Live Beverly Hills 90210 Where, everyone is fucking around with each other to fuck everyone up because everyone's fucked and they won't heed proper warnings. Instead, fucking each other up even more than they need to because all of them are bloody fucked up people, who aren't satisfied with being fuck ups.That, and I envision a hangover and am disenchanted by the miserable set that Boys Noize played.Oh, and I hate NS. Can't wait to finish. Bloody waste of time. Life As A Conscript. I hate everyone in camp and I can't wait to get my basic military training phase over and done with. Strangely enough, how I feel about BMT sounds exactly like how I've felt in almost every station in life I've been in.Generally angsty.What's good though, is that I have taken to writing in a journal again.Maybe I'll post up something angsty from the journal some other time, when I'm not so tired and rushing to catch up on everything that I've missed while trying to make a book in timing of 1815hrs. Week 3. My mother thinks that this is cute, because it is reminisce of a time when I didn't swear and was adorably innocent. She is not exactly the demographic that I was hoping to target. God, I miss my hair.P.S. I have a seriously flat tummy now! JBJ is Dead. I am well and truly upset. OH! Have I ever missed music, while confined for the past 16 days. Justice's Genesis was playing over and over my head for the first few days. And did I ever missed music that makes ear drums bleed. And OH! OH! OH! Boys Noize will be playing here on October 11th at Zouk. By some happy providence, I have an appointment to club at Zouk that night. I have been informed however that the night may be spent with 'Urban' music, which upsets me terribly.How could you not feel like cumming in your pants listening to Alexander Ridha do his thang? This issue completely perplexes me. I am however, opening an invitation to any and everyone, if you find the clip entertaining and you abso-fucking-lutely agree that Boys Noize is awesome to join me on October the 11th. So I won't be the only pussy who wants to be in the main arena more.Make the case for good music people. Join in the aural orgasm. Safe sex, helps with the problem of an aging population. I am tempted to start sobbing, at the outpouring of well wishes from people. I've always been anti social, never saw the point in mixing around unless it could in some way directly benefit me. Thus, I never really got close to people.Understandably, I'm feeling extremely touched and kinda emotional when people whom I have not contacted for as long as 6 months, some whom I've even lost contact information with call and wish me the best, somehow discovering that I enlist tomorrow.And this is me, extremely fat and with hair. The result of filling myself up with steak and other food that I will not be able to afford while serving the nation.Goodbye nice people, I wish that more of you were single females. - It brings a tear to my eye, how sometimes people misconstrue what kind of person I am. And also, how little I think people care when them most surprising of things happen when I least expect it.And there are so many people I would love to hug, but do not have the gonads to. I'll see you guys around when I book out in hopefully 2 weeks. =( I wish I were asexual.Really. Justice! I don't really give a damn about jeans, especially overrated Levi's and their crappy ads. But, using Justice's Genesis for their campaign just tempts the geeky fanboy in me to no end. The first time I heard the ad the first reaction I had was to get those funky electronic music jeans and my next was to attempt to rather flaccidly beatbox to the music.Good move, Levis. I might actually consider getting the new unbuttoned line.EDIT: One of the Creative Director for this video was Sir John Hegarty. I don't know, I'm kinda underwhelmed. As a consumer, apart from the music, the video ad doesn't really do anything for me either. Great Coconuts of Fire. I think, the greatest thing I fear losing as a result of my conscription will be not being able to work in the food service industry anymore. It sounds strange, especially for the rarefied who I have managed to develop functional non-professional relationships with at work have heard me complain about burning out and detesting not being challenged by the monotony that is work.However my short lived (3 years!) stint in the food service industry has been both enlightening and a crazy, wild ride. I'm going to miss the craziness of working at Max Brenner's with a staff united in loathing the boss, the girls at Lawry's-oh you crazy sexy things whom I lacked the balls to fully exploit beyond physical flirtation- and finally I'm going to miss the sort-of maverick rock star I've become at the Starbucks. I'm going to miss being able to walk into a store and have impressionable new hires swoon."I am very please and honoured that you would actually be my next coffee mentor to guide me.I really admire your coffee knowledge and passion to teach,therefore i would not want to miss this opportunity to be coach by you."Yea. People actually talk to me like that. Suck on that motherfuckers. I'm going to miss the status and hype.I'm going to become a maggot in about a week's time. =( Hey Lloyd! You know, in less than a week I'll be conscripted into our nation's glorious armed forces and the sinking feeling has already begun. Ugh, two years of forced labour drawing on a pitiful allowance and being at the beck and call of our glorious country sucks.Especially since Camera Obscura will be performing for one night only come October 29th and I will probably be digging trenches somewhere in Tekong island.Ugh. The discounted $38 NSF rate mocks me. ! You know, I actually kind of understand why some people purposely put themselves in a continued state of inebriation. I really do, sometimes I wish I had the gonads to do something like that. I need love! Key Learnings for the day:I need to cross breed and have incredibly hot children. Chinese and Brazillian would be ideal.I behave flirtatiously when engaging people while representing myself in a professional context.I need to learn and develop the ability to do number 2, while in a social environment.If I am so fucking flirtatious, why