<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:23:50.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'>nyeh nyeh</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>35</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-112193893353372464</id><published>2005-07-21T02:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T02:42:13.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm leaving in a hot air balloon</title><content type='html'>I want to just leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I even need to pack up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so sick of doing these. I'm sick of getting upset time and time again. I'm tired of how people take turns to do the pro stuff to me. Unbelievably thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have enough upsetting without others doing it to me. I just want to be alone where nobody can ever play with my feelings, making it go up when they want to and just dump it when they like it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I even try so hard for all of you if you all don't even try for me. Why do I even try so hard to become the perfect daughter, the perfect sister and perfect gf when you all just make the same mistakes over and over again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God. Sometimes I REALLY HATE ALL OF YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There. I've said it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You all make me so fucked up crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry is so easy to say, so difficult to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's too easy to give away love and too difficult to even like a person. I can't think of a single person I truly like. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the expression nobody is perfect. That's true. But it doesn't hinder some people to keep trying isn't it? Its the effort you give, not what you already are that matters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it easy for me to just stop trying. I can be the total bitch who hangs out all night till the wee hours of the morning, drinking and clubbing with my multiple hot bfs. I don't have to work. I don't have to help out. I can just have fun. Its time that I tell everybody, Fuck I DO have other options. I can do better than put up with your bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate people. I'm moving to another planet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-112193893353372464?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/112193893353372464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=112193893353372464' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/112193893353372464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/112193893353372464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/07/im-leaving-in-hot-air-balloon.html' title='I&apos;m leaving in a hot air balloon'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-111893401958256304</id><published>2005-06-16T07:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T08:00:20.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate emo blogs</title><content type='html'>I also hate the fact that I'm obviously overworked (and underpaid if you take that factor into consideration). I hate the fact that I'm doing 2 1/2 people's job. One left and as for the other, well... bosses say she's too slow so I got to help her out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helloooo? I'm already doing 2 people's work alr. I rush through my work so quickly every single day that I only have time to breathe properly on the freaking toilet bowl. And I've to do half of someone's work who gets almost 1000 bucks more than me because "she's too slow and too inefficient and careless??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I DO enjoy my work. And I feel happy and honoured that people take notice and tell me they're confident that I can do it. But PLEASE. I'm no superman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have too much in my head these few days but do not have even have time to acknowledge the emotions that come along with it. Work stinks. Money stinks. shit. People always say chinese families see money as the thing that make them happy. That is wrong. Money allows chinese family to be satisfied enough to move onto the next square. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, these few days of rushing work made me forget anyway that I'm a female. Until today anyway. When I made a mistake at work (which kinda turned out to be a blessing in disguise) and hearing a thanks voice telling my boss "yeah last time when i saw it i also was wondering why its so low." not once but fucking twice. I was too worried and thinking of alternatives to get mad. But after the matter was resolved, I felt so angry! Fuck you. You took the ENTIRE DAY to do a thing I can complete in 2 hrs. You made me do half of your work for you every single day. What the fucking hell are u trying to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so angry that I am filled with self-pity that should have came a few days back. I feel so fucking mad that I do so much work for other people and when I screw up, some fucking person got to be that fucking FUCK  ( I must admit I can't think of what word to use over here). I feel so fucking mad that I can never save any money for myself ever and might never even get the money to get into uni. And I feel so fucking mad at the family storm that IS here and will be in full blown scale in a few months time. I wanted to call suf but I knew that if I did then I'll just be too overwhelmed by self-pity and start bawling like the poor kitten I was trying to steal from its mother for suf. So I rejected the chance to get some comfort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No fucking way anybody is going to catch me bawling in the office. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No fucking way I'm going to allow bimbos to get under my skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not that pro. But at least I know (unbashfully) that I'm the most pro asset in my company and I've learnt so much more in my 2 months over here than any 2 months of my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep. That makes me feel better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-111893401958256304?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/111893401958256304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=111893401958256304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111893401958256304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111893401958256304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/06/i-hate-emo-blogs.html' title='I hate emo blogs'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-111867136769905729</id><published>2005-06-13T06:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T07:02:47.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too pro!</title><content type='html'>I think men are the curse of my family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we finally think that all problems including financial problems are over, and I'm busy planning about what I should do with my riches, things just have to happen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I'll ever be rich. I can't even protect what should be mine. Maybe cos it wasn't mine in the first place. But this time round, i really wish that I get to have the chance to forgo what should have been for what should happen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yabba yabba doo da. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear SMU, please give me a school grant k? =( Fuck. I need to get that 1400/1600 more than ever now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-111867136769905729?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/111867136769905729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=111867136769905729' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111867136769905729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111867136769905729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/06/too-pro.html' title='Too pro!'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-111573617846393629</id><published>2005-05-10T07:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-10T07:42:58.470-07:00</updated><title type='text'>is it right to prove everybody wrong?</title><content type='html'>This have been bugging me for the past week. Something that I don't want to admit for quite some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm obsessed with proving everybody wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refuse to pick up any damn frying pan unless I'm straving and alone so that nobody can see me ever since my secondary school teacher told us that "when you all get married, you have to cook for your husband". I never studied and dropped out of JC 2 days before the promos because that's the only expectation my mom had for me at that time. Well, there's also the question of a broken promise about the school fees, but that's besides the point. I know I could have done well if I bothered to study. I didn't even study for my damn O levels AT ALL and well. I'm so obsessed about the way girls should behave that I go out all the way to be the total opposite. I'm so obsessed about that I should not become a good wife and a bad mom that I can almost swear to make my future husband's life a living hell. Everybody around me wants me to break in and become exactly like them in terms of religion, pop culture, character and habits and I even made myself stick out like a sore thumb (quite unfortunately). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This method have served me quite well I must admit. I have no role model - only role models of what NOT to be and I DID turn out quite decent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it is only recently that I realised that I tipped the scales too much. I am only concerned about proving others wrong that it becomes what I want, whether it is or not I really want. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hate to admit this especially when I'm still in the midst of proving people wrong. I have to retrace my steps on the path that I've fled to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-111573617846393629?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/111573617846393629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=111573617846393629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111573617846393629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111573617846393629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/05/is-it-right-to-prove-everybody-wrong.html' title='is it right to prove everybody wrong?'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-111539526551792484</id><published>2005-05-06T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-06T09:01:05.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bah....</title><content type='html'>it seems that i'm in a bad mood everyday.&lt;br /&gt;the only difference is how long it last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i made a promise to myself that i will not be pissed off anymore after working hours.&lt;br /&gt;and i plan to keep to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;people are fucking selfish.