#52 - HAPPYBIRTHDAYMS.ANG!

To my our class teacher from Std. 4 - 6:

Happy birthday! Thank you for everything that you've done for us. You've not only taught us well in terms of education, but you've also guided us in life. We may have made you angry and/or disappoint you time and time again last time, we're terribly sorry. We were all so naive and immature. It has been 4 years since we graduated. I certainly cannot imagine how our life would be if we never got you as our class teacher. You're definitely THE BEST teacher ever.

Random person/Us

Hey, who was your class teacher last time?
Oh, we got Ms. Ang.
COOOL I HEARD SHE'S DAMN NICE! Unlike mine, so *removed* i don't like him/her at all. You guys are so lucky to get her.

We can't help but to feel honoured, blessed, and thankful for having you as our class teacher whenever the scenario above happens ;P

Oh and we've all heard about you finally giving birth to your very first angelic child. On behalf of the rest of the 6I-ians, CONGRATULATIONS!!!! Your baby is really REALLY CUTE!! Your baby has no idea how lucky she is to have you as her mother. She truly is blessed indeed. ;D

Well I guess that is it I have to write, as always, wishing you the best of luck and once again, congratulations on your first child!! Have a great day!!!



Yin Ling, James and the rest of the 6I-ians (:

#48 - Sunway Pyramid Gathering IV ( "Report" )

Shao Jun and I got there early ( approximately 10.30am ) to get the 2012 tickets, since *removed* scared the tics sold out/queue very long. Soo, when we got there, there was only like, 3ppl queuing up == Maybe it's because it was still early ( 10.30am weih, == I should be getting my beauty sleep )

Anyways, we got the tickets and left for McD to meet up with the rest. Wei Shiuan and Natalie treated the Birthday Boy a slice of Secret Recipe's Chocolate Indulgence. FIEN LA, LIKE THAT LA NOW, ONLY BUY FOR HIM, NOT ME, FIEN FIEN FIEN By the time we got back to the cinema, THE WHOLE CINEMA WAS FILLED WITH PPL. Thank God we bought em early, or we'll miss the 11.45am show and the "Early Bird" Special Price.

2012 is definitely a must watch movie. It is filled with *insertteknikplothere* and you won't feel like blinking, not even once so that you won't miss any part of the movie. LOL I rate it 10/10.

Then, it was lunch time. Meng Hoe and Galvin had lunch on their own as they got a low budget. The rest had PappaRich. Whenever we, TEENAGERS, have meals at anywhere, why is it that THOSE BEEPING WAITER/WAITRESS JUST GOTTA TREAT US LIKE, SHIT? == What's their problem, right? I think next time before entering some restaurant, we should show them some cold hard cash first, then they might reconsider the way they serve us. So annoying gosh.

After lunch, walked around, went to both arcades ( 1 beside the skating rink, 1 beside the cinema ) had some fun, wasted some cash there. Saw some ghey fags and lala-zhais dance at the "Para Para Paradise" Machine and the other one. Forgot the name of that game, but it involves both legs and hands.

Then it was time to go home. Boohoo. (sarcasm)


UnFortunately, barely any pics were taken because none of us had the "Camwhore Gene" in us. ;D LOLOL

But, I did take a picture of the Birthday Boy doing....

PARA PARA PARADISE 2ND MIX OMG
GHEY~!!

Once again, Happy 15th Birthday to Tissue King. ;D

yinling
i know, this post is sooo boring. lazy elaborate lah. lulz

#47 - HAPPY15THBIRTHDAYJAMESCHUPERSHENG

The Evolution of James...

from this... ( eugene is beside him, btw LOL)

to this..

and then this...

and now, this. SO GHEY~!!

HAPPY 15TH BIRTHDAY
MR EFG
aka
JAMES CHU PER SHENG
aka
JAMUS
aka
KAMUS
aka
TISSUE KING


whatever happened to the Tissue Factory.
Hmm, i wonder ;P

welcome to the AYAM 15 YEARS OLD GROUP!


HAVEFUNIN"DISNEYLAND"YOUSONUVA
;D

yinling

#45 - HAPPY15THBIRTHDAYTUNGYUYU

this is why i love facebook
i can steal your latest pics from there ;D

wenjing & bday girl

HAPPY BIRTHDAY YUYU aka SHAKE SHAKE~!!
*inserts Metro Station - Shake It song*

omg when was the last time we met :/
i tell you, you should, no wait.
you MUST come the next gathering :D

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

once again ( yes, AGAIN. )
WELCOME TO THE I AM 15YEARS OLD GROUP
this is getting old, blah. D:

yinling aka bowlbell
only yuyu can call me that MUAHAHA, others stfungtfo kthxbai

#43 - HAPPY15THBIRTHDAYFOONGYINYING

fuyoohh, DSLR weih, dont play play ;p

std 6 days. woo~
L to R
BIRTHDAY GIRL OMG, yi mann, natalie


HAPPY 15TH BIRTHDAY YINYING!
May all your wishes come true~
And, like what I usually say to every other birthday boy/girl,

WELCOME TO THE I AM 15 YEARS OLD group. :D

yinling

#39 - HAPPY15THBIRTHDAYJOSIAHGOHERNLEE

Yeah i know i'm supposed to be studying my ass off right now, but for teh sake of this dude, i decided to take a little time off from mah eleventh hour intense studying to wish :

MR.ILOVEGERMANNAZIANDALSOANYTHINGRELATEDTOWARSOMG ILOVETHEMOHSOMUCHOHANDDIDIMENTION IALSOLOVEADOLFHITLEROMGHEISSOSOSOSOKEWL IJUSTWISHIHADTHECHANCETOMEETHIM BUTTOOBADTHATDOUCHEBAGPOISONEDHIMSELF ANDLATERONSHOOTINGHIMSELFINTHEHEADBEFOREMYPARENTSWEREEVENBORN. JOSIAH GOH ERN LEE.

and also simon cowell LOL.

To have the first day of pmr to fall exactly on your birthday..damn you must be someone eh? just treat it as a wonderful wonderful present from teh government. ;D

Well, since it's your birthday, luck will be definitely be on your side, so don't stress out too much orait? Have fun LOL.

PS : If i don't get straight A's for PMR, i blame you for making me sacrifice my precious time to write this post.



EFG.

#34 - HAPPY15THBIRTHDAYJOANNEGUAN

( L to R )

ong chin leang, JOANNE GUAN, tay ying qi, EFG at teh back


gahh, it's been a while since i last saw you.
i think the last time i saw you was.....
2 years ago perhaps?

meh.

anyways, just wishing you a
HAPPY 15TH BIRTHDAY~!!

