Average Looking Mat

As reported by the BBC.

Liverpool came from behind to record their first league win of the season.

Read more in Rafalution...

This article was posted in October 2005. So it might be old news.

Songs Against Terrorism

Read more in Columns

The World Cup has been gone for a over a month now but its repercussions is still being felt by the losers and winners. Dr Istivan Gorgenyi has just written an article as to why Brazil lost the World Cup on SBS's The World Game website.

Read more in Rafalution.

Peter Crouch's goal in the 1-1 draw against Maccabi Haifa in Kiev was enough to secure an aggregate 3-2 success but it wasn’t all good news for the Reds as both Stephen Warnock and Momo Sissoko were forced off with ankle and knee problems respectively.

Read more in Rafalution

The judging panel for the 2006 Man Booker Prize for Fiction today (Monday 14th August) announces the longlist of books for this year. The longlist of 19 books was chosen from 112 entries; 95 were submitted for the prize and 17 were called in by the panel of judges.

Read More in Literature.

There is a fear. With the introduction of replays in tennis, i fear there will be no McEnroe-esque disputes. The following is a report by Howard Fendrich an AP Sports Writer.

Read More in Rafalution.

I think I have said and confessed enough to at least let people around me get on with my life. But it is funny how people never let me do it.

Some people claim they have and yet it has been brought up as if it was a biannual affair. Sort of like a National or Independence Day to remind them that what has been done was equivalent to the bombing of Hiroshima.

But the bombing of Hiroshima it is not.

So get over it.

FUCK YOU ALL!


PS – if I am not allowed to do that then why should I?

This is an interview conducted by the Egypt Times earlier this year with Paul Di'Anno, former Iron Maiden vocalists.

April 2006

A former Iron Maiden vocalist shows that one can be politically active, religiously observant — and a rock ‘n roller
By David Lee Wilson

Read the full interview in the Column Section.

Iron Maiden is going to release an album in a few days time.

Read more on Music.

For those of you who would like to know a little bit about Singapore without the Tourism board overtones or biasness, I present to you Notes from an Even Smaller Island and Scribbles from the Same Island by Neil Humphrey.

Read more in Literature

The game against Sheffield United was a bad result. Liverpool were missing Xabi Alonso. As a result play was not as fluid as it could be. For more read Liverpool Football Club.

it is the time of the month.

it is the time when a mere two dollars is spent for lunch and dinner.

(you people probably wonder how do i go about doing that.)

so in this state of mind, it left me wondering about the little things i can enjoy without buying anything or not paying for much...

so here they are (not in order of merit):
1-waking up in the morning

2-staying in bed in a cold wintery morning

3-waking up early to the tune of coffee, eggs and toast.

4-kissing her cold soft lips

5-smelling her moonflower scent

6-her long lanky legs

8-feeling her porcelain skin

9-getting calls from overseas or old mates

10-having a ciggie just after brushing the teeth

11-her beaming (if it was a good day) smile when she sees me

12-dove silk mosturiser

13-seeing her after having a bad day

14-coffee and a book (leisure reading)

15-the adrenaline rush in the middle of a football match

16-the adrenaline rush after a football match

17-jimi hendrix

18-al green's 'let's stay together'

19-my fender telecaster

20-my WahWah pedal

21-liverpool football club (though it has been a source of pain, extreme pain)

22-Haroun and the Sea of Stories

i have not really given it a thorough thought. nevertheless i am sure i think that covers it. plus i am not really giving an excuse for any offensiveness that has come out of this.

5 Most Depressing Songs...

perhaps the running theme for this week is music... or rather precisely, as it seems, depressing music...

for a couple of days, i have been spacing out ( you know, when u someone stares or gaze into the empty space)... Felicia has often caught me doing that, but those were for different reasons... ok, before i ramble on here they are...

Next 5 most depressing Songs

Send in the Clowns - Frank Sinatra (written by Stephen Sondheim)... more

Read more in Music Section

Dear Muslims…

First and foremost, I would like to congratulate you people (well not all but that minority) on establishing the notion that Islam is a religion of terror.

Read More in Column Section

When I decided to put ads on my blog a few weeks ago, my girlfriend cried, ‘Sell Out!’. I have to admit unashamedly that I have done so to earn a quick buck. In my defense, I shall say, I have done it to protect my trade as a writer.

I think it is tough making a living as a writer anywhere in the world let alone in Singapore. So If I were to start, I think I need to start earning some doe through it. Remember, those skills in which I have learnt cost me thousands of dollars and heartaches.

