It is fifteen past six on this wet Sunday evening, and I just got home from school (with Ong Bak) about an hour or two ago. It was absolutely pouring over at Bukit Timah just now and thankfully I drove my dad’s car to school (may I emphasise it is my dad’s ride, as it is I am not particularly proud of actually. I much rather drive my own Cherry QQ or some sh*t ride bought with my own money than be driving my dad’s car- it only displays his wealth, not mine). I was supposed to be playing soccer with Ong Bak but due to the sh*t weather, we parted ways and he went for dinner with someone else. I did not ask (who it was) because I did not want to know, because the more I know (about his sh*t), the more guilty I feel whenever I think of Es. It is not unlike being caught between a rock and a hard place, but seriously, what am I supposed to do? Rat on my friend? I mean, my friends never did stick their noses in my affairs when it comes to women, so neither I should return the favour, right?

 

Anyway, I saw Tattoo Girl in school but nothing much really happened. I mean, we talked but that seems to be the only thing we ever do- we talk and talk but we never really got to know each other any better. See, it is like a merry-go-round, it is fun while you are on it but when it never gets you anywhere. And I saw Miss Y (finally!)- she didn’t dress up (it was a Sunday!), in her Harry Potter glasses and everything, looking pretty much like a typical undergraduate, yet, Miss Y being Miss Y, her presence catching my attention is pretty much a given any day of the week. She just seems so tall when standing next to all the other girls in the lecture hall, and you guys know I am a sucker for tall girls with long flowing hair. Oh well, while my eyes feasted on her beauty, my heart remained empty.

 

And oh, I saw this girl who was sitting a couple of rows in front of me (I know, it was a finance lecture, but there were seriously TONS OF GIRLS). We were kind of like casing glances at each other, flirting visually and everything, and then (after lunch) she tied her hair up and I saw this huge tattoo on her neck. God, and you guys know very well I am also a big fan of inked beauties. But sad to say, the tattoo on her neck is just about the only one I would ever see and then it was the end of lecture and we parted ways and I do not think I will ever see her again. F*ck me but I doubt I would recognise her even if I run into her in school tomorrow- I call this the Toomanypussies Syndrome.

 

So, enough of the foreplay, the point of my entry this evening is that I was driving home, I was alone and I started thinking what life would be if I had another girl sitting next to me. I am not going to go all hypothetical and quote names such as SY or Miss Y lest anyone of you assume the lady in question is the one I am pining for (the fact is I am not pining for anyone). I was on the phone with JT just now before I started on this entry and after hearing about my day in school (with the three ladies mentioned above), she was like asking me, so will my next girlfriend be the one I marry?

 

Honestly, I do not know. A lot depends on certain Durex products not malfunctioning, but random variables aside, I still do not have a definite answer to her question. I mean, I could fall in love right now if I let myself. There are no shortages of girls in my life, say, some friends of friends whom I know, I could like take the initiative to move things along and ask for her number or MSN or some sh*t, but these days, I seriously cannot be bothered. Well, I would very much prefer her to ask for my number and I would gladly give it to her, but it is the equivalent of her asking if I need a blowjob and no girl in the right mind would ever do that. I know it is the 21^st century and everything, but still I believe girls lack the balls to ask a guy out and the sexist in me aside, I do understand girls are girls, they all love to be courted, pampered and treated like princesses (while we guys just love to be blown).

 

Anyway, those girls in question are all fine ladies, some attached, some not- the latter category represents a lack of challenge while the former, well, you know I am a strong advocate against third party-ism. Okay, given my qualities, I am pretty confident I would not be rejected if I asked them out, but the point is, I do not want to in the first place. You know me, when I do sh*t, I want to do it well- same goes for my soccer, same goes for my stint in Brunei, same goes for my studies. If I know I am not prepared to give a hundred percent, I would rather not do it. Right now, I have more important priorities to attend to, and like I have said, I do not mind having a girl by side when I am driving home on a rainy Sunday afternoon, but why take her for a ride when I am not willing to afford her all my time and effort and be the best boyfriend I can be?