#31 - HAPPY15THBIRTHDAYTEEHSINYEE

HAPPY 15TH BIRTHDAY~!!!!


welcome to the "im 15 yrs old group"
;D

yes i say that to almost all of my friends LOL

and i dont have any present pics of you, soo...yah! ;D

#30 - HAPPY15THBIRTHDAYTEOJIAYIN

face has been replaced to prevent discrimination and to protect privacy issues

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JIA YIN~!!

sorry for posting this late.

namun,
bak kata pepatah :

better late than never (:

may all your wishes come true.


and please dont come hunting me with parangs cause i post those pics up ;D

#20 - HAPPY BELATED!

NATALIE! WEN JING! HAPPY BELATED! sorry so late yea(:
you both old liao lor* x) of course i can say that since i'm not 15. YET.
aiks. can't go gathering. no transport. :( so. bye bye another gathering.
why lah joanne live SO FAR! o.o
have fun for the gathering(;

yours truly,
JOANNE!

#19 - HAPPY15THBIRTHDAYWENJING&NATALIE

CHIA WEN JING

focus -> girl on left

focus -> girl on left


and

NATALIE CHOONG ZHI HERN

focus -> girl on right

she's bringing sexy back

focus -> girl in middle with striped shirt

HAPPY 15TH BIRTHDAYYYYYY!!!!!!!!
both of you are getting olderrrrr~
okay fine, be positive.

welcome to the

IM 15 YEARS OLD GROUP

(:

tatas

#16 - Sunway Lagoon Anyone?

As i promised, i'm supposed to post another epic story, but for teh sake of a certain someone's reputation, i decided not to..though it's soooo epic..D:




BUT....



Another epic incident happened in my school DURING the last day of exams...this time it wasn't only me but teh whole class was also involved...technically...but this won't be as epic as teh inicident i mentioned earlier...its epicness is >9000!!

In before Get to the point already..well if you're not interested to witness teh epicness..you can always scroll all teh way down..it's gonna be a loooooongcat post so for those who are willing to witness teh epicness..i would suggest you to take something to chew on..;D


It's such a waste to not post teh incident which has the epicness of >9000...wonder what's going on in her mind.*sigh*

Oh wellz...no point sulking crying over spilt milk right? here's what happened in my class during teh last day of exam..which was on thursday (28/7/09)...

After recess we had two more exams..which was Seni and BM paper 1 (don't ask me why is BM the last paper...i don't know either..= =")....we had our seni papers 1st and it was moral period...which means to say free period..considering the fact that my class has exceptionally lots of free period..why do i say that? that's because..

• Moral (3 periods) - The teacher is pregnant so she's on maternal leave for i-have-no-idea months.

• Seni (2 periods) - It's the same fuxxing teacher.

• Sivik (2 periods) - Our teacher is the effing pengetua of teh school..the ONLY time he came into our class was during teh 1st week of school..after that he didn't showed up anymore..and i don't think he'll ever will..and teh school was too fuxxing lazy to change a teacher...*coughthankyoucough*

• Total Free Periods = 7 periods..cool eh? ;D
  

So since it was moral period...a relief teacher came into our class..and ironically it was a trainee...since she was a trainee...my our class decided to bully her ;D..when she started the papers..we treated teh exam like a joke...throughout the exam we were making noise..and we were LITERALLY copying each other's paper...how literal?

Me : Eh what's the answer for this question ah?
Friend 1(in front of me) : Here. (shows me his paper)
Me : Are you sure that's the answer??
Friend 1: i'm not sure actually ask someone else lah.
Me : Wei! *whistles*
Friend 2(two tables away from me) : ?
Me : What did you put for question ___?
Friend 2: *looks at the paper*...B
Me : Question ___ leh?
Friend : *looks again* i think it's D.
Me : Wokkay.

And teacher didn't even realize we were copying...cause she was too busy trying to keep us quiet..;D...30 mins left til the exam finishes and we're all finished copying *coughdoingcough* our papers...so while waiting for teh exam to finish...i was too bored and decided to do something lame....like trying to balance as many pencil as possible on the tip of my fingers..so i started off to balance one on the index finger..not much of a challange..then i tried to balance another one on my pinky finger at the same time...i did it eventually...then i got a lil' carried away and tried to balance 5 pencils with each on each finger..while i was in the middle of doing that......

Some Dude : Look at James and his balancing skillz wei!
Me : ?
Whole Class : *turns at look at me* WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH~!!1one1!!one
Me : LOL! *lose balance and drops all pencils*

After that the teacher confiscated ALL my stuffs....

Teacher : *comes to my table and confiscate ALL my stuffs*
Me : TEACHER!! WHAT DID I DO?!?!
Teacher : You made noise..
Me : ME MAKE NOISE?!?!? IT'S THEM WHO MADE NOISE. I'M INNOCENT I TELL YOU...INNOCENT!
Teacher : Queit.
Me : I DIDN'T EVEN SAY I SINGLE WORD AND YOU BLAME ME?! WHAT IS THIS?!?
Teacher : Talk summore and i'll tear your paper in half.
Me : Wokkay.

So in the end i stuffs got all consficated and then she handed it to another relief teacher..but this this it was a senior teacher...

Senior Teacher : Who's stuff is this?
Me : *raises hand* *class looks at me* Mine.
Teacher : What did you do?? Why did the teacher rampas your stuffs?
Me : How the heck would i know..i didn't even make any noise..i'm innocent!
Teacher : *turns to another student* why is his stuff here?
Me : I told you! i'm fecking innocent!!
Teacher : Am i talking to you?? turn in front.
Me : *facepalm*

Then i took a pencil from my friend since i wanted to do some changes in my paper...after that i started balancing it on my pinky again...then the teacher came by..

Teacher : Can you stop disturbing people?
Me : Who's disturbing people??
Teacher : Oh fine smarty pants..you're actions are attracting other students..
Me : Well no one asked them to look at me right?
Teacher : *dulans* SLEEP.

After that the exam was over..the teacher collected the papers and we were allowed to leave our seats...After that the teacher went and asked a random student..and i happened to overheard it..

Teacher : Actually who's the monitor of the class?
Student : *gives out a huge chuckle*.
Teacher : What's so funny?
Student : Nothing.
Teacher : Well if you see him tell him to give these stuff back to the boy.
Student : *laughs* al..right
Teacher : *gives her one look while she leaves*

After that we had our final paper for the exams...i don't have much to say about this cuz we were all serious about it..after that our class went amok and started screaming when the teacher collected the final paper..