But let me say this.

Even though I like writing, a.k.a. fun it may be, it is also a craft. It is a craft that I intend to market as a skill that I possess. On a higher level I intend to make writing my profession. So the question is, am I wrong to do so when writing jobs are almost unavailable?

A loose interpretation of integrity is the refusal to engage in lying, blaming or other behaviours generally associated with the evading accountability. In other words integrity is upholding one’s morals and true to one’s word.

Placed against this yardstick, I have not said and written anything contrary to what I feel or think. So how is it possible that I be branded a sell out? I am perplexed. I have managed to maintain my integrity and sincerity so far and I shall continue to do so.

Over the next few weeks, for the greater good of mankind, I shall reinvent this blog. Perhaps I was rather embarrassed by the sate of my blog compared to the rest of what is good out there.

I don’t think it shall be a sophisticated, flash driven website as my technical saviness is at best mediocre. I hope however it shall be of a certain acceptable standard.

So ladies and gentleman please bear with me if you may.

PS-My girlfriend was abhorred by the fact that I am doing this. A complete waste of time, she said.

I think my discontent towards Singapore and Singaporeans have been well documented and to a certain extent blown out of proportion. However, I have never been too hateful nor have I been too loving towards her. Moderation is the key word here.

So let me set the record straight.

I do love Singapore. How can I not?

Before you cynics and sceptics sound your blabbering mutter, get this.

It is a country in which I have spilled my blood, sweat and tears. My most joyful and saddest moments have happened here. My parents are here. My siblings (well most of them) are here. My relatives are here. Love has been lost and love has been gained. For that I do not think the tread that signifies my sense of belonging for it can ever be broken.

So why that tinge of discontent you may ask?

It is this.

The tendencies of the people (amongst many other reasons).

I have no argument against the funny and most of the time irritating Singaporean accent. Frankly I support and applaud it because amongst the many manufactured things in Singapore, it is the one thing that has developed naturally. I just wish Singaporeans could mind what they say sometimes. And please get it right in the international stage ok?

Getting back on track, one of the things that Singaporeans love to do when abroad is whine about how bad it is and rave about how good it is at home. Well, if you do not like staying here then get the hell out of this place. Why come here in the first place? But these are the same people who, when at home, rave about how excellent it was abroad. I suspect they just wanted to be known to be well travelled. Well dudes, sorry to say, living in posh hotel rooms and shopping at the malls of those cities do not make you a well-travelled person. Of course, this is the general rule and there are exceptions.

I am not saying the grass is always greener on the other side. For example, while in Perth I have seen more bad than good. The thing is, make do with whatever you have. If you can’t take the challenge then don’t!

Speaking of which, is this the product of the education system?

I hear a resounding yes.

What can I say, most of the teachers are like that too. And what is even more sadder is that I used to be one. Henceforth it is without reservations that I share part of the blame.

One other thing about the Singaporean society; there is the lack of graciousness. I believe most people here are genuine, unlike, for example in … ahem... Australia, and that's precisely the thing. If only we can be more gracious. For instance, if you see someone in trouble, for example, a gust of wind suddenly blows a stack of papers (I remember it naomi), helpless lady (or gentleman for that matter) scouring to pick it up, please help. It doesn’t take much. Not a minute is wasted. Furthermore, you would feel better soon after.

Believe me you will.

There are a lot of places in which tragedy and sadness is common. One of those places isn’t Singapore, so stop complaining.

I have been a bad son lately. I have been confessing to the whole world how horrible it is to live with my father. However. I have yet to share with you the real man with whom we share this blessed earth with about the enormity of his heart.

Going about the menial and important tasks that he has set out for himself, he seems well and good. That however isn’t the case if we scratch beneath that calm surface.

My father is a man in pain. This pain that he bears is not the illness that he suffered few years ago. This pain is caused by one of my brothers.

It is with great pain that I share this with all of you. It is not an expression of washing one’s dirty linen in public. But it is vindication of my father’s pedestal in this life that he deserves. This will be done by sharing his pain with all of you.

This is how it began.

While I was away in Perth a lot of things happened in Singapore. My brother, let us just call him the Bastard, got married to a crazy psychotic girl whom I shall introduce as the Bitch.

In the middle of 2003, the Bastard bought the apartment the whole family had been living in since 1978. Having a share of the apartment, I agreed to it because I thought it would greatly help with the expenses. Things went smoothly during that time until the Bastard got married to the Bitch.

