Where should I start tonight’s entry? From the time when we were living our sweet memories, or from last night, when I returned to a place that held the sweet memories for us (well, I do like to think it was sweet for her too). Don’t get me wrong- I’m not missing her or thinking about getting back together or anything. It just reminded me of the past, that’s all. Kind of like when you go back to my primary school, you look at the garden you used to play in and memories come flooding back- you know, that kind of nostalgic feeling. Well, I guess that’s why they say you only live once- although certain places can be revisited and certain people can be remembered, but certain memories can never be relived.

You see, I met up with JJ, MM and JT last night. Actually, I have been meeting them just about every weekend for the past few months, but I have hardly blogged about it, because it has become somewhat a routine. And oh, you know what? Last weekend on the way back from the airport, we drove past SY’s place in Pasir Ris. Well, what can I say- another nostalgic moment for me. It’s not like I can help it- certain things just stay with you for life. I mean, if given a choice, would anyone of you like to erase an ex from your memory like in the movie ‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind’? I wouldn’t- personally, everything happens for a reason, and for better or worse, I would like to remember all my ex (all 2,375 of them).

So, where was I? Okay, MM’s birthday was approaching, so we headed down to Geylang and gave him a treat. No, we did not get him a hooker, we just treated him to a sumptuous supper that’s all. And sorry to disappoint you dirty-minded pricks once again, the nostalgic place I was referring to in the first paragraph is NOT Geylang. But anyway, while we were there, I brought them to the alleys behind the buildings to check out the ‘goods’- you know, just looking around and commenting on how beautiful some of them actually were. No, that’s all we did (quit laughing, I’m serious)- firstly, I don’t believe in paying for sex, and secondly, I’m keeping my virginity for my future wife.

Well, it’s just look, no touch- not unlike window-shopping actually. Personally, it’s no big deal- whenever I’m there with my friends, I would make an effort to ‘check out the sights’ after supper- it aids digestion, plus parking in Geylang is never easy to find. But well, it’s the first time I brought a female friend there, and frankly, I felt kind of bad when I saw dozens of lecherous men ‘visually raped’ JT. There’s nothing I can do can, can I? For all I know, they maybe thinking I’m a pimp. But JT was fine and she took it quite well- it’s always a compliment when guys check you out, no? And while I was there, I was also busy looking out for familiar faces- more specifically, any of my guy friends who have trouble controlling their urges. Don’t worry, if I see any of them there, you’ll be the first to read about it here on my blog. See, another reason for their girlfriends to frequent my blog and boost my readership.

Anyway, after supper, we headed down to East Coast Park- and yes, this is where I thought of SY. Isn’t it funny how two human beings who used to share a life together aren’t even on talking terms now? Alright, I was at fault for the breakup. I was young, I was impulsive and I made my fair share of mistakes. But who hasn’t? During our breakup, I said the harshest things, but it’s not because I meant it, but because I felt it would made it easier for us both to move on with our own lives subsequently. Perhaps she has missed the point- me being mean does not hide the fact that there were cracks all over our relationship, and that was the real reason I left her. I am not one who hangs on and prays for a miracle to happen- to be together, first I have to see a future with you, and rest are all secondary.

So, the four of us sat by the beach and gazed at the stars and sad to say, I let my emotions get the better of me. I admit I did tear a little, well, that’s because I am only human (and all along you people thought I have the emotional capacity of a tablespoon). Here I was, thinking of her, feeling sad and all, and I wondered, somewhere out there, was she thinking of me too. Just like in the movie ‘Before Sunrise’, Jesse mentioned something to the same effect too. Honestly, SY has been the most important ex (out of the 2,375 of them), because she’s the one who taught me so much about the differences of falling in love and being in love.

It’s been a good six years since, and the beach still looked the same. The wind was still blowing and stars were still shining, yet things could not have been more different. I am still the same GuangHui, but deep down, I know I am no longer the same person.

*Was there ever any doubt about that in the first place?