 

So, for the time being, the seat beside me shall remain empty (like my heart), but that does not mean I cannot be happy living life by myself- my mood does not rise and fall on one person or one football club’s result. Right now, I am just glad to be able to have the time to do my sh*t and get my ducks in line, and I am sure there would come a time for the seat beside to be filled, and you can be sure it would definitely not be my dad’s car, but my own GT-R or 370z (yes, I know, my taste in girls is as exotic as my taste in cars).

 

 

You know your time will come.

After more than two weeks, I finally got to see Tattoo Girl again, and she is still as adorable as ever. I almost forgot how much I love the way she laughs, and those eyes, when they look deep into mine, my God, nothing else in the world could come between us. And those lips, those which I thought I kissed at the back of the cab, they looked kind of mouth-watering in every sense of the word.

 

But alas, the moment she opened her mouth (to blow speak), the distance between the two of us cannot be greater. Is this the very definition of an infatuation? One whereby you are in love only with a face and not with a person? I really wanted to tell her about my quite beautiful dream, but what difference will it have made?

 

So there she is, right in front of me, all I have to do is reach out my hand and I can feel those long flowing hair, but at the same time, she cannot be further away from me.

 

 

You know it is breaking my heart.

I attended HL’s wedding a few weeks back with Ong Bak and Les, and I saw tons of familiar faces. See, HL and I go way back to our college days. I mean, she was SY’s classmate and BFF while we were dating, and the thing was she hated my guts then. She deemed me too much of an ‘Ah Beng’, while I hated her because whenever SY and I had our disagreements and everything, HL would do what girlfriends do for each other- side with the girl and stir the guy’s sh*t. Then the most amazing thing happened- SY and her drifted apart afterwards while HL and I kept in constant contact (even after SY and I broke up). Hence, SY was not invited to her wedding but I was. Most un-f*cking-believable!

 

Well, I saw her former classmates at the wedding and my thoughts inevitably drifted to SY and sh*t. If we had not broken up, we would be celebrating our seventh anniversary this year. Seven years- the period of time is f*cking astounding. Time f*cking flies and looking back, I realise just how much I have changed since then. I am pretty sure if SY and I were still dating, this blog would never have existed- seriously, who would want to read a blog deliberating about the wonders of a grand total of ONE pussy? Imagine me going on and on about say, Tattoo Girl and Tattoo Girl alone for the next seven years- would you still be reading my blog?

 

So, it was HL’s big day and looking at her, it only seems like yesterday we were bickering like little kids in our college uniform. But now that she has found someone to share the rest of her life with, I am happy for her from the bottom of my heart- even though a commitment-phobic like me would never comprehend a seven-year relationship, let alone a marriage. Anyway, Ong Bak was sort of like the matchmaker in HL’s union- he was the recruiter who recommended her to this company where she met her husband. And speaking of the devil, Ong Bak not only likes to match-make other people, he also enjoys matching his dick with multiple pussies (at the same time).

 

As you know by now, I have been spending quite some time with Ong Bak preparing for my preliminary examinations and I have to say our time alone has allow me to peep deeper into the great player’s mentality (just like the quality time Sylar had with his father). The boy just wants to have his fun, and at the same time, both Es and him have grown and changed and drifted apart, not unlike Glenn and Jamie, not unlike SY and me.

 

Hand on my heart, I can totally understand where he is coming from. The thrill of dating more than one chick at the same time is seriously mind-blowing. Like I remember there was this one time, I was sending SY home, and on the bus I was already texting BY to discuss our impending tryst. After SY and I hugged and kissed goodbye, I simply took off and bolted for my next point of rendezvous and within a matter of minutes, I was having tonsil war with a second tongue. Boy, do I miss those days.

 

But hey, do not judge me- just because I can relate to Ong Bak does not imply that I agree with what he is doing. I mean, give me a f*cking break. I was barely eighteen then and my dick was pretty disobedient, plus I never had a mentor friend to advise me with his past experiences and guide me towards the path of enlightenment, unlike Ong Bak (who has me as his role model confidant). By the way, for the record, it was not like I was caught by SY or anything like that. After a couple of weeks with BY, I simply confessed and broke it off with SY- I already thought it through and had my mind made up. Like I have told you guys before, SY and I were never going to make it, and BY was nothing more than a catalyst.

