can you believe it? someone stole my meiji strawberry yogurt from the office fridge! who would steal someone else's yogurt? what kind of a world do we live in?! i can understand if someone stole my car. cars have this air-of-prostitution about it, you know? like a mariachi of sorts. "come one, come all! anyone can ride me!"- thats what a car exudes. but yogurt? its worse than stealing candy from a baby. its even more morally bankrupt. its stealing snacks from a hungry lennard!

Tracks from fiona apple's yet-unreleased album 'Extraordinary Machine' have been leaked on the net (http://www.angelfire.com/wa2/nadjadee/index201.html). thats a big yay for fans, so check it out. On the record, i don't listen her cuz you know, like, dude, thats chick music, but off the record, gawd she is damnnn good! (even marilyn manson has a thing for her.)

Fred Durst (yea, that guy) (yeah, i agree- he's sooooo last millenium) has obviously ran out of what little creative juices on coming up with his bandname (limp bizkit. Fred Durst-" dude... bizkit, is like, biscuit, spelt bizkit! wes! can you write us some songs now please?"), so he's using what little man juice he has on a porn flick thats just plain NASTY, and by that i mean NASTY in a BAD way. not NASTY in a jenna haze way, but NASTY in a bad russian/thai porno way. er. not that i watch any of that shit. a friend told me...

thank you

referencing my last post, maybe i need several girlfriends, you know? like one for mind, one for body and one for soul. but then, i know noelle reads my blog so i shan't say such things. and with that statement, i have excused myself of any possible liablities to my first statement. yeahhh.

i am modifying my mountain-bike to become an aspalt demon. the knobby trail loving tires are making way for sleek road hugging ones, the handle-bars are being trimmed and the crankset changed to a 38-teeth monster that'll be eating road, pavement and kilometers with reckless abandon. i might even change the frame to a 2nd-hand one with a longer top-tube, though it is a heavier frame, but it will mean the bike will fit me better. currently the bike i'm riding, i've been using since pri. 4, so that gives you some idea. it will be so fucking gorgeous- one of a kind. a 'custom' job.

why do i need so many bikes, you may ask? well, the road bike is for speed, the bmx is for playing and messing around and hopefully if anyone reading this is feeling generous, a free-ride hardtail will be for hitting the trails, tho there's hardly any in singapore...

its time to give my bikes names.

i dub my BMX Holmer, and my soon to be road-ish bike... suggestions please?

and a big hello-how-are-you to everyone out there.

i dunno whats wrong but it seems my bike now hates me. i keep mucking up the simplest of things and crashing and what-naught. i will now take a week-long hiatus from my bi-pedal friend, because at the rate i'm going, i will develop a permenant phobia of bicycles.

i think its because i made it jealous i bought a free ride magazine and have recently been looking at pictures of road bikes on-line.

-sigh-

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The styrofoamed breast of the nanny state tastes chocolatey.

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In what was the most violent session of lo hei tossing i've experience this year, courtesy of the Gong Xi Gong Xi Police Golfing Challenge, they literally threw the lo hei at me. Is that a good thing?

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Perks of the job. I also got to drive a golf buggy today. (alternative caption: Inspector Lennard is modelling the new 2005 spring/summer Police Peak Cap in a fetching tone of PAP white with a stylish 'Mark of the Beast' logo in red)

why do you drink so much? is it because you have an issue you want to forget? or do you want to start a problem for yourself? after all, everyone needs a problem.

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Suddenly puppets don't seem so innocent. I bet the pig liked it

after tiff's crit of my previous post i feel very naked and self indugent but i wont change it because what i write stays and thats how it works.

The Plastick Funhause is a playground for the lost, a bosom to the bottle-fed repressed. Let loose a sigh and let it cradle your mind. Suckle the wholesome goodness of free machine-brewed nescafe.

Think of rats and hole-punchers and other pretty things. Your body is a shell, your mind is infinite. Crucify your soul on a sheet of A4-sized paper with a stapler. Your soul is dirty, muddy and ugly next to its wholesome chlorine-bleached goodness.

Your mother didn't love you enough, your dad was a drunk. Fuck you. His mother loved him too much, his dad was too sober. You can let it all go, just join the Plastick Funhause.

Take a deep breath, its the last you'll ever take. Everyone's a walking stereotype, so pick yours. Phonies. All phonies. We can all run away, we can be free.

The faceless mass does not exist. Do not refer to them as 'them', because you are part of it. We are the faceless mass. Embrace our anonyimity, love your abnormity. Everyone's difference is everyone's common denominator.

You've judged what I wrote and now you're judging me. You came to read what I wrote, so remember that your judgement on me reflects on you too. I can judge you too even if I don' t know you. You're probably 'nice' and scared shitless of being alone. Its okay, so am I. Sometimes, at least. You probably love Keane, and secretly you like -insert pop band here-. Its okay, I like Robbie Williams, but no I don't like Keane. You probably fear death more than you love life. And thats why I'm glad I'm not you.

lehn.

thats pretty damn cool. i uploaded the previous post (pic and text) via my mobilephone.

again i raise my stapler in a call for office anarchy! who's with me?

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Subvert the state. Join the league of government sponsored artists.

for the benefit of the few lonely webbers who check my blog for updates, its about time i gave a decent one so here goes.

Theres a story by Philip K. Dick, though i can't recall the title, about a planet where all the humans who go there mysteriously start spending all their time sitting the the fields spread out. again i'm probably bastardizing the whole story but the humans pretty much needed to photosynthesize on that planet, and thats how i've been feeling these few days, especially after being in the office for so long. I feel the need for sun on my skin, to photosynthesize some happiness. the short story can be found in the volume "Paycheck and other Classic Stories by Philip K. Dick" and i highly recommend it to anyone and everyone.

I raise my fist in a call for office mayhem and deskbound anarchy! who's with me? lets shoot staples into the air!

(_|_)

outlaw buttcrack

i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king! i am the rat king!


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rat king! rat king vs. lizard king *DING DING* FIGHT! who'll win???

i've been listening to liz phair more and more and i think its because my inner-cunt is growing.

i will stem the rising tide and go do something guy-ishly stupid.

i got birthday greetings from the most unexpected of people, and did not get any from some of those i expected. so thanks and fuck you, respectively.

i had the most awesome dream last night- for those who don't already know, i'm going to NY in august/sept for a holiday and frankly i think about it a lot. i can't wait. last night was the first night i dreamt about being there about breathing the NY air that i always see on the telly; you know what i mean, somewhat smoggy but its probably partly from the cold, partly from exhaust fumes? and i dreamt i went to stef's house (i have no idea how she got into the picture) and it was so dreary and blah it was awesome to have arrived in NY and i met hunter S. tompson.

then, karl called me and woke me up.

i love my bike. it gives me a sense of infinite freedom.

i read this off campuscaper's blog-

"Thursday, February 03, 2005


After all the leave and offs I am going to take, I have 12 working days left. I mean, 11 working days left as of today. I am happy. No words can describe such feelings. I will end my entry now"


oh my god. i feel so happy reading his entry. and this time next year (maybe even a bit sooner!), mine will read the same!

as a stopgap, i've got a fever so am on a 2 day MC, and i got friday off, so throw in the new year festivities and i've got a one week break (kinda like block leave) and an extra number to add to my age. god save the bloody queen.