Chicago-Street Player (12" promo)

After having heard Pitbull's I Know You Want Me, I simply had to find out which song they had sampled.

Here it is, the original track. The real thing.

Enjoy.

Chicago-Street Player (12" promo)

After having heard Pitbull's I Know You Want Me, I simply had to find out which song they had sampled.

Here it is, the original track. The real thing.

Enjoy.

Mutya Buena - B Boy Baby - Ft Amy Winehouse

Great cover eh?

Moved

http://agentsarego.blogspot.com

See my blood so now you know I really am hurting

So it was like, the part few days had sort of disappeared from my life. Gone, vapourised, annihilated. It's so depressing I choose to forget.

It was school. It was knowing that everyone around me was feeling crap. Was it the pathetic world that made everyone down?

Or maybe it's just me, polluting the existence of my friends with my toxic pessimism. It might be my fault.

So what happened exactly? I recall snippets. Saved like being in school, trying to perk myself up by acting like a perky, jovial version of me. It sort of works. People are nicer to me when they think I won't bite. Hell, maybe they even want a piece of the humour that they think i have.

Actually it's kinda sad, for if I did actually act the way I feel, I might at least got some reaffirmation that the demons in my head do actually exist, that a little understanding or even help would be great.

I keep on trying to be the guy who's always there for the friends I have. But sometimes it can be bloody hard. I'm their listener. I try to be happy for them. But where do i find my very own listener?

Screw it. I don't deserve any love or concern. I'm Superman. I'm EXPECTED to give and not take.

==

There have been snippets of happiness.



Being out with friends who matter. Having heart to heart talks. Trying to come to terms with old unresolved issues. Walking a hell while yakking it out. While watching the cars crest the hill in the silent night.

Realising that I'm a cynical bastard yet again. Realising that everything's sorta pointless if you think into it. I don't even know who I am any more. I act so hard to be happy and pleasant and to fall within the limits of normal for human behaviour. Is that my persona or is that already part of me? No one would ever believe I'm one of those who are about to tip themselves off the cliff at any time.

Just making other people feel better. But deep down, when they pour out their insides to me, I wish I could have someone listen, understand, get me through my crappy life.

I'm not worth it though.

==



There's shallow consumerism that I feel absolutely guilty for. Caving in and buying a really expensive bag I've been coveting for years.



Consumerism is shallow pleasure.

==



Even reading the final instalment of Harry Potter on release date doesn't cheer me up.



==



Pain and blood, they make me feel real again. At least people are more concerned about a superficial bloody toe than a dying soul deep in me.

I Need Some Sleep

Sleepy. Tired. Should I like, start a new blog? This one's getting nowhere.

Life Becoming a Landslide

And it's becoming more and more clear.

Life, ya know. It isn't really my kinda thing. I mean look at it. We all want to achieve and do well and be happy. That's like 100% of the world.

And achievement is defined by the normal curve. When you define success, you define failure too. Not everyone succeeds.

And what's the point of life if one grows old and dies as a lowly worker whose ambitions to be a great author had never happened. There he is, taking the early bus to work just like he'd been doing for the past 4 decades, so jaded at the world he doesn't give a damn if anyone stares at him for digging his nose with his pinkie.

I don't have what it takes to be successful. I don't have what it takes to be happy. I'd fail anyway. Why do I even bother?

Last night I had a compelling urge to end it all. But it isn't good enough. I'd be doing my education and intelligence an injustice if I don't even know how to die cleanly and successfully. Tactics, comrades, tactics!

Moonshine

There's not enough alcohol to keep me sedated and nice like a good boy in the fridge so I'm half-fucked drunk so that I'm all crazy and all but I can't freaking sleep which is the main purpose I want to get myself all drunk.

I'm not able to sleep knowing that everything is just so fucked up, that it's all my fault and I'm fucked up and crazy and I don't even know to believe what others say or what I believe or what I feel or what I think or when the alcohol speaks to me. Is it my fault or am I just lousy in which case it's also my fault or is it just the world sucks and I'm the one who always loses out in the end? But people don't just lose out. They gotta fail to lose our and in that case it's my fault. No matter how I look at it it's my fault.

I deserve to be macerated, left to rot, ripped apart in the cold.

I fucking hate life and for the first time in a long while I truly wish I were truly dead. True, the idea of death sends my heart racing on some nights lying in bed mulling about things, or in the shower staring at the burnished metal pipes.