So yeah..i think that's about it i can blog about.


I Lied.

Here comes the main point of the post...since exams are over....anyone interested to go for one last trip to sunway lagoon before PMR comes? ;D

This is just a suggestion btw, we'll will talk about over msn...i'll be on 24/7 so pm me and suggest me a date and time if you're interested..confirmation will be posted on a different post.

That is all.

I guess without the crappy story this will be the shortest post ever posted.

So yeah..i think that's about it i can blog about....srzly.

PS : I would riek to take this opportunity to wish Chia Wen Jing a Happy Belated 15th Birthday.

EFG.

#13 - Guess Whose Birthday !!

11th of May .....


Guess whose birthday ??? (let's see how many of u can remember, hehe^^ )

lastest pic of Kar Yih ^^

Name: Chiew Kar Yih

D.O.B: 11-5-1994

Present school : SMK Subang Jaya (if i am not mistaken)

Happy birthday to Kar Yih !!!!

Wish u good luck in your coming exam !!!

By ,
Nat

#12 - Me...?? Spreading Chicken Pox....???

I is are back (by popular demand of course, pop a confetti if you will)for moar epicness~!!

Alright...before i start..lemmeh get a few things straight 1st, In before 'don't be lazy & go create your own blog lah zomg..this is a SHARED blog and not ur personal blog' for those slowpokes out there who are reading my blog post..please stfu and pay attention to teh shoutbox..i got teh approval from teh admin so you have the right to remain stupid silent..and for those newfags out there..i'm sure you wouldn't know the term 'in before'..that's simply because you don't go to websites such as *enter website here*..which is good..unless you're like a certain someone *coughshaojunandherbrothercough* who always occasionally enters those websites..(for more details..please refer to shao jun..thank you =D)