Apparently, my mate Patrice got into a brawl while warming down at Stamford Bridge yesterday evening. Nothing new- they French never like to back down from a challenge. I also got news that Ji showed off some of his Korean martial art while Carlos demonstrated his street fighting skills from Buenos Aires. So, it’s fair to say we won the fight- that’s what champions are made off, I tell you.

Well, at least that’s what I’ve heard. I was in my Bugatti Veyron, on my way to meet Keeley at the fine Armouries Grille restaurant in London.

So, we may have lost the game, but my life is still exceptionally beautiful.

Dear Fans,

You know I would never lie to you. I always speak the truth- the entire truth, and nothing but the truth. Well, I was on the pitch and I saw everything. Michael did not use his hand. The referee didn’t see nothing wrong. But the linesman somehow managed to flag for a penalty- that would undoubtedly be his last match. No, not because he would be sacked for his mistake, but rather, because he no longer needs to work anymore, not when Roman just deposited a healthy sum of cash into his bank account.

Sad to say, money talks- and you thought we footballers are rich.

Still crying my heart out,

Cristiano (38 goals) 

So, my lovely ex Megan Fox is the sexiest woman on the planet, according to FHM. Why am I not surprised?

In other news, Britney just barely squeezed (her fat mother-of-two ass) onto the list at number 100- how the mighty (in every sense of the word) great has fallen. And Megan beat David’s wife by 98 places- eat that, Victoria. And that stick thin English with a dozen boob jobs is actually sexier than Emma Watson (who didn’t even make the list)?

Un-f*cking-believable.

So, yesterday afternoon, I was on my way out to meet up with Les and Benitez for some soccer at NP when I ran into my little sister at the bus-stop. We stopped and chatted for a couple for a minutes (I was asking her what took her so long to get home, and she gave the excuse that she was busy with some dumbass project in school or something). And you would never have guessed what happened next. Her classmates on the opposite side of the road saw us talking and immediately called my mum and told her that her poor daughter was confronted by an Ah Beng. F*ck me, but do I look that bad? I mean, I was in my Manchester United attire and all, and hair is kind of long and I know I have a hostile face, but come on, you all know I’m a innocent angel that would never hurt a fly. Look at the picture below- that’s sweet little me. Totally harmless.

Needless to say, my mum was kind of worried and was totally relieved my sister arrived home minutes later to tell her about it. Well, the positive thing is those Edison-wannabes from my sister’s school will now think twice about messing with her (think along the lines of ‘you break her heart, I’ll break your f*cking neck, you young punk’). And oh, the next time I run into those whiney classmates of hers, I am so going to b*tch-slap their little mouths.

This article on page six of yesterday’s Life section that caught my attention. Apparently, it is weekly column by SPH’s female journalists entitled “Girl Talk”. It first caught my eye two weeks ago with this article by Suzanne Sng called “Caught in a Clooney conundrum”. It was about how being Clooney’s girlfriend will ruin a girl’s love life forever- one, he is a permanent bachelor and will never marry her, and two, the next guy that comes along is never, ever going to match up to the great George Clooney’s standards. She went on to add that attractive girls are usually paired with equally attractive guys based on Darwinian logic.

That said, she said there tend to be a few exceptions- girls sometimes prefer inner beauty more than outer one, unlike guys who are mostly superficial and will most probably hook up with the prettiest chicks. Let me say something here from a guy’s point of view- that is absolute horse sh*t. The girls I have dated are average at best, and if the crap theory she mentioned works, I should be dating the likes of Jessica Alba or Keeley Hazell. But hell no, I am a nice guy- I give every girl a fair shot at posing for my Sony SLR Digital Camera. If that’s the case, then why I am still not nice enough for the hot chicks? A classic case of Catch-22, I would say.

