It’s been a week since my last meaningful entry. Like I’ve said before, my life isn’t like Edison Chen’s- he brings a different girl home every other night (well, as for me, I usually go to the girl’s place, at least once a night). Anyway, nothing really meaningful happened in my life this past week, except for this Sociology test I had yesterday. Well, it was not the test that got my heart racing, but this girl sitting in front of me. She is the one I have been noticing- you know, the type when during lecture and you get bored, you will turn your head and look at her for a good ten seconds or so. No big deal, but then again yesterday was the closest I have been in contact with her (and from the looks of things, the closest we ever will be in contact). She sat in front of me, and when I borrowed her stapler (it was not planned, I swear), our eyes met and our fingers touched, I felt this thing- different people have different definition for it, but most of us agree on calling it ‘love’. Okay, it was actually not as electrifying as I made it out to be, but you get the picture. I guess it is a ‘to be continued’ episode of my life then. Watch this space.

On a more meaningful note, Saturday was boys’ night out. Or rather, day and night out. We all played soccer (you know where, you know when) on Friday, and hence, we struggled to be on time for Saturday. As usual, Ong Bak was late, Benitez was early and I was just on time. The funny thing was I was going out with two guys who were out shopping for gifts for their other half (Benitez was for their one-month anniversary, Ong Bak his one-year anniversary). I haven’t bought stuff for girls in ages (unless you count Mooncakes as gifts and my Grandmother as a girl), so I was pretty lost. And I don’t know their girlfriends that well either- Benitez is secretive, and Ong Bak, to put it simply, is a liar. The SGTB effect, I told you.

So, Benitez bought a red Guess wallet for Cherish while Ong Bak bought a colourful le coq sportif accessory bag for Esther at Takashimaya. The power of love at its best. We went to Far East Plaza and The Hereen too, and though I haven’t been there for quite a while, they still looked pretty much the same. Yeah, at Takashimaya, I saw an old friend- a former classmate whom I haven’t seen in a decade. I didn’t recognise her (she looked pretty different from her Friendster photos), but she was a friend of Benitez from their JC days, so in the end we managed to say hi. It’s so weird, you know, seeing each other for the first time since primary school. It was awkward as we didn’t know what to say- we had nothing in common now as we have grown so much in ten years, and we cannot possibly discuss our primary school classmates and teachers, right? They all exist in our memories now- they GuangHui she remembered from years ago no longer exist and the GuangHui she saw last week is a different person altogether. Time changes us, we change with time. We can never go back in time to relive the memories, can we?

Well, we then proceeded to Plaza Singapura to catch ‘Rouge Assassin’. But before that, we spent some time at Starbucks folding roses out of dinner napkins (read: Ong Bak teaching Benitez, while I check out the eye candies). I have seen guys do crazier things in the name of love, but the three of us looked kind of out of place. Then, I wondered- what would it be like to fall for your friend’s girlfriend? That would seriously suck. Like in ‘Love Actually’, it will definitely suck. Anyway, don’t worry all my guy friends who are attached- you all know I have better taste than you.

The movie was fine, but then the most amazing thing happened- both Ong Bak and Benitez decided to cancel their plans to go out with their girls, and instead stayed with me to watch soccer. It proves soccer (not friends) is always more important than girls. So, we invited the cavalry (Les and Xiaopang) and in the end, we watched soccer at the row of pubs along Selegie Road. Benitez wasn’t in the best of moods afterwards as Liverpool played like crap while Les was in seventh heaven as he won some money and his beloved Arsenal kicked Derby’s arses. We then proceeded to Geylang (for the 274^th time) for supper. This is getting ridiculous- we are like heading for Geylang like once every two weeks, but only for the food. I know it is getting more and more unbelievable, but trust me when I say I do not need to pay for sex- I have girls taking queue numbers for me.