Fuck life.

There's too much pain in my head, too protracted a civil war in my mind. SOMEONE FUCKING KILL ME BEFORE I LOSE MY MIND AND GO FOR THE KILL.

Killing in the name of

I'm the bulletproof monk who survived a whole day of especially harrowing school today! Was grilled, charbroilled, etc during one of the tutorials, though I've experienced worse. I've been to hell and back so there's not much that I can't survive. Those who know about my traumatic surgical end of posting test will understand.

Yay.

Somehow feeling mechanical today. Board the bus. Right hand on door rail, left hand tapping my ez-Link card, monkeybar my way into the bus, balance myself, with the exact precision needed to just keep myself balanced during the bumpy bus ride.

Get off the bus, get through the day, make small talk. Put on a happy front. And don't feel happy or sad or anything because it's just a routine. A series of many dance steps. Heave ho.

Yay.

Went for a good jog in Bishan Park and well, despite just barely recovering from a shitty bout of sinusitis, I could zip through the western half without being overtaken once. And overtaking a number of people who were dressed way sportier than me, in all their synthetic fabric singlets and all.

The only thing sporty about my attire are my high end shoes, but as you already know, shoes DO matter - they're the things that make physical contact with the ground, and determines how stably you can go. Yay.

There's this thing about me that fantasises about being an underdog - looking like the one who would never make it, the one with nothing to his name - then winning it all. Sorta like, a fetish for Q-cars such as those MPS Mazdas where they put in a humongous engine in slightly-modified bodies of their normal saloon cars, for insane power-to-weight ratio. With barely a hint of sports styling.

Well, I smoked them all wearing a cheapo pair of shorts and an old oversized cotton tee. Granted, loose, floppy clothing increase my coefficient of drag, and make me feel like I'm drenched in my own stifling sweat, but that's fine print.

I win.

Yay.

Oh, I got banned in an online forum in support of my fallen comrades (no, they're more than just online friends) who had been unreasonably banned too.

Yay.

Do the Hippogriff

Yay Cong's back from the US and A. And he have a Cultural Learnings to share with everyone. But damn, everyone else we know are busy with one thing or another, so it's just the 2 of us.

Scrambled to look for tickets for Hairy Potty and the Order of the Phoenix. Cathay's totally booked when I checked at 9.30am, as in, 2nd row from the front. But yay, Cong managed to get some pretty good tix at Eng Wah Suntec. (It's sorta hidden from the rest of town so there's always seats there - in fact, I've watched Spidey 3 there on opening day and that's without booking.)



So how was it? Cong says it's pretty damned good, because it's confident enough to stand on its own, without having to support itself word for word from the novel. I found it quite a bit weaker than Goblet of Fire - the magic simply isn't as magical any more. And while admittedly the book is the crappiest so far, it's rather sacrilegious to rework the story so much and pare off the subplots and simplify the main plot into one swift vignette. And well, Luna Lovegood is supposed to be way more lovable than this.

Goblet of Fire was much better. Cooler visuals, a more engaging plot that followed the book nicely, and hey, it was a killer soundtrack with Jarvis Cocker on board.

Oh well, Cong told me how he liked US and A, and how everything's sorta sweeter and funner and brighter and more alive there. Instead of sterile Singapore where everything bores the hell outta you. Sigh. Every year I rot in NUS, I lose a thousand more brain cells. In this hellhole where I have to conform against my wishes just to keep afloat.


I hate flyers. Ha. Ha. Very funny.

Walked a hell lot, crapping about Dating Theory and How Singapore Sucks and all, stopping by some shops here and there. CD shops. Stuff. Crumpler bags are hell of expensive. Damn. And stuff in the US and A is sometimes ridiculously cheap online if you know the right places, so that's one major Cool Plus Point. We're both so bored of Orchard.

Cong's meeting some friends, so I went home and all. Tried to do some revision, but damn, only lasted half an hour.

And diabolical plan to ship Crumpler bag from USA to save money fell through. Shipping's insane.

I'd Do Anything for Love (but I Won't Do That)

Pardon the OMGWTF title but yeah, I did make meatloaf.

The morning was a bike ride, after not having touched the bike for a long while. Thankfully, no mechanical faults. And I rode rather decently for a guy recovering from a bad flu. But the bike was so dirty I gave it a good towelling down after the ride.