F*ck guys with inner beauty and a kind heart. The way I see it, babes (in fact, girls in general) are attracted to guys with a fat bank account and a BMW Z4. Well, in a last ditch attempt to boost her own ego and console her miserable self (honestly, this Suzanne journalist doesn’t really fall under the ‘girls I would take a second look at’ category and would most definitely not hook up with a hunk in her life), she concluded that she has yet to meet a good-looking guy who isn’t in love with himself. What a total loser! The fact that you can’t get the grapes doesn’t mean they are sour, lady. I just want to say this in response- I have yet to meet a girl who isn’t a sucker for pretty boys. Look only as far as Gillian, Cecilia, Bobo, Maggie and the other 4,273,096 women in Edison’s hard disk.

Okay, sorry for sounding rather agitated, but there’s two types of women I totally despise- sexists and whiney b*tches. So, back to this week’s article, “Mr Right? Check this out”, which is written by Sandra Leong. Hers is rather simple- it’s about having a set of criteria your future other half has to fall under, a checklist of sorts. Well, this Sandra girl is rather nice (she is neither a sexist nor a whiney b*tch), so I have nothing against what she has written. Well, she totally inspired me to form my very own checklist.

*Must not snore.

*Must be at least 32DD.

*Must have long, black hair.

*Must not be a Liverpool fan.

*Must shave armpits, legs, face.

*Must be able to be a good mother and wife.

*Must be as tall as me. Must be above 1.70 metre.

*Must be able to cook and do simple household chores.

*Must not have nude photos taken with ex’s Sony SLR Digital Camera.

*Must not have a face which was ran over before by a Boeing A380 5-tonner.

Anyway, Sandra also said that basically, guys fall under two categories- those who are fun for the moment but realistically speaking, would never make the cut; and those who fulfilled her criteria, but who were less inclined to give her butterflies in her stomach. Totally spot on. Examples of category one- Edison; examples of category two- Nicholas. I suppose given my age and maturity, I am definitely more of an Edison than a Nicholas. But it’s okay, because I am already in love (with the only person who fulfils my criteria, is fun, gives me butterflies in my stomach and would never break my heart) - myself.

In her conclusion, she also factored in a rather good point- no checklist can ever capture a real person, or account for the incredible combustion that happens when two people get together and allow themselves to fall in love. In order words, your checklist goes right out the window when you fall head over sneakers in love with that sweet, little girl in your lecture theatre who has been relentlessly passing you flirtatious glances for the past six months. For you half-wits out there, it’s something called CHEMISTRY- and no amount of feeding donuts will buy you that. Get that, you c*nt? So, enjoy your bloody donuts while it last, because I tell you, it’s only a matter of time before she is in my arms.

Sh*t, I’m talking about her again.

*And yes, she left her bra at home. Again.

*Just where exactly did little Cruz learn this?

Now you know both father and son are right-handed.

I bought my first dumbbell yesterday. It very nearly killed me carrying it back, and I have to thank my gay buddy Les for giving me a ride home. Well, I suppose a dumbbell would help cut down the number of trips I make to the gymnasium, but I was particularly keen to get it after I saw K-Fad having one too under his bed. He’s only thirteen, and he inherited it from his dad. Isn’t that sweet? I am definitely keeping mine for my kid, if I have one that is. Honestly, the odds don’t look that good at the moment.

Before that, in the morning, I had a Sociology class in school. And yes, after a two-month absence, Miss Y made her return and once again proved why she alone is the one and only irreplaceable queen of my heart. Appearance-wise, she hasn’t changed much (except for a longer hair, and maybe a couple of extra pounds, due to those fatty donuts), but the fact is, even if she did, I would still love her all the same. Seriously, the whole hall was full of girls, yet I was only looking at her- I call that having a faithful crush, my guy friends call it selective ogling. Whatever the case, we only exchanged a couple of passing glances and that’s about it. And yes, until now I am still thinking of her. F*ck me.