To end the night, we played billiard at Bukit Timah till four in the morning. What a day it has been- from Chicken Rice at Far East Plaza to Mee Pok at Plaza Singapura to Tiger beer at Selegie Road to Dim Sum at Geylang to Roti Prata at Bukit Timah. Needless so say, I felt like I had just finished having sex for the 274^th time when I got home.

Sunday soccer was cancelled, so I woke up at something like three in the afternoon. Anyway, speaking of soccer, I wasn’t really myself at FICO on Friday night. I know the red mist had descended on me that night, but I was provoked. I hate whiners- I always give as good as I take, no complaints, unless you are like elbowing me at every opportunity. But, there was this guy whom I had a running feud with. I admit I kicked him, but he gave my shin a pretty time too. The difference is, he always fall down and give an Oscar-winning performance at the slightest contact. There wasn’t any referee (fortunately for me) so I wonder what the hell was he thinking rolling about on the ground. Never in my life had I wanted to break somebody’s leg, but last Friday was as close as it got. I need to take a break from soccer- if not, with the way I have been playing lately, sooner or later, I will hurt someone or myself really badly. Well, soccer is not exactly for the faint-hearted. We shall see what happens this Friday night.

I caught the premiere of Heroes last night. It was simply breathtaking. There were new characters with special abilities, and Peter Petrelli is still alive! On the other hand, Prison Break seems kind of boring when compared to Heroes, the only good news being the arrival of Fernando Sucre. So, okay, that was my week. By the way, I read on the papers that the majority of Singaporeans are not satisfied with their sex life. Well, I can only say I will put in more effort in pleasing the Singaporean girls from now on. Wait and see.

She was so close I could smell her hair. Then again, she felt so far away.

Story of my life.

So I walked under a bus

I got hit by a train

Keep falling in love

Which is kind of the same

I've sunk out at sea

Crashed my car, gone insane

And it felt so good

I want to do it again

Hey Mom

Why didn't you warn me

Coz about girls is something I should have known

They're like chocolate cake

Like cigarettes

I know they're bad for me

But I just can't leave them alone

Can I?

It has been a while since my last entry- well, I was looking for inspiration. I mean, my life isn’t like David Beckham (where there is new stuff to blog about every other minute), you know. I took part in the SIM futsal tournament last week, and against all odds, we emerged third. I am actually part of the top three teams (out of the thirty-two which too part) in the whole of SIM. Sounds pretty good, no? And I pocketed a cool fifty dollar for my effort. On the hand, the football on show wasn’t pretty- there was no place for Ronaldo-like skills. It’s more like a Materazzi kicking contest (and how did you think we won?). I kicked countless balls, and even more legs- I hate to lose, so I rather win ugly. Not that my opponents were angels either. At the end of the day, whatever happens on the court stays on the court- I hope nobody will tear up my notes when I go for my break during lecture tomorrow. Friends forever, yeah.

Speaking of soccer, we played FICO again on Friday night. There were only three teams, and I had just finished my tournament, so I decided to relax a little and have a good time (read: kick fewer legs). Then, this dick came along and ruined everything. I mean, we play soccer, we all play hard, we all want to win, but then again, it is no World Cup final, and our opponents are mostly friend’s friends. Let me say this first- I am one who plays hard, with tenacity and tons of running, simply because I hate to lose. But I would never, ever injure my opponent intentionally just to score a goal or stop him in his tracks. I have seen countless friends suffer ligament damage, and I have hurt both my ankles before due to bad tackles. That is the reason I don’t wear studs to FICO, although it is an artificial turf court. I know boots will definitely give me better grip, but more often than not, my opponent can look at their shins after the game and tell what brand of boots I wore just by looking at the studs marks. That is the reason why I kept my Adidas Predator (with its bloodstained metal studs) hidden in a shoebox all this time. Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. Who knows? Maybe I will be bringing my metal studs (I will wipe off the blood first, of course) to play soccer this Friday. Be afraid, be very afraid.

