12.51

Its Wednesday
It’s the middle of the week.
The middle of the ‘term break’
What a farce.

Ive been to school everyday.
More often than normal term time.

I hate university cos school work is always on my mind.
Its hella annoying.

Its like you cant do anything without thinking to yourself…
“hey should I be studying instead of doing this?”

its messed up I tell ya.
but we get on with it.

Life is hectic in the business faculty.
Time flies.
Lectures are conducted at high speeds.
Tutorials whiz by.
Amidst all this, you’d probably wanna grab a bite of food right?
Lets see what food we have at our disposal.

Vietnamese stall (of doom)

To be honest, ive never eaten here. Everyone warns me about it.
One of my friends says the number of missing Vietnamese kids in ho chi minh city is directly proportional to the increasing varieties of “meat soup” being offered at this stall.
*shudder*
the pictures are of strange looking meats, combined with weird greenish rice.
I don’t know maybe its tasty.
But if I have to stand in a queue full of Vietnamese and Cambodian ppl, and I aint bein racist, but they have the single most annoying tone/manner of speaking I have ever heard.
It makes me wanna give the dude a right hook on his pockmarked face.
The boy wonder has a ploy though.
If I ever do eat there, and I see that the queue is too long, ill simply sneak up on the viets and shout:

“landmine!”

sending them scampering.
And leaving me….victorious.

Yong tau foo stall (fag alert)

Which self respecting -filled red-blooded male, would be caught with a bowl of watery soup (of unknown origin) and a few pieces of tofu and vegetables?
Not this superhero for sure.
Carrying a bowl of this stuff screams the word ‘fag attack!’
Why don’t you just wear a pink thong and nipple rings?
At least that’d be more discrete.

Chicken rice stall

This is my personal fave.
The simple reason being that its cheap and you know what to expect.
I mean seriously, its kinda tough to go wrong with chicken rice isn’t it?
“ahhh the chicken...i was expecting tender quail meat…and the rice…i prefer organically grown brown rice”
mate, for $1.50, you should be happy youre getting anything.
I like to add a hash brown to my chicken rice.
My friends have commented that this is a peculiar habit.
I don’t know, somehow seeing a hash brown on my chicken rice makes me feel like it’s a huge plate of food.
It makes me so satisfied.
Like paris hilton after a rhinoplasty
[that is the coolest word ever.they should rename liposuctions to ‘hippoplasty’]
And the queue is never ever long.
One time I stood in the queue and thought,
“lord that woman is massssive!!! im talking like the size of an oil tanker.”
And after that, I thought,
“why the hell is the queue so long today?”
till I realized I was in the wrong queue.
I was in the queue for…

Western food stall (next please,mofo!)

The most popular stall in the business faculty.
The queue is perennially long.
They serve pretty basic ‘western food’, ie pasta, chicken cutlet, French fries, sausages, etc.
The fashionable people of business always eat from here.
Though the women like the healthy sandwiches a lot more.
Makes ‘em feel like theyre part of the O.C or something.
Bimbos.

The thing to note about this stall is the owner.
I forget his name.
Hes a Chinese fellow.
Hes educated and speaks good English.
But when you are in the queue, he does the scariest thing.
He goes down the queue, person-by-person, saying “next please!”
So youre supposed to shout out your order when he points at you.
The first 17 times he did to me, I just looked at him, stunned.
Next please what?
He gives you a 3second window, then says “never mind.take your time (you dickhead).next please”
Seriously, I cant take this kinda pressure.

Recently, I went well prepared.
I hid behind the fridge where the sandwiches are stored.
And read the menu carefully.
I decided on a chicken cutlet.
I confidently stood in the queue.
‘bring it on you nazi you’
he slowly approached me as he went person by person.
Next please! Next please!
Ha! Bring it on, captain pressure.
Two more.
One more.
The girl in front of me goes
“atlantic salmon with lemon”

He comes to me…
“next please!”
ha!
Its my turn!
The boy wonder’s turn!
Crap!!!!!!
What did I want to order?!
Chicken something I know its chicken something!!
He goes… “yes?”
3-2-NO! I refuse to be bypassed!
I rack my brains to think of any western food name I remember.
And then it comes out.
“atlantic salmon with lemon!”

“ok!next please!”

argh!!!!
I HATE fish!

Don’t even think of changing your order after you’ve placed it dude.
You’ll end up as a piece in his ‘unknown substances gravy’.
Its this gravy that looks oh-so-dodgy.
Everyone tries to avoid it, but cant.
“no gravy please!”
“ah come on have a little bit”
*pours a gallon of chunky gravy*
sigh.

After the trauma experienced there, I migrated to the

Indian food stall (YINDIAAAAAA)

This is another one of my faves.
They have good stuff man.
Naan, briyani, tandoori, etc.
But once again, the queue is always super long.
Filled with indian students from all over the world.