Local love story that has been making the headlines the past two weeks- a couple that hails from Indonesia and China. Yes, Ronald Susilo and Li Jiawei. Personally, washing dirty linens in the public leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and this communication via the papers is not going to help solve things between them. All right, I know, all relationships have their fair share of problems, and more often than not, they lead to breakups. I speak from experience (read: drying tears from my eyes as I look back on the 157 failed relationships I had- blame it on Kira and the Sony SLR Digital Camera). But seriously, they are from two different backgrounds and cultures- it was never going to work out in the first place. Once again, I speak from experience, but this time, I’m not joking (read: trying my best to shed some tears for the sake of proving I’m not a heartless b*stard while thinking about…erm…nothing much actually). Sh*t you not, but right now, the thought of Miss Y feeding donuts to her that lucky piece of sh*t boyfriend hurts my heart approximately 47,234 times more than the thought of any one of my ex feeding donuts to whichever unlucky piece of sh*t she is with now. Told you I’m a heartless b*stard. I know- f*ck me.

Alright, back to Ronawei or Jianald- it sounds kind of awful (Ben Affleck + Jennifer Lopez = Bennifer, Brad Pitt + Angelina Jolie = Bradelina, get it?). Love is not like in the movies- in real life, every little thing matters. Parents, religion, personality, mindset, dress sense and even the way you pose for my camera can and will lead to a breakup. That said, the reasons for their breakup were a difference in character and spending habit. From what I gather from the papers, Ronald seriously makes Ayu seem like a spendthrift (for your information, Ayu used to ask me for the 50 cents, yes, f*cking 50 Singapore cents, I owed him from supper the other night). So, according to Jiawei, Ronald apparently asked her for money via a text message after they just broke up. I don’t blame her- seriously, how can she love a guy who loves money more than her?

That said, according to Ronald, Jiawei is a pampered b*tch who has a bad temper and spends money freely. But nobody’s perfect, and we as readers of a newspaper will never know what actually took place in their relationship. Well, to round things off, Jiawei tried to pimp herself to eligible bachelors out there by saying she is currently unattached and would rather not date a fellow athlete again in the future. She went on to say that the guy she likes must have a sense of responsibility, the drive to improve himself and generous to her and her friends and family.

Well, I am single and not about to be a national soccer player anytime soon (I rather stick with playing for Manchester United). Plus I am responsible enough to keep my private photographs in encrypted hard disks hidden under my bed (unlike a certain Edison) and I am constantly trying to improve my photo-taking skills by inviting girls to pose for me in my bedroom. And lastly, I have never asked for 50 cents from any of friends before and neither have I asked for a single cent from an ex. So, from the looks of it, it seems like I am everything Jiawei is looking for. Is there anything that can stop us from hooking up?

Well, yes. Miss Y.

Just f*ck me.

*Now you know why I visit the gym religiously. It’s for braless babes

  like this- if she isn’t reason enough for you, you must be either gay or

  Michael Jackson.

Just to keep my you guys informed, Season III of Heroes will premiere on 15^th September. There will be a new narrator (seriously, that Mohinder Suresh character sounds utterly dreadful), twelve (yes, TWELVE) new characters and the first episode of the new season is entitled “The Butterfly Effect” (how appropriate). Plus the beautiful Kirsten Bell will be back as Elle.

You can read all about it here, and watch it here.

Let the countdown begin.

YATTA!!!

Over the weekend, I felt I passed the ultimate test to quitting smoking. You see, for me, the first step is always to surround myself with non-smokers, base on the theory of ‘out of sight, out of mind’. So far, I have managed to do that, except the odd occasion or two where I hang out with XP and company. So, last Saturday, I met up with my mates from Swiss Club- yeah, the days of Marlboro and Corona for breakfast still fresh in my mind. I tell you (for the 472^nd time), time flies- it has been almost a year to the day I left Swiss Club, and left that chapter of my life behind me. I am not saying these mates are bad company or anything, as I firmly believe it takes two hands to clap, but when you are stuck with a joyless job, the only release is to numb yourself with nicotine and alcohol. But a year on, I am pretty impressed by how much I have cleaned up my life- I have quit smoking, stopped binge-drinking and nowadays, I visit the gym regularly, play my soccer, and late nights only constitutes MSN-ing JT or having supper with the lot of them, and not to forget the fact that I am currently a student as well as a wonderful tuition teacher. I am surprised by my own power of perseverance. Personally, everything is like a switch to me- when I am into it, I will flick the switch on, and when I’m over it, I can simply turn it off. You can say I am forever a product of my own environment.

