Digressing as usual...

What am I doing?

I should be working on another assignment. But instead, I am merrily playing useless online games.

Here are my 5 top picks.

1. Penguin Bashing (Thanks Indian Stallion for the link! See ya when I get back to Singapore)
2. Dancing Upon My Enemy's Grave or Dilbert does the dirty work. It takes a while, but its worth it. Any one noticed how much I like Dogbert?
3. The ever classic Insaniquarium!!! Grow fish, feed fish with fish, watch them shit gold, fight aliens that eat your fish and best of all, a mermaid that sings and makes your fish crap even more gold!
4. What else do people like other than sharp wit and humor? Sex! NAKED CHICKS! Wasted 45mins playing this. I managed to hump the girl in the end. My tip? Earn lots of money, drink LOADs of beer and work out. Ganguro girls in the dating sim world dig muscley, rich, brainless men.
5. Not really a game site. Just really really funny. I don't know why, and I don't mean to be racially offensive, but hearing a little Japanese family calling each other 'Nigger', is dead funny. I watched it twice. Watch for the bit with the daughter, talk about motivation!!

Anyway, this being over. I wonder how many copyrights I have violated by putting this up. I have to share it. Dogbert is my hero. Plus Scott Adams deserves all the credit. Just some free advertising. Visit www.dilbert.com for all your boredom-canceling needs.

Needless to say, the last pic is currently my wallpaper. My little Catholic soul could not resist some protection from the patron saint of nice people constantly tormented by stupid people. I should put Saint Dogbert's medal on my car as well.

I think St Christopher just lost a job.

When does it end?

"I believe in karma. That means I can do bad things to people all day and assume they deserve it." - Dogbert

Assigments, assignments, assigments, HOW I DETEST THEE!

My lime scented candle is the only thing keeping me awake. I need to do work. My eyes are bleary, my eyelashes try to cling on for support, my eye lids so heavy, it feels like the bloody albatross. The albatross on my eyelids, the grindstone upon my neck. A reference to the poem 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner' by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, in which the character who shot an albtross is obliged to carry the bird hung around his neck.

`God save thee, ancient Mariner !
From the fiends, that plague thee thus !
--Why look'st thou so ?'
--With my cross-bowI shot the ALBATROSS.
...
Ah ! well a-day ! what evil looks
Had I from old and young !
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung.

A bit of poetry there for ya.

Remember in Monty Python where John Cleese is wondering around the auidence in a dress and screaming ' albatross'? I like Monty Python. I need sleep and I must do without. Why?

I'm on a roll. My dead brain is somehow inspired. I'm writing, and a break is in order cos I'm hungry. My eyes jus want to close on me but I need to work.

Im repeating myself. Oh well.

Another boring post. I shall soon start with mindless dribbling.

Today I brought a desk. It is 80cm by 40cm. I put it in the uppermost right hand corner of my room. It sits against the wall.

*sigh* I will never write like that.

Getting DISTRACTED!

"I believe in karma. That means I can do bad things to people all day and assume they deserve it." - Dogbert

Isn't it amazing how, you have good intentions to do work, but somehow, in the great scheme of things, seem to get real distracted by boredom?

That is what is happening to me now. 0240 hours. I actually found my ex's blog. It's hell funny and makes me wonder what I saw in the guy. It's a strange read cos he was my first serious boyfriend. At 24, he's still as shallow as he will ever be. Constantly complaining about the lack of bikinied babes. Men, I know, will agree with him. But, sheesh, you can talk about other things on your blog. Women in bikinis are not the only things in the world that are important.

Realising I am being the sad blogger who writes too many entries in too short a time span. I can't help it. I love writing and I just want to share the pain, I meant joy... around the place. I don't even know why I bothered reading it. Oh yeah, I was bored. It entertained me slightly for a while.

But he and I have a history. It's funny to think of it now. But one day, I can bet my bottom dollar, he will come back, crawling and begging to speak to me. It may sound a bit egotistical, but I know I have the power. To help him find a bit of peace. It won't be in 5, 10, 20 years, but probably after then. He will hunt me down to speak to him.