But there was nothing - nothing at all at home that I could use, so, whatdoIdo? Off to the nearby NTUC! It rocks to have a newly-opened hypermart just 3 bus-stops away.



But it's a Saturday, and it's really crowded. Put my people-dodging skills to good use. As a cyclist, I've been trained to watch out for where people are going and to pre-empt and stuff. So, I can zip through crowds pretty much better than most anyone there.



The spoils! Turned out there were Simpsons tees on sale at Bossini. And no, I can't say no to The Simpsons. Heck, it's only $26 for 2 for movie tees. AMK Bossini has great service. Great, as in they offered to help me with those bags of NTUC stuff and all when I struggled to find some place to put them down. Kudos to them!



On the way back in a stupid Volvo B9TL. Hate those Nauseamaschinen which gotta shift through all 6 gears just to get to speed. And when the driver signals, the whole bus fills with the annoying beep of an emergency room cardiac monitor. And they're freaking everywhere! Not just in Bishan, but in the whole of Singapore. And even in Hong Kong.



Before. Meeeeeat. Actually I cheated. I mixed in potatoes and chicken into the beef to keep costs low and healthiness high.



Got into a small disaster when I tried to mash undercooked potatoes with a fork. Ended up mashing the softer parts, dicing the harder parts. Which was a bad idea cause the whole meatloaf ended up a weird consistency in the end. Added spices, onions, tomato.



It's not THAT bad, but it's a minor disappointment. Maybe ground beef just ain't my kinda thing. And it's definitely too little beef, and too much potatoes and chicken, cause it didn't taste very meaty.



Served with veges. And also garlic toast. And red wine. Oh well, at least my family finished it.



And then I was drunk.

I'm drunk

teeheehee

Where is my mind?

Blogging from the hospital library.

And I dunno, I was doing quite okay, going on my solo sprees of medical interviewing, in order to hone in my skills. Did quite okay - and in Chinese. Usually I'm pretty retarded when interviewing in Chinese, but hey, this time round I did get the facts quite nicely.

So into another ward I went into to do the same.

And it was a cancer ward. People on Do Not Resus and people who have so much optimism in them, you'd think it's blanket denial of the dire truth that the more unfortunate ones are almost definitely going to die soon.

Couldn't take it, and here I hide in the library instead.

King For A Day

Random song:
Green Day - King For A Day
Started at the age of 4.
My mother went to the grocery store.
Went sneaking through her bedroom door to find something in a size 4.

Sugar and spice and everything nice wasn't made for only girls.
GI Joe in panty hose is making room for the one and only.

King for a day, princess by dawn.
King for a day in a leather thong.
King for a day, princess by dawn.
Just wait 'til all the guys get a load of me.

My daddy threw me in therapy.
He thinks I'm not a real man.
Who put the drag in the drag queen.
Don't knock it until you tried it

Yeah I still do feel sick and everytime I blow my nose and try to get rid of the gooey crud that's been sitting in my sinuses for days and growing various kinds of bacteria, I'm afraid the vessels in my nose will burst again.

Because I'd never forget last night when I blew my nose and instead of stringy mucous, blood sputtered out. Scrambled to pack my nostril with tissue paper the way I usually do. About time. I average one nosebleed a year, while none of my family members ever seem to have them.



Be careful of what you wish for. In a way I don't mind falling ill as it's a convenient excuse to take things easy. But what I got in the end is feeling sick the whole of the next day. Cold. Hot. Cold. Hot. Blocked nose. Woozy. Diarrhoea. (The last one was from all that ice cream from last night.)

Interrupted sleep from 11am to 12pm. Add that to the 3h nap the previous afternoon and that's a OMFG amount of sleep. It's sort of convenient sleeping so much from being sick, so that I can avoid the world. But it's nasty.

==

But I won't get me down.

Sorta stoned on the computer reading random non-school-related stuff on Wikipedia. And it's sorta cool when you read up on aviation and its accidents and realise how little it takes to crash a plane full of passengers. Repair a damaged plane's tail with too few rivets, and and 12000 flights later, the whole vertical stabiliser breaks and the whole plane goes down.

There's so much precision involved in keeping a metal behemoth floating with 10km of thin air between it and the hard ground. So much physics and engineering involved. Rocket science. Literally.