So, yeah, we were out at a pub- a friend’s pre-wedding celebrations and everything. I drove my dad’s car there intentionally- my perfect excuse for not drinking. Not that I can actually drink much these days- all it takes is a couple of shots of vodka and you can have me easily, ladies (you can take it as an invitation if you like). Well, we were talking about old times, and they were teasing me about my ex from Bali. Yeah, time flies (473^rd time), I have been out of love for almost a year now, and no, I am not looking forward to jumping into a relationship anytime soon, not even with Miss Y (more on that later). At the pub, we had our usual dose of KTV and billiard action, and they were f*cking chain-smoking- that is what happens when you give excessive amount of alcohol to a smoker-alcoholic. I had one pint of beer, and some soft drinks (that was definitely a first for me- green tea at a pub), but seeing they were absolutely high, smoking and teasing me, I felt somewhat rather distant from them.

But you know me, I have always been able to resist temptations (unless it’s Miss Y asking me out or something, that’s different). I held my own, resisted whatever sh*t they threw at me in their drunkard rage and sent each of them home safely (from Ang Mo Kio to Hougang to Redhill). On the way home, I was speeding along AYE with the windows down and love songs blasting from my earphones, and I thought to myself- I really have grown up. All that nonsense only numbs the pain and take your mind off your troubles for the night, and after so many nights, it starts to take a toll on your body. It is really not worth it- sacrificing the health of your lungs and liver just for that few hours of fun. Dear friends, I have come to see the light, have you?

Well, Sunday night was spent at Holland Village with Les, XP, Alan and K watching that all important match of the season. We won (I was expecting nothing less), but tough luck on the Gooners- without Flamini, Sagna and Rosicky, they still managed to play us off the park for the first forty-five minutes. I give credit when credit is due, so hats off to them. The second half was pretty even, but I felt Clichy was by far the best player of the match, and Adebayor was simply the worst. But what can I say? We have the luck of champions, and nothing can stop us now. Bring on Chelski and Barcelona!

Monday night was spent having supper with JJ first, and then with Ayu, as he was test-driving a new car his dad bought for him and his brother. Well, well, well, now that he has a car, travelling time to Yishun to have a quickie with his chick has just been cut by half- I can only imagine Ayu’s joy. Yesterday, I was at the gym with Les and Alan. We went swimming afterwards, and we spent some time chatting about girls while relaxing in the pool. You see, Alan is a friend of Miss Y. Yes, yes, yes, the forbidden fruit that is Miss Y. A girl who has morphed into a larger than life character on my blog, mostly due to my readers’ incessant interest in her. So much so that even Alan himself referred to her as Miss Y, rather than by her real name. And no, I have not asked him to introduced me to her (I shall leave that to fate), and neither have I asked him for her number (I only give numbers, I don’t ask for them, and most definitely not through a third party).

Well, he told Les and I about what Miss Y did for her boyfriend (that lucky piece of sh*t). Apparently, that piece of sh*t told Miss Y that he suddenly had a craving for some donuts from Donut Factory, and Miss Y being the fantastic girlfriend that she is, duly went to the nearest outlet and queued for more than an hour just to buy some of those donuts for her fat ass boyfriend (that lucky piece of sh*t). Isn’t she just too good to be true? Isn’t he just an extremely lucky and lazy fat ass? I mean, I would never need Miss Y to do anything for me. All she has to do is smile at me, and I would make her donuts every single day if she wants. I am not trying to advertise myself to her or anything, but I can say I am certainly not some lazy fat b*stard sitting at home waiting to be fed.

But, so what? Frankly, I am over her. I mean, if she is so very much in love with her boy, then I can only stand aside and wish her happiness. That’s the least I could do for her, no? That said, my miserable heart will still be here praying for the day she buys some donuts for me too.

F*ck me.