&lt;br /&gt;they make others feel damn horrible inside to feel good abt themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they blame you even though u want to do things but let off others who made you do whatever you did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they think that their own social status is so much higher than you cos they have a bloody slang and millions of guy hounds after them. and make sure u don't forget that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hey.. say whatever you want. as long as its after office hours, "amanda being pissed off" is off duty. and i'll try to. no matter how "DUH" or stupid their actions or behaviours are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no matter what you do (nice or mean actions), you'll become the bad guy. So i'll just answer to myself. i have already done something nice. and you have done nothing back. so don't blame me anymore. btw, that sentence is meant for me. people can bitch all they want to each other and when it reaches my ears by somebody whom told me not to me nice to them and yet is treated with much more prestige, all i can say is THANKS YOU GODDAMN FUCKERS. That was what i said during office hours. Now is the night. Time to relax, chill and tell those fucking heads to kiss my fucking ass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first time i truly want to confront some people. Confront them cos my conscience is clear but i can't because "i'm not supposed to know and they'll know". Fuck everything. I take back my words that knocking their heads is too light a punishment that i must knock their heads against the corners. They deserve to be slashed. Slashed with metal hooks and hung like pork. Yeah i said it. HUNG LIKE PORK YOU GODDAMN RACIST ANTI CHINESE FREAKS. i'll be the bad guy. Just like how i am to everybody anyway. Nobody will notice the difference. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAH TO THE FUCKERS.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-111539526551792484?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/111539526551792484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=111539526551792484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111539526551792484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111539526551792484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/05/bah.html' title='bah....'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-111150988549272205</id><published>2005-03-22T08:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T08:44:45.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gollum Rules</title><content type='html'>fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;i feel fucked up&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;你好&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;how come?&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;i can't read tat la..&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;just too fucked up la&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;now i'm not supposed to accept a job cos i might need to go malaysia&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;and my family tinks i'll get killed over there during my errands&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;what is errands?&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;those minor trips to get goods and stuff&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;go to work lah&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;i feel so damn fucked up&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;i am not allowed to travel&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;i dun even have a fucking passport&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;they hate my malay bf&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;i can't get a fucking job&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;for what?&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;just fuck la&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;just CANNOT &lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;why not allowed?&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;cannot this cannot tat&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;not allowed to travel?&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;who are they&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;family la&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;everything i do is damn wrong&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;then go and work la&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;i want to!&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;but now they dun let me to!&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;then do what?&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;i dunno&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;probably want me to be like my mom and sis&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;stay home all day watch tv from morning till night&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;fuck la&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;i dun want to be like tat faipang!&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;getting a job really means alot to me &lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;i have been so restricted tat i really want myself to be independent for something&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;there's not enough money in the family&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;after you graduate first then find job&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;easy solution get a job&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;and now cannot&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;yea i got job offer alr&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;but they dun want&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;they want those broing 8 to 5 job &lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;stable low pay boring shit&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;i dun want to be like them&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;all day hate their jobs&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;just go ahead and work lah&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;dont care abt then&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;them&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;ya easy to say dun care right&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;depends on yourself&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;then how&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;move out?&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;haha..&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;see you wanna dash through or not&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;you need not move out&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;just carry on&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;they wont chase you out of the house&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;but i dunno how long i can last..&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;all these disapproving arguments &lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;bf, work la..&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;stop the  arugent&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;i dun argue man&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;i give up alr&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;then dont care&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;for the bf shit la&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;break through&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;just do&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;coz your family is too traditional&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;hehe&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;y u sound so girly today&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;and sound so nike-ish&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;coz hehe typed in chinese is 呵呵&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;ee u sound gay &lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;luckily i found tat website for u&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;remember to join&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;for you&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;trans&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;haha&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;ya good website&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;i'm recommending to everybody&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;how was the exam&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;difficult&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;34 marks past&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;wtf&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;i could only understand half the paper&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;wah lau... &lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;so did u pass or fail man&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;i dont know yet&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;when will u know?&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;i dont know also&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;(J)&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;if study now then can subsidy right&lt;br /&gt;fuck everything says:&lt;br /&gt;v good chance&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;mother subsidy&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;haha&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;hahaha&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;luckily u nv go back hk&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;hhaha&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;stay here god&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;good&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;no&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;nonononono!&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;GOODGOODGOODGOODGOOD!&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;:):):)&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;(J)&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;fp.. i left my keys in the sch office also..&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;if my parents find out, i'll be dead again..&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;tmr go and take&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;:(&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;but i dunno if the offices will be open tmr&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;cos dun tink the pple holding onto the keys will be going to sch..&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;then i'll be further screwed&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;i'm really an asshole right :(&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;nvm lah&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;do another set&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;nvm one&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;:( u dun understand my parents&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;i also tink nv mind&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;but they will think its a damn big deal and start screaming &lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;keep quiet frist&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;try to get it back first&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;:(&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;i tink tmr morning wake up super early.. then faster dumplicate a set of keys&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;then come home before they wake up and replace&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;u tink can?