Firstly my father had invested some money into the Bastard’s Bridal Photography business. I wasn’t consulted when this decision was made but I suppose I should let it slide. For I thought blood is thicker than water.

At this point of time, he had appointed his wife, the Bitch as a partner in the firm in which she has no monetary investment. Fine…

And then he bought a car. A Mitsubishi Lancer to be exact. To my international audience I would just like to mention the fact that cars in Singapore are about 300% more expensive than the most of the rest of the world.

Carrying on from there, Mr Bastard had bought the car using the old man’s money. He somehow had managed to convince my father to part with his some of his money by implying the benefits of having a car, such as ‘I will drive to work’. Nice. Well, whatever it was, again, I wasn’t consulted. Fine again…

And then my parents went for their second Haj Pilgrimage. It was then things start to get really interesting.

But before I go any further let me state one thing.

This is how my family works. Being a family of 11; a set of parents, 6 brothers, and 3 sisters, ownership over objects like clothes are shared. I am sure a lot of people in big families would understand this.

In the meantime, the Bastard and the Bitch had been living under the same roof as every one else (well excluding my two married sisters).

Well the ownership issue became a really big issue. It extended right to the pots and pans. Imagine even the pots and pans became an issue. I thought that stuff only happens to couples who are going through a divorce.

Of course, eventually my parents returned from Haj. Even then things never reverted back to its supposed normalcy. The damage has been done.

By that time, my brother began to dislike a lot of things that he used to like, just because the psycho bitch didn’t like it. He finds more things to be offensive with. At this point of time I would like to state that I am not diverting the blame on the psycho aka the Bitch even though she probably has played a part. Meanwhile, when all of these have been happening, she was pregnant.

Because the bitch was now pregnant, she began to display her displeasure of not having the master bedroom that has the adjuncting bathroom.

Uncomfortable became downright awkward.

As it is, to state that the relationship deteriorated between my family and Mr. Bastard and Mrs. Bitch is an understatement.

So when uncomfortable became downright awkward, the apartment, which is now not officially owned by my parents, my siblings knew they all had to move out.

Thus, here we are now.

My father, instead of living in that nicely renovated apartment that was funded by his retirement fund, had been banished to this place.

Imagine his pain folks. Imagine his pain.

My dear friends, let me end this post by posting a poem that he wrote for me when came to be in December 1973. i translated it from Malay for my final year thesis. It’s called:

SEED 3

Father
Prays his seed becomes a universal man
Mother
Wishes her unborn will embody beauty

Determined by the hands of
The Maker
Ensured by the Almighty

In pomp and circumstance the flag bearer arrives and stands
In an obvious event the manly protector of angels lands
He shall be the opponent of anti democracy
He shall be the upholder of His Legacy.

His chaste heart will shine
His friendships will illuminate
A speck of humanity one will locate
And the spread of eternal love.

Woodleigh Park
December 1973

I was one of the subjects during today’s survey.

There were eight of us. 4 men 4 women. Fair and square.

The topic of the survey was which of the following list of public figures that would best represent the Malay community.

Ok perhaps that was an interpretation of the topic.

Maybe it was: which of the following persons would unite the community as a spokesperson for the community.

I think that was it.

If I were to list down those public figures I do not think my international audience would identify with them. So I will list them as such:

Footballer
Entertainer/producer
Singer-comedian-actress
Idol winner
Scientist
Philanthropist
Artist (pottery)
Artist (folk singer)
Businessman
Beauty queen/lawyer

The odds are against the women because out of the 10, only two were women.

In any case, after an hour of giving our collective $40 worth of opinions, here’s what the men came up with as their top 5.

1. Footballer
2. Idol winner
3. Philanthropist
4. Scientist
5. Businessman

The women:

1. Idol winner
2. Footballer
3. Scientist
4. Philanthropist
5. Businessman

… and all that for a miserly $50.

Any thoughts?

Hey Erik, thanks mate... i couldnt find where was it that you placed your comment...

anyway, if you folks are around Dallas Texas, and would like to develop your self defence skills ask Erik Mann... the big Sensei of Mann's Martial Arts...

You go to this site -

http://ntfa-dallas.home.att.net/index2.htm

found this on a website...

http://www.guapunya.com/ini-gp/propaganda?action=viewnews&id=104

The Corpse Bride is a story based on actual events that occurred in 19th century Russia, at a time when anti-semitism was widespread in eastern Europe. Very often bands of anti-semites would waylay a Jewish wedding party on their way to the wedding. And because the bride would be the one to bear future generations, she would be murdered.

