christopher is such a nice guy, yet you treated him like shit. You think you have friends all over? Yea right. I classified them under three groups. One: DotA discussion group. Two: Smoking buddies. Three: Your friends from outside, that hang around with you just because you hang around with them. Appreciate your friends, they are the most precious things you can have during your secondary school life. Think about what I wrote. Stop your I-know-everything-attitude and your I-have-everything-attitude. No one is going to shun just because you don't have what we have. Friends appreciate you for what you are, not what you are not. Think, clit, THINK YOU MOTHERFUCKER.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114381463797663921?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114381463797663921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114381463797663921&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114381463797663921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114381463797663921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/03/this-post-is-here-to-diss-you-off.html' title='This post is here to diss you off.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114372555326933395</id><published>2006-03-30T21:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:10.916+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursdays.</title><content type='html'>Thursdays, one of my favourite days in the week. When I wake up, it justs seem so wrong for the word "Truancy" to pop out in my head. It's just.. so wrong. I go to school happily, dream through english, perk up during history, make my hand break in geography, relax at the canteen catching uo with friends in different classes, try to concentrate through the ever-noisy chemistry lessons while resisting the thoughts to "Eaglechop" or "Series of Handspring Elbows" Kevin, pay attention to the most boring lesson on earth and listen to old stories told during CME, which is pretty alright for me. Then there's infocus, which is History taught by the ever humourous Mr Shahril and Biology, which is Band's teacher-in-charge, Miss Myra Ho, Myya Ho or whichever way you want to call her. It makes no difference for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today, is very very different. Why? Cause Mr Au Yong did not come to school today. Everyone goes yay, classes under Mr Au Yong for P.E goes boo, while Sharon is also goes boo. She likes maths, see? *winks* As usual, I dreamt through english, payed attention in history, did a test in geography, had a early recess, payed attention in chemistry while Geraldine and Jade made fun of my name. Geraldine says I look like ditto and renamed me as 傅大桃。Then Geraldine sent me a picture of her brother and Jade took a picture of me. I know I looked like a idiot but she said it was cute. Of course, cause I am teh "uBoRzZzXxX mAsKeD rIdEr LeHsSsZzZxXx". Then it was maths, Mr Roystan Gerard asked us a dumb question and told us ghost stories. Then Mr Singh wasn't coming in for CME, so we had another free period. We had a little fun here and there until after school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all happened when Nick threw a paper ball at me and Kingston (how evil). We bo bian, so we evaded and at an attempt to hit me, he hit Ying Ting by mistake. She threw it back at him, and we got our revenge. Ha! Then Qi Han, Shawn, Mahdi joined Nick. It was 2v4, we were at a complete disadvantage. I don't know about Kingston, but I evaded most attacks fired at me. I know, I'm good. Cause I am Masked Rider Ryuuki. That's the difference between you and me, people. Then Ying Ting flashed out her mighty 3230 to take a video of me in action, I fell. Then blah and blah, the day was over before you knew it. And Kingston called me in between my dota matches, and I kena pawned. Nabeh. I iS tEh HaTe EuU nOrHs! (Ok I'm just kidding)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114372555326933395?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114372555326933395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114372555326933395&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114372555326933395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114372555326933395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/03/thursdays.html' title='Thursdays.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114346912938013972</id><published>2006-03-27T21:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:10.847+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dota.</title><content type='html'>I just don't get the reason why, I just keep saying the vulgarity "Nabeh", just as how much crap that can be vomitted out from his mouth. But the word vomit sounds so.. wrong. So I shall use another word, which is.. I dUnCh NoE lArSsSxXxZzZ *include some gay actions*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, Dota.  Everywhere I go, my sorry ass gets pawned. This trend never dies off. I go to a lane, a hero sees me, it's his lucky day. Free kill, free money, everything ALSO FREE. I want to get free from this sorry state, I want to pawn your fuggin smug ass. Yes, I'm gonna pawn your ass so much that you will come begging in front of me, your penis spurting semen or women dripping cum from their vaginas. Yes, I'll be that good. You just watch out. *Obviously I'm kidding, I see hero = scared. Still go and kill you? Yea. Unless I can activate "whosyourdaddy" then I attack you.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I take a look at life, I take a deep breath and wish there was a reset button of some sort. Or delete data or play new game. You screw up something, you want to restart. Then, you realise and say "Cheebye. This is not a ps2/ps/xBox/xBox360/or whatever I can't care less game." After that, you harbour thoughts of suicide and you really die. But if you die, the whole country makes a big fuss out of it, and that makes you consider your decision to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look at the above things, I feel like chopping off someone's kuku chiaw and sell it online.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114346912938013972?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114346912938013972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114346912938013972&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114346912938013972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114346912938013972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/03/dota.html' title='Dota.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114312334389808531</id><published>2006-03-23T22:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:10.769+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hamachi the Hamster</title><content type='html'>Hamachi, which I believe it to be a IRC program. And yes, I'm such a frog under a well. I have never used IRC, which was said to be used for a very long time. I asked Melvin about IRC, he told me that he has used IRC since he was in secondary one. I remembered that he met a female, nicknamed "Wind blow I can fly". If Melvin sees this, it'll just bring bad memories back to him, so let's just ignore the fact that he has used IRC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hamachi, was introduced to me by Mr Ong Ming Han, because he is unable to send me the lancraft program. When I first saw Hamachi, this was what came to my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/74897494.jpg" alt="Image hosting by Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it's Hamtaro the Hamster! Until I went to the webbie, and then I found out that it was some dumb program. Shit, I even thought if I went to that Hamachi webbie, there might be this message that keeps repeating itself, like the realplayer crap. For realplayer, it justs repeats "With realplayer, you can play almost anything" over and over. But for this webbie, I thought it might go "Konnichiwa! Watashi Hamachi desu! Dozo yoroshiku!" or "Konnichiwa! I am Hamachi, your friendly neighbourhood hamster! Please guide me as I'm ignorant! Arigatou gozaimasu!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things were this bad, seriously. If you're wondering, Kah Chuan did not scratch his balls today. I'm serious.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114312334389808531?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114312334389808531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114312334389808531&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114312334389808531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114312334389808531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/03/hamachi-hamster.html' title='Hamachi the Hamster'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114302054617276334</id><published>2006-03-22T17:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:10.706+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ball scratching.</title><content type='html'>I know I'm guilty, but I can make a choice, to go or not to go. I decided not to go for TAF and stuff happens. It justs tell me, that if I don't go for TAF, interesting things might happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all happened during National Anthem, and it definitely gave the people who sits in front a chance to talk about it. I don't know what Kah Chuan did, but after the National Anthem, Mr Singh told Kah Chuan not to scratch his balls in the middle of the National Anthem/Pledge Taking. After saying so, he walked off, smiling. I didn't catch the first bit, so all I heard was "scratch your balls." I had to ask Nick what in the blue hell happened, so I can get the whole picture. Then, I turned around and told Kingston about what Ranjit said, he smiled and said "Neh. He scratching his balls now." I turned, and lo and behold, HE REALLY SCRATCHED HIS BALLS AGAIN. Mr Shahril even knew about the Kah Chuan's ball scratching acts and was teasing him all the way up. Shawn didn't want to stand close to Kah Chuan, for fear of his balls being scratched by Kah Chuan, the ball scratcher. Damn, imagine someone scratching your balls. This thought is even more scary then the satay stick shit. Thinking of it gives me the shivers. Damn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114302054617276334?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114302054617276334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114302054617276334&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114302054617276334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114302054617276334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/03/ball-scratching.html' title='Ball scratching.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114239891976442762</id><published>2006-03-15T12:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:10.637+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing.</title><content type='html'>It simply amazes me that how the same person can look different, whether he/she poses for a picture. It justs, puzzles me. Here is an example for you people, no offence.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/chalet.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/320/chalet.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From a snapshot, she looks kinda pretty. Serious. BUT,&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/xI%3F%3F%20yI.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/320/xI%3F%3F%20yI.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looks so, wrong in this picture. She should just act normal and not pose. She will lokk better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And people have been pm-ing me, telling me their love confessions. In fact, only 2. One keeps introducing me to lots and lots of pretty females, the other, just keeps sending me songs, telling me he loves her, how to woo her and stuff. I CANNOT EVEN BLOG IN PEACE. CCB.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masked Rider Ryuuki, signing off~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114239891976442762?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114239891976442762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114239891976442762&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114239891976442762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114239891976442762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/03/amazing.html' title='Amazing.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114209683318638684</id><published>2006-03-12T00:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:10.555+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chalet.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm really happy today, I swear. Morning, I woke up enthusiastically, just to be told hard in the face that Melvin would be going to church and will meet us at 5 to 6 plus, Kingston would be going somewhere far away and Ming Han would only come with either. So, I had to make do with Jun Li and sacrifice OUR time and money, just to wait for 2 of the "Young Masters".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I met Jun Li at his house at one plus, when we made our way to Downtown East. It wasn't such a long walk afterall, Just the fact that WE HAD TO WALK A LONG WAY TO HIS CHALET. From the entrance to his block, it will take you 5 minutes or so. It's Block K, mind you. We went there, dropped the curry and our belongings and left his father and Jun Li's cute younger brother in the chalet. We walked about, aimlessly. We walked past a few shops, drooled on the display window outside a computer shop and went to play some arcade. AND I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE THAT I BLEW 30 BUCKS OVER THOSE SHITTY MACHINES. 30, fucking, dollars. I feel like chopping my balls and throw them down the chute. After the games, we went to rent a bike, at my expense. 16 dollars for 2 mountain bikes, for 2 hours. Jun Li spent his time on the bike, showing off his riding skills to me. As for me, someone who just mastered the art of riding a bike last year, was busy trying not to kill myself. Unless my memory fails me, I have almost died 4 times. Yes, 4. First, I almost rammed into a tree. Second, I almost rammed into a lamp post. Third, I almost crashed into a guy. Last and the least, I almost crashed into a girl, who turned in every direction I turned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/Image%28038%29.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/320/Image%28038%29.