 

Anyway, for the last time, I told Ong Bak he is definitely going to regret whatever he is doing and is going to continue doing. Seriously, this sh*t is going to get him nowhere- trust me, I know. At the end of it all, he is going to look back and realise which girl was the one who was worth it all, and see what he had lost, and in all probability, it is going to take him at least another ten years and twenty vaginas to reach that stage of enlightenment.

 

Certain things can be taught, but other things can only be experienced, and Ong Bak is doing the latter, and doing it the hard way. It is but a phase in life, and from one (former) player to another, I wish him the best of luck.

 

 

You know it never gets you anywhere.

                                            

I had my annual dinner date with Tigress the other evening- I know, I have been going out lately and meeting some old friends, but that is only because my prelims are over and my revision classes have yet to start. As you all know by now, after the end of my revision classes would be my main examinations and then less than seven days after my last paper I would be flying to Connecticut. I will be back only in the middle of September, and school resumes the end of September, so basically, I would have absolutely no opportunity to catch up with my pals if I do not choose to do it now. I have already made plans till the end of Friday, so if any of you want to meet up, do let me know early yeah.

 

So, back to Tigress- it has been like over a year since we last met, and she still looks like an Ah Lian and I still look like an Ah Beng, so no changes there. She is forever busy, like seriously busy- hard to locate, ever harder to contact. I mean, I am busy as well, but I always try to return your calls or messages when I am done with whatever I was busy with. Anyway, we caught up on each other’s life, backstabbed our common enemies (read: the enemy of my enemy is my friend), insulted each other relentlessly and expressed our common adoration for Dorota Serena van der Woodsen (here here here here here). It was rather enjoyable because it was kind of like talking into the mirror- her confidence and sarcasm bothers on conceit and scorn respectively, but then again, it takes one to know one, right?

 

Besides that, she was her usual flirtatious self, just like me, but the difference was she is much more explicit as compared to yours truly. Well, she had on this awfully short skirt which flaunted her legs ala her favourite character on Gossip Girl, and batting her eyelashes at horny males with semen flowing from their ears. I mean, there is nothing wrong with that, but it just that I was wondering if she had any lingerie on and the thought alone gave me a colossal erection which I found particularly hard to conceal. Anyway, she is going to be a college lecturer real soon and I am pretty sure in no time, she is going to start a relationship with some hot-blooded college kid who thinks with his dick (just like Dan Humphrey).

 

Tigress reads my blog faithfully (despite her busy schedule, I might add), so she knows I have been losing myself to the books lately. Yes, all my friends have been telling me to strike a balance between studies and leisure, and I am grateful for all of your concern, but not to worry, I am always in control of my sh*t and there is no way I am going to go round stabbing teachers in the back. I do know my limits but it just that I am pretty driven when it comes to chasing my dreams and achieving my goals.

 

Well, the dinner was on her and I felt kind of bad, I mean, call me a MCP or a gentleman, but I would have preferred if we went Dutch or something as I do not like the idea of being treated (unless it is a free blowjob) by anyone other than my girlfriend. Anyway, I offered to go down on her to illustrate my deep gratitude but she was having none of it. But I have to say with each passing date, I am beginning to enjoy her company more and more. Perhaps Honey was right- if given adequate time, I would learn to be myself with anybody. So for my next date, I am definitely asking Amy Winehouse out.

 

 

You know I love you.

I cannot believe my f*cking luck, like totally. Two weeks back, while jogging in a light drizzle, I slipped, fell, cut my knee and paid ninety-eight dollars to get four stitches done at twelve midnight. And then today, I got into an accident- this piece of sh*t (whose wife I am so going to f*ck) in his Mazda 5 did not check his f*cking right side when filtering out into the left lane.There I was on my Trek Equinox TTX Livestrong time trial bike, on the way home from K-Fad’s, listening to some Vertical Horizon, thinking about the wonderful dinner I was going to have with Honey and JT, and the next thing I knew I almost f*cking died. Thank God I had the reflexes of Pepe Reina, if not you guys will be having peanuts and green tea below my block now instead of reading about how I managed to escape death.

