he struts around in pajamas and a cane. how else would you describe this walking absurdity. why don't you find out yourself.
with chalk >>
Ajay. BenDIBLE. Carmen. Chan Tong. cQ. Delicia. Eilene. Elaine. Emily. Geral. Gideon. Jane. Jean. Jeremy. Jian Hui. Kar Mun. Katrina. Kenny. Matthew. Mich. Michelle. Nadia. Phanit. Rachel. Sarah. Sheng Ling. Wei Shen. Xinyi. Yung.
or crayons >>
October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 June 2010
no utensils >>
nuff >>
HAPPY NEW YEAR / Thursday, December 31, 2009 @ 8:00 AM
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~HAPPY NEW YEAR~
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~HAPPY NEW YEAR~
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Gee Gee Gee Gee Baby Baby Baby / Monday, December 28, 2009 @ 6:49 PM
Its the 29th of December. Just 4 days after Christmas.
Gee's BIRTHDAY!
You're finally turning 16 which is a big thing, you remember how 15 was the age not to fight back against toasters?well 16 is the legal age to have sex here in Australia 16 is where you finally get to go around people and tell them ' I'm 16!'
Being friends with you for 3 years of my life was one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me. ( I mean, who else can I go to and rant about boysmarcmarcmarcmarcmarcmarc)
Its been nearly a year since we last met, where does the time go? - Dante
Quote by your favourite fictional character
(Gee) according to the oxford dictionary.
int.(usu. with up) command to horse etc. to start or go faster
I think that the oxford dictionary hasn't described you perfectly.
Gee: caring, unhealthy eating, weird, trusting, loving, accepting. (gee is basically everything I want her to be?) haha
I know the closest thing I have to communicating with you is via MSN.
Well fret not, you take up the second most space in my message history
a good 8327kb/half a year after our convo just now.
You have always gone along with all the wierd things I do.
>
>>
>>>
>>>>
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~Happy Birthday Gee~
with love, Samuel
Its the 29th of December. Just 4 days after Christmas.
Gee's BIRTHDAY!
You're finally turning 16 which is a big thing, you remember how 15 was the age not to fight back against toasters?
Being friends with you for 3 years of my life was one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me. ( I mean, who else can I go to and rant about boys
Its been nearly a year since we last met, where does the time go? - Dante
Quote by your favourite fictional character
(Gee) according to the oxford dictionary.
int.(usu. with up) command to horse etc. to start or go faster
I think that the oxford dictionary hasn't described you perfectly.
Gee: caring, unhealthy eating, weird, trusting, loving, accepting. (gee is basically everything I want her to be?) haha
I know the closest thing I have to communicating with you is via MSN.
Well fret not, you take up the second most space in my message history
a good 8327kb/half a year after our convo just now.
You have always gone along with all the wierd things I do.
>
>>
>>>
>>>>
>>>>>
~Happy Birthday Gee~
with love, Samuel
Chinglish just isn't good enough / Monday, December 21, 2009 @ 6:16 AM
I always dreaded ten o'clock on Saturday mornings
Ten o'clock meant the end of Saturday morning cartoons
Ten o'clock was when my uncle went out to the nearby kopitiam.
Ten o'clock meant Chinese lessons.
At the stroke of ten on the old grandfather clock hanging on the wall in my aunt's house, my aunt would round us all up, my brother, my sister, and two cousins, along with me. We'd troop half-heartedly to the cheap pine shelf in the study room that held the battered chinese readers, with their colorful images of happy children playing games. I've always wondered why life wasn't so easy. After collecting pencils, notebooks and erasers, we would sit on the circular table from the eldest to the youngest.
My aunt would come around giving each of us a new worksheet and marking our papers. As we struggled with each character, sounding out slowly the pinyin next to it, prompted and corrected by my aunt, we'd finally reach the bottom of a sentence. Then we would repeate the laborious experience on the next phrase. Each reader was divided into sixteen or so passages covering various subjects from grocery shopping to family trips. For each passage there was a comprehension excercise in which my aunt would get me to not only read out my answer but to write it down. Aunty would move around checking our progress, and marking our exercises, and listening to us read out the passages in which I now recognise as sloppy Banana, English accented Chinese.