Why am I going on about this? I don't think we ever loved each other. We were too young. And foolish. He's not a bad guy, just not the brightest crayon in the box. It's always this time of the year. In April, June, September, January. These are the hardest months of the year. And 4 months out of 12 is pretty bad odds. The other 8 months arn't the best either.

Thank God I don't have a boyfriend. The poor guy would end up as dysfunctional as me.

But if you are reading this Tim, I speak the truth. You know it. You know how to find me. And I do forgive you.

It's just that you and me have different definitions on love.

To quote Mr. T, "I pity the fool!"

There's gonna be a new anti-rape condom. It was invented by a South African woman(duh, the inventor is female). It slips in like a tampon and acts like a condom. It has little hooks and can only be removed via surgery.

The report said it would only aggravate the attacker. But in a country where an estimated 50,000 rapes happen each year (some say the numbers are greatly underestimated due to many unreported rapes), I think any form of protection is good.

It looks a little bit like some medivael torture decive, like a mini Iron Maiden. I always liked the concept of the Iron Maiden, sticking little holes into a person. Death with the slam of a door. Bits get skewered, organs shish-kebabed. Exciting stuff.

But there is a point to this. Men who hit, rape or abuse (emotionally and physically) women deserve to die. A long slow horrible death. They should have their hearts pulled out through their asses, and then stick their pin-stick penises up the bleeding concave. Force their little friends into blow-up dolls filled with glass shards, and while they cry over their shredded little bits, I shall periodically stub out my cigerettes on their eyes. The moisture should put them out.

I don't mind prostiution. If it's done by the girl's own free will. That is fine. It's your body, you have a right to earn a living with it. We all use our bodies to earn money. You use your hands to type, don't ya? I'm sliding off topic. But the women deserve to earn lots of money, cos of the business risks.

Anyway, I cannot stand people who abuse people or animals weaker than themselves. Nothing lower than a man who hits his dog, or who beats up his 3 week old baby. Babies, til 3 months, stay where you leave them. So therefore, they cannot roll over and 'fall' off any table top. Babies with cracked ribs... *grrrrrr* And animals. We have more power than animals. Therefore, we must be the ones to protect them.

But I agree the law sucks. A man who abuses his dog, if caught, cannot legally have any animal for 10 years (might be wrong with time frame). But, caught abusing a child, nothing is stopping him from impregnanting any female and having more target practice. Why? We can stop people from having pets but we can't stop people from having children.

Anyway, I hope the anti-rape condom is widely avaiable soon. Women need what little protection they can get. I know many 'I-have-a-vagina-and-im-proud-of-it' women. But the greatest thing about now, is that women have a choice.

We tend to forget that was what feminism was after. Some women still do not have a choice. But we need to let them have a voice.

French Boyband!

"I believe in karma. That means I can do bad things to people all day and assume they deserve it." - Dogbert

I'm in heaven. French boyband. People know my soft spot for the French.

Oo la la... French Guy! *swoon*

Anyway, Tahiti 80, cheesy soul-like music. I like. Currently listening to 'Things are made to last forever'.

The guy called Xavier Boyer is real cute. I'm a sucker.

He's French, dark, CURLY hair, looks lost and dumb. I like the dumb looking ones. He does vocals but the site doesnt really have a good picture of him.

I shall sleep.

I crave the French men.

*drooooooooool , lust*

Mending fences... Burying the hatchet... To forgive divine...

"I believe in karma. That means I can do bad things to people all day and assume they deserve it." - Dogbert

And all the other literary clichés that one can think of. Yesterday was a day of settling the past. Or some of it anyway. Misunderstandings are all settled, and we can breathe easy once again.