“hello yes I yam karrently stadying in new delhi. I have flown all this way simply to sample the vonderful indian cuisine found at your indian food stall, yaar (hindi for friend)”

the dude at the stall, a middle aged indian bloke, he has the weirdest habit.
When youre selecting your food, he goes
“ok chicken, braaaaa”the first few times I thought I was hearing things.
But he consistently does it.
“ok 2 naan, braaaaa”
till today, even with my godly superpowers, I cannot decipher what he says after each order
is he saying he wants to wear a bra?
Is it slang for ‘hurry up you fool’?
Is he trying to say ‘bro’ but lost the front part of his tongue in a childhood accident?
I don’t know man.
It confuses me like hell.
But I like this stall.
Way more than the

Malay food stall (akan datang, bodoh!)

The food here is hella mediocre.
Don’t see many people ever going to eat there.
The one time I tried to eat there, the grumpy makcik [elderly malay lady]
she got pissed off at me:
The food came to $2.80, and I gave her $3.
She looked at me in the most annoyed manner and said,
“no change AH!”
I was like…umm no lady I don’t have a “coin-purse” to carry a million coins.
She grumbled in malay and scowled.
And summoned her demonic minions.
Ok I made the last part up.
But she looked capable of it.

Thus, the boy wonder refuses to visit a stall where you get scolded, for paying good hard cash.

Lastly, there is the

Beijing fengwei stall (welcome to Guangzhou)

This is a stall exclusively set up for people from china.
And not the everyday Singaporean Chinese, who is actually from China, lest they sometimes forget.
Nay, I mean the fresh-off-the-boat Chinese nationals.
The menu is in Chinese, the food looks disgusting.

I think the ‘fengwei’ part loosely translates to mean “whatever food we could gather from the drainage system”
Thus, “Beijing fengwei” would mean “whatever food we could gather from the drainage system…of Beijing!”
I should win a prize for linguistic genius.
Oh and some local Chinese Singaporeans would not be caught dead at the stall, since you know, theyre ‘not really chinese’ and all.
Pffft.

Theres still the drink stalls, but theyre pretty boring.

That’s a wrap for the canteen.

Visit it only if you have no choice.
Or youre from business.

Ok gotta go sportscenter beckons.
Congrats to arsenal for beating Madrid.
And Singapore for beating iraq 2-0.

Till next time,
Love to all those that matter.
im out.

i predict a riot

Finally, a few spare minutes to update the trusty blog.

Whats been up you may ask?
Whats been going on in your life?
Whats the square root of -29?
All these redundant questions have as much purpose as roseanne barr at the gym.

School is, as usual, eating up my time, like a fat kid at a chocolate buffet.

Thats right, non-stop gobbling.
you go fatboy.
dont stop till you choke mofo.

This semester’s modules are pretty gay.
Financial accounting is the world’s most boring subject.
Ever.
Hate.it.so.much.

Computing for Business is not that bad comparatively.
Management & Organizations is pure crap.
All fluff no substance.

Intro to narratives is an interesting module, thankfully.
Business law is such a drag.
A billion statutes and definitions to remember.
Balls to that, I say.

Sunday, 5^th February2006.
Mayhem paid Singapore a visit.
When I say mayhem, I mean the death-metal pioneers.
Yes, the band that some fags wrote to the newspaper to prevent from coming down to perform.
Screw you, you bunch of wusses with way too much free time.
I can just imagine these losers.
Sitting alone.
Single.
In their broken rattan chair.
Annoyed that theyre just so pathetic and alone.
Telling everyone around them what to do.
While those around them ignore their whiny rants.
They sit.
Thinking of ways to deny people of any fun.
Angry, frustrated with life.
Heyyyyyyyyyyyyy people!
heres a suggestion!
Jump of a cliff!

And while youre at it, I hope you get pecked in the eye by a huge-ass eagle while youre falling to your messy doom.
Good work.

So TRA finally reunited for the Mayhem concert.
I took photos of the concert, but forgot to take some of TRA.
My bad.

When we got to far east square, in the middle of nowhere, roughly 200 people dressed in black were eagerly awaiting the opening of the doors.

Old malay dudes with long hair. Probably from Malaysia or Indonesia.
Wearing the old school detailed metal-band tshirts.
Local guys who are into the death metal scene.
And several posers.

There was this one white kid with spiky hair.
The kid was definitely on some drugs.
He was so hyper, headbanging to random shit.
During the performance, he pushed people in the name of moshing.
Sadly for him, one huge old malay dude caught hold of him by his hair, and elbowed the dude’s head till blood came out.

Yes compadres, a metal concert can be a dangerous place.

Mayhem’s performance itself was interesting.
The lead singer’s voice, especially when he growls, is the closest approximation to the voice that Satan would have if he spoke.
their drummer played like he was possessed, the bassist and guitarist were in sync, chord for chord.
they looked the part.
Scary shit I tell ya.

A small bit of background on mayhem.
Said to be earth’s mot evil band, their lead guitarist stabbed their bassist to death a few years ago.
A common rumour is that he and the other members ate the remains of the bassist.
and their lyrics are just nasty.
Yup.
Sick stuff I know.
They looked pretty decent though, sans makeup.
Wouldn’t bring ‘em home to mom though.