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That, is the only picture I took during resting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I helped Jun Li's family carry some stuff. His uncle unloaded so much stuff, which includes a mahjong table, four heavy chairs, and some food. I carried four chairs while Jun Li carried the mahjong table. We walked all the way, from the carpark BACK TO THE FUCKING CHALET. When I reached there, my hands were almost dropping out and I was perspiring like shit. Then, Holy Angel(Melvin) called and said that he would meet us at around five plus. Ok, reasonable, cause it's five plus now. We sat outside the entrance to the chalet, while Jun Li was staring at a chio bu while I am engrossed with Fifa. But, I don't understand one thing. HOW THE FUCK CAN SOMEONE BE SO HAPPY WHEN THEY TAKE THE WRONG BUS? OMFG. Melvin and Ming Han decided to listen to Jun Li when they could listen to the all time pro, James. Ok, I'm exaggerating. They got on the correct one and by that time, Jun Li's chio bu had already gone. We walked to the bus stop and waited for them. When the bus came, Jun Li and I hid behind the billboard and Ming Han and Melvin could not spot two huge people. I reavealed myself and we brought them to the chalet. Then, upon reaching the chalet, after I have emerged from the toilet, Melvin asked me "Did you see what I see?" Yes, dumbo. I saw her earlier than you. This is her picture. No, she is not ugly but it is because, Melvin's photo-shooting skills suck. It's taken on the barbeque.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/chalet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/320/chalet.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot believe, after so many attempts to take her picture, only Melvin got her picture. Damn. And Ming Han, keep your kinky habits to yourself. Jun Li's brother ran up to him and muttered some weird language to Ming Han when we were talking and Ming Han replied "Ok." and continued talking. We then laughed, cause we know that poor kid would never know what we are laughing at. Then, during the barbeque, Ming Han saw this cute girl, which makes me unable to control my temptation to take a picture of her.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/Image%28043%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/320/Image%28043%29.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a video of her, doing some cute actions. We ate vermicilli, and the curry was fucking hot. Seeing is believing.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/Image%28040%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/320/Image%28040%29.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xx5_HJdmXFc"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xx5_HJdmXFc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, we went to get some alcholic drinks. I got myself Long Island, which contains 10% alcohol. This is the proof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/Long%20Island.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/320/Long%20Island.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jun Li's brother's friend bought two cans of beer that Indians drink, Jun Li got Heinekein, Ming Han got Long Island too and Melvin got himself nothing. We drank and played, like ALL adults.&lt;br /&gt;Drinking the Long Island made me abit dizzy, and thus, I did something stupid. I transformed into Masked Rider Ryuuki.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/Image%28047%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/320/Image%28047%29.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, the transformation is incomplete. I'm dizzy, remember? Then, we went to get ourselves food and I got Melvin to do a educational video on how to eat Chicken Wings with a fork.&lt;br /&gt;"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rc1RlouXENY"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rc1RlouXENY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, we went to the arcade to play and taadaa. On the way home, I took some pictures and here they are.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/Image%28049%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/320/Image%28049%29.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/Image%28050%29.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/320/Image%28050%29.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then saw some teachers and had a little chat with them on the way to Tampines. Now, I am here, blogging like a sucker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night, people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114209683318638684?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114209683318638684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114209683318638684&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114209683318638684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114209683318638684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/03/chalet.html' title='Chalet.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114173427382729175</id><published>2006-03-07T20:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:10.423+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesdays.</title><content type='html'>The day when my infocus starts for the week. One of the two days when I don't have TAF. It started out horribly wrong. Someone locked the doors, making me unable to get IN which is inside the classroom. I had to take the keys from Hidayat before Morning Assembly, ran up to the third floor, grab the papers and rush back down. I made it in time, readying myself before the parade commander gave out the commands. I'm, Flash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recess. Early recess, thanks to the very handsome teacher who released us 5 minutes earlier.  I ate and saw my good friend Jun Li and Ming Han. Melvin, you have a cold. And I ate something from your plate. I hope I get a cold, so I don't have to go to school tomorrow. Sometimes, I just wish time would stop, while we talk, talk and talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In-focus, I listened to a kinda emo song, which is very nice. Unfortunately, it's a rap and it's sung by the overrated Fort Minor. Screw that. Oh yes, Kevin, please bring Do As Infinity tomorrow. I have a sudden fetish for Jap songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish I were Kah Chuan, being all alone and quiet in the corner. But if I really act like that, people might think I'm crazy, cause I'm a noisy dick. I'd just wish that this hate thing would just stop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114173427382729175?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114173427382729175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114173427382729175&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114173427382729175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114173427382729175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/03/tuesdays.html' title='Tuesdays.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114164808545789782</id><published>2006-03-06T19:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:10.355+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a dad.</title><content type='html'>Here's a respond, Screamo. You say I should get thrown into a boy's home? If you think I'm close to my mom, then I shall tell you that I am not in the least, close to her. Since the moment I've entered the world officially, that is when my name is registered to be a Singaporean, I've stayed with another family. For 6, fucking, years. And regretfully, I enjoyed my stay there. When my parents came to visit me, I called my father "Uncle" and my mother "Auntie". That's how bad it was, Screamo. My mum's face was livid and she whacked the hell outta me. IN THE HOME OF SOMEONE ELSE. And let me tell you, the same was for my sister. I treated her like any other person, like a friend or something. And during that period of time, during my birthdays, they bought a cake for me, WITHOUT FAIL. They are not really well-to-do. With two daughters still in university, a son in the army, my Ee-poh (that's my maternal grandmother's younger sister) was unemployed and her husband was a taxi-driver. They were living in a one room flat, so you can tell how poor they are. Nevertheless, they bought gifts for me, got me toys and showering their love on me. Even their kids got me something which I still keep today. A mickey mouse cup, when I was 4 years old. What did I get from my OWN DAD AND MOM? Nothing, dude. Nothing. Not even a call to wish me Happy Birthday. After I was six, I moved back, and I cried, threw tantrums all over and my mum took the cane and whacked me. My dad would hurry over, and stop her. I was six dude. Imagine, when suddenly you move to a foreign environment at a young age, you will feel scared and cry. That goes the same for me, and my sister. Yes, Screamo. Me and my sister were seperated from birth and I only knew this fact when I was 6.&lt;br /&gt;Primary 1, no band 1 = the cane. When teachers commented that I was talkative, I also got caned. I twisted my ankle, I was not shown sympathy. And yes dude, recess. 30 cents a day, only enough for a fishcake and a fishball. Or a nugget. No more. Only during my birthdays, while sending me to school, my dad will give me 6 dollars to spend. AND MY MUM WILL ASK ME WHERE THE MONEY DAD GAVE ME WENT. I HAD TO PAY HER BACK, FOR 4 WEEKS I STARVED IN SCHOOL. 6 dollars divided by 30 cents = 20 days. Only during primary 2, I got 50 cents a day.&lt;br /&gt;To those that know me, you see me having luxuries, yea. ALL THIS IS PAID BY MY DAD BITCHES. What's the responsibilty of my mum? To bring me to buy the stuff I wanted. What about you Screamo? I BET YOU HAVE A LOVING MOTHER WHO PAMPERS YOU. I cannot confide with my mother, she will spill everything out to her colleagues and my relatives. You tell me to love my mum? That's as good as telling me to take a knife and chop of my balls. No matter what, I won't turn my back on my father cause only he supports whatever I do. Not to mention, that others come to my blog to say that I'm a blessed kid who doesn't know about my mum's intention, I shall tell you the truth. Her pleasure comes from the pain I receive. I am not her toy. She may have carried me in her fucking womb, but who took care of me when I was young? My Ee-por. In her eyes, I am always in the wrong. She is always right. Look Screamo, if you still think my mum is some holy saint, Fuck to you. I don't care if you chup in what-so-ever gang or you work for the Government, look at this entry. AND UNDERSTAND. Note, even my name was given by some dumb fortune-teller. They did not name me, except to put that surname on my birth certificate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn, thinking of the past makes me cry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114164808545789782?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114164808545789782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114164808545789782&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114164808545789782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114164808545789782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-have-dad.html' title='I have a dad.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114113893294882174</id><published>2006-02-28T22:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:10.210+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crossfire in Yoshinoya.</title><content type='html'>I might not be updating frequently, due to some little snags might shitty computer has encountered and it is bugging the fuck outta me. I feel like walking up to a police, tell him to come over my house and blow a hole in my computer and I'll reward him handsomely for it. These are my thoughts, so don't REALLY CALL A POLICE TO BLOW MY COMPUTER INTO HALF. Maybe all I need is a new motherboard. But then, BAH. Maybe I'll blog about this shit tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today's incident.  Jia Hao, Jun Li, Kingston and me had a hard time deciding on where to eat. Maybe not Kingston, cause he is too busy playing Fifa on my phone. After Jun Li said go MacDonald's to eat AGAIN, Jia Hao suggested Yoshinoya which is quite a good choice. We all headed down the escalator and when we reached Yoshinoya, Jia Hao was kind of astounded. Cause he saw, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;her. &lt;/span&gt;One ton to carry. Never mind, but Kai Hui and gang was there. That gave Jia Hao another one ton to carry. Then, Yan Han happened to walk past us and  tons fell from the sky and crushed Jia Hao to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No la, bodoh. But then, 2 ex-es and one crush ALL IN ONE SPOT. If I were in that situation, I would've killed myself by scalding myself to death (There's a store se.lling deep-fried stuff opposite Yoshinoya). Then doing the math above, 1+1+8=10 tons to carry. Makes me go "Heng ah. I not a siao peh like Jia Hao." It's ok, it wasn't the end of the world. We then bought our stuff, then we sat down to eat. Kingston WAS still hanging on to my MIGHTY 3230, cause it has a Fifa game inside, and others DO NOT. That's the difference between you and me, people. I have Fifa ok? Then Kingston rushed through his male just for my, Fifa. I reluctantly handed over my phone to him and continued with my food. Then, Jia Hao took out his waffle fries and put them on the plate. Kingston &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thought&lt;/span&gt; that Jia Hao did not want the fries anymore and gulped it down in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;one fucking gobble.&lt;/span&gt; Jia Hao gripped him by the neck and vented his anger on him for the fries. After the meal, Jia Hao decided to fold heart-shaped straws for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;her.&lt;/span&gt; After he made one, I was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;threatened &lt;/span&gt;to give the straws to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;her&lt;/span&gt; or my Mighty 3230 will be destroyed by that unscrupulous guy. Like, oops? I walked over to her table, and said "Delivery from Jia Hao" and brisked walked back to my seat. Then, I had to do another delivery and left it on the table, too. Then Jia Hao took &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;our&lt;/span&gt; used straws and made heart-shaped straws again. I made the delivery again, CAUSE MY BAG IS IN DANGER. Then, Kingston went to take some straws and he gave them to Jia Hao cause he needs em to make more straws. Angelina walked back, showing us the state the straws are. After Jia Hao finished one more, I WAS FORCED to make another delivery and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;she&lt;/span&gt; threatened to throw her drink at me. I decided to turn back and my bag was in danger. Omg, I want to go to a corner and cry, but I can't. 16 leh, cry for fuck? Then, I had a good idea. I FUCKING MADE KINGSTON DELIVER THE STRAW AND I SAVED BOTH MY NECK AND MY BAG. How clever I am. Then, after he returned, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;she &lt;/span&gt;came and said "How dare you give me a used straw!" I was thinking "How screwed can I be?" Then the war began. Ice was flying, it was WAR. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Her&lt;/span&gt; and gang versus Jia Hao. Who will win?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ice was flying, all thrown by &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;her, &lt;/span&gt;I presumed. And for heaven's sake, she is a netball player and all her shots missed. Thanks to my lightning quick reflexes and my *dramas abit* "Sharingan!!' *whacked in the head by a sledgehammer* Alright, they all missed, and it was PURE disgusting. As gentlemen, we just evaded the onslaught of "hails" and did not throw back at them. The war got so bad that the Yoshinoya staff had to peek and look at what's happening. Sensing something wasn't right, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;she &lt;/span&gt;her gang scrammed from Yoshinoya and Jia Hao came up with a conclusion: "Never go to Yoshinoya." How wise, dude. After those words, we too, got out of Yoshinoya cause our area is full of ice-cubes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, if you're wondering about the score, it's nil-nil. Why?&lt;br /&gt;We did not retialiate and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;she&lt;/span&gt; did not hit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheebye spyware/worm/trojan or whatever. I BLOG YOU ALSO WANT DI SIAO. LUCKY I USE MOZILLA YOU CAN ONLY MAKE TAB. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Knn, press publish post they di siao me again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114113893294882174?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114113893294882174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114113893294882174&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114113893294882174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114113893294882174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/crossfire-in-yoshinoya.html' title='Crossfire in Yoshinoya.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114105139188311327</id><published>2006-02-27T22:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:10.143+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gratitude.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I hereby thank Yingting and Bernice for being such nice people to help me find the codes for linking and thus, I can link now. If I have forgotten to link you, tag at my tagboard and this shall not go unnoticed. Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114105139188311327?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114105139188311327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114105139188311327&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114105139188311327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114105139188311327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/gratitude.html' title='Gratitude.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114104105329371215</id><published>2006-02-27T19:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:10.048+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Interesting uh.. Phrases?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I just can't believe it when I see some of my friends have such ridiculous nicks. Everytime I come online, I scan through my so pathetically few contacts just to see who is online. And everytime, this friends of mine just, just never fails to give me a weird feeling, whether to laugh or not to laugh. Here are some examples:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Scammer are being FAKE at your OWN RISK!" You must be thinking that he is trying to tell you that scammers are fakes, do things at your own risk. That is after much.. analysing. But but but, this is the actual explanation "Scammers are being fake at your own risk!" It simply means that scammers are fake for your sake. Here's another one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"MapleSEA seem like bored." After looking at this phrase and racking your brains for a while, what this guy is trying to say is MapleSEA is getting boring. But, if you look at this phrase and your first thoughts will tell you that "MapleSEA is bored". Now, how can a program talk? My primary school 3 teacher once told a boy off when some bastard kicked the table and that guy went to scold that guy saying that the wall is crying cause he kicked it. Programs can't talk, they are NON-LIVING THINGS. Omg, I want to tell that guy off, but I don't know him well. Let's just leave things the way they are. I can't be bothered with him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114104105329371215?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114104105329371215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114104105329371215&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114104105329371215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114104105329371215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/interesting-uh-phrases.html' title='Interesting uh.. Phrases?'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114095736519049067</id><published>2006-02-26T19:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:09.967+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday.</title><content type='html'>Sorry YingTing, for not updating regualarly. I'm updating now, and you can't call me 猪八戒 now.&lt;br /&gt;I seriously have nothing to write about, serious. Just the Poland joke that Mr Ranjit said on Friday, I seriously have nothing to say anymore.&lt;br /&gt;*Note, RS is Mr Ranjit.&lt;br /&gt;RS: How many people does it take to paint a wall in Poland?&lt;br /&gt;You: Not sure?&lt;br /&gt;RS: 3&lt;br /&gt;You: Why?&lt;br /&gt;Rs: Two people to hold the ladder, and person to hold the paintbrush and and the two people holding the ladder will move the ladder up and down, while the painter just holds the brush steady.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RS: What does a bird do when it flies over Poland?&lt;br /&gt;You: Uh?&lt;br /&gt;Rs: It turn upside down.&lt;br /&gt;You: What the?&lt;br /&gt;Rs: It flies over Poland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Done, for today. Give me more topics to write about and make sure I can write about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114095736519049067?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114095736519049067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114095736519049067&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114095736519049067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114095736519049067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/sunday.html' title='Sunday.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114069790997122735</id><published>2006-02-23T19:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:09.890+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A fight.</title><content type='html'>"Kaninabei!" Was what I heard when I walked past 2e4. Being busybodies, Melvin and I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;just &lt;/span&gt;had to stop and watch what was happening. No, Don't you go pointing a finger and say "Kaypoh!"Cause if you happen to walk past 2e4 at that time, you will also stop and see. I could see Nick egging the guy by muttering "Fight fight fight! Fight fight fight!" In the end, just a shove and everything was settled. That guy fell, and the shover was shouting in some language which obviously, I don't understand. Alright, he was shouting in english, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. So, me and Melvin walked off to the toilet to do our business. Then Nick came in and lamented that they did not fight and it was a waste of time.&lt;br /&gt;Then during maths, 2 guys from e5 went to the toilet to change. Jovene, Qi Ying, Ying Ting and Angelina saw them show off their abs, from OUTSIDE the toilet. They were so stunned for words, that their jaw dropped. Apparently, they were too hot for them but I am hotter than them. Why? They have the abs, I have the meat. See?&lt;br /&gt;Then there was this staple bullet craze, where Nick used MY staple bullets and placed those barbed bastards on my chair making me howl in pain when I sat on my chair. Damn, look before you sit. Ok Nick, you had better give me what you used cause you used them for senseless purposes. And more importantly, you used them on me, so I demand that you return me what you used. Aight, I'm just kidding.&lt;br /&gt;And again, I've decided to watch Final Fantasy Advent Children. I've met my primary school friend just to loan the damn cd from him to go home and watch the damn thing. And, I'm going to watch the show a hundred times. God bless me if I go crazy from watching this movie. Maybe I'm gonna upload some screenshots of that movie so that females can masturbate for Cloud and Vincent, while males can masturbate for Tifa, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ONLY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End of post, tag at my tagboard or else your dicky will rot or your vagina will grow a penis. =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114069790997122735?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114069790997122735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114069790997122735&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114069790997122735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114069790997122735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/fight.html' title='A fight.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114061028449558785</id><published>2006-02-22T18:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:09.826+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Willpower.</title><content type='html'>For one year and a few months, I have classified myself under the "Strong-willed" group. Cause, I have been able to resist my temptation for smoking like for, 1 year plus? Or rather, why throw away money to kill yourself? You smoke and smoke and smoke, you get pnuemonia and you die. What a sad way to end your life, and a expensive way, too. It's like, if you smoke three packs of ciggarettes a day on a uniformed basis, and you smoke "Marlboro Ang" till you die, you might have been able to save enough money to go on a trip to europe. According to Mr Neo, if you smoke three packs of ciggarettes a day, you might die in three years. Assuming that you really die in three years, let us calculate the costs you might have incurred if a packet of ciggarettes cost 11 dollars, 365 years times 3 = 1095 days. 1095 days times 11 dollars = 12045 dollars. Take it that you have been smoking one pack for the past 1 year, 365 times 11 = 4015 dollars. Adding together, you would have saved a total amount of 4015 + 12045 = 16060 dollars. Hell, take that money to Indoneasia and you might be a millionaire. Or you can buy a car and even if you get thousand plus a month, put aside at least 300 bucks a month, you can also buy a good car. Even you can buy a condominium and live in it happily while paying off even though you earn thousand plus a month. See? Smoking is a expensive way to die. If you want to die that badly, take a knife and stab it in your heart and you will die immediately, due to excessive bleeding. LOL. I'm talking about willlpower and here I am talking about smoking. Back to my damn life. So I was talking about my willpower, and now I discovered that I am not that strong afterall. Argh. And I am quoting from Kingston's phrase "The mind is a powerful thing" and I have permission from him to write this into my blog. Heck, I'll go for Yuri's "The mind's more powerful than the eye." But, it's more on "Peer pressure". Well, take a look.&lt;br /&gt;After Taf, on my way back to class, Kingston said "Tricia很美." Jun Li agreed with him and I looked up, and saw her staring down. I said "会meh?" End of part 1. Now to part 2.&lt;br /&gt;At Long John's, Kingston saw a chio bu at Long John and for no reason he said Angeline is prettier than Tricia. He kept on doing this to Melvin until Melvin, either he is totally pissed or he was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;brainwashed&lt;/span&gt; by Kingston until he said "Yah la." Then Kingston repeated what he said about Tricia earlier and everyone agreed. In the end, I just said "Yah la." Then blah blah blah. We had a little talk about willpower and what should this post's title should be. Then we went on and on and on until we left Long John. End of Story. =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114061028449558785?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114061028449558785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114061028449558785&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114061028449558785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114061028449558785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/willpower.html' title='Willpower.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114051944520186303</id><published>2006-02-21T18:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:09.759+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good news or bad news.</title><content type='html'>I just can't believe it. My statcounter is up and running, due to the fact that my text for the counter is black, along with the damn background. That's the bad news. I didn't realise this till I went to statcounter to get another code. Then I saw 243 unique visitors, 186 pageloads. I've put my statcounter somewhere in February 2006, and I have 243 visitors. Kingston has his blog up since last year, and he has 600+ visitors. I'll catch up to you, with a new code and stuff, with my blog counter and all resetted. Except for my tagboard. Of course. Then there is good news. Angelina got off, and now I have to get her a gift. Gah. I'll get you spongebob, I don't care. =D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114051944520186303?