She would then be buried in her wedding gown.

How much fun would it have been if my girlfriend doesn’t know about this blog. If that wasn’t the case, maybe I would have been a bit more candid about my sexual relationship with her. I would probably jot down the nitty gritty details of our sex lives. Sadly that isn’t the case, though a thought just ran through my mind; perhaps ‘we’ should document it instead. I am not sure whether she would agree to that but I am sure she isn’t offended. Are you… sayang?

But one of the few people who do not know about this blog is my father.

I’d imagine the shock when that day arrives, especially when it comes to my sexual activities.

First and foremost, I am positive that he knows or at least suspects. Being a conservative Asian Muslim Malay parent (not all Asians are conservative), he probably is in denial.

Speaking of which, I was thinking about some of the stuffs that I have done that would have risked the disclosure of this ‘secret’.

For example, doing it in the room while my parents were in the living room or while my 8 siblings were in the living room.

Or doing it in the balcony while every one was asleep.

The thing is, we don’t live in a big house. Hell, it isn’t even a house. It is a 3 room apartment. So each compartment of the residence is in close proximity.

I am sure none of the above mentioned acts are revolutionary by world standards but they are, from my father’s perspective. In any case, I am sure he won’t find out.

Ah well…

found a really funny blog. It's called... My Boyfriend is Crazy...

http://myboyfriendiscrazy.blogspot.com/

happy reading...

for reasons due to my father's reproduction between the years 1970 to 1984, i do not have a room in which i can call my own. with that said, i do mind room sharing. however when it is not my room to begin with and the task to maintain it is burdened on you, then Houston, we have a problem.

the problem is this.

this morning after i had my wonderful Bodyshop Passionfruit shower, and then coated myself with Silk Dove Cream, i entered the room, wore my undies and hung my towel. it was then the sound of my rather annoying (not all the times) father bellowed.

'Dont hang that towel there,' he said, as he pointed to my towel and a few others near the clothes rack.

'It will smell,' he continued.

i ignored him and left it there.

indeed he is right. the towel will smell. i do not need to remind you how bad a wet towel smells. i do agree with him but the moment he wields his authority, i rebel.

after clothing myself i would dry it elsewhere. i would have probably position the rest of the towels appropriately too. but i would not do it because he has simply said so.

Papa continued with his ramblings while i continued to choose my attire for the day. i think he must have said it a few times before he himself placed elsewhere.

good job Papa.

that however did not shut him up. he continued with his ramblings while i went to the kitchen to make coffee, took the papers and sat down at the reading lounge.

i might be shirking some responsibilities but i hate being told especially when it is with regards to this. i concede. but i just hate being told what to do. furthermore, most of it is subjective and is a matter of taste.

this constant 'interference' is really getting on my nerves.

i have no idea how i am going to put up with it in the coming months.

Before I go any further, I’d like to state, without hope or agenda that I love my father. Love him dearly. Thus, if at any point in time in this article that I may lead or mislead my readers to believe that I disrespect or show a lack of affection for my father, please forgive me.

My Papa, he is an old man, over 60 years young. That may not sound old knowing that we have many cases in which men and women have lived to a hundred. However, it is my belief that when a person retires, he or she is, without a doubt, old. Why do you think we have the phrase, ‘when I am old and retired’. But before that, a few things to take note.

A few years ago, on my birthday, Papa suffered a mild stroke. If that is unfortunate, you may think, wait until I get to the end of this segment. So given the situation, he was sent to the hospital by my other siblings, was diagnosed and then a few hours later discharged.

Fine.

That very same night, he had another attack. Although it was not as serious as the first one, it was a life threatening one, given that any second stroke is as dangerous if not more. I believe our esteemed Singaporeans can vouch for that.

As a result, he suffered an almost debilitating paralysis of the right side of his body. To see this once powerful man crumble into a Mr Magoo is not a pretty sight. Consequently, a further ten years was added to his otherwise, relatively young age.

As a result of that too, many of his idiosyncrasies keeps surfacing. For example when I just got back a few weeks ago after a long sabbatical in Perth, I had trouble adjusting the weather and pollution. (Perth is relatively outback) I began to develop a chronic runny nose. As far as I am concerned I have never had sinus. On top of that, the World Cup was on. I am aware that I need to take care of my body too. However, my Papa, seeing that I have been using too much tissue paper, said this;

‘Jangan pakai tissue paper, kadang-kadang banyak habuk…’

Which means;

‘Don’t use the tissue paper, there might a lot of dust on it’.