I went out with Ayu last night to check out some nightspots to watch football on weekends. It wasn’t really successful, and it reminded me of ‘Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle’. Anyway, this Sunday we will all watch my team kicked the shit out of Chelski at Liquid Kitchen. See you there.

Enough of soccer. I really need to study. Catch you later.

I fell in love with the tattoo at first sight. http://www.reuters.com/article/inDepthNews/idUST26750520070903

And I managed to find more such tattoos on the net.

Just three words- it gotta hurt.

I have just finished watching the last episode of ‘Heroes’. It was simply awesome- comparable to the first season of ‘Prison Break’. The only downers- Nathan Petrelli died (most probably), Simone Deveaux and Isaac Mendez died (most definitely) and Peter Petrelli didn’t get to absorb Linderman’s healing powers before the latter was killed. All in all, a great season one though- looking forward to Peter and Sylar continuing their duel again in season two (happening this coming 24^th September). Season three of ‘Prison Break’ debuts one week earlier, by the way. I already caught the first fifteen minutes of the first episode on YouTube, and it was, erm, normal- the brothers have switched sides now; Lincoln is a free man now while Michael is behind bars in SONA. You must be wondering if Lincoln will get a whole bunch of tattoos and rob a bank just to get his little brother out. I cannot wait.

Anyway, I went to VivoCity to pick Tigress up from work last night. Good news- I didn’t get lost. Bad news- my style of driving is, let’s just say, not helping global warming one bit. I made my way from home to Habourfront in less than 25 minutes, I went the route Les had recommended, so I can roughly gauge how much fuel I consume along the way. It was a quarter tank! Okay, I admit, there was this black Mazda 3. And then there was this blue Comfort cab. And there were a few other cars. But other than that, I didn’t really floor the accelerator. I brake late, and I do bends and corners fast, but I don’t speed- even if it’s a straight road, I keep within the speed limit. Tigress can testify (so can the rest of you). Well, I enjoyed the privacy of the car with her- we can talk about personal matters freely while driving. We stopped by Swiss Club as I checked on my pals, before we had supper and headed home. Time flew when I was with her.

Okay, I just finished jogging and I am going to bath later. Anyway, remember the jogging babe I told you guys about the other day? Well, well, well, she lives two storeys below me- what a coincidence! However, I don’t believe in coincidence, only the illusion of coincidence (a quote from V). All along she was there, and I was searching high and low on www.wholivesnearyou.com for her (by the way, there are nine registered female on my block, and two of them sleeps in the room next to me- it shows it is a website for ugly girls and handsome guys). Maybe, I can pull a ‘Disturbia’ on her some time in the future. Just kidding- I am no stalker. That honour belongs to Ayu. Just for your information, I don’t need to stalk my targets- they usually walk right straight into my arms. Yatta!

Well, I am going driving around later, erm, to dry my hair (the benefit of free petrol). You know, there is this new Bricklands Road, that connects a part of KJE and Bukit Batok West Avenue 5? It is straight, with only one bend, and zero traffic lights. I enjoy stepping on the accelerator along this stretch of road, especially when there is no traffic at one in the morning (it isn’t the first time, and it definitely won’t be the last). I just wind down the window, feel the air in my hair and time seems to stop as the white markings on the road flash before my eyes. To quote a certain Dominic Toretto from ‘The Fast and the Furious’, “I live my life a quarter mile at a time. Nothing else matters: not the mortgage, not the store, not my team and all their bullshit. For those ten seconds or less, I'm free.”

It cannot be expressed any better.

Catch me if you can.

I have been thinking a lot these few days. But sorry to disappoint you, not everything in my head you can get to read. Not even my mum gets access- you get the idea. Everyone has his or her little secrets- including me.