There'd be a break in the middle of the lesson where all of us ran to the kitchen to get 'kakak', my aunts maid to make us Rebina. "Five minutes only" my aunt would say although it sometimes stretched to ten. My cousin and I would run into the sun-drenched backyard, walking around, kicking dry tufts of grass around while holding the plastic mugs in our little hands.
Those breaks were always too short. We were soon back in the house in the dreaded study room, bent over Chinese books, messily copying out new characters. All the while my aunt would tell us to sit straight. I remember thinking about what I would do for the rest of the day or what was for lunch during these periods.
For me, the lessons started when I was seven beggining at Standard One chinese and progressing along. Unfortunately, I didn't quite grasp the significance of these lessons as a bratty kid who just wanted to muck around on weekends. While I was supposed to be committing to memory the intricate characters and sounds for each word such as 'snow' and 'blood', I'd be staring out the study window, looking at the gun trees swaying around the tiled rooftops, wishing I was a little white kid and doing Little Athletics or watching TV, anything other that Chinese lessons on a lazy Saturday morning. Many lessons I spent sulking, glaring at my aunt, the readers, the faded blue grid-lines on the exercise books.
As a student progressed, we could change to different numbered books, in which the squares would correspondingly shrink, until we could write small and neat characters.i never graduated beyond the huge boxes, which barely contained my scratchy, stubbornly clumsy characters but more of doodles of stickmen and giant bug-eyes monsters. I couldn't understand why I had to learn chinese while everyone else at school spoke, thinked, dreamt, do English. Why, I wondered as I grew older did I have to waste my time? And why I wondered did Aunty waste her time on us?
I've always envied my two older siblings and was always trailing after them. I couldn't wait to grow up and be just like them, taking the bus to high school, going out with friends and sometimes a 'special' friend. This burning desire to be just like them extended to Chinese lessons. I'd seem glimpses of their readers. They always seemed to get exciting and impressive passages, the story of the frog in the well, the little white rabbit (xiao pai tu), or the old man and the mountain, while I had to read about children going to school, to parks, to the sea. But slowly I reached those hallowed passages. And they weren't as great as I expected them to be. The frog in the well was a stupid, tiny amphibian with a gargantuan superiority complex. The old man turned out to be an equally stupid peasant who thought he could make the journey across the mountain my digging literally through the mountain.
As I moved on through lessons, I slowly moved through readers. But I never fully absorbed the characters, the phrases, the essence. By the time I was ten and Standard Five in Chinese, the only characters I knew (as in could write and read) were elementary ones such as 'I', 'you', 'them'. I learnt the character 'male' from a glossy Giorgio Armani perfume ad in Marie Claire. The only sentences I could write entirely were 'My name is Huang Shen Han' and 'I love you'. I could speak more but even then I stumbled and stopped, trying to fill the gaps in my sentences from my near-empty cache of words.
As time passed, I learnt a few more characters and a bit about Chinese culture, I came to undertand its consistency or inflexibility, the passive strength that is the key to its longevity. I became familiar with chinese Emperors and Poets. I came to appreciate how a four-character phrase, and even a single character itself embodies thoussands of years of development and knowledge.
However later as time moved on, I lacked the willpower to continue in these lessons. I come up with excuses 'I have a lot of homework la today Aunty, maybe next week'. But now I realie, I regret not paying closer attention to those chinese lessons, Regret that fills my heart everytime we go over to my Aunts and watch an English movie on the flatscreen. There are also more selfish reasons to be regretful. I could if I'd been more diligent in my lessons, write in my resume 'speaks fluent that lined the boulevard of Chinatown in Perth, and order in Chinese, eavesdropping on Chinese conversations between Chinese people among the Aussies who can't understand Chinese while I slurp up soft, squidgy noodles, slick from a hot, salty broth... Maybe I'd feel more authentic in some way.