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114051944520186303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114051944520186303&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114051944520186303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114051944520186303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/good-news-or-bad-news.html' title='Good news or bad news.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114043752866916530</id><published>2006-02-20T19:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:09.691+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Process writing.</title><content type='html'>She was bawling for the past few hours, after seeing her face in the papers as a horny bitch, only craving for sex. She wanted to sue the media for slandering, but she had no money. She could only pretend that she doesn't exist when she walks past the familiar streets, ignoring the snorts of laughter and disgust when she walks past people. Occasionally, a guy may stop her in the streets and ask her for sex. She could only scream and run, with no one save her from the bottomless pit. It all happened when this guy and his group of friends decide to do a gangbang and videotaped the whole incident and posted it on the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was a ugly little bastard that knows nothing else but breaking hearts. He had a legendary reputation of having a huge penis, and rumours spread like wildfire. Horny bitches had been asking him to be their steads, to get ahold of his oh-so-mighty penis. After the act, they would be sticking onto him like a leech, never letting him out of their sight. They want that magical feeling, and he was the only who can provide that. But, after having so many girlfriends, he fell in love with this female, who is rich, not so well academically and average in the looks department. It took him many tries to get hold of the girl, as the girl also likes him alot. She rejected him for quite sometime, but since horny-ness got the better of her, so she consented to be his girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took quite a few tries before he could initiate sex, due to the fact that she had a strict-upbringing, but nevertheless, horny. She wanted to have sex badly due to peer pressure. All of her friends had sex before and her pornographic surfing experience where the girls look like they are enjoying themselves. She also had masturbated by herself and got herself some sex toys like exotic dildos. She was elated when the guy's meaning finally got through her puny skull, that after so much talk, all he wants is some sex. He promised to make the feel that she is in nirvana and that she will begging, with her pussy dripping with cum, asking for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That guy turned up at her house with some guys and a video recorder. She at first was shocked by the fact that why are they so much guys but that ugly swine got hold of the situation, and told her that they are also here, to help her achieve nirvana faster. Each guy plugged each hole and began shooting sperms everywhere. Soon, sperms are flying about the air like fireworks. There wasn't a moment when sperms are never around. Soon, she was covered in hot white cum, and she was licking every single drop of her body. The guys left and the guy who was recording, he conveniently removed the faces of the fuckers and conveniently left that horny bitch's face uncovered. They also invented new fucking patterns, which were greatly appreciated by the pornstars. News travelled fast, faster than people imagined. Soon, it reached the media's hands and it was that when she was shamed, shamed beyond words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114043752866916530?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114043752866916530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114043752866916530&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114043752866916530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114043752866916530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/process-writing.html' title='Process writing.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114035530421715253</id><published>2006-02-19T20:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:09.625+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebration run.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/trophy..jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/200/trophy..jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/Class%20identity..0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/200/Class%20identity..jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm in no mood to blog, all inspiration on Celebration Run was somhow, gone. Here are some pictures for you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;All of this pictures belong to me. Don't you bitch about my pictures in my tagboard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114035530421715253?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114035530421715253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114035530421715253&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114035530421715253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114035530421715253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/celebration-run.html' title='Celebration run.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-114000063231792254</id><published>2006-02-15T18:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:09.360+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Total Defence day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Alright, today is total defence day. What is total defence day you ask me? As a patriotic Singaporean, I'm proud to tell you that total defence day is a day when citizens are allowed to carry arms and walk around. No? Oh yeah. That applies to America only. You carry a gun in America and it is not illegal. Heck, they even have shops for it. As for Singapore, with your very busybody neighbours, if you even have a bullet in your pocket, I'll bet that they will call the police and say that you posses arms and you are a potential danger to the whole block. Bah. Well, total defence means you go to this &lt;a href="http://www.totaldefence.org.sg/"&gt;total defence website&lt;/a&gt; and read information off from it. I like total defence in a way cause I can skip one period of chinese. Thus, I am spared from my chinese teacher's nagging. Thank the Singapore Government to have comed up with such a creative day where students can skip a few periods. Now when I recall today's activity, I really wished that I have a digital camera where I can snap some nice photos for you people to see. The show today really was funny. I watched the show with some buddies in my class and we noticed something. During a riot, civilians are attacked, I'm not sure cause I've never seen a riot before, not even a strike, so beat me. The Npcc cadets then intervened, that looks and sounds reasonable. Police are used to keep internal peace within a country. Then, the Ncc cadets ran out. Omfg? It's so gay, a simple riot, there is no need to mobilise the army. I know, we have peace for so many years, and it is unlikely for a war to happen. There are so many international organisations Singapore joined, so it is unlikely for Singapore to get attacked. There is the United Nations, ASEAN, five power defense arrangement and World Health Organisation. Oops, WHO has nothing to do with war. But there is no need to mobilise the army for a simple riot, which can be easily taken care of by the police. Singapore has a army to protect Singapore from being attacked externally, not internally. Maybe when there are terrorists, you get the army, that's understandable. But riot? Gah. Then someone in my group pointed out that someone from the Ncc group has a little trouble with one rioter. He pointed his &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; rifle at that rioter and the rioter can still look at the gun for a moment before dropping his weapon, with a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; on his face. Omg. Then, someone said, "Machiam like terrorists." Then Kingston replied "If terrorists can be dealt with so easily, that will be great." And he got caught by ex-staff sergeant-but-now-Operations Manager Mr Royston, not for carrying suspicious objects, not for looking suspicious, but for eating when it is still not recess. He was shouting so loud, that he got everyone's attention. Then it was assembly, and it's such a rare occasion in four directions, North, south, east, west got chio bu. Then we had a talk on child cancer. The talker was pretty and there are gifts sponsored by citybank. Eco-system calculators, which I mistook for credit cards. Then on to F&amp;N, where Mrs Abbas's lesson got interrupted by Mr Kenny Tan's Total Defence speech. When he reached the "In short," part, she was happy like a lark. Then the speech went on for five more minutes. After the part with "suspicious" in it, she said "I see a lot of suspicious people in front of me." Maybe mainly me, cause I'm the exceptionally ugly person there. During f&amp;amp;n, Kingston &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;risked&lt;/span&gt; his life to blog a little. I said my blog is better, but then he stated that his blog was better then mine. Fine. It's up to readers to decide whose blog is better. I have no statcounter, cause I don't know how to put it inside. Someone teach me how to link and insert a statcounter.Then, on to infocus, then after everything. For the first time in my life, I saw Melvin go close to Tricia. First time in my life. By the way, those things that you ate in class, gingerbread or whatever, they taste great, especially the chocolates. Then I went to Tampines Mall with Jia Hao and Jun Li to eat, and then went on to buy Kelly Poon's cd. Haha, I have a ticket to go shake hands with her. I really want to scan the picture into my computer, but I think my scanner does not like Kelly Poon, thus not allowing me to scan it. If you want the ticket, tap me on the shoulder and ask me for the ticket nicely. I will give you the ticket for free, and might consider to lend you the cd. You take the cd, go to the expo and get her signature. After the whole thing, you return me the cd and I got her autograph. Yay. What a simple way to get autographs.&lt;br /&gt;By the way, Ying Ting is a *******. Why? Attaching a look-a-like condom on Patrick's head. How unfeminish. And all this happened yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-114000063231792254?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/114000063231792254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=114000063231792254&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114000063231792254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/114000063231792254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/total-defence-day.html' title='Total Defence day.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-113991015976178706</id><published>2006-02-14T17:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:09.293+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Valentine's day. A day where ugly people tell someone who looks good that they love them. To put it simply, it's a day where you show others how much you love your crushes. Last few years, I spent it alone. And this year, it ain't any special, I'm still spending it alone. Oh wait. For maybe, just maybe, a good 20 minutes +, I spent it with Jia Hao. I wanted to buy Kelly Poon's album, but well. It ain't out yet. I'm trying my luck tomorrow. Then, while browsing and looking at other cds, my mum called and scolded me for some bitchy shit. I actually wanted to to go Tampines Mall and buy a gift for Angelina, who says that I'm biased. ARGH. It just kind of slipped my mind, and well. My mum ruined my mood. I was actually intending to get you Patrick, bigger in size, to make up. But my mom ruined my mood, so I'm getting you something else. Expect it on Thursday. There was so much giving and taking, and most of the people in our class bought flowers &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;FOR THEMSELVES&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;OH MY GOD. &lt;/span&gt;We only have 60 flowers, and it's like, more than 1/4 of the flowers are bought by our own class. We have competition, but ha. They can't compete with us, cause we are the pros. We sell our flowers at 2 dollars each, they sell their's at 3 dollars each. Our flowers are fresh, and I'm not sure about theirs. Seriously. We earned a profit of.. I forgot. But never mind, tomorrow is total defence day. If there are flowers to be sold, I'm not sure if there will be any customers. Who in the right mind will buy flowers on Total defence? No one, I'm sure of that. But heck. I'm spending Valentine's day alone, Jia Hao can spend it with Ying Ting and Angelina if they consent. Kingston has his girlfriend, Melvin has band to spend it with, Ming Han can spend it with females in R.O.S.E and Jun Li can spend it with his crush over the phone. As for me? No crush, no one to talk to and worse. I'm waiting for my testimonials. 3, in fact. Bah. What a low-life I am.&lt;br /&gt;I hate Valentine's day. Btw, this year's sec 2 batch is really childish. E.g&lt;br /&gt;Myra Ho: In the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;pond&lt;/span&gt; ecosystem...&lt;br /&gt;Secondary 2's: Eeeeee...&lt;br /&gt;Me (shouting): I told you to use rotting log.&lt;br /&gt;See? It's pon-d, not po-rn. Get this right. Why am I defending Miss Ho? Cause she is my class's co-form teacher. =D&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-113991015976178706?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/113991015976178706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=113991015976178706&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113991015976178706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113991015976178706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/valentines-day.html' title='Valentine&apos;s day.