But well, as for the pilot, who's always glamorised way more than the aerospace engineers, all he does is to flip the controls and let autopilot do most of the work. Disappointing really, you'd expect the pilot to have a much tougher job than to push the levers and do the occasional radio comms to the air traffic controller. The bus driver who gets you through the harrowing traffic and to your school or workplace has a more exhausting job.

I have a new-found respect for the captains of the Volvo Olympians I commute in.

==

Went out with the old guard of secondary school friends and hell, it was fun, just crapping about just like we did since we were 15. I won't let feeling sick get me down. In fact, the grogginess made it easier for me to act silly and happy and all.

Can someone crash a car into me just so hard that I knock my head and a concussion just hard enough for me to lose all my memories from secondary school onwards? Then I'd have to repeat secondary school and be happy all over over again.

Pizza Hut. The New cheese thingie is really quite good. But the pizza's tiny. A friend was looking at another friend's travel photos as though it was a mail order bride catalogue, which was hilarious.



Boy, do I miss them. They're the ones who kept me sane when I was sorta kooky in secondary school. I guess, it's them who had managed to get me through life thus far. They might not feel it, but it's so true.

==



Spotted a couple of days back. SMRT should really keep their posters up to date.

Oxygen

You talk of oxygen as Science teachers do
I have never doubted what was true
But now I can live without oxygen
I am proud of my hypoxic condition

Woozy, groggy, floating in the lumpy wool
Like a massive airliner on the spool
Ten thousands metres above you
A world so alone and so icy cool

I don't need your oxygen if all I must do
Is float.
I don't care if I
Crash.

==

You guessed it. I'm feeling quite sick and woozy today.

Everlong

Saturday. So I had to, like, wake up totally groggy and sick at an unearthly 7am for the movie. What movie? Well, it's The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, and I watched it with my closer classmates, SH, KW, J and HC. The 4some who watched Death Note and crapped with together the other time!

And we came across this ueberly cool shop that sells toyish stuff, and there's a toy where you put it in sunlight and its cute little head bops left and right. It's solar-powered! yay for photovoltaic cells! The teacher I did relief teaching was a couple of years back had a similar ornament on her desk, which was leaves rather than a head, which always mesmerised me totally.

There's one that glows in the dark, and it's sorta stupid because if it's dark, the head won't bop in the first place! Then HC had to spoil it all by saying that it isn't the original one. Bleagh. Didn't buy it.

Yoshinoya's disappointing again. I just can't seem to gety myself to like stringy beef and plain rice...

Went shopping around with KW and he's gonna buy this totally expensive collar tee from Lacoste (reverse Crocodile, as I call it) which is like, something I'd never do! Well, expensive preppy fashion is not my kinda thing. It doesn't look all that eye-catching, and I really can't afford it. But hey, I guess it's to fit in in some more formal social situations.

As for GAP, oh forget it, they're America's Giordano and Bossini sold at designer prices.

Vivocity next to meet a friend! Yay! Oh and playing Phoenix Wright (forcing myself to finish the damned game since I'm almost done with it anyway) along the way. I daresay it's gonna be a forgettable game, apart from the absurdly humorous situations like taking a parrot to the witness stand.



Oh and there's Live Earth on TV (and 89.3FM, TVMobile's audio channel) and that's pretty cool. Literally stayed up the night to watch Keane (blah), Linkin Park (Chester Bennington really messed up his singing, he's off key most of the time), Beastie Boys (they're twice as good as they were when tehy performed in Good Vibratiosn Festival in Singapore) and the Foo Fighters. OMFG Foo Fighters were excellent! I could just watch them again, and again, and again. The semi-acoustic rendition of their classic Everlong was so good, I don't think any of their performances will ever top that.

That was 5am.

==

Woke again at 9am to catch the Smashing Pumpkins, but online streaming was down and I have no idea what time Channel 5 gonna show it, oh well, I'll give it a miss.



They got new things on the railroad ties on the MRT system nowadays. Are they like some position sensing thing to aid braking?

Sunday afternoon was spent having fun with Ryan in City Hall area, and Soup Spoon's great stuff. Their clam chowder rocks. Creamy, clammy, chowdery.



