<?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-30478784</id><updated>2011-11-28T10:03:54.729-08:00</updated><title type='text'>wishing.hoping.wandering.lost.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>49</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-1220934018293394775</id><published>2007-02-23T01:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-23T01:17:06.342-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've moved. &lt;a href="http://www.freewebs.com/ashorturl"&gt;http://www.freewebs.com/ashorturl&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-1220934018293394775?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/1220934018293394775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=1220934018293394775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/1220934018293394775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/1220934018293394775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2007/02/ive-moved.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-117127762058992649</id><published>2007-02-12T02:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T02:53:40.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6666cc;"&gt;I really don't get something, and that Arina's obsession with teachers. -_- Really, if I hadn't gotten into the same class with her, I wouldn't have known her complete and total fixation with Mdm Nora, Ms Goh Pin Zi ( GPZ), Ms Ada Tan ( ? ) and Ms (something) Koh, you know that Geog teacher that left, Li Khong's cousin. I really, &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;u&gt;really&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;don't get it. Does the bold, underlined and italicised word give you a clue now? Okay, I mean, Ms Koh is a good teacher.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;And so is Mrs Chee, who's her newest obsession. :) We talked to Mrs Chee today as we were leaving school together and she was heading back to her HOD office after buying coffee. Mrs Chee asked me if I was joining PW, so I said yes. She wanted me to join Science. Yeah... &lt;i&gt;right&lt;/i&gt;. It's Science and Entrepreneurship plus together. I got a lot of it last year already, thank you very much. Besides, I already have a PW, &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;TK Radio Station&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;, with Char, Tam and Jo. Arina said that she thought it was retarded. -_- Mrs Chee &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;agreed&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;. Note, agreed, which according to her is different from saying. O_o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;In any case, thanks for bashing my soon-to-getting(?) PW, 'Sarah'. I don't &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;frank&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#6666cc;"&gt; you already.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;color:#000000;"&gt;HMPH!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;PS Despite Arina's weirdo obsession, she still &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;RAWKS&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;! Who0t!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-117127762058992649?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/117127762058992649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=117127762058992649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/117127762058992649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/117127762058992649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-really-dont-get-something-and-that.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-117109308973631942</id><published>2007-02-09T23:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-09T23:38:09.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Well, things are looking up I guess. :) Getting pretty used to secondary three life. I'm just feeling really scared. I was just thinking last night... I guess everybody takes things for granted. That's pretty much the way things goes, you know? I'm just afraid that if someone you treasure and take for granted simply disappear one day. Or what if I myself were to be gone? I don't know. They're just really scary things. All I can hope is that death is nothingness. I probably sound pretty emo, don't I? Well, whatever. Not really. I am actually in a pretty good mood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;I talked to Elly and Mary today. We drifting apart so much. Damn. If only they lived in Singapore you know? Life would totally rock. : I love them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-117109308973631942?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/117109308973631942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=117109308973631942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/117109308973631942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/117109308973631942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2007/02/well-things-are-looking-up-i-guess.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-117042010809505757</id><published>2007-02-02T04:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T04:41:48.110-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;This font's not really pink. It's purplish. *sweats* Okay, I'm using a freaking pink font colour. &gt;_&gt; Today was the last match against Damai. Our season's over. :) That's it I guess. There was this feeling of finality in the air I think. *shrugs* It's like we all knew it was pretty much hopeless... and we didn't really fight. But, whatever. :) At least I caught lops. I could have made those shots though. :( Though I really do play better without all that freaking stress and pressure. I liked today's game. :P Also because Char came and supported me. Heh. Yep, today was pretty okay. I think I'mma change my blogskin...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;LOVE YOU CHAR!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-117042010809505757?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/117042010809505757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=117042010809505757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/117042010809505757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/117042010809505757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2007/02/today-was-last-match-against-damai.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-117032275151104467</id><published>2007-02-01T01:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-01T01:39:11.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#33cc00;"&gt;I'm feeling so random.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Clasped hands,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;secret smiles that betray adoration&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;as they pass.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-117032275151104467?