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-113982305517871067</id><published>2006-02-13T16:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:09.156+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What a shitty day to begin with my father staring at me till I can't sleep anymore. Then there is TAF, which is equally assholish as well. Then when I reached the class, I proudly took out my "VodaVoda" waterbottle which has not been opened before. Brand new. I drank a sip, it tasted ok. Feeling that it is safe for consumption, I took a huge gulp. Then, the drink suddenly tasted like drainwater. I felt like spitting it out, but unable to. So I gulped it down, holding my breath. I felt shagged, feeling thirsty and felt like vomitting. Then, recess. The females were ticking the boxes on who to give flowers to, and they were saying that out loud. I heard my name, but did not give much notice to it. Then recess, and Melvin said "James! Ying Ting said she wanted to give you a rose." I was like lol? He must've heard wrongly, so I said "You heard it wrongly." Then, someone from my class, it's either Kingston or Qi Han, said the same thing again. I said again, you must've heard wrongly. Then Jun Li saw his crush, and feeling as a friend, I should do something, I said "I sponsor you one flower la." He said ok, and continued fantasizing over her, or ogling at her or whatever. Then, I saw all the P.E teachers sitting together, and I told Kingston "Looks like you're right. They're thinking of a plot to not let us get out of TAF." I forgot what Kingston said, but part of it says that the teachers are carrying out this plan with the canteen stall vendors. It's just a joke. So no offence. Serious. Then fast forward to chemistry, where Ying Ting is asking people to give her money to buy flowers for Arif. Happy Birthday Arif! That is if you read this blog. Bah. Then on to my toilet trip, when Qi Han refused to let me pee. When I'm trying to approach the urinal, he turns and threatens to spray his urine on me. After he peed, my turn. He then attempted to "Clothesline from hell" me, but I turned, without peeing, and he stopped before hitting me. I continued to pee in peace. Back to class, my chinese teacher said some bastard/loser scored full marks in the close passage and the multiple choice comprehension. At that moment, I decided to feel abit "buay hiao bai" and said "谢谢大家！就是我了！“ Then the rest of the people were saying "buay hiao bai la James!" Then, she said "仰光！你这么知道是你呢？“ I was like, wtf? Me? Then she gave back the papers, and she said "仰光!29芬!" I got the shock of my life. It's true that I got full marks for the first 2 sections, but just 9 marks for the killer section. Just 9 miserable marks. Then after school came, and I loaned Kevin's n70 to bitch about. Then I went to Tampines Mall to get Ying Ting's gift, which is Patrick. It's smaller than Jack, but nevertheless, still Patrick. Then I went to eat with Jia Hao and Jun Li. Then on my way home with Jia Hao, 3 losers were practicing their stunts near the road like gangsters. We couldn't press the fucking button to cross, so when the traffic light turned red for the cars, I risked my life and my dick to press the button. I commented that those bikers are low-lifes and they should fall in the middle of the road and get knocked by a car. I'll be standing there grinning, before calling a ambulance. I'm better than Fanny, who grins but won't dial for a ambulance. =D Now, I don't know how to wrap the gift for her. Someone teach me. &gt;.&lt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-113982305517871067?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/113982305517871067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=113982305517871067&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113982305517871067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113982305517871067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/blah.html' title='Blah.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-113971535612721911</id><published>2006-02-12T10:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:09.094+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's day, the day when guys cry for their money and girls shun their ugly dates.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;A post late by two days, and I apologise to any people bothering to come read this blog and yea. I'm gonna update now. I didn't have the mood to blog on Friday due to someone asking me to remove a post. Saturday I was listening to a really nice song the whole day, and thus, conveniently forgetting to blog. And to all readers, please tag at my tagboard before leaving, it'll be highly appreciated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to Valentine's day, where guys spend a exorbitant amount of money on their crushes. For the girls, if their dates are kinda ugly, they will avoid him like they are drooling consistently and have mucus dripping from their noses. Alright, it can't be that serious, but sometimes, even the impossible might be possible. And I'm here to help guys to spend a not-so-memorable Valentine, so you don't have a choice but to read on.&lt;br /&gt;1: Ask the girl if you can be her Valentine. Eliminate all competition before asking her. E.g&lt;br /&gt;Guy: Can you be my Valentine?&lt;br /&gt;Female: But I promised so and so that..&lt;br /&gt;Guy: Screw that guy la. He's in hospital.&lt;br /&gt;Female: Then maybe I'm gonna go for..&lt;br /&gt;Guy: All your yan daos in hospital. So can you be my Valentine?&lt;br /&gt;Female (no choice but has to resign to fate): Fine.&lt;br /&gt;A challenging way to get a date, and it might not work. You can just knock those suckers out, tie them up, gag them and throw them in a broom cupboard. It will be better if you blindfold them.&lt;br /&gt;2: If you got a girl already, then this is a must do step. Buy her gifts, preferably femine gifts. You can also give her condoms, since females love to give each other condoms. I don't know why, but it has been the trend since 3 years ago. And guys, females love the flavour strawberry. Maybe I'm wrong, but I only know of the strawberry flavour. You can also get your dates SM tools, corsets, push-up bras, g-strings and gifts that look femine to you.&lt;br /&gt;3: Next, you must have a credit card that has loads of money inside. Or if you don't want to spend a single cent, you just bring your girl to a deserted place and fuck the hell outta her, using the condom use just bought. (Applies to horny females only. Use with caution. There might be polic nearby.) Cause if you bring the girl to a shopping mall, when they say something looks cute, and you will be tempted to buy that toy for her. Why credit cards and not cash? If you pay via cash, your date can peek into your wallet and determine how rich you are. If you maxed out your credit card limit, you can tell your date on the next purchase that it's your siblings fault, having used the credit card before you used it&lt;br /&gt;4: Bring her to a hawker centre to have meals, instead of high-class romantic dinners. You can tell her it's cheap and the food here is nice. You save a great deal of money than going to those unromantic places. Oh wait. If you go to those places, you can use the lines used by the person on the next table and use i on your date. Useful eh? Of course. Just that when the environment is beautiful, beautiful settings, beautiful food, everything is so beautiful even your faeces in the toilet of that restaurant looks beautiful too. When the bill comes, you're gonna say that the bill looks beautiful, cause it's gonna be at least 2 digits, which is most likely to be 50+. If you don't have the money, yea. This is your best valentine ever. You will be washing dinner plates with your date and look at how she scowls at you. You will feel like chopping off your penis.&lt;br /&gt;5: After dinner, walk her home. If you washed dinner plates with her, you don't get to do this. Why? The moment you get out of the restaurant, she will be screaming vulgarities in your face and be running home. Too bad. If you didn't wash the plates, walk her home to prevent rapists from acting on her. Once you see her to her doorstep, she might give you a kiss as your reward. Then you carry her inside and well. You know it, everyone.&lt;br /&gt;6: Before the clock strikes 12, at 11:59, ask her for stead. You might succeed, cause she is tired and yea.&lt;br /&gt;7: Go to Mediacorp and go to Channel NewsAsia, tell the whole wide world that so and so is your girlfriend and not to F around with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try this methods out, and tell me it works.&lt;br /&gt;Guys will cry for their money and females will avoid their ugly dates. Don't believe me? Wait till Valentine's day.&lt;br /&gt;Same time, same channel, blueundies.blogspot.com&lt;br /&gt;If you people have anything against me, tell me in my tagboard. I'll ignore it and take it that nothing has happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-113971535612721911?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/113971535612721911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=113971535612721911&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113971535612721911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113971535612721911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/valentines-day-day-when-guys-cry-for.html' title='Valentine&apos;s day, the day when guys cry for their money and girls shun their ugly dates.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-113949105941568761</id><published>2006-02-09T19:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:09.017+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A story.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/devil%20may%20cry%203%20special%20edition..jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/320/devil%20may%20cry%203%20special%20edition..jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Yes you bitches, before I start on my story, I recently bought this game and it is kinda cheap, $43. You might be looking at me incredously and saying "James you bitch, so rich ah. $43 dollar thing still say cheap." I'll most probably point a middle finger at you and say that you are one sucker, cause this my favourite game, next to the final fantasy series. If you get bitchfits by seeing this picture, too bad for you. (Ps: It's the original version. Not pirated.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now on to my story. If any character in the story resembles anyone in reality, it's just coincidental. So, read on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was sitting in a sparsely furnished room, staring at the white ceiling. Food wass delivered to her through the dog flap, which her maid pushes in for her. She would just throw her dirty clothing out of the door flap, due to the door being locked from the outside. She was in a family jail, for lying to her parents and committing underaged sex. She was 15, not yet of legal age to have sex as the legal age to have sex is 16. She was punished for 1 year of isolation, unable to talk to anyone except her family members, the maid and the dog that comes in through the door flap to finish the food she is unable to finish. She was denied any human rights, she was a confined bird in a large cage. It all happened after her parents found a condom in a bin in the living room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her boyfriend, which she accepted after much rejection, was a ugly little bastard that only knows how to cheat on his girlfriends. He was well-known for his reputation and the girl knew. She had rejected him many times, but each time when he returned with a more romantic phrase, she would be tempted into giving him a chance. The guy even spent hundreds of dollars on gifts for her, buying whatever she wants. After 5 rejections, the she finally agreed to be his girlfriend. It was a step of suicide for her. She knew the moment she became this guy's girlfriend, she would be one of his girlfriends, giving him money to spend. She was a rich female and her family is rich. Judging from her background, she deserved someone better, but somehow, she was smitten by that guy's lovey dovey words and his very ugly face. She thought it was affinity that brought them together, but it was more like a forced relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After they were a couple for a few months, that guy initiated sex. It seems that he was a horny guy, always lusting for more virgins after he had completed the act with his ex-girlfriends. He was renowned for being to give maximum satisfaction to females, making them excited and craving for more. She heard of this rumours, and having masturbated regularly in the toilet at home, she was hoping that guy would ask for sex soon. She was a horny bitch, but she did not inititate sex or any form of sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few months of their relationship, the guy finally initiated sex and the girl was elated. Real sex beats masturbation, so yea, she agreed. That guy bought a condom, went to her house and fucked the hell out of her. After the act, she disposed the condom in the living room, with the guy's sperms swimming in the condom. When her parents came home, the white plastic thing caught their attention and they questioned her. They questioned her, tortured her mentally and forcing her to spill the beans. Thus, after finding out what happened, they imprisoned her and withdrew her from school. Her parents called the police, arrested the guy for underage sex and..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taadaa. End of story. A lousy story, but the inspiration came deep down from my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-113949105941568761?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/113949105941568761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=113949105941568761&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113949105941568761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113949105941568761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/story.html' title='A story.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-113940070712218314</id><published>2006-02-08T18:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:08.924+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A really dumb day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Look at my title and you know how my day was. Yes, it reads "A really dumb day." So, it means that today is really dumb. Yes. Dumb. It's spelled as D-u-m-b, not some other weird spelling. You ask me what makes the day dumb? It's the people and the mood. But for today, please minus the people, but times the mood by 3. Why is it dumb? I shall explain it to you.&lt;br /&gt;Taf. It's so horrible that I don't feel like talking about it. After TAF, I heard a few boys wanting to pinch each others nipples and squeezing each others balls. I asked Qi Han if he wanted to join in, but he said no. Boo la, Qi Han. As senior, you should show them the correct way of doing it. Then on my way back to class, me and Kingston saw Mrs Vai (or whatever you spell it) and she stopped me. She asked me to remind Qi Han to take his test on recess or he is getting a zero cause she is giving back the test papers today. She then also conveniently mentioned that e5 scored better than us, so Kingston and us were really fuming. Mrs Vai said "What's up?" then we said that we have a feud with them since last year.