&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;v scary&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;:(&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;yesyes&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;master&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;yes&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;stole the precious from them&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;before the fat hobbit awakes&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;:D&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;bring them to shelob!&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;no&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;bring them to sauruman&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;cannot.. then the precious won't be theirs anymore&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;yesyes&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;(J)&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;:(&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;lets go out now&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;i need to be cheered up&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;cheer up!&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;cheer up now&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;faster!!&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;UPUPUPUPUPUP AND AWAY!&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;yes&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;yes&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;master&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;go and away and never back back&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;go and away and never come back&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;then the eagle will come &lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;and pick u back&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;you&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;pick you back&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;hahaha &lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;then u can be the eagle&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;or gandalf&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;depends if u want to be a bird or an ugly old man&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;o wait..&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;depends if u want to be a bird or an ugly gay man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;plus old &lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;i want to be the urak kai&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;ya can also&lt;br /&gt;gollum rules says:&lt;br /&gt;u look the part&lt;br /&gt;Gollum says:&lt;br /&gt;yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt; :( miss u fp.. i've forgotten the way u cheer me up.. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-111150988549272205?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/111150988549272205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=111150988549272205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111150988549272205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111150988549272205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/03/gollum-rules.html' title='Gollum Rules'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-111107765901447820</id><published>2005-03-17T08:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-17T08:46:24.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shrug and turn away</title><content type='html'>sometimes u feel as if u're struggling to be heard, but all fails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you seem to have lost what was promised to you and got in return a delayed promise and now it seems that the second promise have got to be broken again too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a standard beyond "thanks".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in times when it is hip to say how cruel fate has been to you (especially when it is getting what you deserve), i refuse to conform.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i would have to face what is doled out to me and count them carefully. i'll get through somehow. i never want to struggle with bills again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i doubt that anybody can help to build my world. so its time i get forced to take centre stage for every aspect of my life now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Democracy - a state of majority rule. If i judge from that, i probably would have been elected unfit to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;graduation wish? (just for the sake of having an opportunity to wish) - never give in to despair or lies that i'm not good enough. Never Ever Again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-111107765901447820?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/111107765901447820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=111107765901447820' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111107765901447820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111107765901447820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/03/shrug-and-turn-away.html' title='Shrug and turn away'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-111063818498913882</id><published>2005-03-12T06:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-12T06:40:46.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Angels and Demons</title><content type='html'>Everybody have their period of lows. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The time when you feel shitty over everything and feel that you're lousy in everything. Well, even when you know you might not be as bad as others in some aspects, you just feel like shit. I'm going to sit here and think of the plus points i have:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) i can climb.&lt;br /&gt;2) i can do creatives.&lt;br /&gt;3) ???&lt;br /&gt;4) ???&lt;br /&gt;5) ???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, i'm supposed to feel comforted by the fact that i can swing like a monkey and do creatives which can be mocked by "chen and pro friends".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, i can't take nice pics, i'm not creative, blah. I can't even get a fair chance of presenting the project that i painfully (well.. REALLY PAINSTAKINGLY at least) did the creatives and programmes... BRRR! But that's a story for next time which i dun want to talk about. Not worth my energy to rave abt how our efforts just get dismissed as easily as a wave of the hand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not good in whatever suf's good at either. audio, technical stuff blah blah, down to remembering names and directions. BUT i'm not interested in remembering all those boring details anyway so hahahaha! YAY tat doesn't make me feel so bad cos I dun want to be good in those aspects either. HAHAHA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.. this entry is starting to make me feel better after a long spell. Thats good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how can a friend likes her friend's bf, confesses to him (although she also has a bf) and manages to make the gf that guy feel bad. I really wonder how it is like to have that type of life. Got everything on your lap that everybody will give you everything you want because you can never be wrong. I know that I shouldn't be envious of this type of people, but well... you'll just wonder how it feels like to just have EVERYTHING, you get what i mean... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If i manage to exchange souls with another person, i'll still be envious of what my old self. Which simply means, i can never stop envying other people. Ha! See what the society and media has taught us! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Everybody has a demon and angel within our soul. We just cannot communicate with them. But one day you manages to see and communicate with your demon and he loves you very much and yearns for your love, attention and affection. He makes you laugh through his transformation and jokes, he'll always have his hand on yours whenever you feel afraid. Your affection starts to grow for it... and you begin to call him "my guardian angel". It is exciting to have an invisible friend that nobody sees and you feel happy to be loved. The only problems are that he always guards you with a strong jealousy of other people around you and in your heart, you know that he feels inadequate that he always need to take on another image so as not to scare you with his true form. You do love him. He's so familiar to you. He's a part of you. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-111063818498913882?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/111063818498913882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=111063818498913882' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111063818498913882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111063818498913882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/03/angels-and-demons.html' title='Angels and Demons'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-111038310692943241</id><published>2005-03-09T07:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T07:45:06.930-08:00</updated><title type='text'>bah</title><content type='html'>The period where everything seems to go wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bah bah bah bah bah bah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;choking inside but it doesn't want to come out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;go away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-111038310692943241?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/111038310692943241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=111038310692943241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111038310692943241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/111038310692943241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/03/bah.html' title='bah'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110942554515231813</id><published>2005-02-26T05:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-26T05:45:45.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'>you're broke? fuck you.</title><content type='html'>i need money. badly. fucking badly.&lt;br /&gt;i've used up the money to pay the bills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if somebody offer me 100 bucks to clean up their house, i swear i will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's no use getting so angry about it but i'm just fucking am. i want to earn MY own money and pay MY own bills. fuck. and shut up about which fucking sch in watever fucking country you're going to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm just too fucked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need money. and to disappear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110942554515231813?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110942554515231813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110942554515231813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110942554515231813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110942554515231813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/02/youre-broke-fuck-you.html' title='you&apos;re broke? fuck you.'