am I still single and a miserable failure at attempting to get laid before my 18th birthday? I hope it's not because I suck at behaving flirtatiously, because apparently I engage in such behave frequently whilst representing myself professionally. I think, the blame lies with the set of principles and a moral compass that works horribly well that has been with me since I was a wee child.Also, I think I don't really need to engage in sexual activity, but rather miss intimacy.Oh, fuck. Recognition Rocks. And today, I sat through an entire operations meeting, the only part timer amidst a sea of career F&B professionals, from Director to Store Manager, shy and a nervous wreck because strangely enough I couldn't recognize or even recall a lot of the people who recognized me.Pleasantly surprised that I wasn't there to conduct a coffee tasting, as I was told, but to receive an award, life was good. For a while, at least. Recognition, rocks. Well, I liked it better. Rupturing the skin under my thumbnail, while attempting to fit the little piece back into the whip cream dispenser and having blood spray all over freshly sanitized silverware and china I think, was god-or whatever name your higher power goes by- telling me to stop. I really am disgruntled and upset with how stagnant I have become. So, after helping out with the operations meeting, followed by an unspecified role in the regional marketing conference for Christmas, I am most definitely not going back to work anymore.I know I've been telling loads of people that I was going to stop work ages ago, but have always manage to accede the extremely polite pleas for help. But, me first, now.I don't like it so much anymore now, anyway. Aiyer. Today has been a day of spectacular cock ups and revelations. Additionally, crying is no good and today it's already happened twice. It's something that I can understand but not necessarily relate to. A display of emotion that I would be able to relate to would be that of putting my fist through a person's ugly mug. It's very unhealthy and this month I've had that feeling at least once a week. Thank god next week will most certainly be my last week, (I know, I've been saying that for weeks already) because I'm afraid I actually work up enough anger to put my fist through somebody's face.Oh well, a new day beckons. Oh no! Just as I thought that I was going to lead a boring 3 weeks, sleeping and building muscle mass the horrible calls of the siren in the form of the district manager asking for a favour conspire to destroy happy, boring-away from work bliss! Captain Enormous Nether Reigon. And, nothing is sacrosanct anymore. Nothing, I tell you. If only I could throw lighting, the people I'd smite. Fuck y'all this is some serious shit that you don't mess around with, yo.The world needs more order. 9 August. The day before, Russia invaded Georgia.On the day Singaporeans were celebrating lights and noise in the sky, Bernie Mac died.The world is a much less happy place. Rest in peace Bernie Mac, you brought much joy into my teenage life and will be sorely missed. Oh Gods, Why Have You Forsaken Me So? The coming week will be my last week of working insane torturous hours, and I'm scheduled to work 6 days.So much for leaving quietly and in peace.Oh dear powers above, why do you toy with me so?(And no, I didn't win anything from Friday's lottery draw, though I did come extremely close to winning $20. The powers to be conspire against me.) Surprise! And at the behest of a fellow colleague at work, who also happens to be a full time branch manager for Singapore Pools. I had my first foray into legal gambling, spending all of 3 dollars on betting on a pot of 8 million, feeling quite sure that I had just spent money on an embarrassing exercise in futility.That is, the most exciting that's happened to me so far. I mean, exciting enough to compel a blog entry, I guess.Damn aunties. Don't they know that 18 means you can smoke, drink, club, have sex and gamble? Idolisation Is something that I should savour while I still can. As much as I feel washed up, there are times when there are people so eager and enthusiastic, willing to melt into a gleaming puddle of adoration at the sound of titles that are designed to weave images of grandeur and majesty way beyond their actual prestige.And please, don't stop leaving me your phone number. One day, I might actually call back! Though it's very highly unlikely that I will (people whom I would love to call never give me their phone numbers). SIT DOWN. I raised my voice at an autistic kid yesterday. Specifically, an autistic kid who was screaming at the top of his lungs in a restaurant. I raised my voice to ask him to keep quiet, without noticing that he was autistic. I was on an extremely short fuse. Time off from the maddening mundanity of work is rare and I am very protective of the remnants of what used to be a 'life'.The Mother, confronted me after I succeeded in quelling the inconsideration and I was profoundly affected by her declaration that I could have been more polite.Simply because her kid was autistic.Well, I did say excuse me and please. With any other person, I think the situation would have turned out differently. Since his mother thinks I should have been more polite with her kid, does that mean it's okay to negatively discriminate? Because if you took away the kids' autism you would be left with a rude child who cannot be controlled his parents.Ah, dilemma. I need to think about this one. Managing Expectations. You know, I've been single for almost two years now and it isn't fun. Not withstanding the stupid little almost relationship that I was conned into by this girl whom I suspected had really deep rooted issues, being single for so long has been horrible.Without any other distraction to occupy the time spent waiting for our glorious army to finally get their asses into gear, processing and finalizing the details of my conscription I thrust myself deep into work spending nearly every waking moment working, earning money only to spend it on frivolous endeavours.It's not that there weren't girls. Sure, there wasn't a mad dash to throw themselves at my feet but the timeliness of the could have been encounters were great. One