 

So, my ten-grand bike has gone the way of Manchester United’s unbeaten home record, while I suffered some cuts on the same f*cking left knee which just had the four stitches removed on Monday. Yeah, I know, like totally WHAT THE F*CK? I just do not get it- what have I done to deserve such rotten luck lately? I mean, aborting the kid was Clarissa’s idea, and Janice’s bun in the oven is so definitely not mine- there has been zero fornication between us for at least the last five and a half months. So, why God, what have I done to deserve this sh*t?

 

Anyway, on a different note altogether, I just had dinner with the two lovely ladies. They still seem the same, just that there was this added jadedness about them- working life is a b*tch, I know. First up, Honey- she is still the same, and we have disagreements about everything from the moment we meet till we part. But I am pretty glad she is still the same old girl who does not mind taking all my teasing and sh*t and giving it as good as she has got. A pretty tough lady I would say, and a Taurus by the way. I think from now on, mentioning any character on my blog will require me to add a word or two about his or her Zodiac Sign. Don’t ask.

 

Due to certain confidentiality issues, I cannot say much about her fascinating personal life (hint: it is something like Rihanna and Chris Brown, just that the party doing and getting the beating are swapped). Well, after she heard about the accident I got into, she was f*cking pissed and adamant that I made a police report so that the reckless motherf*cker gets a record or something. Let us just say she has her own method of persuasion to brainwash weaker minds, and you know my mind is anything but weak.

 

As for JT, she is still the same- brittle and apprehensive, but I think she is coping much better these days (she finally understood expectation is the curse of any relationship). Well, we chatted about work, about life, about our common friends, and it seems like those characters I mentioned regularly on my blog are becoming their friends as well. I feel my blog is slowly morphing into a Gossip Girl kind of thing, where everybody knows everybody. Well, at least it saves me from having to do an introduction whenever I tell them about my Casanova friend or some random deluded paedophile.

 

So, JT was asking about Tattoo Girl and why sh*t did not happen between the two of us. After my brief explanation, she concluded that the problem simply lies with me- no matter the amount of b*tching I do on my blog, at the end of the day, I just want to be single. Nail on the f*cking head, I have to admit. There is absolutely nothing wrong with the quality of pussies I have been seeing recently, and I am sure if given enough time, anyone from the Big Three can easily change my perspective on having a relationship.

 

By the way, JT and I also texting each other a couple of weeks back as well (bored in the office and bored in the library respectively), and she was like asking me, so if so many girls have come and gone and none seems to be the right fit, so what exactly do I look for in a girl. Well, my tastes are pretty simple- I like inked babes with killer boobs and hot ass plus a CFM face, not unlike Megan Fox and Angelina Jolie. Okay, seriously, I just need her to be someone I am one hundred percent comfortable with, like, totally at ease with. I can speak my mind and she can speak hers, we can agree and we can disagree but at the end of the day, what matters is we are simply ourselves when enjoying each other’s company, no masks no strings no nothing. Get it, ladies? Then what the f*ck are you waiting for? The red carpet?

 

 

You know you can only want me as much as I want you.

I shall carry on from where I left off last night. See, I was talking to Honey the other day and telling her about Tattoo Girl and the previous few girls I have been seeing. Her conclusion was that I was being too judgemental (what’s new?) and I should have given some of them a few more opportunities, spend some time together, and perhaps I would find certain things about them that would interest me on the seventh date or something. But seriously, what the f*ck? Seventh date? I am up to my neck in sh*t nowadays and I even carry my f*cking textbook into the toilet when I sh*t and she suggested I see a girl seven different times?  Then again, not using my examinations as an excuse, I still think one date would suffice.

