the painful truth.

The other day Shalini and I went to Raffles City. We saw this elderly disabled man on a motorized wheelchair and on that wheelchair there was this monogram print that repeated one word in the name of a design.

And that one word was Karma.

viva la espanol.

His armband proved he was a red

Torres, Torres

'You'll never walk alone', it said

Torres, Torres

We bought the lad from sunny Spain

He gets the ball, he scores again

Fernando Torres, Liverpool's number nine!

na nar na nar
na nar na nar
na nar na nar
na nar na nar

Fernando Torres, Liverpool's number nine!

oh gosh.

I'm pretty tired of watching promising female tennis talents loosing their touch on court thanks to distractions.

The papers following the first day of the lawn open was going gaga over Maria's new top, too bad it was pretty much short lived with her getting a perfect asswhooping. I mean, haven't they learnt from previous heroines to flops like, Hingis's famous shades, the Williams sisters/brothers love for bling blings and the biggest clown of them all Anna Kornikova, who despite her publicity is yet to win a tittle.

I'm sure there was a reason why Agassi ditched his elton john crucifix ear rings and long hair after a while. Okay fine he was balding, but still, he got way better when he dressed himself in plain old cotton clothes. Tsk Tsk.

Look at Steffi Graf, a legend of our time, she played her tennis, won everything there was and now she can do all the fashion shoots she wants cause she's a happy mom, retired with all that winning money. When will they ever learn.

the late 80s.

Just when I thought the new home kit looked old school enough, resembling a bit like the infamous necked late 90s jersey, LFC decided to release their new away kit. It reminds me big time of Johnny Barnes and Mr Bruce Grob in the super early 90s.

8

It has been 8 months since we took that long aimless walk and suddenly found ourselves at Desouza St.

I know that walk was worthwhile today.

I know.

riise!

Good bye to the lad who gave us all enough bruises copying your heroic celebrations. I will remember you for your thunderbolt free kick against United and your volleys on other occasions which broke several hearts including that of Rijkaard.

The Chick Sex Centre Continues.

If you remember my old post about annoying campers in my house, well... things haven't changed too much. This time 3 clowns came instead of the usual pairs. A stubborn man who insisted on sleeping on the floor landed himself the honor of throwing me to the pull out sofa in the hall for 4 days while he slept in my room.

He claimed that all he needed was a pillow and nothing else. He even threw aside my blanket and extra huggable accessories claiming he just needed that pillow. A bored me at half time during one of the Euro matches sneaked to my room to see his nicely wrapped in my blanket.

Thank god they've finally left!

The list of these clowns just go on.

noise.

There were days when I chose to wear plugs while at gates whenever the F 16s screeched off into the horizon.

There were other days when I grumbled half asleep when I was awoken thanks to the same machines.

These days, I pause in the comfort of my office and leak the slightest of smiles whenever I hear them zoom by.

squeezed.

I just got my invoice from BBDC yesterday. I calculated some figures and it sucks to know I paid $1800 for my license.

the civilian conversion course.

I promised myself that this post would be up the day I ORD'd but settling myself down and coping with my job at Blue River Pictures till Uni starts have been preventing me the luxury of time till now. I wanted to type a super long post but I guess maybe I should keep it short to prevent sending the women to sleep with unknown jargon and also to prevent the potential of some MP knocking at my door for leaking something unknowingly.

2 years in the army have finally passed. Some bitter. Some sweet. Most of it a drag though. I know I've learnt a lot, from random weapons I don't think I would ever see again to plain bold selfishness that we humans hide somewhere within us. Looking back now, I'm pretty much surprised at some of the stuff I managed to do, yet it's something I wouldn't wanna do again.

It's weird how I spent 2 years dying to ORD and grab my IC back and shit like that, yet the day flew by faster than ever and the emotions I expected hardly came about. Now that I'm working and the daily cycle has changed, sometimes when I'm bored, I remind myself that I've ORD'd just to feel good.

I made some great friends and saw the best of bastards amongst my superiors regardless of age. Some of whom I would love to bump into on the streets, some that I would rather avoid for their safety. I don't know if these guys will stay in touch or if I would ever see them again, but then again I know I would never forget them after the great n horrid times we had together.

Green Day. This song was renditioned by two space monkeys during my OC night. It gave me the chills and froze all of us for a couple of seconds. Just a guitar and another's voice. Finally... ORD loh!