Was chatting with E.S and Mumbles over MSN and in the midst of name-calling we get this from Mumbles:

"BTW, GUESS WHAT I WAS WOKEN UP BY THIS MORNING."

ha.ha.ha.

This is It

Caught the 2-hour music video with Mumbles and Elephant Shit (E.S) . Its a good documentary and I liked it but I wont say more.

Mumbles was at the ticket counter while E.S and I were fooling around with the AXS machine and we found out you could actually buy insurance there. Pressed a couple of buttons and it turns out its actually a request-for-information page where you key in your info, phone number, and preferrred time of call. Tell me, who can resist punching in someone else's info?

Name: Nxxxx Pxxx
Phone number: 987x-xxx6
Preferred time of call: 9am

I hit the "send" button but Mumbles saw what was happening and hit "cancel" exactly at the same time and we had no idea if it got sent through. Judging by the ambiguity of such requests, I suppose nothing happened.

There are no eternal friends or foes

It's 430am sunday morning.

My day started pretty late at noon, which isn't that late considering I only slept for 7 hours the night before. I double booked Friday night, and I double booked Saturday too. Stupid me.

Missed Mumble's party last night for another occasion that I shan't mention in case itbe used against me. Missed a dinner tonight in favour of a birthday party at Morton's, where I really regret what I ordered because I could only fit half of it into my entree fillled digestive system. Too much wine and too much song and I'm falling asleep at the table. Good thing I sobered up for round 2, and then wrapped it up with round 3 at Mumble's where I vegetated infront of the 60 inch screen playing Godfather part uno.

Hitched a ride home and here I am, typing this when I should be rested because I would be expected at the church pews in approximately....5 hours. Exhaustion does leave me wanting more, a strange feeling. I suppose it is the conflict in my heart and mind that keeps me awake at unearthly hours. What else could compel me to stay awake, when sweet slumber is accompanied with a jubilant spirit?

Come Together Now

I find it strange how there are times when its midweek and my weekend is still not planned out, and I begin to wonder what I should be doing and if I should even plan. And just when its Thursday morning and I resign myself to having a nice quiet weekend with the family or my books and I get a string of messages and phonecalls.

Mind you, a string or messages and phone calls while I'm DRIVING at night, just after I pull out of the guardhouse. No calls no messages in the day, nothing. Then wham, an influx.

Smile, and the world thinks you're strange

There are days when you're tired and hungry and you enter a shopping mall or a food court or some establishment and its packed to the brim. You can't feel help but feel agitated at the teeming millions for taking up your rights to space and fresh air, and sometimes, sunshine. Oh the horrors, don't these people have to work?! Why can't I find a seat?! Damn it.

Then there are other days when you're on your feet, raring to go, your eyes are peeled, you're feeling smug. The same scenario unfolds before you, only this time you notice the things you hadn't seen yesterday. The magic of the invisible hands never ceases to amaze you. The classical caretaker of the freemarkets ensuring everything's in place. Suddenly the supply and demand of goods in just that one mall overloads your mind and you think about where the dustin came from, the paint on it, the power socket on the wall, the screws on it, the tiles on the floor, the airconditioners, its parts, the signboards, the ink on it, the paper, the posters, the clothes people wear, the potted plants, the exit signs, the lights, the fixtures, the wood panelling, the soap in the toilet, the flush, the hand dryer as you walk out, the air purifier in the doughnut store, the jam in your doughnut, the eggs in the flour.

Of course, you too are part of the magic of the invisible hands and nothing can release you from its grip. But you my friend, want to be part of the supply of things, so that you may demand ferraris and GCBs while the rest of the world that you're smiling at thinks you're strange, and that the mall is just too damn crowded.

I think, therefore I am

How the hell do i shoot a 89 playing off the whites today, when I shot an 80 last thursday playing off blue at the same freaking course?! And why did I have to play that shit during a tournament, together with bets on?! How did I mess up the longest drive?! Glory to the brave my foot! Ive not been so annoyed at myself over golf!!

Nothing like a pretty face to take the rage away. Good thing at least 1 tiger beer girl was pleasing to the eye or I'd feel like shit the entire day.

Lucky thing I was in good company too. Its just a bit scary hanging out with uncle A. because he talks to everyone and jokingly talks shit to everybody and I think one day we're all gonna get hammered. For real.

I'm obviously doing myself a disservice about Friday when its without a doubt one heck of a mountaineous huge gigantic mountaineous big ass uphill 90 degree slope high altitude 99% failure climb. But still, I try. Fool.

Man on the run

Honest, good, peace loving citizens usually bask in the knowledge there are the courts of law for civil justice, and the police for law enforcement. When the unfortunate and unexpected happens, they first turn to the police, and then sometimes they weep and cry, and the shock and audacity of their perpetrator overwhelms them. Anger, rage, and hatred for the uncivilised. The police will get them, I'll sue him they say. Justice is fair.


Time passes, the rage dies down, but the hate still remains. The police say their doing their best, the court has no evidence. What can a good citizen do? Join the police and be a tough guy? Life isn't as dramatic as in the movies.


Turn to the right friends-- But some people treat them like the church, going only when there's trouble. And they dont want to be in their debt. Well the only debt is loyalty my friend.