I know there's more to a person than their cultural background, how they look on the outside, more to me than being Malaysian-Chinese-Australian. Do I even need those hyphenated cut-and-paste identities? There are other parts of me... but...
Maybe, I'd feel more authentic?
with love, Samuel
I always dreaded ten o'clock on Saturday mornings
Ten o'clock meant the end of Saturday morning cartoons
Ten o'clock was when my uncle went out to the nearby kopitiam.
Ten o'clock meant Chinese lessons.
At the stroke of ten on the old grandfather clock hanging on the wall in my aunt's house, my aunt would round us all up, my brother, my sister, and two cousins, along with me. We'd troop half-heartedly to the cheap pine shelf in the study room that held the battered chinese readers, with their colorful images of happy children playing games. I've always wondered why life wasn't so easy. After collecting pencils, notebooks and erasers, we would sit on the circular table from the eldest to the youngest.
My aunt would come around giving each of us a new worksheet and marking our papers. As we struggled with each character, sounding out slowly the pinyin next to it, prompted and corrected by my aunt, we'd finally reach the bottom of a sentence. Then we would repeate the laborious experience on the next phrase. Each reader was divided into sixteen or so passages covering various subjects from grocery shopping to family trips. For each passage there was a comprehension excercise in which my aunt would get me to not only read out my answer but to write it down. Aunty would move around checking our progress, and marking our exercises, and listening to us read out the passages in which I now recognise as sloppy Banana, English accented Chinese.
There'd be a break in the middle of the lesson where all of us ran to the kitchen to get 'kakak', my aunts maid to make us Rebina. "Five minutes only" my aunt would say although it sometimes stretched to ten. My cousin and I would run into the sun-drenched backyard, walking around, kicking dry tufts of grass around while holding the plastic mugs in our little hands.
Those breaks were always too short. We were soon back in the house in the dreaded study room, bent over Chinese books, messily copying out new characters. All the while my aunt would tell us to sit straight. I remember thinking about what I would do for the rest of the day or what was for lunch during these periods.
For me, the lessons started when I was seven beggining at Standard One chinese and progressing along. Unfortunately, I didn't quite grasp the significance of these lessons as a bratty kid who just wanted to muck around on weekends. While I was supposed to be committing to memory the intricate characters and sounds for each word such as 'snow' and 'blood', I'd be staring out the study window, looking at the gun trees swaying around the tiled rooftops, wishing I was a little white kid and doing Little Athletics or watching TV, anything other that Chinese lessons on a lazy Saturday morning. Many lessons I spent sulking, glaring at my aunt, the readers, the faded blue grid-lines on the exercise books.
As a student progressed, we could change to different numbered books, in which the squares would correspondingly shrink, until we could write small and neat characters.i never graduated beyond the huge boxes, which barely contained my scratchy, stubbornly clumsy characters but more of doodles of stickmen and giant bug-eyes monsters. I couldn't understand why I had to learn chinese while everyone else at school spoke, thinked, dreamt, do English. Why, I wondered as I grew older did I have to waste my time? And why I wondered did Aunty waste her time on us?
I've always envied my two older siblings and was always trailing after them. I couldn't wait to grow up and be just like them, taking the bus to high school, going out with friends and sometimes a 'special' friend. This burning desire to be just like them extended to Chinese lessons. I'd seem glimpses of their readers. They always seemed to get exciting and impressive passages, the story of the frog in the well, the little white rabbit (xiao pai tu), or the old man and the mountain, while I had to read about children going to school, to parks, to the sea. But slowly I reached those hallowed passages. And they weren't as great as I expected them to be. The frog in the well was a stupid, tiny amphibian with a gargantuan superiority complex. The old man turned out to be an equally stupid peasant who thought he could make the journey across the mountain my digging literally through the mountain.