Alright...in before is a corruption of the Occupatio technique which presumably originated on 4chan at least 100 years ago, but has since spread like wildfire over the Internets. It is used as a first reply to meme-baiting posts in order to thoroughly pwn the noob who started the thread as well as ruin the fun of all future posters to that thread. Unfortunately, faggots generally carry on regardless..'whenever you feel like criticizing any one, just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.'And just how many people could there be in such a circle, here close to the top of the Western Slope? The Roydmans, Annie Wilkes, maybe ten or twelve others? And just because it hadn't been found so far didn't mean it wouldn't be found. His vivid imagination (which he had not gotten from anyone on his mother's side of the family) now took over. The cop was tall, handsome in a cold way, his sideburns perhaps a bit longer than regulation. He was wearing dark sunglasses in which the person being questioned would see his own face in duplicate. His voice had a flat Midwestern twang. We've found an overturned car halfway down Humbuggy Mountain which belongs to a famous writer named Paul Sheldon. There's some blood on the seats and the dashboard, but no sign of him. Must have crawled out, may even have wandered away in a daze - That was a laugh, considering the state of his legs, but of course they would not know what injuries he might have sustained. They would only assume that, if he was not here, he must have been strong enough to get at least a little way. The course of their deductions was not apt to lead to such an unlikely possibility as kidnapping, at least not at first, and probably never. Do you remember seeing anyone on the road the day of the storm? Tall man, forty-two years old, sandy hair? Probably wearing blue jeans and a checked flannel shirt and a parka? Might have looked sort of bunged up? Hell, might not even have known who he was? Annie would give the cop coffee in the kitchen; Annie would be mindful that all the doors between there and the spare bedroom should be closed. In case he should groan. Why, no, officer - I didn't see a soul. In fact, I came back from town just as quick as I could chase when Tony Roberts told me that bad old storm wasn't turning south after all. The cop, setting down the coffee cup and getting up: Well, if you should see anyone fitting the description, ma'am, I hope you'll get in touch with us just as fast as you can. He's quite a famous Person. Been in People magazine. Some other ones, too. I certainly will, officer! And away he would go. Maybe something like that had already happened and he just didn't know about it. Maybe his imaginary cop's actual counterpart or counterparts had visited Annie while he was doped out. God knew he spent enough time doped out. More thought convinced him it was unlikely. He wasn't Joe Blow from Kokomo, just some transient blowing through. He had been in People (first best-seller) and Us (first divorce); there had been a question about him one Sunday in Walter Scott's Personality Parade. There would have been rechecks, maybe by phone, probably by the cops themselves. When a celebrity - even a quasi-celebrity like a writer disappeared, the heat came on. You're only guessing, man. Maybe guessing, maybe deducing. Either way it was better than just lying here and doing nothing. What about guardrails? He tried to remember and couldn't. He could only remember reaching for his cigarettes, then the amazing way the ground and the sky had switched places, then darkness. But again, deduction (or educated guesswork, if you wanted to be snotty) made it easier to believe there had been none. Smashed guardrails and snapped guywires would have alerted roadcrews. So what exactly had happened? He had lost control at a place where there wasn't much of a drop, that was what - just enough grade to allow the car to flip over in space. If the drop had been steeper, there would have been guardrails. If the drop had been steeper, Annie Wilkes would have found it difficult or impossible to get to him, let alone drag him back to the road by herself. So where was his car? Buried in the snow, of course. Paul put his arm over his eyes and saw a town plow coming up the road where he has crashed only two hours earlier. The plow is a dim orange blob in the driving snow near the end of this day. The man driving is bundled to the eyes; on his head he wears an old-fashioned trainman's cap of blue-and-white pillowtick. To his right, at the bottom of a shallow slope which will, not far from here, deepen into a more typical upcountry gorge, lies Paul Sheldon's Camaro, with the faded blue HART FOR PRESIDENT sticker on the rear bumper just about the brightest thing down there. The guy driving the plow doesn't see the car; bumper sticker is too faded to catch his eye. The wing-plows block most of his side-vision, and besides, it's almost dark and he's beat. He just wants to finish this last run so he can turn the plow over to his relief and get a hot cup of joe. He sweeps past, the plow spurning cloudy snow into the gully. The Camaro, already drifted to the windows, is now buried to the roof-line. Later, in the deepest part of a stormy twilight when even the things directly in front of you look unreal, the second-shift man drives by, headed in the opposite direction, and entombs it. Paul opened his eyes and looked at the plaster ceiling. There was a fine series of hairline cracks up there that seemed to make a trio of interlocked W's. He had become very familiar with them over the endless run of days he had lain here since coming out of the cloud, and now he traced them again, idly thinking of w words such as wicked and wretched and witchlike and wriggling. Yes. Could have been that way. Could have been. Had she thought of what might happen when his car was found? She might have. She was nuts, but being nuts didn't make her stupid. Yet it had never crossed her mind that he might have a duplicate of Fast Cars. Yeah. And she was right. The bitch was right. I didn't. Images of the blackened pages floating up, the flames, the sounds, the smell of the uncreation - he gritted his teeth against the images and tried to shut his mind away from them; vivid was not always good. No, you didn't, but nine out of ten writers would have - at least they would if they were getting paid as much as you have been for even the non-Misery books. She never even thought of it. She's not a writer. Neither is she stupid, as I think we have both agreed. I think that she is filled with herself - she does not just have a large ego but one which is positively grandiose. Burning it seemed to her the proper thing to do, and the idea that her concept of the proper thing to do might be short-circuited by something so piddling as a bank Xerox machine and a couple of rolls of quarters . . . that blip just never crossed her screen, my friend. His other deductions might be like houses built on quicksand, but this view of Annie Wilkes seemed to him as solid as the Rock of Gibraltar. Because of his researches for Misery, he had rather more than a layman's understanding of neurosis and psychosis, and he knew that although a borderline psychotic might have alternating periods of deep depression and almost aggressive cheerfulness and hilarity, the puffed and infected ego underlay all, positive that all eyes were upon him or her, positive that he or she was staffing in a great drama; the outcome was a thing for which untold millions waited with held breath. Such an ego simply forbade certain lines of thought. These lines were predictable because they all stretched in the same direction: from the unstable person to objects, situations, or other persons outside of the subject's field of control (or fantasy: to the neurotic there might be some difference but to the psychotic they were one and the same). Annie Wilkes had wanted Fast Cars destroyed, and so, to her, there had been only the one copy. Maybe I could have saved the damn thing by telling her there were more. She would have seen destroying the manuscript was futile. She - His breathing, which had been slowing toward sleep, suddenly caught in his throat and his eyes widened. Yes, she would have seen it was futile. She would have been forced to acknowledge one of those lines leading to a place beyond her control. The ego would be hurt, squealing - I have such a temper! If she had been clearly faced with the fact that she couldn't destroy his "dirty book", might she not have decided to destroy the creator of the dirty book instead? After all, there was no copy of Paul Sheldon. His heart was beating fast. In the other room the clock began to bong, and overhead he heard her thumping footfalls cross his ceiling. The faint sound of her urinating. The toilet flushing. The heavy pad of her feet as she went back to bed. The creak of the springs. You won't make me mad again, will you? His mind suddenly tried to break into a gallop, an overbred trotter trying to break stride. What, if anything, did all this dime-store psychoanalysis mean in terms of his car? About when it was found? What did it mean to him? "Wait a minute," he whispered in the dark. "Wait a minute, wait a minute, just hold the phone. Slow down." He put his arm across his eyes again and again conjured up the state trooper with the dark sunglasses and the overlong sideburns. We've found an overturned car halfway down Humbuggy Mountain, the state trooper was saying, and blah-de-blah-de-blah. Only this time Annie