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110873995280847256</id><published>2005-02-18T07:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-18T07:19:12.810-08:00</updated><title type='text'>casettes</title><content type='html'>I'm testing the tapes I'll be bringing to the home tomorrow. Sigh... they bring back such lovely memories and I am getting reluctant to give them away. I've saved up (or begged) terribly for them when I was a kid. These tapes were the thing I looked forward to everytime I go home from school (or rather 7-11 because I stayed there till 3.30pm after school time). Now I know why I have China accent. I hated reading Chinese books so the only way to interest me was by Chinese cassette tapes. Haha! Mystery Solved!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: I'm very very reluctant to give away Pete's Dragon... I used to tear at the Pete the magic Dragon song because it was so sad how Pete neglected him as he grew up. That bastard...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110873995280847256?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110873995280847256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110873995280847256' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110873995280847256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110873995280847256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/02/casettes.html' title='casettes'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110814229865637370</id><published>2005-02-11T09:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-11T09:18:18.656-08:00</updated><title type='text'>logic</title><content type='html'>i'm filled with logic. i know i will have no control over myself if i find myself in some situations, so all the more i force myself to have iron control to not to start them. my control is my logic and to guard emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel sick. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my logic, my protector made me forget the basics of life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dun want to be superior.. i dun want to accept your ideals. it can't be accepted can't you see? why is it accepted as the norm?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my frens.. but sometimes they make me sick.. my head spins and i want to vomit whatever they said out. out. out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;i don't know where i belong. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110814229865637370?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110814229865637370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110814229865637370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110814229865637370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110814229865637370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/02/logic.html' title='logic'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110805469944533109</id><published>2005-02-10T08:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-10T09:05:51.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'>playing roles</title><content type='html'>I don't want to be a wife but i want kids. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe i can get married but live seperately with the kids in tow. but of course my husband is welcome to pop by anytime to visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think i can be a good wife but i don't want to be for that matter. Maybe there is really some people not meant to be married and i fall in that category. And it's scary how other people want to get hitched and be housewives... Living with somebody isn't that easy at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I buy a house and troop down to the sperm bank maybe 7 years down the road?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: anyway sal, after re-reading my posts, i realised that i was thinking more abt "the rest of the pack" being my guy friends at school. but keeping in mind tat this misunderstanding (on ur part of cos) wouldn't have risen if u didn't read my blog, it's too bad. so DUN READ MY BLOG.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110805469944533109?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110805469944533109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110805469944533109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110805469944533109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110805469944533109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/02/playing-roles.html' title='playing roles'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110796987363493117</id><published>2005-02-09T09:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-09T09:26:14.660-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who do I love?</title><content type='html'>mmm.. I love friends whom I don't meet that often. I might not even talk much to them, nor be physical around them but I DO miss them and is contented enough to enjoy their company once in awhile. Makes me =( to know that others want me to be around them all day but I don't miss them. =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but anyway, I had a very good day. Nyeh, i'm proud of you! Ah... looks like u're putting a face to malay-ism. yay. I adore XL. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha i dun understand why do people mock others non-stop abt sensitive issues. Mocking is funny; crossing the line isn't funny at all. Knowing that you've crossed the line and being unable to admit it is just mm.. weak. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lalala. O well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be a guy. If i'm a guy, i can be as bastardy as i want but i'll be excused cos i'm a "man". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*monkey applause*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wahhh i think this blog is getting sexist. I should hold a feminist rally. Too bad i'm attached cos it might come across as ironic. =) ai ai ai. Sigh... what can I accomplish if i am single?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dun worry nyeh. I won't be anti-men cos you are a normal male. Just that the rest of the pack are all weirdos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thanks to monique's aunt who sponsored my movie! =)=)=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a crybaby. *sob* I wonder how can anyone stop tears. Mine doesn't come with a stopper. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110796987363493117?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110796987363493117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110796987363493117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110796987363493117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110796987363493117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/02/who-do-i-love.html' title='Who do I love?'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110700235167767890</id><published>2005-01-29T04:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-29T04:39:11.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Pang - amphibian. says:&lt;br /&gt;ahhahaha problems?&lt;br /&gt;u have no right to demand anything from me says:&lt;br /&gt;haha nothing i can't deal with  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My art is weakening. I can tell from the glances that others see something but is puzzled by what they see. I wonder what they see... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mask can't last forever and I wonder why it's crumbling at this time when I've survived everything. I survived when people cut themselves, hurt themselves, start smoking, start taking drugs, start sleeping around, start taking pills... Its just like trying to "heal" depression by giving medication. You are faced with emotions and sensations that you have to give ur entire attention to fight so that you get distracted from the present. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I am as good as, if not better than you. I know this so don't try to fucking make me believe a lie. Don't lecture me how to be me if you are such a failure of being a human being. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guys are such idiots. I had a nice dinner with the meanies. Quite good except that they are still at the stage of playing mind games. I wonder why guys love them and I wonder why alex haven't grown out of them. Keep talking about porn and hot girls infront of dav. And it is upsetting to see dav when he turns away. So we began talking about Jude Law and yep I did my best to help dav get back at him. Fuck those guys. Want to talk about these type of things infront of their friends and even infront of their gfs. I wanted to twist his fucking neck and apologise to dav as well as swear never to do it again. Well, it's also dav for accepting that and not telling him how she feels anyway. She says "Well all guys do that amanda". My fucking ass. Then ask them to fuck each others' asses since they are such fucking horny bastards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met Ghim Khoon on the bus. It was such a coincidence that I was thinking about them guys this morning. He kept complaining that Faipang is neurotic. O well welcome to eminem. Then we continued talking about Jinsheng. He's still with his gf of cos... for 4 or 5 years alr! Sigh.. still remember y I liked him... He didn't even look at girls when he's with the guys cos he was so in love with his gf even after so many years! Always say his gf better. Such a great guy... And I guess I liked him cos of his devotion ironically. But Ghimz said they are having some problems so might not last too. =( O well... but he invited me to watch them play soccer on Sundays! YAY! Hopefully I can drag faipang away from his computer long enough to go with me... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110700235167767890?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110700235167767890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110700235167767890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110700235167767890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110700235167767890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/01/pang-amphibian.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110698919043138660</id><published>2005-01-29T01:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-29T00:59:50.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wasted</title><content type='html'>I want to get wasted. But I hate drinking. Something stronger. Cocaine? Morphine? Heroine would be good. Then I'll get sent fucking far away. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110698919043138660?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110698919043138660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110698919043138660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110698919043138660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110698919043138660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/01/wasted.html' title='Wasted'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110683455006830799</id><published>2005-01-27T05:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-27T06:02:30.066-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr</title><content type='html'>I feel sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nyeh says:&lt;br /&gt;haha.. .isn't it so sad..