It amazes how fast a year goes. Twelve months, three hundred and sixy five days... It swims by, and I hardly even take note. Half the year has almost gone since my 'fallout' with the guys. Chris, Wally, Daniel, Ross, Martin, and Darna (being the only female, still somehow considered a guy). I used to chill almost every night with Chris aka Poopise, Wally, Ross and Martin. Then, suddenly they were gone.

I spent a lot of the year trying to forget. Why? I tend to have 'stick-head-in-ground-til-its-over' syndrome. I realised if you ignore it long enough, it goes away. Like children wanting candy. But I have almost always gotten along better with guys.

Well, basically, I did things, they got a bit obsessed with the band, things got messy (several relationships there) and people got pissed off. Everyone tended to blame everyone else. Everyone took another's actions personally. "He did that to hurt me etc etc"

I didnt. I hid. I didn't think about it. And it's all coming back, in a wave. It crashes against me and wonder where time went. I think, one reason why we didn't hang out was also because of my ex, Adam. He never let me out of his sight with them. They were my buddies, nothing sexual there, AT ALL.

As things go, they went messy. But we spoke, the important people. The ones whom I was closest to anyway, Chris and Wally.

We cleared the air, explained, forgave, hugged and made up. Forgiveness or even just discussing an issue, can make life so much easier. I breathed a lot easier, I was 'forgiven'.

Not that there was anything to forgive. I'm glad the bad blood is gone.

And on a random side note, who are these annoying people leaving comments? I mean the ones who say "OHHH wat a great blog, I shall bookmark it but click on my link which I am promoting miricle medical cures/porn/online casinos/online degree"

Who are these people? Or machine things??? I like compliments but I would rather get it from a person who breathes, eats and farts like the rest of us.

Forgive me, I couldnt' help putting the word 'fart'.

My sense of humor is peaking at a chronological age of about 5.

The Green Fairy Vs the Green Fairy... Guess who won?

"I believe in karma. That means I can do bad things to people all day and assume they deserve it." - Dogbert

Why do I even bother drinking? I'm allergic to alcohol for feck's sake. But yes, what did I indulge in? The green fairy did what the green fairy shouldnt do.

Yes, the wife is holding the poison. It's illegal back in Singapore (I think, everything interesting or slightly fun is banned) so I decided, why not? Now I know why not.

It's a mild version of the european one. Absinthe has its roots in the French part of Switzerland. The european versions can have up to 90% alcohol content. Mine was a light 68%. It was also made not in europe, but in Africa. Woo hoo. I honestly wouldnt recommand it.

But hey, it's your funeral.

I think, I should, sleep. Again. It's terrible the high it gives you. It does almost make you see stars.

But I have to explain, I'm not called the green fairy because of Absinthe. I call myself that because there is a children's book called "Fern the Green Fairy".

So yes, its not as glamourous, but it'll have to do.

Love comes in many forms...

I find myself falling in love again.

My brother sent this picture of my Patches. She's about 15 years old. She looks fantastic for an old dog.

Looking at her, I remember when she stole my heart. Her brown eyes and smile. My heart beats.

I'm so in love with her. I'm madly in love with my Patches. She's the perfect doggie.

I love her and miss her so much, I could cry.

Life is funny sometimes...

"I believe in karma. That means I can do bad things to people all day and assume they deserve it." - Dogbert

Tis funny. Was reading my old blog on friendster, I changed cos it had a photo upload limit and was so painfully slow it made my boobs hurt. It was taking a small stroll down memory lane. A lot more personal. People who want to read it, go ahead. It's still full of spelling and grammatical mistakes. Just like this one.

My blogspot is screwing with me. Refusing me to let me post up pictures.


Now its behaving. I saw this in 'cheap as chips'. Jacker chips! Original JACKER chips. Am i the only one with a dirty mind? My toilet humor meter went through the roof as I stood there laughing.

My concubine, Rita, was not impressed with me. It says Jacker on the can. I refused to buy one, one wonders what lies within the can.