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/117032275151104467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=117032275151104467' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/117032275151104467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/117032275151104467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2007/02/im-feeling-so-random.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-117024603929210636</id><published>2007-01-31T04:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T04:20:39.303-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#663300;"&gt;I hate the way some memories are indelible in your mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Those moments of pure humiliation or utter disappointment and hate of self remain so vividly in my brain. It's as if it's etched into my mind, replaying in every single painful second over and over again at the slightest trigger of the memory. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#3366ff;"&gt;You remember every stupid fucked-up thing you've done, and find it so strange that nobody else remembers what your mind placed so important. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#009900;"&gt;Maybe some of these moments I find so utterly worthy of burying my head in the sand are merely nothing to some people.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#993399;"&gt;Maybe it's time I let go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Maybe I should just release these painful moments that would probably matter naught to somebody else to the endless sands of time...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-117024603929210636?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/117024603929210636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=117024603929210636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/117024603929210636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/117024603929210636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2007/01/i-hate-way-some-memories-are-indelible.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-117007486638914555</id><published>2007-01-29T04:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T04:48:45.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;We lost. It just isn't worth playing anymore. I know that we should probably do our best for the last two matches... but those matches won't get us into the second round. I just feel so... hopeless. So stupid... I feel as if I just don't care, you know? I don't know if this is the right attitude but that's the way I feel. Bok should have put Jamie in GS. Then we could have won. Then we won't be crying. Then I won't feel so fucking guilty. I could have made that shot. I could have gotten that pass. I... I shouldn't have been playing. Granted, the feeling of satisfaction that we had won if we had would have evaded me and I would feel apart of the people who played. The happiness of winning and sadness of losing just isn't the same when you're not playing. Hey, I would rather feel detached from the happiness if we had won instead of lost. Bok should have put Jamie in. He should. We could have won. We could. We were fucking leading. I should have fucking jumped. She's right. I can't jump. I can't. I shouldn't have played. I &lt;b&gt;shouldn't&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:78%;color:#cccccc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's must be so nice to be you. It must be so nice to be &lt;b&gt;you&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-117007486638914555?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/117007486638914555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=117007486638914555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/117007486638914555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/117007486638914555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2007/01/we-lost.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-116920373661333571</id><published>2007-01-19T02:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-19T02:49:40.856-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;I'm bored and has writer's block. :/ Which should explain why I'm here. Blogging. Again. For no reason. 'Cos I'm booooooooooored.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;Bold the statements that are true to you.Italise the statements that you WISH are true.Leave the Fibs alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I miss somebody right now.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I do not watch tv these days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I wear glasses or contact lenses.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I love to play video games.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I have tried marijuana.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I have been in a threesome.&lt;/i&gt; (JUST KIDDING! XD.... Or am I? O_o ) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I believe honesty is usually the best policy.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I have changed mentally over the last year.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I carry my knife/razor everywhere with me.&lt;/i&gt; ( I need to protect myself what. )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I curse.&lt;/b&gt; ( Beware the curse of Yvette. She's fat. And rolls real fast down a hill... Just like a bowling ball. XD )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;I'm totally smart.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; ( Very modest right? )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I've broken someone's bones.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I'm paranoid &lt;strike&gt;sometimes&lt;/strike&gt; all the time.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I would get plastic surgery if it were 100% safe, free of cost, and scar-free.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I need money right now.&lt;/b&gt; ( It'll be amazing when I don't want more money, regardless of need. I sound greedy don't I? )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I love sushi.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I talk really, really fast.&lt;/b&gt; ( SOMETIMES! )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I have long hair.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I have lost money in Las Vegas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I have at least one sibling.&lt;/b&gt; ( Two of them! Take them away from meeeee! )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I have worn fake hair/fingernails/eyelashes in the past.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I couldn't survive without Caller ID.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I like the way I look.