&lt;br /&gt;nyeh says:&lt;br /&gt;tat we love him for the entire package he is, and he loves other pple who loves him for who he should be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can be more important than people loving you as you are? Why are people always obssessed with others respecting them? Reh showed me the first shock she is kinda "better" because people respect her while people show me affection. I don't want respect. Of course I wouldn't mind but I would much much prefer affection and love and care over fooking respect. You want respect and it slips through your fingers like butter. You earn it dammit. Earn it through your actions and sincerity not fooking how you can demand repect by the way you act and the way you dress. Just be who you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's just the way it is... and people are attracted to people whom they know they can never really get their attention and affection from because of the challenge that it represents. Haha.. thus concludes my 5 year crush. It is the same with relatioships - friendship and what's not... and you cannot run away from the cycle. You can only grow out of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mass comm make people change huh? O well at least I grow more bastardy and bitchy. This is excusable because I realise that I lag too much in these aspects. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hell. I'm being exposed to more bitchy and immature things in mass comm than in my bitchy secondary girls' school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel so mad when people toss the hair into your direction. Really so bitchy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to send my daughter to a girls' school. And NEVER to NP Mass Comm. &lt;br /&gt;And I'm going to train my son to look down on bitchy girls and be bastards to them. And may he mock them till they cry their eyes out, hate him like hell and leave him alone. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;get your claws far away from him!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110683455006830799?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110683455006830799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110683455006830799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110683455006830799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110683455006830799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/01/grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.html' title='Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110649113833682457</id><published>2005-01-23T06:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-23T06:50:09.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>fuck the patriarch!!!</title><content type='html'>As usual our symc meeting was about the disgusting topics once more and I brought up my thinking of lesbianism and gayism to cindy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: When I'm old and rich, i'm going to pay gigaloos to touch each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cindy: I don't want them to touch each other. I want to see guys FUCK each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She declared it so seriously, loudly and lecherously that everybody in the room froze and stared at her. Hey... see. Even though she liked girls before, she still want to see two manly men fuck eaech other. Damn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave the males to their fantasies and leave the females to theirs. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I get older, the sympathy for the males grow. Well, they are alright as friends I guess, just not as partners. Not to mention that as time goes by, I find out that guys can be quite pathetic and inferior compared to females. Their "joys" in life are truly laughable and quite entertainable to some extent. Indeed their status is diminishing but they wouldn't realise it. Their main goals are to get a job and find a gf/wife and fuck other girls. But they unconsciously are worried about their job situation, hen-pecked and yet want to lust after things to satisfy their ego. Indeed it is entertaining to see how their life is ruled by lustful and power desires but can never attain it because of fear. Love has become a lie to replace the truth of fear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the guys went on about girls, I felt so sorry for their gfs. It is no wonder that reh priya and others always just say that it's too bad cos their gfs can't satisfy their bfs. Because it is exactly how I feel towards them now. Even alex. Now you know  how the others feel towards us right suf? But I don't care. Call it get back or whatever. Gfs will become more open to others about they guys they find hot and want to fuck in however a manner that they want. If people can think that it's alright for a guy to do that, then they better get used to women doing that especially since they are not making these up but just being honest about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha someday when girls stop fussing around with their hair or face, the patriarch will be taken over. Right now, I can see that the patriarch seems to be in place, but the matriarch is is the power behind the screens. And that is entertaining indeed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I will continue to watch the stage and applaude when the curtains fall. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110649113833682457?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110649113833682457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110649113833682457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110649113833682457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110649113833682457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/01/fuck-patriarch.html' title='fuck the patriarch!!!'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110629166791005153</id><published>2005-01-20T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-20T23:14:27.910-08:00</updated><title type='text'>passion of christ</title><content type='html'>sometimes i want to ask god why have you forsaken us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i realise that is unfair so i'll shut up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to live like the hobbits... no government, big families, generous neighbours, plenty of food to eat, happy-go-lucky, have beautiful parties, reach adulthood only in thirties and die of a ripe-old age surrounded with ur great grand children. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110629166791005153?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110629166791005153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110629166791005153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110629166791005153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110629166791005153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/01/passion-of-christ.html' title='passion of christ'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110623910110359393</id><published>2005-01-20T08:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-20T08:38:21.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sex in the pig sty</title><content type='html'>I dun feel that good ever since I reaised my head from my LOTR book in the MRT... Actually I still feel hungry... sigh.. I'm a pig. Although I feel like puking, I am thinking about eating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to chen's place for symc was a waste of time as usual. We gossiped, laughed at each other and eventually the others ended up playing strip poker. I always thought that they were "normal" chinese. Haha! The kiasu and must chiong for everything type of chinese. Well, they are that actually but as time goes by, I have developed a kind of respect for them. Although they keep talking about sex and wanking (how do they do it while shitting is beyond me), and one would expect them to be great admirers of lesbianism, they don't. I mean I know lots of guys out there (nyeh you know who u are) who keeps condemning gays but think lesbianism are okay (cos it's nice to watch or imagine) I guess. But I know why they think like this... and it is quite touching to know that it's kinda as a support for their friend. And they keep reminding her that it's not worth it to be a les. No matter what other people say, I think it is really really sweet and loyal of them to have this reminders as well as developing these mindsets from their friend's experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But like what nyeh says lesbianism is only nice when both of them are girly girls, not with a butch and a girly girl. But sadly enough, the basis of relationships is that one SHOULD be more masculine and one more feminine. So usually lesbian relationships are about a butch and a girly girl, and gay relationships are about a feminine male and a more dominant male. Shai would be so mad if one would even suggest that he is less dominant male in the relationship. Mmm... but here comes the shocking part - girls like looking at gays too! Haha! Not that ah gua gays, but it IS a turn-on for girls to see 2 manly guys pawing at each other the way guys like to see 2 feminine females touching each other. Hahaha! I guess it's cos it is really considered WRONG thinking in relationship (which is one feminine, one masculine) that makes all these gays and lesbians so appealing huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awwww. And dun worry. Although I must admit that girl partners usually make better relationship partners cos they understand girls better (duh), I have spent enough years in a girls school to know that I have zero appeal to them. =( Sigh... Hey anyway that reminds me... I kinda thought this butch who was a friend of my friend's, is quite cool and attractive. HAHAHAHAHHHA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, I was invited to pulau ubin by chen and gang!! AH!! I can't wait! So exciting to go there! Next friday better come soon! And why does everybody think I can't cycle??!!! Pls lo! I have been a pro since 4 years old! Grrrr and I won't make a fool of myself like leonard who rolled down the hill with his bike. HA! =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110623910110359393?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110623910110359393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110623910110359393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110623910110359393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110623910110359393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/01/sex-in-pig-sty.html' title='sex in the pig sty'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110606487870482594</id><published>2005-01-18T08:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-18T08:14:38.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'>rich words</title><content type='html'>My mom just walked in and asked me if i'm serious about working after poly. Yep I insisted that I was. So how long do I plan to work before studying? 1 or 2 years. Okay I'll try to prepare the money after 2 years... but actually... it will only come in after about 4 years...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha it really rules. I'm not irritated because I dun get to study. I am irritated because nobody wanted to tell me all these. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I can't, I can't. Simple as that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O well at least it's final now. Looking at my sis gives me the creeps though... she's having such a tough time getting a job. O well worrying isn't going to help much with this situation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say people change cos of money. I say I changed cos of sonic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha! In a way... it's really true. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a person like me, listening to mp3 on my lousy phone is like heaven and I never forget how grateful I am for it whenever I listen to it. As for sonic, a game-deprieved person would gain a lot from it... weirdly enough the ability to be willing to make mistakes. Hahaha.. everybody won't get it but I do. And I am thankful for all these I have now.=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And nyeh, thanks for waiting =) dun wait anymore in the future k? &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110606487870482594?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110606487870482594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110606487870482594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110606487870482594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110606487870482594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/01/rich-words.html' title='rich words'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110588618923777510</id><published>2005-01-16T06:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-16T06:36:29.236-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>yep. i'm supposed to be studying now but o well, i'll do anything to escape that for the time being. I hate computer animation. suf why on earth did u want to take it man?? You better do the thing bfs do during tests ;) Hee! I just msged nicole "by the way remember there's a test tmr so dun party too much cos i'm counting on you. it is indeed an honour to sit next to you tmr my friend". Yep. Wasting all these time doing idiotic stuff when I should be looking at the powerpoint huh? Well... I can't find a decent scrap of paper to write down the notes... that's a good enough explaination huh? =) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay so enough of sounding like a bimbo. I should address the matters of importance such as stalkers. Sal, if you're reading this, go away! You were supposed to out-grow reading my blog long ago. Go write more entries on your own blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeppy yeppy. And I think the paranoia in my family is finally catching up on me. Honestly the future does look very bleak suddenly. All my sister's fault... I was planning to wait for the boat and get on it when it comes. Oh well, there's not much use for worrying is it. I worry too much alr. The underlying procedures unsettles me but what come will come isn't it... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am starting to sound whiny. Who cares. Everybody complains that my voice is whiny anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esp Chen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And guys who wear make up are gay. And that includes concealers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And guys who read magazines such as FHM and calls the girls sluts are.... mm.. fuckers. Literally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YEAHHHHH and it's time to find a clean sheet of paper. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110588618923777510?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110588618923777510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110588618923777510' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110588618923777510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110588618923777510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/01/yep.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110572649509831767</id><published>2005-01-14T09:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-14T10:14:55.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Everybody is obsessed in pain. But do they know what it pain? Sometimes I get so angry with them... angry till I feel the pressure pounding within me and my head throbbing as if it's going to burst. Self-inflicted pain is so bloody pathetic. Just because they have a perfectly alright life with almost everything complete, it's not cool or good enough to just bask in their happiness. They have to be emo, sad and inflict unhappiness on themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I just want to shout at them. You want pain? Do you know what is pain? Do you know how it is like to build up a wall of numbness around your heart and have to behave all robotic infront of the people you should love most? Do you know the slow hardening process you have to go through to hear and not hear, to see but not see because otherwise you will never survive sanity. Do you know how much you brace yourself against all emotions scene after scene and after you pride yourself on managing it, and eventually get into a situation which depends on your decorum, you take a look at the person and your steel face crumbles although you are trying all of your might not to, and you start brawling like a baby infront of everyone. From this I've learnt not to look in the faces... fucking hurts too much and a reminder of my weakness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But likewise, I wouldn't know how it is like to see my family swept past me in a tsunami or the guilt that would hang around my head if I lost grip of a loved one. So I wouldn't know their pain too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I will ever forget. I don't want to forget either. I'm too desperate to not give myself pain.. too desperate to be happy.. too desperate not to turn out like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe sometimes too desperate. I do have thoughts that being alone will be more stablising for me but o well sometimes things just turn out the way they do for the best. Maybe this is the best for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to think of people thinking pain is about superficial stuff. I really want to snort and show them my middle finger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep. And to end it all by the infamous quote,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you and your selfish dreams. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110572649509831767?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110572649509831767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110572649509831767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110572649509831767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110572649509831767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2005/01/everybody-is-obsessed-in-pain.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110450576522794013</id><published>2004-12-31T06:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-31T07:09:25.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just a few hours ago I was having a heated debate.After a few minutes of watching clips, I've developed another thinking. I don't believe that anybody can watch the tsunami clips and still believe there is no god. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are still some things I don't agree with in the different religions. But god is like a dictator (well.. not like the dictators we know but still sets the laws and stuff) and even if I don't agree with it or like it, he's the one in power. His words (well.. we nv know for sure till we die) are law. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many people may not agree with capital punishment, but if the state says there will be, then there will be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many people are angered by children dying, but if god says so, then it will be so like what happened in the tsunamis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know what I believe in now.. except in god and his unquestionable power. But I don't understand so many things.. things that I can't fully put my trust in until I try to understand. Only that one shouldn't try to argue with god. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite a confused state huh. Maybe I should have a Q and A with god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the fear of death will be gone if one is willing to challenge death by knowing you can't control it and stop clutching tightly to life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110450576522794013?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110450576522794013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110450576522794013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110450576522794013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110450576522794013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2004/12/just-few-hours-ago-i-was-having-heated.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110443137912830163</id><published>2004-12-30T10:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-30T10:29:39.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>when u get down and start feeling all emo,&lt;br /&gt;ask yourself who am i&lt;br /&gt;and if you can answer that,&lt;br /&gt;then it's alright.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110443137912830163?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110443137912830163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110443137912830163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110443137912830163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110443137912830163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2004/12/when-u-get-down-and-start-feeling-all.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110442714248454081</id><published>2004-12-30T08:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-12-30T09:19:02.483-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>black is white and white is black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;baabaa baa baa~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats the truth the world wants to believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Snowball. He should have just lost himself and became like others. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha at least I know who are my true good friends - those who are frank and tell me straight in the face when I'm wrong. No wonder I don't feel that I'm a true good friend to other people although I listen to them... It's cos I don't tell them the cold hard truth - they'll kill me if I do. But it's good to be frank to other people! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sorceror stone is pure.. whatever other elements added to it will melt away when it's tested by fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to say u're superior is already degrading yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and yes. the first will be the last and the last will be the first. i have always believed that. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110442714248454081?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110442714248454081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110442714248454081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110442714248454081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110442714248454081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2004/12/black-is-white-and-white-is-black.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110122563882359457</id><published>2004-11-23T23:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-23T08:29:48.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I keep glancing at the clock every few minutes. One would never guess 24hrs take so long to pass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm writing a blog entry, in hope to get rid of a few more minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my mind is a blank now. What can I say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BZ asks me to "tahan" a few days. And I replied ya that's what I mean by good husbands does not mean good bfs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her once upon a time I thought that whenever prince charming comes along, the princess will be rescued from her circumstances and be brought far far away from the land of troubles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However after getting into a relationship, any hope of happening in these times? Fat hope. Fend for yourself dude because prince charming is locked up at home. Use the phone to talk instead. If there's no phone, then too bad buster.