Upon hearing those words of wisdom my head scrolled out a few options not unlike and ‘A’ Level Economics Multiple Choice Questions that I took years ago in response to his wise words.

a) You kidding right?
b) What kind of logic is that?
c) I don’t think any health expert in Singapore agrees with you.
d) All of the above (but must be said in a breath)
e) None of the above (but with a glare and mince)

I chose option e) smiled to my mother who gave me a less wiser option but an equally effective one by handing me some cold relief tablets.

But seriously, what can I say to that.

My old man, wise old man.

living with one's parents has its perks. financially the burden is less. one's mother cooks...

...

well that's about it.

having lived alone for the past 3 or more years has made living with my parents rather an uncomfortable affair. this is especially so with my father.

for the umpteenth time, i am treated like a 5 year old. i shall not expound on this.

for the umpteenth time, he disses and dismisses me for being incompetent. well, i will get him to read this blog and see if understands it. talking about incompetent.

the thing is, i have never heard a word of praise from him. there have been some but there hasnt been many. i am not seeking praise, approval, far from it. but something is sure to be wrong when disses and dismissals, hurtful and insensitive remarks are hurled at you far outweigh the good ones (if there are any).

i mean blame me for being too sensitive but can any one blame me for being so when it comes to being a blood relative.

i ponder and often boomerang this question; what have i done in my existence as your offspring to deserve such a treatment?

one of his top of the charts, Billboard top 100, that has probably been sitting on the top five list of comments is 'Just a Degree Holder in name... incapable of doing so and so things....'

Those things vary from menial task such as setting up the DVD player to fixing the bathroom door. usually when he starts his ramblings i would stop work.

his beliefs are in my capabilities are cast in stone.

i am incapable of:
- cooking for oneself (then how did i live for the past 3 years)
- independence (then what have i been doing for the past 3 years)
- intelligence (perhaps subjective but anyone should have some form of it to reach a certain level in education)

Maybe i have been seeking his approval all these while, perhaps it is time to stop.

Dave Murray, Adrian Smith, Janick Gers...

i dont think a lot has been said about Iron Maiden's guitar players. it is perhaps for reasons very obvious. they have never been on the forefront of groundbreaking guitar blazing techniques, although that is not to say that they are not technically profecient. i think they are.

like i said before, doesnt mean they are not in the headlines of groundbreaking techniques they arent. i just have to say this, not many can lay claim to have the dual (or triple) guitar attack throne and harmonising guitar melodies. Judas Priest, Thin Lizzy, the Allman Brothers were precursors to this artform. Iron Maiden took it, improved on it and made it their own.

but all in all, they have been on the forefront of the spirit of rock music. they have been true to their roots, their fans, and the gods, ghosts, angels, demons and the spirits of metal. they have been honest and sincere in wanting to entertain their fans and they have not failed. they did not drown themselves under the pretentious notion that they were going to save the world but Murray, Smith, and Gers moved mountains and lifted spirits with the sustanence of their power chords.

up the irons!

for some reason, my walking pace varies when i wear the various types of footwear. for example, i'd walk very much faster when i mean my dunlop sneakers as compared to when i have my Esprit/Zu thongs/slippers/ sandals, which i am pretty sure the pace has been pretty leisurely.

on the other hand i am quite some positive that my pace would fall somewhere in between those two when i have made my hand made leather shoes on.

how would i know that?

that difference was noticed when i walked from home, Block 217 to the bus stop near the neighbourhood market. with my sneakers, by the time i reached the bus stop, i tend to have perspired more.

perhaps it was the comfort and mobility those sneakers provide. you see, i dont like my footsteps to be heard whenever i walk. .so if i walk very very fast (on my slippers), i am positive that i would be heard. therefore, strolling through the walkways seemedd like a logical soption; glide through from point A to B.

however with that said, i must admit, i have ignored several contributing factors such as whether. we all know humidity and fashion wear is a factor. for instance, if the day seem less humid. i suppose i'd perspire less. the wearing of socks would also be an influential factor. the reason being, the body temperature is raised a notch whenever a person covers his/her feet.

well, the point is, apart from boredom and narcissm, i am still trying to get used to the humidity. (and i'd better get used to it soon!) especially due to the eventual end of the monsoon rain and coming dry season.