So, first things first, I had lectures on Thursday. The usual disincentives neutralising the usual incentives (books and girls, respectively). Nothing much happened, just that this thought of asking this one girl for her number did momentarily, carelessly crossed my mind. Maybe the algebra was boring, maybe I didn’t sleep well the night before, or maybe I had knocked my head when I was dozing off minutes earlier, but whatever happened to me, I was sure I wasn’t thinking straight. To ask a girl out? I think I must be out of my mind. And no, it wasn’t the thought of getting rejected that put me off (actually quite the contrary- I am fairly confident of my own abilities), because honestly, it didn’t even get to reach that stage of thought. I mean, the next thing that came to mind was all the problems with girls that can and definitely will happen. Every relationship has its problems- including Britney and the walking human appendix K-Fed.

I just read an article in the papers that says that the cost of loving has gone up- and I cannot agree more. Nowadays, girls drive big cars (courtesy of either rich dads or sugar daddies) and have their own credit cards before they even get married. They no longer need us to support them financially, but rather, they yearn for us to be their pillars of strength. Well, it sounds undeniably cheaper, but not in any way simpler. I feel women nowadays just need men as an outlet to vent their anger (men usually take is out on their friends; as for me, I try to break some legs during soccer). Things like waking up at three in the morning to listen to them bitch about one of their colleagues, or to comfort them when one of their nails breaks. After studying sociology and economics for the past month, it is fair for me to say that it is neither sociologically nor economically advisable to get attached at our age. Then again, who would turn down the chance to date Maria Sharapova? Everything has its price- including my love (so make me an offer I cannot refuse).

Anyway, some friends are seriously selfish. I doubt whether I should label them ‘friends’ or ‘just someone I sit beside in lecture’. Frankly, I rather sit alone than with them. I know nobody’s perfect, and each and every friend has his or her flaws. But then again, there are just some flaws I am not willingly to accept. Everything has its limit- including my tolerance.

I have been out driving around Singapore again- no surprises. Well, Les, WJ and I met up for supper on Thursday night. Les was late- no surprises again. I mean, when I needed a ride from him, he was never on time; now that our roles are reversed, he is still late (seriously, there is no more patience in me left for him to test). I do not exactly look forward to driving and arriving on time, only to find people who have no concept of time late yet again. Therefore, our night got off on a bad note. We first had supper at Geylang before checking out the sights (it’s all a matter of your perspective, my brothers). Once again, I want to clarify- I do not need to pay for sex. Girls are queuing up for me (I cannot really speak for Les and WJ). Anyway, following that, we went to boat quay for a walk and ended the night at Bukit Timah with a cup of hot teh-tarik. I am surprised by the number of people out having supper (or breakfast) at four in the morning. Everyone seems rather energetic on a Friday morning- including me.

Last night, soccer was cancelled, so, I went back to Swiss Club to catch up with my friends. The place has changed so much. Now that I have quit, I cannot imagine myself working there again. It can only be a part of my past now- you know, like after you ditched an ex when things didn’t work out, then later, you realise what a great move that was. Well, this was kind of like how I felt. Anyway, I drove there, and those sons-of-bitches (who used to try their hardest to screw up my day) looked at me in a different light. Everything has its own uses- in my case, I am aware my dad’s car is no pussy-magnet (to quote my idol Borat), but I am very sure it gave those losers a memorable ‘don’t fuck with me again’ impression.

Anyway, I went to Orchard to pick up Ayu and his girl. And, I managed to be on time despite the best efforts of other road users (who simply could not get the term ‘give way’ into their thick skulls). There was this Ah Lian in her yellow Porsche Cayman S, who repeatedly refused to let my through. In case you didn’t know, the roads were packed in town last night. And with my P plates, everyone was having me for supper. But I felt I managed pretty well, in spite of Ayu’s endless grumbling (when he is not busy ‘entertaining’ his girl). In all honesty, I always knew I was in control of my vehicle. Already, I can picture in my mind him peeing in his pants when he finally starts to drive his own Bentley Continental (that’s his dream car, by the way). Everyone has his own style of driving- including my own ‘need-for-speed’ approach.