Mr. Taliban

Mr. Taliban has infuriated me. He's at it again; mindlessly executing who he pleases for a cause he blindly believes in.

The atrocities that Mr. Taliban has committed has made me extremely skeptical about his homosapien roots. His actions mirrors that of a animal; it lacks the level compassion and logical reasoning that a human being should possess.

I'm deeply appalled by his actions and it's difficult for me to swallow the fact that God has called us to love him.

The world friggin' hates you to the core.

I detest you.

3 not 8!

Multi-tasking is one thing men totally suck at. Try getting them to concentrate on one thing, say fixing the lights, and then bombard them with questions about their day. You'd probably get a shit load of nonsensical and incoherent answers or they could simply go, "Wha...?". Do count yourself lucky if they do all of that instead of lashing out at you. Men are ferocious beasts and you wouldn't want to step on the toes of one, would you?

Anyway, I'm a man, so I know. And this is why I know:

Earlier today, I was trying to make a call when I entered the elevator. While I was still punching in the numbers on my phone, I had to also push the button in the lift to get to level 3. I knew I had to press 3, but somehow, my damn finger reached out for 8!

Oh, and I forgot to mention that there was another bunch of people who were in the lift too.

They were all heading to the ground level.

They were strangers.

They were laughing at me.

And according to my friend, who was with me at that point of time, someone in that group said, "Wei She Mer (giggles) Na Ge Nan De Qu An Ba Lou (giggles)?"

Well, cause I'm a freaking guy and guys can't multi-task.

This is the second time this month I've embarrassed myself. Very nice.

Walking is Falling

Consider this:

Walking is a series of falls

Baby Ally!

Saying "Whatever" has never been cuter than this.

Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger

There's so many things you could do with Daft Punk's song, "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger". Check out the videos below:


This girl is awesome! I think I'm in love..


No, I'm not in love with the hands..

Inside Out

And with the cologne burning my sensitive armpits, I frantically searched for my polo-tee and wore it before styling my hair. A little bit of clay on my fingertips, a couple of brushes through my hair, a few twists and adjustments and I was set to go. I made a mental checklist as I put on my shoes:

Wallet? Check.

Mobile? Check.

iPod? Check.

A quick glance at the time on my mobile told me one thing - I'm running late for my 7pm appoinment at bugis; it was already 6.45pm! With that in mind, I quickened my steps, widened my strides and made my way down to the MRT.

The soft evening breeze caressed my skin softly before coming in sudden gusts. Annoyed at the fact that my hair could go totally out of shape, I felt around my head in a futile attempt to see if everything was in place. Seems to be, but I wouldn't be sure until I get to see it in a mirror. Time, however, forbade me from doing just that. I had no choice but to settle for the dark reflection of myself in the glass panes at the MRT platform.

Upon my arrival at the platform, I peered into the glass panes. My hair was alright and I thought to myself as I turned away with a narcissistic smirk, "Dang, don't I look dashing? Great polo-tee, great jeans and marvellous armpits emitting the frangant scent of Clinque Happy; how can I ever ask for more?". I couldn't resist taking another peek at my reflection to stroke my ego and when I did, I spotted an oddity in the reflection: my top had a white strip that was never there before. Peeling my eyes from the glass panes, I looked down at my top and found, to my horror, that I wore it INSIDE OUT!

Stop laughing at me.

Private Blogs

I am baffled by the concept of private blogs. Someone please enlightened me man!