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I am usually pessimistic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I have a lot of mood swings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I have a hidden talent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I'm always hyper no matter how much sugar I have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I have a lot of friends.&lt;/i&gt; ( Boy, I sound pathetic. )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I have pecked someone of the same sex.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I enjoy talking on the phone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I practically live in sweatpants or PJ pants.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I love to shop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;Enjoy window shopping.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I would rather shop than eat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I don't hate anyone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm a pretty good dancer.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I'm completely embarrassed to be seen with my mother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I have a cell phone.&lt;/b&gt; ( WELL DUH! )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I believe in God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I watch MTV on a daily basis.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I have passed out drunk in the past 6 months.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I want to have children in the future.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I have changed a diaper before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I've called the cops on a friend before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I'm not allergic to anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I have a lot to learn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I'm shy around members of the opposite sex.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I have made a move on a friend's significant other or crush in the past.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I have tried alcohol before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I own the South Park movie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I would die for my best friend.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I think that Pizza Hut has the best pizza.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I have used my sexuality to advance my career.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I love Michael Jackson, scandals and all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;Halloween is awesome because you get free candy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I watch Spongebob Squarepants and I like it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I am happy at this moment!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I tie my shoelaces differently from anyone I've ever met.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I study for tests most of the time. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I am comfortable with who I am right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I have more than just my ears pierced.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I walk barefoot wherever I can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I have jumped off a bridge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I love sea turtles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I spend ridiculous money on makeup.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Plan on achieving a major goal/dream.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm proficient in a musical instrument.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I worked at McDonald's restaurant.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I hate office jobs.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I love sci-fi movies.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I think water rules.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I went college out of state.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I like sausages.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I adore bright colours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I can't live without black eyeliner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I don't know why the hell I just did this stupid thing.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I usually like covers better than originals.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I can pick up things with my toes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I can't whistle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I can move my tongue in waves, much like a snake's slither.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I have ridden/owned a horse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I still have every journal I've written in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I can't stick to a diet.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I talk in my sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I try to forget things by drowning them out with loads of distractions.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I have jazz in my blood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Climbing trees is a brilliant past-time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I wear a toe ring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;I can't stand at LEAST one person that I work with.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I am a caffeine junkie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I have been to over 15 conventions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I will collect anything, and the more nonsensical the better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm an artist.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I only clean my room when necessary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I like a person of the same sex. ( Duh, Char, Tam, Jo so many people )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I love being happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I am an adrenaline junkie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-116920373661333571?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/116920373661333571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=116920373661333571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116920373661333571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116920373661333571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2007/01/im-bored-and-has-writers-block.