doesn't invite him to stay for coffee. This time she isn't going to feel safe until he's out of her house and far down the road. Even in the kitchen, even with two closed doors between them and the guest-room, even with the guest doped to the ears, the trooper might hear a groan. If his car was found, Annie Wilkes would know she was in trouble, wouldn't she? "Yes," Paul whispered. His legs were beginning to hurt again, but in the dawning horror of this recognition he barely noticed. She would be in trouble not because she had taken him to her house, especially if it was closer than Sidewinder (and so Paul believed it to be); for that they would probably give her a medal and a lifetime membership in the Misery Chastain Fan Club (to Paul's endless chagrin there actually was such a thing). The problem was, she had taken him to her house and installed him in the guest-room and told no one. No phone-call to the local ambulance service: "This is Annie up on the Humbuggy Mountain Road and I've got a fellow here, looks a bit like King Kong used him for a trampoline." The problem was, she had filled him full of dope to which she was certainly not supposed to have access - not if he was even half as hooked as he thought he was. The problem was, she had followed the dope with a weird sort of treatment, sticking needles in his arms, splinting his legs with sawed-off pieces of aluminum crutches. The problem was, Annie Wilkes had been on the stand up there in Denver . . . and not as a supporting witness, either, Paul thought. I'd bet the house and lot on that. So she watches the cop go down the road in his spandy-clean cruiser (spandy-clean except for the caked chunks of snow and salt nestled in the wheel-wells and under the bumpers, that is), and she feels safe again . . . but not too safe, because now she is like an animal with its wind up. Way, way up. The cops will look and look and look, because he is not just good old Joe Blow from Kokomo; he is Paul Sheldon, the literary Zeus from whose brow sprang Misery Chastain, darling of the dump-bins and sweetheart of the supermarkets. Maybe when they don't find him they'll stop looking, or at least look someplace else, but maybe one of the Roydmans saw her going by that night and saw something funny in the back of Old Bessie, something wrapped in a quilt, something vaguely manlike. Even if they hadn't seen a thing, she wouldn't put it past the Roydmans to make up a story to get her in trouble; they didn't like her. The cops might come back, and next time her house-guest might not be so quiet. He remembered her eyes darting around aimlessly when the fire in the barbecue pot was on the verge of getting out of control. He could see her tongue sticking her lips. He could see her walking back and forth, hands clenching and unclenching, peeking every now and then into the guest-room where he lay lost in his cloud. Every now and then she would utter "Goodness!" to the empty rooms. She had stolen a rare bird with beautiful feathers - a rare bird which came from Africa. And what would they do if they found out? Why, put her up on the stand again, of course. Put her up on the stand again in Denver. And this time she might not walk free. He took his arm away from his eyes. He looked at the interlocking W's swaying drunkenly across the ceiling.O WHY HAI THAR YOUNG PADAWAN. He didn't need his elbow over his eyes to see the rest. She might hang on to him for a day or a week. It might take a follow-up phone-call or visit to make her decide to get rid of her rara avis. But in the end she would do it, just as wild dogs begin to bury their illicit kills after they have been hunted awhile. She would give him five pills instead of two, or perhaps smother him with a pillow; perhaps she would simply shoot him. Surely there was a rifle around somewhere - almost everyone living in the high country had one - and that would take care of the problem. No - not the gun. Too messy. Might leave evidence. None of that had happened yet because no one had found the car. They might be looking for him in New York or in L.A., but no one was looking for him in Sidewinder, Colorado. But in the spring. The W's straggled across the ceiling. Washed. Wiped. Wasted. The throbbing in his legs was more insistent; the next time the clock bonged she would come, but he was almost afraid she would read his thoughts on his face, like the bare premise of a story too gruesome to write. His eyes drifted left. There was a calendar on the wall. It showed a boy riding a sled down a hill. It was February according to the calendar, but if his calculations were right it was already early March. Annie Wilkes had just forgotten to turn the page. How long before the melting snows revealed his Camaro with its New York plates and its registration in the glove compartment proclaiming the owner to be Paul Sheldon? How long before that trooper called on her, or until she read it in the paper? How long until the spring melt? Six weeks? Five? That could be the length of my life, Paul thought, and began shuddering. By then his legs were fully awake, and it was not until she had come in and given him another dose of medicine that he was able to fall asleep "I'd like some different paper, if you could get it," he said when she came back to put the typewriter and paper on the board. "Different from this?" she asked, tapping the cellophane-wrapped package of Corrasable Bond. "But this is the most expensive of all! I asked when I went into the Paper Patch!" "Didn't your mother ever tell you that the most expensive is not always the best?" Annie's brow darkened. Her initial defensiveness had been replaced by indignation. Paul guessed her fury would follow. "No, she did not. What she told me, Mister Smart Guy, is that when you buy cheap, you get cheap." The climate inside her, he had come to discover, was like springtime in the Midwest. She was a woman full of tornadoes waiting to happen, and if he had been a farmer observing a sky which looked the way Annie's face looked right now, he would have at once gone to collect his family and herd them into the storm cellar. Her brow was too white. Her nostrils flared regularly, like the nostrils of an animal scenting fire. Her hands had begun to spring limberly open and then snatch closed again, catching air and squashing it. His need for her and his vulnerability to her screamed at him to back off, to placate her while there was still time if indeed there still was - as a tribe in one of -those Rider Haggard stories would have placated their goddess when she was angry, by making sacrifice to her effigy. But there was another part of him, more calculating and less cowed, which reminded him that he could not play the part of Scheherazade if he grew frightened and placatory whenever she stormed. If he did, she would storm all the more. If you didn't have something she badly wants, this part of him reasoned, she would have taken you to the hospital right away or killed you later on to protect herself from the Roydmans - because for Annie the world is full of Roydmans, for Annie they're lurking behind every bush. And if you don't bell this bitch right now, Paulie my boy, you may never be able to. She was beginning to breathe more rapidly, almost to hyperventilate; the rhythm of her clenching hands was likewise speeding up, and he knew that in a moment she would be beyond him. Gathering up the little courage he had left, trying desperately to summon exactly the right note of sharp and yet almost casual irritability, he said: "And you might as well stop that. Getting mad won't change a thing." She froze as if he had slapped her and looked at him, wounded. "Annie," he said patiently, "this is no big deal." "It's a trick," she said. "You don't want to write my book and so you're making up tricks not to start. I knew you would. Oh boy. But it's not going to work. It - " "That's silly," he said. "Did I say I wasn't going to start?" "No . . . no, but - " "That's right. Because I am. And if you come here and take a look at something, I'll show you what the problem is. Bring that Webster Pot with you, please." "The what?" "Little jar of pens and pencils, " he said. "On newspapers, they sometimes call them Webster Pots. After Daniel Webster." This was a lie he had made up on the spur of the moment, but it had the desired effect - she looked more confused than ever, lost in a specialists" world of which she had not the slightest knowledge. The confusion had diffused (and thus defused) her rage even more; he saw she now didn't even know if she had any right to be angry. She brought over the jar of pens and pencils and slammed them down on the board and he thought: Goddam! I won No - that wasn't right. Misery had won. But that isn't right, either. It was Scheherazade. Scheherazade won. "What?" she said grumpily. "Watch." He opened the package of Corrasable and took out a sheet He took a freshly sharpened pencil and drew a fine on the paper. Then he took a ballpoint pen and drew another line parallel to the first. Then he slid his thumb across the slightly waffled surface of the paper. Both lines blurred smudgily in the direction his thumb was travelling, the pencil-line slightly more than the one he had drawn with the pen. "See?" "So what?" "Ribbon-ink will blur, too," he said. "It doesn't blur a much as that pencil-line, but it's worse than the ballpoint-ink line." "Were you going to sit and rub every page with your thumb?" "Just the shift of the pages against each other will accomplish plenty of blurring over a period