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Priya always says she fights battles. How would she like to fight a battle already lost?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.. feel so tired of everything.. just looking at the clock ticking.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent half an hour on this blog, half of the time spent on just staring at the screen. tick.tick. Plaster on that smile. Good. Back to comforting people again. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110122563882359457?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110122563882359457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110122563882359457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110122563882359457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110122563882359457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2004/11/i-keep-glancing-at-clock-every-few.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110114564479984397</id><published>2004-11-22T09:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-22T09:47:24.800-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>That 70s show shit the jackpot when they had the episode on how women just want to be heard. Otherwise they turn out like me. Everything's all jumbled and squashed now inside my head and my sanity is on the verge of breaking. I wish I could just spit it out... scream it out and get it out of my system and yet I wonder why I can continue smiling with that mask. Even if I speak of something that matters, people think it's only a joke. I want to explode. I want to hit out and scream  and scream and scream. And yet I still have that smile silently while they keep on piling inside. Another reason not to have a long distance relationship - the inability to communicate. Not seeing and knowing what's been happening. What's the point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck NP. Fuck everybody. Fuck everything. Fuck every single one of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the fucking point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110114564479984397?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110114564479984397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110114564479984397' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110114564479984397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110114564479984397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2004/11/that-70s-show-shit-jackpot-when-they.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110096863332742660</id><published>2004-11-20T08:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-20T08:38:43.736-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yep. I feel emo again. Faipang's trying to cheer me up but unsurprisingly it's not much of a help with him singing stupid NS songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's kinda hard when ur best friend goes overseas for a long long time. So many things to say but nobody to say it to. Just need somebody to dump it onto and then move along move along. I wonder how I did it in the past.. Haha maybe that's why I know I'll never survive a long distance relationship. When you know that your partner's miles away and not going to call you for a long long time, there's this empty feeling and you just want to move along move along. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was young, anything associated with cantonese is banned and chinese is discouraged especially those taiwanese shows. Now, the chinese language is also considered taboo and banned from usage. No wonder I turned out such a freak in a household which dons George Bush on the kitchen wall as a medal of honour. What's coming up next? Compulsary military march across the wall of the dictator and pray for him. Hail the dictator. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost everything seems to be going wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fda;lkjf;ioejr;iaoe jfd mcufneayhureamdiujrfaoiejxm,amxpueworiauermoeauraoiewuroiawumx ouieaoruaoierumaoiuoiueroiuaioruaeowrioeauroiawueroiauwx oamii uiearaix muiarepruaoipumaue,waiurmieouroiaeurmoi vntuoiaiotp mn983u9m 983aiourfoipa flkaejwmoricuawlufcueaoifudouvoiadufo;ajcvlk;djflajfokajf;jdfnv48utraoi;w mep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR&lt;br /&gt;RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110096863332742660?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110096863332742660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110096863332742660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110096863332742660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110096863332742660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2004/11/yep.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110051811867654565</id><published>2004-11-15T02:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-15T03:28:38.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So i've survived. Haha to be honest, it wasn't as bad as what I've expected. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was some unpleasantness about the lateness when me and bz got there but trusty old bz can be depended on to counter any thing of that sort. I wonder what the big fuss was about anyway. They were so busy admiring the indian guys who were already there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the first thing reh did as a greeting was to pack me off to the circle of her brother's friends and made me say hello to fizal whom she had wanted to matchmake me with in the past. Haha that was until her brother and fizal saw me with suf (a long way back) and thought that I was attached (though I wasn't then ;) ) Quite funny actually because all of the friends were staring at me and I was staring quite embarrassing back at them until Priya dragged me off to another corner and asked me for my opinion about the cute guy sitting on the couch (who had apparently caught her staring and pointing at him 5 times alr) who saw her pointing again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So clara dropped the bombshell on us again. She was happily unloading the new tabloid affairs about her sad sad life again. I couldn't help my jaw from dropping and after a stunned minute of seeing her delighted face from my reaction, I realised that I had to clear clear clear all expressions. I practically pushed my jaw shut and turned to the other direction and gave reh and her friends a full scowl in the face while she rattled on. And I still wonder why I'm upset. I should be used to it alr. I wonder how long more it'll take for me to scream in her face infront of everybody. BZ was better. When clara turned her happy glowing face to announce the sad sad sad news, she laughed outright. O yep. And yet that must be what clara wants anyway because she dived right into the story while I secretly eavesdropped as I had ignored her earlier on. Wait. Eavesdrop is not the proper word. She was conversing so loudly, I think all of reh's friends and the people waiting for the bus heard or would have heard if they were not talking among themselves. I was thinking whether I should send her a slamming pro email. Anyway I don't care if she gets angry with me. But o well what's the use. She'll probably keep it and send everybody to show them what a sad sad sad life she has and even other people is blaming her for the sad sad sad life she has and so isn't she such a sad sad sad person?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've done some thinking on the way. There were some incidences along the way that strengthened the thought that friends are supposed to accept you as you are. Friends know personal things about yourself and thus, it's so easy for them to catch hold of your archille's heel and do some serious stabbing of their own. Why would you want to be so close to a person who makes you insecure about yourself and the people around you? Or perhaps the blame can be shared - if one is already secure, why bother about the things people say? Haha but I just wonder why it happens so often with the same group of people. So that's too pro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought we would be teaching kids (teenagers) to play sims 2 that day. O boy. Whoever would have thought that kids meant 5 to 12 years old. These infriating brats are so rich, they have all these expensive handphones hanging around their necks and occasionally picking up calls and sms-ing. Or they'll start whining to their mothers that they want to buy the game. They want to buy the game! And the replies will be but you already bought halo 2 last week! Excuse me miss. How much does the game cost?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you think the competitors for the games speed underground and fifa 2005 are teenagers, o well. It's those bunch of rich bastard kids again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All they need to do is tell their mother to buy the $50++ game and I have to work my butt off, surrounded with yelling kids for 8 hours to get a pay that is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;almost&lt;/span&gt; that same sum of money. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course bz gave them sex education for beginners which was hilarious. It's quite disturbing to see 6 year olds trying to do these stuff with their sims until I looked up on stage and see the games that are popular with them. Almost all of them having these sexy half nude models on them so o well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep. No wonder they are getting more perverted at a younger age. And when they're grown up, it's much too pro to say anything anymore. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110051811867654565?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110051811867654565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110051811867654565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110051811867654565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110051811867654565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2004/11/so-ive-survived.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110001782995629505</id><published>2004-11-10T00:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-09T08:30:29.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The same routine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry. &lt;br /&gt;I know I'm wrong. &lt;br /&gt;I'll never do it again.&lt;br /&gt;I'll make up for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep. Trust can be "made up". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that I don't feel upset anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy birthday to myself. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110001782995629505?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110001782995629505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110001782995629505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110001782995629505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110001782995629505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2004/11/same-routine.