(I'm kidding about the feud but I'm not sure with Kingston) Then we walked off to the toilet to change. Then it's Mr Shahril's very serious lesson. He taught us the secrets of structured essay through cunningness, he saved 50 dollars. He gave us some German to decipher and blah. We did not win the bet. Boo. I hoped e4 did not win the bet too. =D Then it's chinese. Was dreaming throughout the test, cause I can't give one or two shits about this. I'm labeled as the chinese loser cause I'm in the loser class in InFocus for chinese. Then Pccg, our class got stuck outside Lab D for quite sometime and Mdm Elsie Cheng saved the day. In we went to the Lab and taadaa. We gotta sign in. Then cannot log in. It was Madam Elsie Cheng who saved the day, again. Then, recess. Throughout the whole recess, Jun Li was staring at the backview of Angeline and Melvin was staring at the backframe of Tricia. Speaking of Tricia, she is kinda.. cold. In a way that her smses to Melvin contains two words. Like "Ok lor." all this kind of shit. When we were stuck outside Lab D, she walked past and me and Kingston were shouting "Melvin~~". He gave her a snap, she looked at him, and continued reading her book. Cool. Back to recess. When Angeling walked towards Jun Li, Jun Li went to the bookshop to buy something. Boo~~. Then 1 period of CME, did some things and then it was 4 periods of F&amp;amp;N. No Mrs Abbas, so me, Melvin, Kingston and Qi Han gambled all the way till after school.&lt;br /&gt;Then fast foward to InFocus, where Nick always entertains the females instead of us. Nick is a sexist, Nick is a sexist. =X. Don't punch me Nick. Then Chemistry. I got b4 when I expected F9. Totally unexpected. The crash course with my sister really work wonders. Then me and Kingston did something stupid, which was posing as a reporter and each other parents. After school, I bought a earpiece which is the same as Jia Hao's. Go to Century Square 4th floor, Jade Gift Shop, call the boss boss, buy something from him (must be expensive) and he might treat you to peanuts. Serious. Then me, Kingston and Jun Li went to food junction and eat. When I'm focusing on eating, Kingston kept talking about chio bus. Gay la. People eating you talk about chio bu. Then he went on to buy beverages, and he saw one female whom he claims is hot. We followed them all the way from Century Square to the Mrt. Then Kingston gave up and I walked him home. I lugi. Why you ask me? Cause I didn't get to see the face of the female, her stead's face. Kingston and Jun Li said that I look better than him. Handsome eh? *raises both hands to say thank you to the jeering crowd* Then we talked about the chio bus in our school. Named out a few, and suddenly Kingston said "I want to eat Otah". Like a no link? He bought 3 dollars worth and ate em on the way home. A dumb day right? Yea. And I made up a sex story, which I might publish here tomorrow. Only Jia Hao heard it from me. =D&lt;br /&gt;Same time, same channel, blueundies.blogspot.com.&lt;br /&gt;See you next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-113940070712218314?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/113940070712218314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=113940070712218314&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113940070712218314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113940070712218314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/really-dumb-day.html' title='A really dumb day.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-113931106776785096</id><published>2006-02-07T18:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:08.859+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My funky teachers.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;To all Tampinesians who are stuck in Tampines Secondary School for 4 to 5 years, I'm gonna introduce you the funkiest teachers in the school. There are only 2 in my library, so I'm gonna write about them. Yes, I'm serious so to any teachers who read this blog, you can't sue me cause I ain't insulting any of you. Yes. So don't go up to me, give me a lawyer's letter or something. =D And to english teachers reading this blog, if I make any english or tense errors, please correct me in my tagboard, to the right. If there are no errors, help me sign my orange piece of paper.&lt;br /&gt;Now, on to my funky teachers post.&lt;br /&gt;First person to be recorded in my list, Mr Ranjit Singh. Why him? Cause he is cool.&lt;br /&gt;1st example:&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Teacher, can I loan the OHP in your class?&lt;br /&gt;Mr Singh (To us): Which OHP is spoilt?&lt;br /&gt;Us: The one which is near the door.&lt;br /&gt;Mr Singh: Take that.&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Thank you teacher.&lt;br /&gt;The poor boy must have got a scolding from his teacher for not testing the OHP before loaning it.&lt;br /&gt;2nd example:&lt;br /&gt;Mr Singh: Yong Quan, you smoke right?&lt;br /&gt;Yong Quan: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;Mr Singh: Have you smoked before the camel brand?&lt;br /&gt;Yong Quan: Yes. That brand sucks.&lt;br /&gt;Mr Singh: You know, you can win a ticket. Inside the cigarette box there might be a ticket to tell you that you won the lucky draw. You can go somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;Yong Quan: Go where?&lt;br /&gt;Mr Singh: The place where camels are.&lt;br /&gt;Yong Quan: (Let's out a string of vulgarities under his breath)&lt;br /&gt;Believe it or not, it's up to you. There's one more.&lt;br /&gt;Mr Singh: Do you know why 4e6 is better than 4e2 in english?&lt;br /&gt;4e6: No. Why?&lt;br /&gt;Mr Singh: Cause I didn't teach them last year.&lt;br /&gt;=D&lt;br /&gt;The second funky teacher in my library, is Mr Shahril. Why? Cause..&lt;br /&gt;Geraldine = 20 mb girl/colour coordinator&lt;br /&gt;Jovene = Class spirit&lt;br /&gt;Zafirah = Sharif-&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told us why should females marry the Creative guy, cause he refuses to donate Creative Muvos for our competitions.&lt;br /&gt;He told us funky stories also, like why he lost his hair. If you wanna know why he lost his hair, it is because he used most of it for our school.&lt;br /&gt;Today, he told us 2 funny stories.&lt;br /&gt;Guy (suddenly standing up in the middle of class): Jesus loves you, Mr Shahril!&lt;br /&gt;Mr Shahril: I love you too, now sit down.&lt;br /&gt;2nd story&lt;br /&gt;Mr Shahril (to class): All right, take out your books and start reading.&lt;br /&gt;Guy (fishes out a toy machine gun and shoots the ceiling)&lt;br /&gt;Mr Shahril: Keep that gun lest that ceiling drops on your head.&lt;br /&gt;That guy left school after 2 weeks due to mental problems.&lt;br /&gt;He also cracks jokes in the middle of lessons, making my friend Melvin, the sleeping "beauty", unable to sleep in history and social studies classes anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe it or not, these are my funky teachers. If you think they are not funky, you can take a gun and shoot yourself in the head. Oh. I forgot. Guns are illegal in Singapore. So take a knife and stab yourself, which is also acceptable. As long as you die, it doesn't really matter. Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-113931106776785096?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/113931106776785096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=113931106776785096&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113931106776785096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113931106776785096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-funky-teachers.html' title='My funky teachers.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-113898481434871541</id><published>2006-02-03T23:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:08.515+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My first encounter with Matrix and some OTHER stuff.</title><content type='html'>In this world, the world of Matrix is almost impossible, or rather, impossible cause of the stunts performed by the actors are really fake. Stopping bullets, unbelievable fighting skills and unique stunts that can only be done with your brain. Simply put it, it means only your imagination is capable of that. And today, I've proved the impossible, and even escaped with deep cuts. Impressive eh? Of course. You can ask Kingston, cause he witnessed how I accomplished that task, in a P.E lesson. Of course, I shall begin with the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;Morning, I had to do 75 jumping jacks. Not forgetting my knee injury, it made my legs like jelly. Then, after 2 grueling hours of boredom, P.E arrived. Yes, it happened in this period. I shall go into further detail.&lt;br /&gt;We had to run round the volley ball court, which was a simple feat, but we had to do it in different patterns. It put on the strain on my legs, not the fact that I am fat, just the fact that I have flat feet. Then, volleyball. We have to "dick" the ball, and run in a circuit. It put on a further strain on my legs. Not forgetting I am leading my class to run to telecom next week, I was like, gay.&lt;br /&gt;Then the moment arrived. The performance of Matrix. Don't blink your eyes, as I am gonna describe what happened, in words, no pictures.&lt;br /&gt;Demonstration, me, Kingston and Melvin. We had to "dick" the ball to each other, without letting it fall. Then, the ball fell, and it bounced all the way to the cars. I ran after the damn ball, cursing under my breath that why the ball is round, not square. Then, I tripped over a branch, knocked the car on my right, then did a flip and knocked the car on my left and fell with my limbs on the damn floor. See? Matrix. It takes a tremendous amount of focus to do this, and can only be accomplished by me, James the giant peach.&lt;br /&gt;Qi Han helped me with the bandaging, and I met Cleone. She saw my leg, and said "Who wrap one? So ugly." LOL. For a moment, I was stunned. I decided to put on my long pants, lest people say I'm trying to buy sympathy with my injury.&lt;br /&gt;After school, infocus. Forget about infocus, just for the fact that there are only two females in my class, which is Yuki and Queenie. Yuki I understand, but Queenie? I asked Qi Han, and he said her results not bad. Maybe she is a loser for the new format. Haha, not funny. I've never passed a chinese test last year, so beat it. And Sharon betted with a teacher if she did not buy the chinese workbook by Monday, she would pay for 100 books. One book is roughly 3 bucks, 100 books is 300 bucks. Good luck Sharon, you had better buy a book.&lt;br /&gt;On the way home, Kingston thought of a name to call ourselves. The five horseriders, though I prefer "The Usual 5". We had lotsa ideas, but parted ways when he reached his block.&lt;br /&gt;When it was time to visit, Kingston met me, and I told him he should jio Queenie cause with a King, there should be a Queen. Lol. Melvin's house was a disaster, mine was worser, with Kingston breaking a cup and gambling. Bah. Jia Hao's father was really nice, after we visited his house, he gave us a ride to Ming Han's house. I had the most spacious seat, cause Jia Hao's father insisted I sat in the front. The rest had to squeeze. Ming Han's house was the quickest visit, cause it was late.&lt;br /&gt;Why Melvin's house was a disaster? Cushion fight. I'll show you a formula. Jiahao ---&gt; Kingston = dead Esther. Why? Jiahao threw a cushion to Kingston, and Kingston used the cushion to whack Esther. Simple concept. Then on my way to my house. Jovene, You seriously need new glasses. You can ask other's where I stay, when I am RIGHT in front of you. Gay. Then, I climbed the stairs all the way to the 9th floor, while the rest took the lift to the sixth floor, and climbed 3 floors. Upon reaching my house, they ate then played "Ban Luck". Play play play, until my relatives came. My mom cooked vermicilli, and the rest ate it before continuing. Then suddenly, after the meal, game resuming, someone took my fifty cents. Fine. Then I forgot what Jovene did, then suddenly Kingston crashed a glass. The rest moved into my room and continued there. After that, on to Jia Hao's house. We watched abit of Tv, and someone mentioned why this year got girls. Then Jia Hao said "Ah Pa said he wanted girls to visit." Taadaa. Then talk talk talk, until talking about how to go to Ming Han's house. Jia Hao's father offered to give us a ride, and upon wearing his glasses, and saying "I'm ready.", we laughed. Lol. Then to Ming Han's house, my bag was abit wet. Then I found out that one orange had burst, and my bag was dirtied. Lol. Then climbing all the way to the fifth, with occasional stops to press the up button on the third and fourth level. Then fast forwarding to the end, where I chionged a cab with Qi Ying and Esther.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, there are memorable things that happened.&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not to mention them, lest someone gets angry. Bah.&lt;br /&gt;There are also much more things I want to say, but I'm friggin tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same time, same channel, blueundies.blogspot.com.&lt;br /&gt;Just visit me. *winks*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-113898481434871541?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/113898481434871541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=113898481434871541&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113898481434871541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113898481434871541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-first-encounter-with-matrix-and.html' title='My first encounter with Matrix and some OTHER stuff.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-113888641081852597</id><published>2006-02-02T20:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:08.440+08:00</updated><title type='text'>How I spent my Birthday</title><content type='html'>First of all, I'm emphasizing that it is my birthday, and I'm trying not to make a big hoo ha out of it. Just that there are a few extra things that happened, and I'm not expecting them to happen everyday.&lt;br /&gt;First thing in the morning, my sister was taking the newspaper whacking the lizards that ran past the altar. I thought it was a cockroach, but it was a lizard. Bah. I was mentally prepared for something, which I am mentioning later.