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-116919935904208963</id><published>2007-01-19T01:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-19T01:35:59.053-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff9900;"&gt;Today TK had our first match against Bedok Town. We won 23 - 21. ( I'm not sure of the score. ) :/ Though really, it was a bad win. I'm sure the others will agree with me. *sigh* Man, I feel so stupid. I couldn't catch the ball, right? So I hit it upwards so that it wouldn't go out to court... when Wei Rong was going to catch it. T_T I feel so incredibly stupid. I missed so many shots, so many shots I could get in school and yet not at Kallang. The place just doesn't like me. I'm sure of it. *sigh* Yep, Bok let me play today. :/ Amazing. I watched a bit of KC-PLMGSS after our match. PLMGSS is good, especially that center. :/ Shiiiiiiiiiiiiitty. Well, that's it for today. Wait for other updates on Monday when we're playing Chai Chee. *snickers and whisper* I know this may sound presumptous of me, but they aren't very good. Really.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff9900;"&gt;Oh, and Wynne sprained her ankle today during the third quarter(?). :( :( :( Is the first match cursed or something? Cheryl sprained &lt;i&gt;her&lt;/i&gt; ankle during the first match last year. I hope Wynne's gets better soon. Wait... just how long does a sprained ankle take to heal again??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-116919935904208963?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/116919935904208963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=116919935904208963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116919935904208963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116919935904208963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2007/01/today-tk-had-our-first-match-against.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-116868439439725742</id><published>2007-01-13T02:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-13T02:42:38.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Okay... So maybe 3D ain't too bad after all. I'm cheering up and things are looking up really. :) Netball isn't too bad at the moment too because we're preparing for competitions and stuff and Bok isn't pushing us too much. Heh. Yep. The downside's that I'm not talking to Kate, Nezzie, Elly or Mary much anymore. :( Let us not dwell on that. I have something else to add.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;ARINA ROCKS! &lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;(there you go, Arina ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#6600cc;"&gt;Oh, and thanks to Joanne for making me crack up so much. *wipes tears for eyes* No, seriously. *bite lip to try and muffle laughter* He's your secret little crush, I'm not gonna tell him.  *laughing* It would be funny though, wouldn't it?! BWAHAHAHAHAHA! This is fucking hilarious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-116868439439725742?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/116868439439725742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=116868439439725742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116868439439725742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116868439439725742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2007/01/okay.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-116798429965276304</id><published>2007-01-05T00:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-05T00:04:59.663-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>School sucks. Period. Thinking about it makes me break out in cold sweat and feel the extreme need to crap. Seriously. Being separated with everybody truly sucks. :( Anyways, on a lighter note, I might be meeting a Canadian gay guy who's my friend, Mary, from Canada's friend. :) He's gonna hand me the book she's buying for me. :) That's something to look forward to. That's it. School REALLY sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-116798429965276304?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/116798429965276304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=116798429965276304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116798429965276304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116798429965276304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2007/01/school-sucks.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-116668835692179039</id><published>2006-12-20T23:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-21T00:05:56.933-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;Hey, everybody! I've got a new Christmassy layout out. I know I haven't updated in a long time. I'm sorry, but blogging isn't on the top of my priority list when I come online. My lovers and Quizilla are my top proirities. :) So in any case, what has been going on with me lately... *pause* Well, most of my time are spent in Kate's Cbox and on Quizilla, talking with Nezzie, Mary, Elly and of course, Kate. :D We've become somewhat of a family. Nezzie's Kate's and my mumsie. She's the smexiest mama ever. ;) I really love all of them. I'm so glad to have met them. We really have quite a lot of common. Most of us have friends in real life who really aren't friends at all. I hope that doesn't happen to me next year when I go to a whole new class. *crosses fingers* I believe that my friends are really who they say they are. I've seen pictures and they've seen mine. So... I hope to meet them in real life one day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I went to Malaysia recently. My father was so selfish. Damn, I don't know how he could be so goddamn selfish! I was so pissed off at him. He actually threw a temper tantrum at Berjaya Times Square. God. Thank fuck we didn't know anybody there. Thank fuck indeed. Oh, and my family's hosting a family Christmas party here on 24th of December, seeing as how this is our last year here and all. :) Once more, that was something my father had to object. Selfish jerk. :( In any case, the party's on, and I can stay home and watch TV and play computer on X'mas Eve, which are the main reasons my sibs and I want to hold the party here. Like we want to go my grandma's dirty old house which got flooded when it rained. Ugh. In any case. I can use the computer on X'mas Eve! *dances* Maybe some of my friends will be on too, 'cos I think it'll be the 23rd in Canada... Kate will be gone though... :( Though she got the net at home now, so I can talk to her more often! YAY! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;The lead singer of AFI is really hot. No, scratch that. &lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;HAWT!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; He's so goth, so emo, so &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;hawt&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;If you have no idea who AFI is, they're a band. Not to worry if you don't know. :) Check them out though, they're the cooliest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-116668835692179039?