 

Contrary to popular beliefs, I do not believe that the vagina is the door to a woman’s soul. I believe the mouth is, and no, I do not mean it in a blowjob sort of way. I am referring to the way she speaks, the manner she carries the conversation, the style she expresses her own thoughts and ideals. See, I am no longer a ‘jumper’ (i.e. I do not jump both feet first into relationships anymore), though I have tried it and failed terribly. I mean, at our age, we should have a pretty clear picture about what we want out of a relationship and where it is going to take us. Nala is a very good example- do not just love for love’s sake. And through Nala, I have learnt that certain things cannot be overcome- like an age gap and a difference in maturity of thought.

 

Tattoo Girl is only twenty and during certain conversations, I really struggle to see her point- not her fault, just Cupid’s. You know I have always preferred older women (MILF, GILF) - give me Angelina Jolie over Emma Watson any day. But still, like Honey has said, I should have been more flexible and not so rigid in my expectations and who knows one day, Tattoo Girl might just grow into the woman (take note: woman, not GIRL) that I will love dearly. Well, I retorted that it is also equally as likely for her to grow into a woman I truly detest and I might very well do a Chris Brown on her sweet little face. Let us just say I am not one for hypothetical questions, certainly not those concerning matters of the heart, certainly not at this stage of my life.

 

I am young and my future is ahead of me- why should I tie myself down with someone I am unsure of? Why should I settle for anything less? I mean, I am not like Les who is willing to sacrifice everything for one girl- I have tried it and it got me no f*cking where. So, for now, I would just love myself and share my loving of other girls with you on my beautiful blog.

 

Anyway, something happened the other night. I was studying well into the early morning, my mum woke up to use the toilet and she saw me on my bed buried in a gigantic pile of textbooks and notes, and she told me, for the first f*cking time in my life, NOT TO STUDY TOO HARD. What is next? Is it going to snow in Singapore? Or perhaps Liverpool is going to win the EPL this year?

 

Mums- they just do not get it, do they? See, I have given far too much of girls and sex my time, my effort, my life to settle for anything less. I am aiming high and I am aiming for everything- anything less would be unacceptable. I mean, I am not doing this to prove anything to anyone, it is just that, I take this as a challenge for myself to see how far I can go, and at the end of the day, I know I can do it. There is no room for failures.

 

 

You know the last paragraph sounded like an Obama’s speech.

Let us brush away the cobwebs and carry on the greatness of this majestic blog. Like always, after a long hiatus, my apologies to you, my dear faithful readers. It has come to my knowledge that a number of you have been having sleepless nights since I have been away, while several of you guys (who used to masturbate while reading my blog) have also been unable to get an erection ever since 25^th February. Anyway, now that I am almost at the end of my first paragraph, I am sure most of you already had your first ejaculation in weeks. You are welcome.

 

Well, I have been busy, you know, with, you know, stuff- partying, drinking, skinny-dipping with drunk sluts at East Coast Park, stabbing professors in the back et cetera. You know, the usual sh*t undergraduates are occupied with these days. So yeah, I have been pretty busy with everything but studying. Really.

 

So, where the f*ck do I start? All right, let us start from the beginning. I played soccer (like a month ago) and kicked some amateur ass five nothing (could have been more, if only our hopeless right winger did not try to emulate the dribbling and crossing skills of Dirk Kuyt for ninety minutes). And guess what? I almost (I stress almost, thanks to Les who used his two-hundred-and-fifty-pounds frame to stop me) got into a fight with one c*nt whose mother I am going to f*ck for sure in the not too distant future. Long story short, that f*ckface tried to take Ben the Man’s ankles with the sort of tackle Joey Barton would be proud off. I just do not understand these f*cking idiots- Ben was in the centre circle, we all know he is no Xabi Alonso so there was obviously no threat at all, and for f*ck’s sake, you f*cking losers are FIVE NIL DOWN. One stupid lunge is not going to win you the game. And please, can you at least learn to pass and shoot properly before you try to break your opponent’s legs? When the f*ck are these kids ever going to understand?