of weeks or ever days," he said, "and when a manuscript is in work, it get shifted around a lot. You're always hunting back through to find a name or a date. My God, Annie, one of the first thing you find out in this business is that editors hate reading manuscripts typed on Corrasable Bond almost as much a they hate hand-written manuscripts." "Don't call it that. I hate it when you call it that." He looked at her, honestly puzzled. "Call what what?" "When you pervert the talent God gave you by calling it a business. I hate that." "I'm sorry." "You ought to be," she said stonily. "You might as well call yourself a whore." No, Annie, he thought, suddenly filled with fury. I'm no whore. Fast Cars was about not being a whore. That's what killing that goddamned bitch Misery was about, now that I think about it. I was driving to the West Coast to celebrate my liberation from a state of whoredom. What you did was to pull me out of the wreck when I crashed my car and stick me back in the crib again. Two dollar straight up, four dollar I take you around the world. And every now and then I see a flicker in your eyes that tells me a part of you way back inside knows it too. A jury might let you off by reason of insanity, but not me, Annie. Not this kid. "A good point," he said. "Now, going back to the subject of the paper - " "I'll get you your cockadoodie paper," she said sullenly. "Just tell me what to get and I'll get it." "As long as you understand I'm on your side - " "Don't make me laugh. No one has been on my side since my mother died twenty years ago." "Believe what you want, then," he said. "If you're so insecure you can't believe I'm grateful to you for saving my life, that's your problem." He was watching her shrewdly, and again saw a flicker of uncertainty, of wanting to believe, in her eyes. Good. Very good. He looked at her with all the sincerity he could muster, and again in his mind he imagined shoving a chunk of glass into her throat, once and forever letting out the blood that serviced her crazy brain. "At least you should be able to believe that I am on the book's side. You spoke of binding it. I assume that you meant binding the manuscript? The typed pages?" "Of course that's what I meant." Yes, you bet. Because if you took the manuscript to a printer, it might raise questions. You may be naive about the world of books and publishing, but not that naive.EPIC STORY IS EPIC LULS. Paul Sheldon is missing, and your printer might remember receiving a book-length manuscript concerning itself with Paul Sheldon's most famous character right around the time the man himself disappeared, mightn't he? And he'd certainly remember the instructions - instructions so queer any printer would remember them. One printed copy of a novel-length manuscript. Just one. "What did she look like, officer? Well, she was a big woman. Looked sort of like a stone idol in a H. Rider Haggard story. Just a minute, I've got her name and address here in the files . . . Just let me look up the carbons of the invoices . . . " "Nothing wrong with the idea, either," he said. "A bound manuscript can be damned handsome. Looks like a good folio edition. But a book should last a long time, Annie, and if I write this one on Corrasable, you're going to have nothing but a bunch of blank papers in ten years or so. Unless, of course, you just put it on the shelf." But she wouldn't want that, would she? Christ, no. She'd want to take it down every day, maybe every few hours. Take it down and gloat over it. An odd stony look had come onto her face. He did not like this mulishness, this almost ostentatious look of obduracy. It made him nervous. He could calculate her rage, but there was something in this new expression which was as opaque as it was childish. "You don't have to talk anymore," she said. "I already told you I'll get you your paper. What kind?" "In this business-supply store you go to - " "The Paper Patch." "Yes, the Paper Patch. You tell them you'd like two reams - a ream is a package of five hundred sheets - " "I know that. I'm not stupid, Paul." "I know you're not," he said, becoming more nervous still. The pain had begun to mutter up and down his legs again, and it was speaking even more -loudly from the area of his pelvis - he had been sitting up for nearly an hour, and the dislocation down there was complaining about it. Keep cool, for God's sake - don't lose everything you've gained! But have I gained anything? Or is it only wishful thinking? "Ask for two reams of white long-grain mimeo. Hammermill Bond is a good brand; so is Triad Modem. Two reams of mimeo will cost less than this one package of Corrasable, and it should be enough to do the whole job, write and rewrite." "I'll go right now," she said, getting up suddenly. He looked at her, alarmed, understanding that she meant to leave him without his medication again, and sitting up this time, as well. Sitting already hurt; the pain would be monstrous by the time she got back, even if she hurried. "You don't have to do that," he said, speaking fast. "The Corrasable is good enough to start with - after all, I'll have to rewrite anyway - " "Only a silly person would try to start a good work with a bad tool." She took the package of Corrasable Bond, then snatched the sheet with the two smudged lines and crumpled it into a ball. She tossed both into the wastebasket and turned back to him. That stony, obdurate look covered her face like a mask. Her eyes glittered like tarnished dimes. "I'm going to town now," she said. "I know you want to get started as soon as you can, since you're on my side - " she spoke these last words with intense, smoking sarcasm (and, Paul believed, more self-hate than she would ever know) "and so I'm not even going to take time to put you back in your bed." She smiled, a pulling of the lips that was grotesquely puppet-like, and slipped to his side in her silent white nurse" shoes. Her fingers touched his hair. He flinched. He tried not to but couldn't help it. Her dead-alive smile widened. "Although I suspect we may have to put off the actual start of Misery's Retum for a day . . . or two . . . perhaps even three. Yes, it may be as long as three days before you are able to sit up again. Because of the pain. Too bad. I had champagne chilling in the fridge. I'll have to put it back in the shed." "Annie, really, I can start if you'll just - " "No, Paul." She moved to the door and then turned, looking at him with that stony face. Only her eyes, those tarnished dimes, were fully alive under the shelf of her brow. "There is one thought I would like to leave you with. You may think you can fool me, or trick me; I know I look slow and stupid. But I am not stupid, Paul, and I am not slow." Suddenly her face broke apart. The stony obduracy shattered and what shone through was the countenance of an insanely angry child. For a moment Paul thought the extremity of his terror might kill him. Had he thought he had gained the upper hand? Had he? Could one possibly play Scheherazade when one's captor was insane? She rushed across the room at him, thick legs pumping, knees flexing, elbows chopping back and forth in the stale sickroom air like pistons. Her hair bounced and joggled around her face as it came loose from the bobby-pins that held it up. Now her passage was not silent; it was like the tread of Goliath striding into the Valley of Bones. The picture of the Arc de Triomphe cracked affrightedly on the wall. "Geeeee-yahhh!" she screamed, and brought her fist down on the bunched salt-dome that had been Paul Sheldon's left knee. He threw his head back and howled, veins standing out in his neck and on his forehead. Pain burst out from his knee and shrouded him, whitely radiant, in the center of a nova. She tore the typewriter off the board and slammed it down on the mantel, lifting its weight of dead metal as he might have lifted an empty cardboard box. "So you just sit there," she said, lips pulled back in that grinning rictus, "and you think about who is in charge here, and all the things I can do to hurt you if you behave badly or try to trick me. You sit there and you scream if you want to, because no one can hear you. No one stops here because they all know Annie Wilkes is crazy, they all know what she did, even if they did find me innocent." She walked back to the door and turned again, and he screamed again when she did, in anticipation of another bull-like charge, and that made her grin more widely. "I'll tell you something else," she said softly. "They think I got away with it, and they are right. Think about that, Paul, while I'm in town getting your cockadoodie paper." She left, slamming the bedroom door hard enough to shake the house. Then there was the click of the lock. He leaned back in the chair, shaking all over, trying not to shake because it hurt, not able to help it. Tears streamed down his cheeks. Again and again he saw her flying across the room, again and again he saw her bringing her fist down on the remains of his knee with all the force of an angry drunk hammering on an oak bar, again and again he was swallowed in that terrible blue-white nova of pain. "Please, God, please," he moaned as the Cherokee started outside with a bang and a roar. "Please, God, please - let me out of this or kill me . . . let me out of this or kill me." The roar of the engine faded off down the road and God did neither and he was left with his tears and the pain, which was now fully awake and raving through his body. *enter tl;dr (too long;didn't read) tag here*