&lt;br /&gt;Second thing, I was on the way to school, not meeting the "King", cause he was ps-ing me to meet Ying Ting, Angelina and Jia Hao. Boo la, Kingston. Ying Ting gave me a present, which Angelina claimed to have a share. I didn't care, it was my first birthday present in years. I was happy like shit. Jia Hao warned me about booby traps, and I was aware, really.&lt;br /&gt;Third thing: Recess, hell for me, heaven for Nick, Hidayat, Kingston and Iskandar. Kingston and Nick took a long time to start the ball, and Mr Kenny Tan was aware. Nick EVEN asked him to join in, but he can't cause he is a teacher. So they dragged me outside the class and whacked the fuck out of me.&lt;br /&gt;Fourth thing: After school, Aslam joined in the fun, and then Jia Hao and Ming Han soloed me. Lol. The bash wasn't very.. enjoyable, but still nice. It proves my existence in class. Thank You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ming Han, I'll like to tell you a fact. Guess I better replay the scenario, lest you get confused.&lt;br /&gt;Ming Han: Kai Kai.&lt;br /&gt;Kai Hui: Fuck la.&lt;br /&gt;Ming Han: Ok.&lt;br /&gt;*Kai Hui smiles in the heart a little, before Brenda walks over spouting a bunch of vulgarities*&lt;br /&gt;Brenda: Kaninabei chao cheebye etc etc etc&lt;br /&gt;I'll explain the whole thing, in case you misunderstand. Ming Han calls Kai Hui in a affectionate way, and Kai Hui likes the way, judging from the way Ming Han explains it. Brenda then butts in, scolds Ming Han, like she has a crush on him or she is Kai Hui's guardian.&lt;br /&gt;And her smile, Ming Han, is like.. when you say "Ok", she wants it. Just that, physically she doesn't want it, but mentally she wants it. So walk right up to her, tell her to imagine herself naked, then you, and imagine that something is plunging into her vagina. If anyone reads this content and feel offended, especially the people mentioned in above, you don't have my deepest condolences. Ming Han is a nice guy, just that he has erotic thoughts most of the time. But he is a devoted guy, grab him bitches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-113888641081852597?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/113888641081852597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=113888641081852597&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113888641081852597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113888641081852597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/how-i-spent-my-birthday_02.html' title='How I spent my Birthday'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-113879070932103581</id><published>2006-02-01T18:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:08.305+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Band day.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/scan.jpg"&gt;Today was band day. When I went for my morning work out in TAF, I was wondering around the school aimlessly in the morning. I don't know where the teacher is, and taadaa.. I saw some Band members in their uniforms. In fact, all of them are in their uniforms. I was thinking, why move the equipment/instruments? Then I remembered that it was Wednesday, where the Band members blow the Anthem fast fast and School song fast fast. Then I don't know what happened, and let's fast forward the day to assembly. I want to add the fact that when I reached class, Qi Ying had started her losing streak. I shall comment about this later.&lt;br /&gt;Assembly. All band members are there, waiting to blow/play the things they are supposed to do. Then Mr Neo gave a very inspiring speech which doesn't concern majority of the students. I shall summarise what he said, and basically, he meant "No Chairman = die. You cannot live without a chairman. You will suffer antagonising pain and torture if there is no Chairman." See? I summarised what he said in a few words. Then, the band started playing their songs. I wanted to sleep, but the blaring music/noise kept me awake. Now I understood why the band has never got gold. Too many children folktale songs and blah. Then there was this Goldilocks thing and the guy who was narrating was too soft. LOL. Then came the last song, which was much better than the previous ones. I must say that the clarinet people really have no coordination. Seriously. One turned, the other was in some godforsaken direction. Zzz. There was this teacher conducting shit, and Miss Kaur was the lucky one. Then it was another myriad of folktale songs, which were all jumbled up.&lt;br /&gt;If I'm not wrong, Miss Ho was flirting with the conductor during assembly. Again, I would like to stress that Ming Han would make a better conductor. There's a "intempo 8" this year, and I still have "intempo 7"'s ticket. Here is a picture, in tatters. No before and after to compare, so settle with the after.&lt;br /&gt;*scanning and uploading in progress...*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/320/scan.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here, it's rare ok? Then there was this problem with Melvin. Rumours say that his face matters more than Tricia. Then he said Angeline's stare was terrifying, enough to make a devil cry. Omg, Melvin, you better do something about this. 11 tables away. Scary. He was quiet the whole day.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I shall do a post on how to go on dates, while chasing the "extra" away. Then steads can make out in peace. *Twist*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-113879070932103581?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/113879070932103581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=113879070932103581&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113879070932103581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113879070932103581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/02/band-day.html' title='Band day.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-113871227700566530</id><published>2006-01-31T20:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:08.242+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Chinese New Year</title><content type='html'>Yay. Chinese New Year. The day when most chinese are looking forward to, or most. Like me, for example. Cause this is the time when parents let their hair down and let their kids hanky panky about for the first 3 days of New Year. Of course, there are pros and cons for this festival. Which is all about Money. $$ Yes, money. Why? I shall tell you why.&lt;br /&gt;Pros:&lt;br /&gt;1: Ang Pao time. If you have many relatives, you are gonna receive many, many, Ang Paos. More Ang Pao means more money. So expect smiles on kids faces.&lt;br /&gt;2: You can go to your most hated cousins house and make a hell of a mess in that place. E.g Spill a cup of soft drink on the sofa, have a pillow fight and claim that he started it.&lt;br /&gt;3: If you don't have luxuries in your own home, use your relatives' one! Common sense. If your cousin has a ps2 and you don't have one, you go his house and play until his machine burns.&lt;br /&gt;4: Tidbits! Your relatives will be egging you to finish em, and see how you resist all the nice, nice food which you can eat during New Year.&lt;br /&gt;5: A real nice get-together with long lost cousins.&lt;br /&gt;6: Experience how good your aunt's/uncle's cooking is.&lt;br /&gt;Cons:&lt;br /&gt;1: Ang Paos. If you have very little relatives, you are gonna be sad. Why? Less ang pao, less money. *sobs*&lt;br /&gt;2: If your cousins are as backward as you, there is nothing to do but watch television, only. The only entertainment is your imagination and it really sucks at times.&lt;br /&gt;3: If you are a damn, solid and fucking fat, your parents will be giving you a hard time. They will be watching you, and making it very difficult for you to snatch a bite. However, you can tide over this crisis by buying damn huge pants and clothes. They make you look slim.&lt;br /&gt;4: All your ang paos have only.. $2. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, this is absolute rubbish, it most of the things work for me. Why? Cause I'm good. Get it? I'm good. Now more to my personal life, so shut up and read.&lt;br /&gt;New year's eve. The most disastrous New Year's Eve in my 16 years on Earth. My parents ordered some dumb food from shop and save, and prayed to the almighty Chinese Gods. I don't give a shit to the gods, more to the food. After they prayed, we ate. My parents bought a piece of pork's knuckle, hokkien mee, shark fins and yam.&lt;br /&gt;When you look at the food, you feel like drooling on it. When you put it into your mouth, you feel like spitting it on the food. Yes, it's this bad. If you feel that it is really nice, you can take a knife, stick out your tongue, and lop it off.&lt;br /&gt;We threw away majority of the food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First day of New Year. Nothing much happened, just that one taxi driver cheated me of my money. I couldn't care less, he needs the money to support his family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second day. Must be my most unlucky day. I loaned Devil May Cry 1, and it keeps hanging. Shit. Must I loan from another moron?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third day. My cousins came over, and they just played dynasty warriors and smackdown versus raw. No Kingston, my mom kept the shitty ps2 again. So don't bother coming over. Ok?And she isn't working for the next 7 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone give me Devil May Cry 1 and Devil May cry 3: Special Edition on my birthday. Thank you. I won't love you, but I will definitely not hate you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-113871227700566530?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/113871227700566530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=113871227700566530&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113871227700566530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113871227700566530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/01/chinese-new-year.html' title='The Chinese New Year'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-113844939550550820</id><published>2006-01-28T19:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:08.175+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chinese New Year Concert in Tampines Secondary School</title><content type='html'>"Tampines Secondary School is the cheapest school blah blah blah." That is what my principal says. Oh well, Since he said that, no wonder the concert turned out.. well, bad. The past years concert were bad, but still better. At least they can't make me talk to anyone in front or behind me. This year, it is so bad that I really hoped that I did not submit my english homework, thus having to stay behind in class to finish it or do it. It is that bad, and I am not lying. Those who went will know what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;First item: A chinese opera. The title is "Nezha creating a havoc in the Eastern Sea."&lt;br /&gt;Yes. By seeing this topic, and seeing the word opera, you will know that it is definitely know that what is the reaction of most people.&lt;br /&gt;Me: What am I thinking?&lt;br /&gt;You: Wtf?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Correct.&lt;br /&gt;It is chinese, and it is unfair to our malay friends. They had subtitles, but overall, even reading the subtitles, a malay asked me what are they talking about. No, the malay ain't stupid. It's the person behind the laptop that is stupid. Why? I don't know why, but there are a few possibilities to name out.&lt;br /&gt;1: He is too engrossed with the assholish show, when he must have watched the show a thousand times.&lt;br /&gt;2: He is too lazy to click on the mouse or the buttons.&lt;br /&gt;3: He shortcutted on the subtitles.&lt;br /&gt;4: The subtitles are directly translated from chinese, thus when the malays read it, it makes no sense at all.&lt;br /&gt;5: The malays did not even bother reading the subtitles.&lt;br /&gt;My friend asked me what is the story about, what are they talking about, who is Nezha, is he a boy or girl and why they make such a big hoo ha about him. I wanted to sleep, but Kevin wouldn't let me. You are dead, Kevin. You are so dead.&lt;br /&gt;Second item: Martial arts performance by pros and amatuers in our school.&lt;br /&gt;It is definitely better than the first, cause this is something that everyone can understand. First group includes my friend on stage, giving commands by punching the air. Considering the blunder she made last year, it is much better. Second is the stick performance. It is nice, though I prefer there is another person fighting with her. The third is really nice, waving the sword around. He won a award when he was in secondary one and the MCs were whoring about it. This year, they didn't say anything nice so I suppose he did not win anything.&lt;br /&gt;Third item: The choir singing a New Year Song&lt;br /&gt;I'd love to comment about this. Why? Cause.. I'll explain it now. =D&lt;br /&gt;The conductor, first runner-up of 2004's Tampines idol, Christopher, was the main attraction. You see his ass, and no one is interested in what the choir is singing. If you went to in-tempo 7 in August 28, 2004, you would see a conductor, a REAL condutor. He even has a degree for it. As for another conductor, it would be my friend, Ming Han. If he conducted, it would be totally different. I'd take him then Christopher. Cause he is better, in the humourous side. And Melvin was wowing about Christopher. Shut up Melvin, Ming Han is better, ok?&lt;br /&gt;Fourth item: Commencement of Chinese New Year decorations&lt;br /&gt;My class won hand down. Why? Cause we had no decorations, to start of with. Not even a Ang Pow on a notice board. No one bothered to do, so why bother bringing the darned materials in the first place? Another factor that we won is that our classroom is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very &lt;/span&gt;clean. YES, clean. Very clean. We have sweet wrappers lying all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;Made Jun Li buy vodka for on the way home and finished it all by myself. I wanted to buy the one with 10% alcohol, but it's 7++. So I settled on the 5% alcohol which is 3++. I know I'm cheapskate, but I'm broke. And advice for the day, never drink vodka and eat kitkat. You'll puke. Trust me, cause I've done that. I'm sorry Melvin, cause all I left for you in my bottle was a drop of vodka. Next time I'll sponsor ten cents for you to buy a bottle, kays?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;NowWw dunchh angrii le norhss...