As I moved on through lessons, I slowly moved through readers. But I never fully absorbed the characters, the phrases, the essence. By the time I was ten and Standard Five in Chinese, the only characters I knew (as in could write and read) were elementary ones such as 'I', 'you', 'them'. I learnt the character 'male' from a glossy Giorgio Armani perfume ad in Marie Claire. The only sentences I could write entirely were 'My name is Huang Shen Han' and 'I love you'. I could speak more but even then I stumbled and stopped, trying to fill the gaps in my sentences from my near-empty cache of words.
As time passed, I learnt a few more characters and a bit about Chinese culture, I came to undertand its consistency or inflexibility, the passive strength that is the key to its longevity. I became familiar with chinese Emperors and Poets. I came to appreciate how a four-character phrase, and even a single character itself embodies thoussands of years of development and knowledge.
However later as time moved on, I lacked the willpower to continue in these lessons. I come up with excuses 'I have a lot of homework la today Aunty, maybe next week'. But now I realie, I regret not paying closer attention to those chinese lessons, Regret that fills my heart everytime we go over to my Aunts and watch an English movie on the flatscreen. There are also more selfish reasons to be regretful. I could if I'd been more diligent in my lessons, write in my resume 'speaks fluent that lined the boulevard of Chinatown in Perth, and order in Chinese, eavesdropping on Chinese conversations between Chinese people among the Aussies who can't understand Chinese while I slurp up soft, squidgy noodles, slick from a hot, salty broth... Maybe I'd feel more authentic in some way.
I know there's more to a person than their cultural background, how they look on the outside, more to me than being Malaysian-Chinese-Australian. Do I even need those hyphenated cut-and-paste identities? There are other parts of me... but...
Maybe, I'd feel more authentic?
with love, Samuel
This is for you / Wednesday, December 16, 2009 @ 5:57 PM
Oi. Mfking jibai wanna call my gf lidet go fck urself la if can't get girls online. Treat my gf lidet wan die arh. You got problem come find me la, if you can't find me, I'm bz selling your mom off on Ebay la.
If you wan girls so bad go fck ur own mom la I'm sure she wouldn't care already what, I'm sure shes fcked so many fugly people she won't mind fcking ur tiny lil dick la.
Summore go and kacau my gf so late at night summore, you got no life ar. Whats wrong, feeling insulted? Then stop adding girls on fb to flirt with them la u mfka.
Wah liao call my gf so many things see urself first la, y your mom nvr teach you arh, then go fck her la mb she will teach you.
If you have some prob with this post u come find me la u mfkin Jeevan Kettavan
Oi. Mfking jibai wanna call my gf lidet go fck urself la if can't get girls online. Treat my gf lidet wan die arh. You got problem come find me la, if you can't find me, I'm bz selling your mom off on Ebay la.
If you wan girls so bad go fck ur own mom la I'm sure she wouldn't care already what, I'm sure shes fcked so many fugly people she won't mind fcking ur tiny lil dick la.
Summore go and kacau my gf so late at night summore, you got no life ar. Whats wrong, feeling insulted? Then stop adding girls on fb to flirt with them la u mfka.
Wah liao call my gf so many things see urself first la, y your mom nvr teach you arh, then go fck her la mb she will teach you.
If you have some prob with this post u come find me la u mfkin Jeevan Kettavan
130208 / Sunday, December 13, 2009 @ 5:44 AM
Care for a little phone sex anyone??
Call 739-9484-726835
Hah what a nice way to start a post XP
Anyway...
13th ^^ HAPPY 22 MONTHS BABBBBYYY
with love, Samuel
__________________________________________________________________________
Care for a little phone sex anyone??
Call 739-9484-726835
Hah what a nice way to start a post XP
Anyway...