To cut things short..'in before X' simply means that you post X 1st knowing someone's gonna post it eventually. Eg :

Dude 1 : Why do i always recieve negative comments?
Dude 2 : In before 'you have severe face problem'
Dude 3 : Dude i was gonna say that!
Dude 2 : SLOWPOKE~!!

In other words...the total pwnage of slowpokes..so there you go...you've just learned a new word today =D.

Now...what was i gonna post about again...?? Uhhh...........i forgot LOL....no srzly i forgot...= ="..potong stim loh...blah..anyways..here's a video for you guise to keep you guise occup-

Nvm i just remembered..LOL.

Here we go..two weeks ago i went to redang for 5 days 4 nights (18/3/09 - 22/3/09) for a break..which means to say i ponteng 2 days of school..since my school declared monday as a holiday due to sports day the day before..i don't mind elaborating more about my trip but i guess you guise don't give two sh*ts about it..so anyway...during my stay there i was literally harassed by bed bugs....i don't know why but it seems they like to rape harass my hands only...so both my hands looked like it was infected with chicken pox...so when i went back to school on thursday..one of my fren came and ask me.

Friend : Dude, what's wrong with your hands?
Me : Err..
Friend : Omg...is it chicken pox?!?!
Me : Er....(i lol'd at his reaction..so i just played along)..yeah =/
Friend : OMG...you mean you haven't get yet?!?!!
Me : Looks like it.
Friend : You mean you know when you're getting chicken pox wan ah??(cuz the week before i left i told him i won't be coming to school for the next week)
Me : By right i'm supposed to stay at home for the next 3 weeks (bullshit) but i miss you too much adi.
Friend : OMG STAY AWAY FROM ME AAHHH
Me : LOLS! *in my mind of course*
Me : You kena before adi right??
Friend : Y....ya-huh.....
Me : Then you're absolutely fine...once you kena adi you won't kena again one lah..rilek lah..(puts my arm around his shoulder)
Friend : Ar....ar...e...y...y...you....s-....sure.e...? (paranoid)
Me : Yes lah...besides..chicken pox can't spread THAT easily one lah..
Friend : Don't lie to me.
Me : Does it look like i'm lying to you?
Friend : Duh.
Me : = ="...whatever it is you'll be fine trust me.
Friend : *calls another friend of mine* dude dude...come here and look and his hand wei..
Me : *rawr*
Friend 2 : OMFG GET AWAY FROM ME OMG AHHHHHHHHHHH
Me : You get adi anot?
Friend 2 : NOO...SO STAY AWAY FROM ME!! *runs back to his table*
Me : Lol..."maybe i should play wif him for awhile"
Me : *walks to his table* Hello friend....long time no see eh..how's life?
Friend 2 : OMG WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?!
Me : just saying hi..th-...oh hey..nice pen..*picks up the pen*
Friend 2 : OMG DON'T TOUCH IT~!!! OMG NOW MY PEN'S CONTAMINATED AND NOW I'M GONNA GET CHICKEN POX AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Me : Lol...so paranoid for what..chicken pox doesn't spread as easy as you think lah..besides, better to get now than later right?? i'm trying to help you you know..you should be thanking me..
Friend 2 : JUST STAY AWAY FROM ME OMGOMGOMG.
Me : alright alright....suit yourself...*walks away*
Me : *laughs my ass out at one corner.*

I seriously can't believe everyone 3/4 of the class fell for it..for those who knew i asked them not to say anything or else they would have to face my chicken pox wrath.

Now this is where the epicness kicks in.

A day later when i was taking attendance i realized one girl was absent...i was surprised cuz i've never seen her absent before..so i just wrote down her name and informed the teacher...I expected her to come back to school the following day..

And she did.

But...

There were red spots all over her face and some on her hands....everyone gave her one look...so i went and ask her :

Me : You alright?
Friend : Yeah..
Me : What happened to you??
Friend : You think??
Me : Chicken pox......?
Friend : Mmm-hmm
Me : *AWKWARD SILENCE*
Friend : I had it on friday....went to teh hospital to do a check-up..doctor said it's a minor one..he said i'm gonna be alright..
Paranoid Friend (the one i mentioned earlier) : YOU SEE!!!! YOU SEEEEE!!!!!!!!! LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE...SUMMORE SAY DOSEN'T SPREAD SO EASILY HUH...LOOK WHO'S TALKING NOW GENIUS...LUCKILY I HAVE THE BRAINS UNLIKE YOU...YOURS IS THE SIZE OF A PEANUT..
Me : ...... *tries to play along* oh hey partner..! life's good huh? like they say..two is always better than one right??
Paranoid Friend & Chicken Pox Friend : GTFO!!
Me : *Epic PwnzZ0red*

Till this date everyone still thinks i still have chicken pox..which in fact i don't..and my paranoid friend is as paranoid as ever...

Me : Hey can i-...
Paranoid Friend : STAY AWAY FROM ME..GIT OUT MY FACE..DON'T BREATHE IN MY AIR...

So yeah, I think that's about it i can blog about..

PS : Drop a comment at teh shoutbox kthxbai.

PPS : Here's the vid i wanted to upload earlier...i think it's too cute good to be left unseen.

I know it just sounds wrong for me to say this but this is seriously the cutest shit i've ever seen in my 14 years of life.

EFG.

#11 - Me...?? Being Kidnapped....???

And once again i apologize for posting my own stuff that does not involve teh class..but i guess this is just too good to be left untold.

So here we go....it was just a normal school morning....i got up from my bed and bathe and had my breakfast milo...(just so you know i don't take breakfast...sue me)...after that i put on my socks & shoes and rode my trusty ol' bike to school...when i was cyling my way to school i witnessed a kidnapping case with my own eyes..this mafia-ish dude literally threw a lil' kid into a car and just drove off...i tried to chase after this dude wif my ol' bike...but unfortunately my bike failed me and jammed itself..i lost control of teh bike and literally flew into a car though the windscreen...i broke both my legs and jaw and i'm now partially blind..i'm now lying on teh hospital bed writing this post in SJMC now and if any of you would be so kind to visit me..i'll be in room 203 

Everything told on this post is 100%  true false..this post is not a lie...it is absolutely true fake..the reason why i posted this post is because this might be the last post i can ever type..because the impact from the accident was so great it is causing my brain to malfunction slowly...so eventually i'll lose the ability to move my hands.. i have too much time on my hands......and also no life. so i decided to waste it on this post. :D

Ignore the last sentence..something really happened in school yesterday......srzly......here we go...again....for real.

[copypasta] It was just a normal school morning....i got up from my bed and bathe and had my breakfast milo...(just so you know i don't take breakfast...sue me)...after that i put on my socks & shoes  [copypasta]  ,put my seeds/plants into a plastic bag..(yes. it's for PEKA) and rode my bike to school...so basically my right hand is holding my bike while my left hand is holding teh bag..which means i'm cyling with one hand....and when i was cyling downhill (the road next to the main road.) in front of my school.(for those of you who don't know i'm in SMKSU)...i came across a bump/hump...so before i went over it i slowly pressed the brakes..(with one hand) and when i went over it..i started losing control of my bike...and before i knew it. i fell down along with my bike..(take note i was going downhill...) so i bruised my shoulder my elbow and a few more places...tore my unifom and my pants..broke my belt...and dented my precious bike..i fell on the middle of teh road..and while i was on teh ground..i saw a car in front of me..i thoght the driver was gonna come down and help me up..but in the end he didn't come down and i helped myself up..and the best part is....i looked at teh driver who i thought looked somewhat like a malay babi uncle..and he looked back at me...he gave me a glare as if he wanted to beat teh sh*t out of me..like i'm some suicide bomber or so....then i thought to myself  "wtf is your problem?? what did i do to you?"..in the end i just raised my uninjured hand(left) and said sorry to him.