Critics didnt like Ang Lee's Incredible Hulk. i have no idea why is that.

seriously, it was well made, even better than Sam Raimi's Spiderman franchise. i like the artsy fartsy look of it because its meant to be that way. it is very very close to its graphic novels. sure its a bit too philosophical sometimes, and too scientific at times but that's the way it is supposed to be. is it not?

even the old tv incredible hulk. it started off very pap culture (because its the nature of most tv series back then). in the last few episodes of that series, Bill Bixby produced one of the most thought provoking, sensitive of the series. and i must say it was one of the best episodes of the series.

people didnt like this new reincarnation because they probably didnt understand it. let me say this. they probably didnt bother to understand. people like it easy. people like it laid out for them. they like it explained to them. (actually i am referring to the critics.)

and you know what usually happens when the critcs are unhappy. audiences stops watching it.

but i like it. so whatever dudes!

i have a feeling that some people think this blog is a porn-type of website... :-)

i can't help but laugh...

suckers!!!!

i am not too sure whether i have been waiting for a wee bit too long or procastinating.

have been waiting for things to happen? i am not. i have been sending my resumes out since the day i got back. nevertheless, that does not mean that i have been working hard enough. have i been scouring all the facets of the earth for a job? definitely not. sounds like a desperate man. well maybe i am and should be. but i am not merely looking for any type of job. even if i am not deterred by the idea of a manual job i certainly am not attracted by it. i have paid my dues so there's that. the lowest that i could probably go is working in a cafe. a coffeeshop isnt too bad either. car salesman.

at least my lowest isnt that high.

Lake House Vs The Constant Gardener

frankly speaking it is an unfair comparison. however, its unfairness isnt for the obvious reasons. (kind of like, fast food vs gourmet) i think both filmmakers, from actors to the directors to the gaffer to the best boy had put in their blood, sweat and tears into the project. so i will refrain from making any opinions which would tread along those lines.

nevertheless, what i would like to do is to make a rather big meal of the protagonists of both films.

the intentions of both films differ greatly. Lake House glorifies the love between the two protagonist, while Gardener focuses on its sacrifice. admittedly, although both films has had more or less a profound effect on me, the latter have the edge over the former in terms of its dramatic ending.

for the Lake House, getting together at the end of film has been done many times. so it seems lame to say the least. for the Constant Gardner in the final scene in which he awaits his inevitable death in the hands of the contract killers, cuts through the bone.

maybe the basis of that belief is laid by the strength of the characters. The Constant Gardener has real characters. the everyday man, person. no muscles from brussels, cigars from austria or Stallion from the Brooklyn. no supreme assassin instincts. no master of disguise. just a good old middle ranking diplomat.

meanwhile, Lake House seems to be a star vehicle for Bullock and Reeves. hence, the level of believability is almost non-existent, to say the least. ...well at least to me that is. it is more like the story being tailored for the actors.

perhaps. that is a forte with The Constant Gardener, that the story is more important than the actors. this is particularly so in the final scenes of the film.

he looks to the sunset, across the drought laden plains. meanwhile a truck load of contract killers arrive. they sound out his name, he looks at them briefly and turns his back on them. the director cuts the scene back to the dry plains. shots are heard. he dies. we dont see it but we know he has let himself get killed.

'when a person dies still consumated by love, his/her place is in Heaven'. - Imam Ghazali

my dear folksy groovy readers...

i hope you can forgive me for being self-indulgent for the past few days, maybe weeks, depending on your esteemed perspective.

secondly, i hope that the lack of pictures on my blog hasnt turned you away. i am sure it has turned some away. for that matter i dont think my bad writing has actually made up for the lack of its glitz and glamour. in any case, i shall not resort to such narcisstic excercise. right naomi?

ok ok.. i am going a bit too far there. i think what a person does in his or her own blog is entirely at the mercy of their hands. if one chooses to glorify oneself, so be it. it should be good for one's self esteem. if its a means to vent one's anger, so be it. the only foreseeable no no, is being explicitly, deliberately offensive. that is treading on dangerous waters my dear friends...

ok back to the original topic...

forgive me for being self-indulgent, i just miss her dearly that is all. and that with me still being a professional bummer, i suppose time is not of essence. but i am working hard. i am woking to quit this often debilitating occupation. it is quite difficult to break away once you have signed a life time contract with Mr Bummer.

on a different note, i think friends who claim they are friends but who are not and who are not willing to help willingly without any complaints shouldnt offer their services to anyone...

with that ladies and gentleman, judge and jury i bid adieu.... Ciao!