 

And oh, by the way, this bunch of losers is actually from my school- I have eleven more enemies now, and the list just goes on and on. Okay, rant aside, the point of it all was once again, my emotions got the better of me and in the process, I undid what I promised to do in my New Year’s resolution. I know, when you put a football and me together, you will get a fight nine times out of ten. I am beginning to wonder if it is just me, but trouble seems to follow me whenever I play soccer. You know me, most times, I am usually in control of my emotions, but when I am out on the pitch/court, the red mist just descends upon me and I will do a Wayne Rooney on some poor soul. And this time round, I wasn’t even the one being provoked to begin with, but purely out of concern of my friend’s ankles, I sprinted half the length of the field to politely enquired (in Hokkien) about the health of my opponent’s mum, only to clothesline my poor friend Les when he tried to give me a hug. For my troubles, I got a yellow card from the sh*t that is the referee, and I promptly enquired about the health of the sh*t’s mum as well.

 

What can I say? Story of my life- always getting into other people’s fight. As for my own fights, I seem to have lost the passion in fighting for what I want. But f*ck, I do not know what I want anymore. See, from young, I have never believed in horoscope and all that sh*t. I have always felt destiny is in my hands- sh*t do not just happen because of the way the stars are aligned. In fact, my motto from young has always been “Someday, I want to change my stars” (from the movie that made Heath Ledger famous). But as you have noticed recently, I have started believing in the stars (more of the Zodiac Sign readings, not so much the horoscopes) - partly due to JT’s influence, but mainly because I found a couple of websites which totally described me to the last detail. It was so spot on I found it eerie. So, it says Aquarians are supposed to be a good match with Gemini (Angelina Jolie and Natalie Portman, please take note) and not so much with those under the Taurus sign (Penelope Cruz- Spanish babes have always held a special place in my heart, but too bad). Click here and here for more details.

 

And this brings me to Tattoo Girl, who happens to be a Taurus for your information. So, you may have spotted us having lunch together in school a couple of times but it was just lunch pure and simple, it was not like I went down on her in the middle of the f*cking canteen, so please do not read too much into it- I am still single and available. Anyway, my point is, at the back my head, I already knew she was a Taurus, and a (big) part of me was like already thinking we definitely will not be anything more than friends, and so, it kinds of became a self-fulfilling prophecy.

 

I know, JT has already seriously told me off on this sh*t of believing some nonsense written on the internet instead of trusting the beautiful girl that is before my eyes and letting my heart decide. But then again, how do you explain Renoma Lady? She is a Taurus and where did it get me? Perhaps my judgemental nature has got the better of me once again. See, Tattoo Girl and I only hang out in school for like three or four times in school, after which I switched back to my usual gay study buddies (XP and Ong Bak). Okay, they do not have the most beautiful cleavage like she does, and neither do they give me a CFM (come-f*ck-me) face whenever they have a question to ask me, but why is it that studying with XP and Ong Bak is like 610 times more appealing than studying with Tattoo Girl?

 

You know, sometimes you study until you just cannot f*cking take it anymore, you will just crack a sexist joke with the boys, have a good laugh, lighten the mood a little, take in some air and then get on with the sh*t. But with Tattoo Girl, I have to be in this perpetual uptight and serious manner, which made me totally uneasy. Frankly, I hate not being able to be myself when I am with my friends. And it is not like I know what Tattoo Girl wants as well- she has been taking the initiative, messaging or calling me every now and then, talking about our progress and our day (mine is usually spent at MacDonald’s or the school library with my two gay buddies). Well, for all I know, all these sh*t does not have to mean anything. She may very well be treating me like her big brother who shares the same interest in getting ourselves inked.

 

Anyway, it is almost one now, and I have to hit the sack. Another early day awaits me tomorrow and life has not been really that good to me these days. And some last words to all those (even some I barely knew) who asked me about my lack of entries- I am deeply honoured by your enduring commitment to reading my modest blog. Just try not to wank too much- remember every time you wank, a kitten gets run over by a car while crossing the road.

 

 

You know you've missed me.