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-110001388234332244</id><published>2004-11-09T07:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-09T07:24:42.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sandy's asking me to go to Thailand with her next year. If I agreed to every request she had, I would have probably travelled around the world three times over alr. She'll be skydiving for charity next week. I wish I had her type of life... rich but not spoilt and ability to travel and do whatever she wants. Haha... I probably can't get out this hellhole for a long long time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I overheard my sister complaining about her bf today. "We're not even married and he already treats me like this. I don't have to marry him you know. I still have so many choices to choose from. Why should I marry him if he's like this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is short. It's tiring to carry around the burden and responsibility of the relationship if the partner doesn't want to think more about it. This is the period in life where we should be having fun and less reponsibility. A good bf might not be a good husband. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Singles envy couples because they have company. I can only look on with envy at them for their carefree lives and not having to bear the consequences of another's actions..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-110001388234332244?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/110001388234332244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=110001388234332244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110001388234332244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/110001388234332244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2004/11/sandys-asking-me-to-go-to-thailand.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-109992486126946405</id><published>2004-11-08T06:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-08T06:41:01.270-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I got dismissed from my job even before I started. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a call from Sakae Sushi today saying that they actually have enough staff so would I like to join them in December instead? Yeah right. Kiss my ass. So now I'm officially jobless and bumming around again. Which isn't fair. I'd sprawled over the Classifieds and even called up tuition agencies so it isn't as if I didn't make any effort man. I should just give up and resign myself to a tai-tai future (which I bet isn't even possible and sounds so boring. What do they do anyway? There's nothing to do except eat, watch tv, read and sleep). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway I decided to have an official "lazy" day and that meant that I had less than 2 hours of being awake before I really woke up at 6pm. Dinner was not bad and I had a lot which is quite something. Haha. Anyway there was a confusion with the buying of cakes. Apparently my sis wanted to buy a chocolate cake from a shop called "awfully chocolate"  but my mom bought a cake alr. I haven't had it yet so I dunno what type of cake it is. But it is a pity about that "awfully chocolate" cake though I don't like very chocolatey cake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was quite a blast with XL and Chris. We giggled the whole day like a group or secondary schoolgirls. I can't help it cos of XL. I mean, I do treat her as a special somebody (somebody I "care about" not "want to care about" like what I've tried to explain to bz). Sometimes we argue alot and discussions become so heated that I just want to walk away or slam the piano cover on her hand, but she's seriously one of those people who will analyse what you're talking about and not dismiss it easily though that is still highly debatable with the way she mocks herself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;XL: Did you know the more teeth you have the more intelligent you are?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Really? How does it work?&lt;br /&gt;XL: Because the nerves are connected to your brain. (Starts to whine) Did I tell you I have 2 missing teeth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or about how their crushes transcend languages and how they communicate without a common language or even understanding the meaning of what each of them are trying to say. The description of exchanging shy glances and secretive smiles are hilarious. Oh. and that wasn't meant as a mock. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she's doing her horticulture internship now so her friends are mainly bangalas. Apparently she's really suffering and only the bangalas treat her better. She was telling us about her friendships with them and even how cute some of them are, though she couldn't tell them apart at first. I seconded her of course. But Chris, who is kinda erm erm you know... like Sal or maybe worse than Sal cos she'll say it loud in public, seemed kinda stunned. Hahahaha! It was really good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the day was spent doing the girl stuff. Giggling, shopping (which they did and I just moped around), mocking, talking and checking out guys and clothes, blah. We even had to help XL with her weirdest shopping list ever. I kinda miss her alr. She seems to be under so much pressure that her mind is not working straight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btw, I think that Didi and Chris had talked to her about some issues so she kept quiet about that issue that I had lightly touched upon, so I left it as that. That made me slightly disappointed. I think I was spoiling for a fight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they bought me a pair of earrings again. Hahaha! Every birthday, they'll buy me accessories. So every year I'll tell them I do not wear accessories but thank. I love them! Woo! Ah! So pretty! Of course I love them! Except I won't wear them duh. Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O yea. And I realised people do remember my birthday. People whom I think would have forgotten long time ago. It is extremely touching and at the same time I still feel rather guilty. I wish I could convey how sorry I truly am. I hope you'll find a nice and appreciative girl soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I bet that dumbass FP forgot my birthday AGAIN. Ha. Some best friend. MIA best friend. What an ass. I wish we were back at the pub at 2am, clicking our glasses and him spewing his nonsensical criticism of me as usual and me doing vice-versa to him. Right now I can think of more than 1001 criticisms of him and I shall be delighted to let him know those beautiful literary songs I've composed in my head about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btw. I'll be at IMM on sunday to teach people to play SIMS 2. ;) &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-109992486126946405?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/109992486126946405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=109992486126946405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/109992486126946405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/109992486126946405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2004/11/so-i-got-dismissed-from-my-job-even.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-109976588048703969</id><published>2004-11-06T10:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-06T10:31:20.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It certainly feels good to know that not many people read and scrunitise this blog. I wonder how much more freedom I have until this is taken away from me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a pleasant surprise today. I wish people will be straightforward whether they like you as a friend or not, rather than giving me the impression they hate your guts and suddenly let you realise that you've been wrong with one nice gesture. Until the next time they keep up with their mocking and the cycle starts again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daryl's face just appeared in my memory. I remembered him saying that people who have unpleasant pasts and making barriers because of it is just finding excuses to be miserable. To a certain extent, I must agree with him. However, I wonder if logic can rule over emotions. How does one restrain a tide of emotions when it comes crushing down? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I'm extremely emo, I would say,"what right do you sims people have to say that?" to people who have such a smooth-sailing life and still grumble over not having this or that... that you'll die without this or that. My ass. I feel like smacking them upside down and give them a taste of what they &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;need&lt;/span&gt; and can never have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phew! That really sounds emo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway I've got a job! Yeah yeah... the next question is where it is and everybody would be rushing down to mock at my uniform. Ha! O well let that secret place remain a secret (though I bet the whole world knows now) and only divulge that it's a waitressing job. The basic pay and stuff is not bad, but read between the lines and you'll want to bang your head on the countertop. Long hours, no allowances. No choice. I always seem to be one step too late for job vacancies. I'll start on next monday so at least I'll get to relax a bit more. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway Sleepy was giving me those piteous looks so I put him in the living room while I went to wash up. Halfway, I heard my mom starting to nag at me... at 2 in the morning. "How can you leave Sleepy outside all by himself? See! Then he'll want to find people and he just jumped on our bed and woke us up. Niam niam niam..." That stupid rabbit. It's clearly his fault that he jumped on them but I get the blame again that nyeh nyeh. At 2 in the morning. Just like the time when he messed up the towels and the time I was playing(bullying) him. Nyeh nyeh nyeh nyeh. And to think I fed him grapes earlier in the night. Irritating idiot nyeh. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-109976588048703969?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/109976588048703969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=109976588048703969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/109976588048703969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/109976588048703969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2004/11/it-certainly-feels-good-to-know-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9009830.post-109966555160481541</id><published>2004-11-05T22:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-11-05T06:39:11.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Alpha Post</title><content type='html'>After removing my old blog, a new resident moved into my old address. I wonder why I have made a new blog again. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9009830-109966555160481541?l=niamniam.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/feeds/109966555160481541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9009830&amp;postID=109966555160481541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/109966555160481541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9009830/posts/default/109966555160481541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://niamniam.blogspot.com/2004/11/alpha-post_05.html' title='Alpha Post'/><author><name>Amanda</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911927894362688585</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