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/116668835692179039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=116668835692179039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116668835692179039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116668835692179039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/12/hey-everybody-ive-got-new-christmassy.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-116514197366144470</id><published>2006-12-03T02:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-03T02:32:53.663-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#999999;"&gt;Right now I feel so..blah. It's like indigestion, in your heart. I'm so tired. So sick of all this bullshit. I sound like Sara. *snort* Then again, what had I to worry about compared to her? Her mother is in the hospital with malaria. I had nothing to worry about. Really. I don't. Then why do I feel like this? Have I laughed all I was worth already? The thought of my friend truthfully only brings me down more. It's like...sometimes I don't see the point of trying to maintain our deteriorating relationship when all we're going to be in the future are strangers. I supposed that's a factor as to why I'm feeling so crappy right now. All I want to do is hole myself up at home, and spend my time talking to Kate, Zoe, Nezzie, Mary, Sara and so on online and not having to actually go out and struggle to make new friends. It's so hard. I hate going new places, meeting new people. I'm not that kind of person. I'm a lazy fart I know. I feel so suffocated...I need exercise. Ah, shit this crap. I'm so sick of this bullshit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-116514197366144470?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/116514197366144470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=116514197366144470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116514197366144470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116514197366144470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/12/right-now-i-feel-so.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-116496363459144649</id><published>2006-12-01T00:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-01T01:00:34.630-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#66cccc;"&gt;God. I don't know. I just feel so depressed. I can't make up my mind which story to write. And I can't write proper long stories.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;feel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;SAD.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;Damn. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. *SIGH* I feel so...blah. Oh, whatever. Things are all fucked up. I'll write when I cheer up. Right now, I want to make more skins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-116496363459144649?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/116496363459144649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=116496363459144649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116496363459144649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116496363459144649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/12/god.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-116412540209211365</id><published>2006-11-21T07:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-21T08:10:02.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"&gt;It's official. That evil gnome king I killed in my past life as an elf has come back to haunt me. Then how could you explain farking Quizilla crashing me every single goddamn time?!?!?! "Internal server error"! I say, suck my balls! If I had them...Which I don't...so they are imaginary, because saying suck my tits is just WAY too gross. Shit. I said it. Ah, what the hell. STUPID EVIL GNOME KING! &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;*rants on and on for a good few hours* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;DAMMIT! Are you people paying attention here?! Not to mention me being sorted into damn &lt;u&gt;D&lt;/u&gt; instead of C, where Tam, and Jo is, 'cos there are Option 4-ers in that class! DAMNDAMNDAMNDAMNDAMN.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999999;"&gt;*cough cough* After that tirade, I think it is safe to say that Yvette has now officially lost her mind - and hair - due to stress she places on herself, and ocassionally her poor unsuspecting soon-to-be-ex-friend-due-to-lack-of-communication Joanne, especially during the exam period. Let me just tell you. Seeing a fatshit going crazy...not a pretty sight. *barfs into awaiting plastic bag*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Wait a minute! If I'm Yvette and am typing this...who the hell are YOU, Grey Font, and how the hell did you get HERE?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;I am the almight Evil Gnome KIng. Bwahahahaha...Shake in your boots and quiver in your bra, for I am here. *cackles* You can't stop me! Nanny nanny poo poo [ or how you spell it ]. Stupid crazy little fatshit. I'm all along in her head and she doesn't know it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;If you're in my head...that means that...OMFG! I got into D because of MYSELF?! Holy crap. I would have never suspected myself. It's the perfect crime! *pats self on back* Good job on messing up your own life, dipshit. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;Oh, stop that screaming. *takes out chainsaw and starts it whirring* And now, presenting in theatres, instead of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Yvette Brain Chainsaw...ing. I mean, seriously. Wouldn't you rather watch a girl fight with herself in her own head? I mean, emotional and physical pain. Come ON! People, I know you want this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;*starts running and screaming while creepy music comes into background [ Just like in that creepola advertisement about some French horror show. Oh, the blood. ]*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;After a long elaborate dramatic battle consisting of Yvette screaming and yelling when the chainsaw saws through wood, Evil Gnome King [ hereafter known as EGK ] kills and disposes of Yvette by dumping her into a pool of snapping turtles&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;And I am victorious! *goes on laughing and laughing and laughing laughing until I got sick of typing the same words and decide to end with: until the audience got sick of him and booed him off the stage.*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;The words typed above are merely a form of release for this author, who hopes to entertain the masses with her words. It has no relation to real life whatsoever. Yvette is very much alive indeed. ^_^&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;*grabs sword and runs after EGK, screaming, "YOU KILLED YVETTE?!"*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#999999;"&gt;Goddamit. How many voices in her damn head does this girl have?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-116412540209211365?