after the other, once every few months these opportunities were hurt by a man so obsessive and narcissistic that the only result could have been failure in part to constant self sabotage with expectations that were incredibly unrealistic.Then there were the ones who were extremely awesome and cool, whom I chanced upon only on rare happy occasions whose attention I never seem to get. The ones which I managed to interest quickly became disinterested because I was too caught up in being awestruck to properly function; not unlike a pissy little girl. But now, I'm not going to let nerves get the better of me.Nope, I'm making a very determined effort to stay cool under pressure.Especially with passing faces that induces deep seated crushes. If fate ever allows me a second chance to revisit said passing face, I'm never going to sheepishly wave hello as my tongue gets stuck in my mouth. I'm going to go balls out and take the initiative and fuck off to whatever reservations that inhibit me from behaving normally.Yes, functioning as a solitary element for too long is boring. Time to be proactive in inducing change. UGH. I want to curl up and die. I feel washed up and spent, like crunchy cookies left out in the humid Singaporean weather for too long. Long over past the used by date, no longer crunchy or delicious.And, I'm still young. I'm still young. I shouldn't feel like this. Books. When I was a wee toddler, I was exposed to Tetsuko Kuroyanagi. At the age of 10, I resented the fact that I was to be forced upon a hobby that I had otherwise enjoyed and primarily thrived upon. At age 14, I was horrified that Roald Dahl was being used as lower secondary literature text. Roald Dahl is (most famously) a writer of children's books! The horrors! We children coming of age should be treated with more maturity. It was that year where I discovered The Dirty Dozen and E.M. Nathanson and almost immediately I fell in love with the incredibly long novels.I then endeavoured through Ivanhoe for the rest of the year, attempting to decipher a strange English language from a time long past.In upper secondary life,I failed miserably attempting to comprehend Thomas Pynchon and Gravity's Rainbow.Now, the literature of choice? Starbucks Coffee & Tea Resource manual, by corporate suites in an office in Seattle. But I'm trying to improve. I've just completed Malcolm Gladwell's Blink and it can only go uphill from here on out.Oh, Dear Dick look what you've become. finding romance It's not like there's a lack of things that'll invoke passion and sweep you away in wild infatuation. Discovering the different aromas of a busy kitchen or hearing the city bustle, then there are girls. Of late, I have been having incredibly dumb awesome luck with them, saying the right things at exactly the right time, damaged visual sensors, the kind of shit that builds up a sort of image that arouses mild idolization and unwarranted interest.Which is horrifying, because far from being interesting and superhuman, I think I belong in the 'waste of oxygen' category. I can discuss coffee, the weather, work, possibly some current affairs which I pick up from the daily rag and your personal well being.It really sucks when the most interesting thing that the opposite number has to share has something to do with eating something different for lunch. That horrid reminder of how gray and boring life has become, executives and wait staff alike, trapped in horrible routine. Once in a while something special happens, though. This fantastical sweeping whirlwind blowing in passion and romance chances upon this gray patch and evokes emotion that never seems to quite go away.But, cultivating this lingering feeling is so much harder than cultivating feelings stemming more from lust and disinterest. I'm quite confused as to why, though. Statistically speaking, I have always been much worse at cultivating relationships stemming from genuine interest, as opposed to that of disinterest and/or lust.And, if only I had the opportunity/balls/daily interaction necessary to build that feeling of love and profess it with the wild abandon that I need to, I wouldn't be at home at midnight typing away. Instead, I could be living 'happily ever after' or disappearing from life reeking of alcohol and despair for the next few months. Instead, I am disgruntled and grumpy and incoherent and quite pissed off that I still cannot forget. A Day In The Life Of. A good day.When at things start out bleak, but is slowly overtaken by sunshine and rainbows. Throw in the right words at the appropriate times and elicit smiles and laughter that lifts the gloomy shroud off the start the day.It's heartening, that after 6 months of self loathing and burying myself in work that some remnant of my former self still remain.Hi, I'm Dick. Yes, but does it matter, really? Store outing. So I skipped today's store outing, which makes me feel quite bad, because the store manager had put in a lot of effort in to ensuring that the outing could materialize. But then again, I have a dent-culminating in a bruise on my ankle courtesy of the edge of a fridge, burns on my hand from an oven, a nasty cut on my finger from getting clipped by the spring mechanism of an over sized trolley and numerous callouses on my feet plus I arrived home last night so damn exhausted from work that I had more trouble walking, sober than I ever had when I was wasted.Yes, I am attempting to justify my not showing up for the outing. It could be construed as whining, but to an audience of none it would hardly matter.Now, I have to go get prepared for work. Again. BRB does not mean be right back. Because I've blown off just about everyone I could. Best friend's birthday forgot, appointments not kept, people who beg to meet to no avail. At this point of time I'm not sure what I'm working so hard for either. The work isn't stimulating at all at this point, in fact I think I'm in danger of becoming extremely jaded and I don't really need the money if I'm going to spend it on things that isolate me further from the world.I promise I will make an effort to cut down on work after I work out next week's fuck up in scheduling and maybe stop using The Beatles to move along life. All you need is love, certainly-but.