&lt;/span&gt; I've stepped out of my league to do this Melvin, so appreciate it. Even if you don't, you still have to. Why? You don't have a reason to. =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-113844939550550820?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/113844939550550820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=113844939550550820&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113844939550550820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113844939550550820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/01/chinese-new-year-concert-in-tampines.html' title='Chinese New Year Concert in Tampines Secondary School'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-113828058383691224</id><published>2006-01-26T20:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:08.114+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Melvin</title><content type='html'>Today, I'm gonna talk about a guy that I have known for my.. fourth year. I'm not gonna talk about his past, nor his future. I'm gonna talk about the present, which is today, Thursday, 26 of January. I ran out of ideas, so this gave me the opportunity to, talk something dumb.&lt;br /&gt;Recess, I ate with Melvin, and Jun Li and Ming Han joined us afterwards. Then, Tricia, Melvin's girlfriend arrived with her gang of friends, sat at the next table. If you people didn't get it, it means the table beside our table. BESIDE. Jun Li and I wanted Melvin to go off with Tricia, cause it might be a nice spectacle to see. Not funny, but watching Melvin interact with her gives me the laughs. A habit, I guess. Then I noticed something. There is a distance between her and Melvin, an estimated distance of.. 1 to 2 metres. We then trashed talked about Melvin's ex-crushes, and Kingston, who came by much later, made sure that Tricia heard what he said. Then Ming Han made a comment about her friend with I won't want to comment about. No, don't go asking me. The end of canteen shit, now on to the next shit.&lt;br /&gt;When we reached the third floor, Jia Hao took some money from Angelina and gave Melvin ten bucks. Ying Ting then went to Melvin and searched his breast pocket. I don't know why, Melvin suddenly shouted: "Touch my neh neh, 非礼啊！" In english, it's: "Touching of my boobs, molestation!" In malay, it's: "Pegang aku punya tetek, cabul!" For Tamil and and Indian, don't know, cause I don't have Indian friends. I learned another phrase too, don't get offended, you can use them on a chinese, for chinese. Read, :"Chee bye aku rogol mak kau baru kau tahu pala puki." Read it out loud, tell that to a chinese and let him guess what you mean when you don;t even know what is the meaning.&lt;br /&gt;Here's the translation: "Vagina I molest you mother than you know you fuck face." I learnt this from, obviously, a MALAY. My malay is good enough to flunk the Primary 1 exam with a nice, fat, zero. 0. It's 1-1=0, ok? Not o, 0! Ok?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-113828058383691224?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/113828058383691224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=113828058383691224&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113828058383691224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113828058383691224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/01/melvin.html' title='Melvin'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-113810520696033722</id><published>2006-01-24T20:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:08.044+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The ways to woo a male.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This entry is done to ensure that the females will not call me a sexist, and done for Gays and Transvestites, so be happy. I'm usually not so generous.&lt;br /&gt;Step 1: Be his friend. (Obvious) If not, walk up to the guy you don't know, but like him cause he is cute or handsome, with a gang of Ah Lians, and tell the guy you like him, and you want to stead with him, and give him 10 seconds to say a "Yes" or "No". If the guy says no, rape him or shout that he molested you. Or you can get the Ah Lians to scratch the fuck outta his face and make no girl fall for him ANYMORE. The risk is that you might get charged for assault and made to live in the girls home.&lt;br /&gt;Step 2: Never be his best friend, cause.. read my previous entry. Get to know him, not too much, just a little bit will do.&lt;br /&gt;Step 3: Don't be shy to ask him out for a walk, and be FLEXIBLE. Don't be afraid to start a dumb conversation. This method can also be used to find out the guy you love reaches your standards. E.g Is he gentlemanly enough, rich enough, very good skills to satisfy you on the bed. =X oops. Girls are hard to satisfy sometimes. You can let the guy know you like him, he won't avoid you unless you don't have the looks. In this situation, sit at home, go bittorrent, find gay porn and download it. It might give you a few seconds of enjoyment, soon you will be craving for more. Scary, but true.&lt;br /&gt;Step 4: You can call the guy, to make sure he doesn't get the chance to flirt with other females on the phone at night. Guys are not weird at night, just bewildered by the fact why you call him, and boosting your chances by a VERY big percentage of 0.01%. You can also send twitish goodnight sms-es to him, giving his friends a good impression of him. You can also flirt with another guy, and hope that the guy doesn't spread the shit around. Rumours spread like wildfire, see?&lt;br /&gt;Step 5: If the guy is starting to date you, here's your chance. Flip open the dictionary, look for very "chim" words, be it any language, use your girly charm, your best twitish language and ask him. If you ask him on the spot, he might have a less chance to reject you. If you sms him, he might not reject you, cause you might slander him and he might never get a girlfriend anymore. BAH.&lt;br /&gt;Step 6: When you two are on dates, try to strike up conversations cause I've seen a case whereby the couple broke up due to one another being too.. well, quiet. As long you talk something sensible, (other than your darned CCA. Who is interested in that?) nothing wrong should happen. Unless.. quarrels like the guy not being able to satisfy you in bed, well, get viagra, stuff it down his mouth and it should do the trick. Otherwise get yourself a dildo and finger yourself all night long in the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;Step 7: If you broke up with him, go to the general office, use the mic and announce that you have broken up with him, and you don't love him anymore. A better way is to pay Straits Times to publish a coloumn, saying that you don't love that dumb dick anymore. You can also appear in channel NewsAsia, and tell eveyone in Singapore and become a celebrity overnight. You can also make use of the opportunity to tell everyone who you like. A good chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try this steps, females. And tell me, it DOES work. Ok? Ok.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-113810520696033722?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/113810520696033722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=113810520696033722&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113810520696033722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113810520696033722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/01/ways-to-woo-male.html' title='The ways to woo a male.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-113801963319276063</id><published>2006-01-23T20:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:07.970+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The ways to "jio" (woo) a female (James version)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This post is done in response to Melvin's blog. Cause he hasn't been updating, I assume he has abandoned it and it would not hurt to take some things from his blog and use them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I agree with Melvin in some aspects, and disagree with him in some aspects cause he does them in a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;TOTALLY different way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Those who have known him for quite some time should know this fact. Yep.&lt;br /&gt;Step 1: Be her friend. What else could you do? Give her 50 bucks and make her agree everything you say? E.g&lt;br /&gt;Male: "I give you 50 dollars. Whatever I say, just agree. Ok?"&lt;br /&gt;Female (seeing opportunity to earn easy money): "Sure."&lt;br /&gt;Male: "Say I love you."&lt;br /&gt;Female: "I love you."&lt;br /&gt;Male: "Stead with me."&lt;br /&gt;Female: "Ok lor."&lt;br /&gt;Male: "Let's break up."&lt;br /&gt;Female: "Anything."&lt;br /&gt;Male: "Now give me back my fifty bucks.", leaving the girl confused and pondering what had she done wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Step 2: Never be her best friend. If you are in that stage, YOU ARE SO SCREWED. Yep, screwed. Cause you know too much about the girl and during dates, you might talk the usual shit, forgetting she is your girlfriend, but your best friend. E.g, you bring her to a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really &lt;/span&gt;romantic dinner, and you talk the usual shit you talk about as best friends. AND not forgetting you know too much about her, she knows too much about you, too. Exceptions do happen, and that happens with moronic people like, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my sister&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Step 3: Don't let the girl know you like her. If she knows, she will avoid you like you got bird flu, Sars, Dengue fever or a naked man running amok, with your dick hanging around showing the whole wide world. And for this stage, I seriously recommend Melvin's skills. He had even fooled me, someone who mixed with him in school everyday, by saying he loves her, then another female, then suddenly steads with Tricia, catching her TOTALLY off guard. I call those girls that Melvin used, diversion girls. Why the name diversion girls? Cause they are used to mislead us. Cunning, Melvin, cunning. *&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;rolls eyes*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step 4: Never call the girl, cause I heard girls are really weird when you call them, especially at night. Also don't send them goodnight sms-es, cause if she is really popular, you are just wasting your darned money, which you can use it to flirt with another girl. =X oops.&lt;br /&gt;Step 5: If the girl is interested in you, or if you think so, just do it. Just do your many patterns, and pray to all the Gods, E.g Jesus, Allah, Shiva or any chinese god and pray that the girl will not reply a No, I'll consider and whatever phrase that says no. They might be beating about the bush saying that you're a nice guy, but you're not the type for her. PATTERN MORE THAN BADMINTON. There might be more "chim" words involved, so you gotta check the dictionary, while the girl uses the time to pack her things and elope with some dumb yandao.&lt;br /&gt;Step 6: If she rejects you, look for a new pasture and start afresh or you can be a low-life and think about her when you masturbate. This method are for low-lifes, not for playboys or "chiongsters". If you are looking for a new pasture, act like you are very depressed, and not like somebody or you can secretly love someone in secret. Take a few months, and then you can go to the general office, use the speaker to tell every single in school that you don't like the person you love before, and you love the new person. Make sure everyone knows, even the old uncles and aunties that wash the toilet in school.&lt;br /&gt;Step 7: If you want to woo another female, refer to step 1 again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks Melvin, for having written this article to help me with this.. entry. I love you, but I don't want your kisses. Save 'em for your girl, ok? She might be jealous. LOL. I'm kidding.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-113801963319276063?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/113801963319276063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=113801963319276063&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113801963319276063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113801963319276063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/01/ways-to-jio-woo-female-james-version.html' title='The ways to &quot;jio&quot; (woo) a female (James version)'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21304081.post-113793515756449692</id><published>2006-01-22T20:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T19:59:07.897+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why my link is so dumb.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/1600/vergil_final_black.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6156/2153/400/vergil_final_black.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. People might be thinking, of all links, why must James choose such a dumb... well.. link? Cause he has no creativity? No brains or his brains are placed in the ass? If you have such moronic thoughts, you are dumb. I know I'm damn lame, but I really have no idea what link to give my blog. Bernice suggested "thatx-me", but it's hers. I looked around my room, desperate to get any inspiration or idea. Then i saw my underwear. BLUE. Then without knowing, I typed "http://blueundies.blogspot.com" and well, here you are. I actually wanted tenyearseries, but blogger knew better and refused that link. Shit. I know this is a dumb post, but I need to read fannyowemoney.blogspot.com to get more inspiration. He's my idol in the blogging world. And females, here's a "yandao" for you all to drool and masturbate for:&lt;br /&gt;(He's really powerful, yea?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21304081-113793515756449692?l=blueundies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/feeds/113793515756449692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21304081&amp;postID=113793515756449692&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113793515756449692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21304081/posts/default/113793515756449692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blueundies.blogspot.com/2006/01/why-my-link-is-so-dumb.html' title='Why my link is so dumb.'/><author><name>Unwilling person</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01126510976090628920</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://i49.photobucket.com/albums/f290/borobodur/JamesPoh.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