And suddenly, Adelaide is aburst with cherry blossoms. I'm actually not sure if they really are, but it's something pink and bush-like. It's very pretty. The asian in me came out, rushing to take pictures of me next to them. I think they are very pretty. Makes everywhere I drive into an anime. I sat under one of them yesterday, with my phone posed, ready for action. I was waiting to catch the perfect 'anime moment'. You know the one, something dramatic happens, or the hero touches the girl's hair, and without warning, a breeze blows, and cherry blossoms fall. Like a declaration, a curtain of it comes in view and 'snap'. The perfect anime moment. My breeze didnt come that day. But once I get my trotters on a digital camera, I will. One day.

Thanks to wifie for some great pictures. Milla is a great photographer. I am not. It's my strange useless skill. I have the ability to take the worst pictures in the world. I make people cross-eyed. Take them at the worst possible angle, make everyone look like they have a disabilty.

Adelaide can look pretty if its taken from afar. Or seen in pictures. The River Torrens is a nice place for summer. Picniking, cycling, strolling. Feeding the ducks, geese and pelicans.

*sign* Adelaide, it's a love-hate relationship.

More hate than love mostly. But, it's sorta my home now.

Who the heck am I again?

"I believe in karma. That means I can do bad things to people all day and assume they deserve it." - Dogbert

Ever had a day where you don't recognise yourself?

You wake up, floss, brush, rinse, take a shower. And when you catch yourself in the bathroom mirror, you wonder, who the fuck am I?

What the fuck am I doing here? Where the fuck am I heading in my life? Am I who I believe myself to be, when did I turn into the person I want people to see?

I always joke and talk about my addiction to cigs and I do enjoy a good beer. But, I have regressed into a social smoker. And I wonder if I ever was a 'serious' smoker. I can go without a smoke for days, then suddenly smoke 1/4 of a pack, having coffee with a friend.

Smoking used to be a big part of me. I love the feel nicotine gives you. I have always hated the smell of smoke, but I love the shapes and swirls smoke takes on. The whisps and circles. I was a chimney. I used to be one.

But smoking was a part of my identity. It was what people associated me with. And now, I don't really smoke anymore. I'm more dressed up, (for fuck's sake, i use eyeliner), wear heels and I tone, cleanse and moisturise my skin. I'm no longer the grungy, daggy, girl I used to be.

I was a cargo pants and tshirt sort of chick, sports shoes, thongs (as in slippers, flips flops, not the underwear bit). I wear thongs now! G strings, as in underwear. I confuse myself.

I have pretty pink things to sleep in, I worry about my bra and undies matching. I'm losing who I thought I was. I don't even really drink coffee anymore.

I used to live on cigs and coffee my first year in Australia. I chose coffee and cigs over food.

I'm becoming more cynical, more jaded.

I had an interesting comment on my blog the other day. I deleted it in anger, if its you, write another one. It basically had the gist of, if i recall, "Your blog is so me-myself-and-I. You are a selfish writer and a bad one too. You never comment about current issues or anything but just write about yourself. It's boring and I hate it etc etc etc" I'm not quoting. I'm just writing what I remember.

Ok, so I talk about myself. A lot. It's MY blog. MINE! MINE! MINE!

Not asking anyone to like it, let alone read it. I'm still mildly suprised when people tell me they read my blog.

Here, in the semi-anonymous world of the internet, I can sorta be myself.

I'm just showing one strange side of my personality. We make a team, my personalities and I. You want polite? Switch to 'cupping-balls-of-lecturer' mode. You want peeved? Switch to "you-mean-i-get-5-pieces-of-chicken-for-$6". Actually a true story. Never quite been so bitchy in my life.

So maybe, me, being me, means not being me all the time. It's a team effort. We all take turns on the playing field. Those better ones get left out to bat longer. Bad ones get disqualified, but throw a fit and return later after being suspensed for a while. The referee continues blowing the whistle. I have no idea how I, being a non-sports fan, used a sports analagy for me.

But as House said, "There's no 'I' in team. But if you shuffle the letters around, there's a 'ME'."