13th ^^ HAPPY 22 MONTHS BABBBBYYY
with love, Samuel
__________________________________________________________________________
Open Wider / Friday, December 11, 2009 @ 3:44 AM
I went to the dentist today and he said that I need to brush more on the gums. I think the assistant has a thing for jamming the vacuum into my mouth and sucking my mouth dry. So anyway after half an hour of teeth and gum torture, he put some calcium and fluoride on my teeth and said that I should eat more food with calcium... (I think we have pills for that need to remember to get some)
Ahhh how I miss the old days where going to the dentist used to be fun... Yeap I said it, going to the dentist used to be fun. I remember sitting on the bright green chair then letting me pick one of the brightly coloured sunnies to 'protect' my eyes from the glare of the bright light.
Then letting me rinse my mouth with the weird pale blue coloured liquid and letting me refill my own cup.
I remember playing with the vacuum thingie sucking the insides of my cheek till it hurt.
Well going to the dentist nowadays has it advantages, you get free extra gum and floss which you'll never use. (Well I have to use it now to clean up my gums to prevent bacteria)Looks like I'll have to reduce on the kissing then
Have you ever noticed how fun teeth floss is? You pull it till its about 15cm long (yeah I know that is wasting) and then placing it between as many teeth as you can on one row and then pulling on the other end wheee~
I used to think it was fun and efficient till my mom told me it dosent work that way...
Oh well off to find something fun to do with gum and floss
with love, Samuel
I went to the dentist today and he said that I need to brush more on the gums. I think the assistant has a thing for jamming the vacuum into my mouth and sucking my mouth dry. So anyway after half an hour of teeth and gum torture, he put some calcium and fluoride on my teeth and said that I should eat more food with calcium... (I think we have pills for that need to remember to get some)
Ahhh how I miss the old days where going to the dentist used to be fun... Yeap I said it, going to the dentist used to be fun. I remember sitting on the bright green chair then letting me pick one of the brightly coloured sunnies to 'protect' my eyes from the glare of the bright light.
Then letting me rinse my mouth with the weird pale blue coloured liquid and letting me refill my own cup.
I remember playing with the vacuum thingie sucking the insides of my cheek till it hurt.
Well going to the dentist nowadays has it advantages, you get free extra gum and floss which you'll never use. (Well I have to use it now to clean up my gums to prevent bacteria)
Have you ever noticed how fun teeth floss is? You pull it till its about 15cm long (yeah I know that is wasting) and then placing it between as many teeth as you can on one row and then pulling on the other end wheee~
I used to think it was fun and efficient till my mom told me it dosent work that way...
Oh well off to find something fun to do with gum and floss
with love, Samuel
Glide Away / Tuesday, December 1, 2009 @ 6:06 PM
*scratch scratch*
What a nice way to start a blog post. Now I can leave you all to imagine.
Went ice-skating for cell bonding. Got there and found out I was the last one there.(Probably because I left the house late) So went there and got our feet sized and got the skates. Then what is a proper gathering without all the cam whoring.
Ben sure took his time getting someone to help us take this next shot... My butt was freezing.
And also what is ice skating without the ocasional 'accidental' fall. (Fell on purpose 5 times. Not including sliding on butt for fun)
Pang Sai pose
Haha poor poor Jo. Looks like everytime we have a candid shot this pose is a necessity.
I don't think you are ever going to hear the end of this Joseph. You and your 'natural and smiling' pose.
with love, Samuel
*scratch scratch*
What a nice way to start a blog post. Now I can leave you all to imagine.
Went ice-skating for cell bonding. Got there and found out I was the last one there.(Probably because I left the house late) So went there and got our feet sized and got the skates. Then what is a proper gathering without all the cam whoring.
Ben sure took his time getting someone to help us take this next shot... My butt was freezing.
And also what is ice skating without the ocasional 'accidental' fall. (Fell on purpose 5 times. Not including sliding on butt for fun)
Pang Sai pose
Haha poor poor Jo. Looks like everytime we have a candid shot this pose is a necessity.
I don't think you are ever going to hear the end of this Joseph. You and your 'natural and smiling' pose.
with love, Samuel