That isn't all...during reccess i was just chilling..when some dude from another class came and find meh..he told me : "The Pejabat wants to see you"...then i thought to myself.."wtf would the pejabat wants to see me for? don't tell me i have to do some dog's job for them again.." so i went to teh pejabat and asked if anyone was looking for me..then this malay girl came to me and we had a conversation that looked something like this :

Woman : u james ke?

Me : ya...?

Woman : tadi u ade telefon mak u tak?
Me : tak de ah..

Woman : sebab mak u telefon tadi..
Me : telephon saye buat ape??

Woman : tak tau..*shows me a piece of paper* ni mak u kan?? (my name was written as James Chow wtf..= =)

Me : ya betul.

 *yada yada yada bla bla bla....*

Woman : kenape baju u macam ni??

Me : oh tadi saye jatuh.

Woman : ohh...mungkin tu sebab die panggil u lah.

Me : tapi macan mane die tau?? i tak panggil die pun.
Woman : entahlah...lebih baik u call die balik...die nampak risau lah..

Me : oh ok...saye akan call die nanti...thank you ah..

When i left teh pejabat..i thought to myself  "how teh heck did she know i fell down?? is she stalking me or something?? = =" "...so i changed my dollar notes to coins and called up my mum...the conversation wif my mum were as follows :

Me : Hello?

Mum : James???? Is that you?????
Me : Yes...??

Mum : Oh thank god you're alright!

Me : Uh......

Mum : Do you know how worried sick i was?!?! i prayed as hard as possible you know!! omg!! *exhales deeply*

Me : It's just a fall mum....*facepalm*
Mum : What fall??

Me : Er.....what?

Mum : ...

Me : If not why did you call the school's pejabat for??
Mum : Nononono....you got it all wrong...

Me : ???

Mum : You see...when i was in my office this morning..i recieved a call from some international number...

Me : Uh....huh....

Mum : So i picked up the phone and said "hello?" and this kid who sounded EXACTLY like you said "mummy???"
Me : Uhhh.....
Mum : Then i said "yes?" and he started speaking in mandarin to me and he was crying and crying and crying!! then i said "what?!?" and the phone line just cut off.
Me : Whaaaat??????

Me : Why in the world would i speak to you in mandarin??? *double facepalm*
Mum : How would i know??! when he said mummy he sounded sooo much like you..

Mum : So i tried calling the same number back a few times and none of them got through..so i started to panic and thought you were kidnapped and was forced to speak chinese because the other party wants to know what you're saying.
Me : Uhh......*speechless*

Mum : Then i went and check with my colleagues to see where is this number from...and i realised it's from Taiwan..
Me : Whaaaat????
Me : Even if by chance i get kidnapped how in the world would i be in Taiwan in such a short period of time?!?!? *triple facepalm*
Mum : How i know?? Maybe he's in Malaysia but using a handphone from Taiwan??
Me : *speechless*.....so what did the kid say?
Mum : I have no idea....he was crying and crying and crying and his accent was so heavy i couldn't understand a word from him..

Me : WHAAATTT??!?!??!!?
Me : DOES IT LOOK LIKE I HAVE A HEAVY CHINESE ACCENT TO YOU??!?! *quadruple facepalm*
Mum : But he sounded soo much like you!!
Me : I......*sighs deeply*....you're too paranoid...who would wanna catch a fella like me??

Mum : I don't know..but IF you get kidnapped you make sure you hit their d**k as hard as possible okay???
Me : ...... am i that helpless from your point of view??

Mum : *ignores* Oh i'm so glad you're alright....phew...i can now go back to work peacefully already...Bye.
Me : ......  Bye.

I can lay my life on it that in my 14 years of life...i've never had a conversation like this with my mum before...so....so......ugh...you get the picture right?? and the coincidence was just too right to be true...right now the incident is spreading throughout the school like a disease...some of my friends will even go like..

Me : *talks loudly*
Friend : don't talk so loud...later you get sent to Taiwan then you know.

Me : *speechless* 

Tell me wtf does talking got to do with the incident..= ="

And some people are still dying to know what's going on...instead of saying the whole story over and OVERagain...i'll just blog about it and lay the incident to rest once and for all.

So yeah..i think that's about it i can blog about.

PS : I also would riek to take this opportunity to wish Galvin Makson a Happy 15th Birthday.

EFG.

#10 - Rest In Peace.

I know i'm not supposed to post my personal stuff here but..since i don't have my own blog..and since this blog is kinda dead..i'd thought i'd update it a little bit to keep it alive....=X

So anyway...

I would riek to dedicate this post to my beloved faithful loyal dog :

Goofy

14 Feb 1998 - 12 April 2009

who passed away earlier this morning at around 8.30am...She joined the family back in 1998 during Valentine's Day and grew up together with us...Goofy i know you're a dog and don't understand english but i hope my message & feelings will reach you though God..I thank you for all these years for being with us, keeping us company, growing up with us and so on. Your death has caused everyone in the family to be deeply devastated by their own grief....and though my outer-self dosen't show much love towards you (for that i am deeply regretful)...deep down i love you so much that words can not express my love towards you..I will always love you..always and forever.

May You Rest In Peace.


PS : For those of you who are thinking "it's just a dog..suck it up pansy"....please reconsider your thoughts..the reason you're thinking this way is simply because you have no idea how devastating the loss of a faithful loyal dog who has been growing up with you for nearly 12 years can be..and another reason is possibly you have never reared a pet before in your life...so kindly please STFU and pay some respect.

PPS : I also would riek to take this opportunity to wish Eugene Tan a Happy Belated 15th Birthday.

EFG.

#7 - HAPPY15THBIRTHDAYSHAOJUN

this pic is for teh lulz :D HAHA
hope you dont mind ze pitcureS :D

oolala~

xoxo muackzzxxxxz hugs kisses
HERSHEYS!

#6 - HAPPY15THBIRTHDAYYINLING :D

This pic is for the lulz :D