There seems not to be any really nice red T-shirts around, I gotta renew my repertoire of red tees. Some are baggy, others worn, one plain ugly. Oh damn. Somehow I have this fetish in red, and anyone who wears red - including me - look twice as they would in any other colour.

Went off to Marina Square, and the damn fever's back with a vengeance.



WZ's birthday party, and all the old secondary school mates are there. They're all doing different things - some on scholarships, others on the Dean's List, but all except me have achieved something they really can be proud of. Oh fuck me. I feel like I've wasted my life or something. Hey no matter what somebody has to fill the last place, no?

But deep deep inside, they're still the same old people we used to have fun with together. Very nice, I like.



Lerk Thai's food was not bad, some hits, some misses, but I personally prefer Thai Express for their in-your-face kinda dishes.







The lemongrass drink is surprisingly palatable, considering how the strong smell of home-grown lemongrass in my balcony often sickens me. It's probably just the sugar/blocked nose/delirium from fever.

A bunch of us planned to drink after that, but it was getting late and logistics weren't on our side. Heck, I was too delirious from feeling feverish to drink anyway.

==

Monday. School.

Richie: What happens if you forget to flush in the aeroplane toilet and then you hit turbulence?
Me: The shit hits the fan.

Met with Richie for lunch, then Sim Lim. Richie needs a USB hard disk enclosure for a spare hard disk, and I need a hard disk enclosure and a new hard disk, for all the photos and music and videos.

After loads of walking around looking for the best prices and colours for hard disk enclosures, here it is:



Vantec Nexstar 3 SATA > eSATA + USB

No Leaf Clover

I haven't blogged lately.

Instead of leaving this space blank and leaving you walking out of this dead blog with a bad taste in your mouth, I'm putting in a summary which I will fill in when I feel

1. less harried by everything around me
2. better from my bout of illness
3. like I want to blog again, it seems like the audiences are fatigued and have stopped commenting and coming in regularly, so hey you, there. Come visit more often!

==

What I'll fill you in about:

Saturday - details, morning movie (review already done), preppy fashion in Singapore (which I just can't understand - what's with $100 collar tees and all - and oh GAP sucks), Vivocity, Live Earth FOO FIGHTERS AND BEASTIE BOYS ROCK MY SOCKS

Sunday - Soup Spoon, Lerk Thai - food reviews. Friendships, how people change, but deep deep down inside, they're mostly the same.

Monday - school hit the fan effed up, clementi jap lunch, SLS with Richie, Vantec Nexstar 3 hard disk enclosure

==

But it's late and I'm tired now and I'm procrastinating this entry. Call me cheap, but cheap, tabloidy 'don't miss our next issue' pages do bring in the audiences!

The Girl Who Leapt Through Time

I had no idea what this movie was about when I was dragged into it by my bunch of closer classmates. I guess I trust their taste and all. However, what was the clincher was that the movie was created in part by Yoshiyuki Sadamoto who's the character designer in my favourite anime series ever, Neon Genesis Evangelion.

The Girl Who Leapt Through Time is, well, self explanatory. It's about a girl who can leap through time! After finding herself saved from a fatal bicycle accident by a time leap, she slowly discovers how she could make use of it to get what she wants, although with sometimes dire consequences.

While it contains sci-fi elements and a fair dose of the typical time travel themes (boy do we get so sick of them), the film is largely a romantic comedy.

Funny most of the way but tragic at times, it explores the sweetness and innocence of teen love.

Really, there's hardly any sci-fi so the time travel thing shouldn't turn the female audience off.

While the feel-good factor of the film works out really well, it's also quite a forgettable one. Sorta like Meet The Robinsons, only Japanese.

Thank You

Gaston: Dismissed! Rejected! Publicly Humiliated! Why, it's more than I can bear.
LeFou: More beer?
Gaston:What for? Nothing helps. I'm disgraced.
- Beauty and the Beast

I'm Not OK (I Promise)

Nah, not an emo post, but a post explaining the lack of an emo post for today.

I've got a nasty cold bug. And I feel feverish though I didn't bother to go measure it.

Hot. Cold. Sleep. Wake. I look at the clock and it's 11pm but it doesn't feel like it at all. My biological clock's fried.

Bad day, cause I'm ultra cranky when I feel unwell and nobody understands that. Get on my nerves and I'll trounce onto your nerves doubly hard.

And I gotta wake at 7am tomorrow in time for a movie. Gee.