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/116412540209211365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=116412540209211365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116412540209211365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116412540209211365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/11/its-official.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-116401573835517260</id><published>2006-11-20T01:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T01:42:49.633-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I can't believe this. I can't farking believe this. My marks are that bad, right? I should get my freaking first choice, right? RIGHT?! *glares at you for trying to think that 'No, Yvette shouldn't get her first choice', then hold knife at your neck* I knew you would agree. *cackles* Anywhore, I SHOULD GET MY FIRST CHOICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUT YOU KNOW WHAT THE FREAKING SCHOOL DID?!?!?! THEY PUT ME IN 3D, which FYI is double science, my second choice and a total white-hair-inducer. I bet this is a conspiracy. *frowns* They have it against me somehow. Is it because I'm fat? Well, whoop de doo. Thanks a lot, administration. *Instantly starts exercising* I knew they have &lt;i&gt;something&lt;/i&gt; against me! Thanks a whole bunch. Now, I have to drag my big fat anti-social butt over and make new friends. Guess what? I'm happy with the ones I have now, thank you very much. BIATCHES! I can't freaking believe this shit. They put me in 3D instead of my first choice of combined science. *climbs on chair and puts head in loop* I'm ready to die down. *jumps, gags, struggle to breath, tried to get down,but dies* Dying is not all it's cracked up to be. Ahem. Yvette's ghost here. Talking. Talking about how she's going to haunt the school now and how she's going to make life hard for those shit-faced people who put in 3D. Wondering. Wondering why my favourite colour is green and how many white hair I will have when I grow old...*Live Yvette comes back and kicks Ghost Yvette off the chair, and exorcises the Ghost for typing random shit in her blog* Ahem. Back now. That freaking ghostie. Stupid fat bitch...Oh, wait a minute. I look just like it, don't I?...Ahem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywhore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to my ranting. About the school administration...Nah, I don't want to talk about those dipshits. Let's talk about my new blogskin. When I told Zoe that I was making a skin, she was like "A WHAT?!" LMFAO! I cleared it up later. I made her laugh too. :D My life goal has changed to making my dear husband die laughing. Then I'll take all her writing talent. BWAHAHAHAHA! *coughs* Ow. Throat hurts. No more laughing....Just kidding, Zo. :D I LUB YOO LONG TIMEY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, going off now...and I won't probably be here for a loooooooong time. Going now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously...Going now. You can stop reading now.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to kill those horse-arsehole-farkers we call the school administration.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-116401573835517260?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/116401573835517260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=116401573835517260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116401573835517260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116401573835517260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/11/i-cant-believe-this.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-116398992171530521</id><published>2006-11-19T18:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T18:32:02.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Since Quizilla decided to screw itself over for Kate, Elly, Nezzie and I, I decided to blog. 'Cos what else is there to do? And I feel like writing, however, my creative juices had apparently dried up and left me confuzzled. Heh, confuzzled. Well, in any case. My holidays so far consist of wake up, on computer, head over to Kate's Cbox and IM my husband, and talk to them until they have to leave. It's predictable, unless I have netball, then it's wake up, go factory, eat, go netball, come home, and play computer or watch TV. I'm living a fucking cycle I tell you! I figure that even though nobody I know who reads my blog goes to QZ, I just want to go on and rant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;center&gt;[ SKIP THIS PART EVERYBODY! ]&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;I'm quite a good writer. Right? Not to boast or anything, I mean seriously, not to boast, but I do think that I'm better than half of the twelve-year-old population on QZ. Why on Earth do they discover QZ and smear all their poorly written, I've-NEVER-been to school shit all over the lists! They don't even freaking deserve to be there! Nezzie, Elly and Kate especially! They deserve it! Seriously. Gawd. In any case. I'm suffering from major writer's block for My HP fan fic account, LAappleLA, and Our Love Can Only End In Tears for my other account. Holy shit. I don't want to leave Sierra and Hayden hanging on at the fair! What to write?!?! Elly and Kate's helping me generate ideas. *Hugs them* Love them! They really are awesome friends, keeping company during the holidays.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;If  you didn't listen to me and read the above, don't blame me if you don't get a single word.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;BYE! Going now! Returning with news of what class I'm heading into next year!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-116398992171530521?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/116398992171530521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=116398992171530521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116398992171530521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116398992171530521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/11/since-quizilla-decided-to-screw-itself.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-116321854398223166</id><published>2006-11-10T20:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T20:15:44.003-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#33ff33;"&gt;Okay, I know it has been long since I last updated. Whatever. Life hadn't been really all too interesting to broadcast it to the public. In any case, I'm moving. I'm moving to Simei Green. Yup, I'm leaving this house. DAMMIT! I really like this house too. :( Well, whatever. Guess Tam and I will be living in the same neighbourhood then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-116321854398223166?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/116321854398223166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=116321854398223166' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116321854398223166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116321854398223166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/11/okay-i-know-it-has-been-long-since-i.