Though why I’d ever bring a white guy home to mom is beyond me.
“arzishhh………..go to your room right now. And drop this poor gora(white) boy home. Make sure he eats enough of my cooking first though.”
I joke.

Im not a huge fan of death-metal, but I do appreciate the technical wizardry these guys display, and their showmanship.

The mosh pit was quite a sight.

Random people slamming into each other; some aggressively, some simply in a daze.

Security was pretty tight, but it’s a good thing they allowed the body surfing and the mosh pit.

There was a random old Chinese uncle in a pink polo tshirt walking amidst the moshing.
I have no idea who he was.
The next Singapore idol getting vocal lessons perhaps?

Then there were the posers.
Ah the posers.

There was this young goth-wannabe couple.
The guy was some hideous mat, trying to look emo.
wrong concert dude.

The girl was some minah attempting to be goth.
And they were staring at people menacingly.
like..."what you looking at...sial"

Point to note here.
The one thing you should never do at a metal concert is appear over-aggressive.
Especially if you both look 15, and are skinny as refugees.
The reason for minding your own business in a metal concert is that all is well and brotherly and good spirited when you do so.

But once you mess around and try and come across as ‘hardcore’, when everyone knows youre a poser, you’ll just get whacked in the mosh pit.

The mosh pit is just a legitimate place for people to thrash each other.

To our glee, we watched as some old school Chinese dude ran towards the back of the minah and, at full force, elbowed the back of her neck.
Oooooh mofo that’s gotta hurt.
She cried, and disappeared.
if you cant handle the physical violence, nobody asked you to go for it.
Dumbass.
You only get what you give, kiddies.

It was brutal.
There were instances of violence where we cringed.
Then we joined in.

Roslan and I have random cuts on our knees and shins, no thanks to excessive moshing.
In all honesty, I kinda avoided the mosh pit cos I didn’t want my nice shoes (which the gf got me) to get screwed.
Gay, I know.
But fear not, the boy wonder was avidly involved in some hardcore violent fun.

Good friends, awesome music, a bunch of psychos on stage, fellow headbangers all round the place, dim lights, rampant bodyslamming and moshing, a few battle scars.

What better way to spend a lazy Sunday evening?

Heres a few pics.
I love my k750i.
It’s the shit.

no sistic here.

mayhem in action.

a freaky pic. not sure who this is.

the stage was tiny. but they did the best they could with it.

ok this was some random manjan chick right. she looked normal, with a few piercings here and there. on her back though, was tattooed a huge pentagram, and loads of satanic verses.
good work chan sayyy tann.

a salute to the kings of death metal. thats not me its some random fellow.
nice photo-op though.

Stupid school has been limiting my time with friends and the gf.
I hate it.
Especially the not-meeting-gf part.

I gotta say, amidst all this hardcore shit about metal and moshing, the gf is just perfect.
Funny how I’ve been saying that daily for a year and eight months.
good stuff people.
Good stuff.

Lifes good all round.
Though I bitch about it, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
im out.

in the jungle,the mighty jungle,the lion sleeps tonight

All was peaceful in the NUS business canteen.
Friends chatted over a hearty lunch.

Lecturers discussed the latest news with one another.
As I spoke to the gf, suddenly, with no warning, it happened.

A loud noise.
Created, no doubt, by cymbals.

More loud noises, drums creating a pandemonium more at home in an insane asylum.
As I shouted through my phone as if I were witnessing world war 3, I saw the origin of this cacophony.

The dreaded lion dancers of doom.

The arch-nemesis of the boy wonder.
These lions were not real lions.
No, banish the innocent thought.
They were vicious evil manjans, dressed up as vicious evil lions.
They craved money.
And souls.

There they were, with their huge lion-head thing blinking its hideous eyebrows in my direction.
I did what any self respecting superhero would do.
Did I summoned my superpowers?
Nay mofo.
I screamed like an 11 year old girl at a backstreet boys concert.
And I ran like a fat guy runs from the Diet police.

Basically, I got the hell away from the giant, man-eating lion thing.

Under the fear of being made into arzish-kebab by the lion of doom, I could only manage this clandestine picture of its minions.

By the way, school is boring as usual.
Lecturers suck so bad.
And the students, the majority of ‘em should be shot dead.
Sometimes, during lecture, I imagine myself personally shooting a few annoying pony-tailed Vietnamese students here and there. With a shrapnel gun.

How I would carry a shrapnel gun in my berms is another question.
In a coincidentally related matter, mauve is a colour, not a fruit, as I thought.

Also, im gonna watch mayhem perform live this Sunday.
Ill put up some pics of what a real hardcore metal concert looks like, for all you pansies outthere.

Oh and tj if youre reading this, you should be impaled and fed to vultures for watching mudvayne. i HATE you.
I kid.

In other news.
There is no other news.
Once again, I reiterate, thank heavens ive got the gf to help me out.
Not only is she hot, shes smart!
More after-school help for the boy wonder…if you know what I mean…
*hint hint nudge nudge stab stab kill kill*

that’s all for today mofos.
Love to all that matter.
im out.