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-116159014212989485</id><published>2006-10-23T00:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-23T00:55:42.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Hey, everybody! *waves energetically* I just felt like saying that for some reason. In any case, tomorrow's a holiday! CELEBRATE! And I have three computers that have internet now! Whoot! So all my siblings and I hjave to fight over now is possession over the "big" computer, the one I'm using now. It has the fastest internet connection.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc0000;"&gt;We got back all our marks today. I didn't do too badly. I think I should be eligible for the $500 if it's top 10%. If it's top 5%, then I'll just do with $300. *Le sigh* Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! I think I should be able to get my mp3 player!!!! Yeah! YAY!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc0000;"&gt;In any case, I promised to post my marks here. But I decide now not to. Why? The organizer's outside, and I'm in the computer room...So lazy...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Now, time for a rant against FM2. &lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;FUCKING FUGLY FAGGOT MAGGOT!&lt;/u&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;You know what she did?! She made all of us stay back today, which by the way is Cleaning Day ( wherein I would like to add. If they make us clean the school &lt;u&gt;ourselves&lt;/u&gt;, may I ask what is the use of hiring those cleaners if they don't clean it? Hello? They are called &lt;u&gt;clean&lt;/u&gt;ers. Jeez. ). Tam, Char and I escaped from the &lt;b&gt;bitch&lt;/b&gt;'s tyranny. BWAHAHAHA! Successful escapees! People keep saying that we will have to stay back on Wed instead. Hello? What's the point of escaping if we're going to stay back on Wed? Yeah. Right. Like we will. Char and Tam have dance and drama respectively. I? I have spinal check-up! That's right. Ain't it convenient? *grins*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc0000;"&gt;You know what Fm2 is? She's the &lt;i&gt;slime&lt;/i&gt; on the foot of a newt that had been growing in an unwashed old man's sock and feeding off his toe jam. No, wait. She's not even &lt;i&gt;fit&lt;/i&gt; to be slime. Name me the &lt;b&gt;foulest, vilest, most digusting, most gruesome and most pathetic&lt;/b&gt; thing in the universe, and that's her. There really is no other way to describe her. Bitch. I mean, she made people stay back for 40 fucking minutes just because the back of the chair's not clean.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc0000;"&gt;I say this. WHO LOOKS AT THE BACK OF THE FUCKING CHAIR?!?!?! What the hell is her problem? That mental biased bitch has &lt;i&gt;way&lt;/i&gt; too much time on her hands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Kisses&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;3&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-116159014212989485?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/116159014212989485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=116159014212989485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116159014212989485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116159014212989485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/10/hey-everybody-waves-energetically-i.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-116124848544327480</id><published>2006-10-19T01:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T02:01:25.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#66cccc;"&gt;Went to the library and borrowed books today. Pretty contented. Not much to talk about. So littlt to talk about that I'm not even typing in whole sentences. Okay, which is horrible. I have to start writing like this. Anyways, we spent today's IT lesson doing whatever we want, and Char and I went to XiaXue's blog. Truth be told, for a bitch, her English is rather good. In any case, she's still a bitch, with extremely superficial and harsh perpective of people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#66cccc;"&gt;Today was completely free actually, except for damn Maths. Oh, and we had the streaming option forms given to us today. &lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt; I don't know what the fuck I should take, or whether I can get in or not, 'cos people like Jo and Dennis definitely can get into Option 4 ( Double Science, Pure Geog ), which by the way, is their freaking first choice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Sigh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;I should have studied harder for common test. Why, oh, why did I insist on playing the computer?! Damn my obsession with it! Damn those naturally smart people who yet deny it and give the excuse that if they are genuises, they wouldn't be in TK. You know who you are, darn you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#66cccc;"&gt;Well, whatever. I could always take Option 8 ( Combined Science, Pure Geog ), if I could make it that is. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;ARGH.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt; I feel like making another blogskin. Should I? Oh, well. I'll do that when I'm done with &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;There Are Two Sides To A Mirror &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;Son of Satan  Daughter Of Dracula&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-116124848544327480?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/116124848544327480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=116124848544327480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116124848544327480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116124848544327480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/10/went-to-library-and-borrowed-books.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-116107351278338493</id><published>2006-10-17T01:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T01:25:12.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff9966;"&gt;BWAHAHAHA! There's no netball today! YAY! Thank you, haze! You're my new best friend! *hugs and kisses all about* Heck, I'm so happy right now that *hands chocolate cookies handmade by Yvette's imagination to you*, go on, try it! It's delicious, I swear. What? Don't you trust my imagination? *mock glares*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff9966;"&gt;Anywho, Jo and Char went to Orchard today. I wasted 30 bloody minutes waiting for Mrs Chen to come down and ask who's going holiday or whatever. In any case, it's still a waste of time. Oh, and what do you people think of my blog skin??? I made it myself, if you have yet to read yesterday's post. And see, this blog's not dead. So there, Jo and Char. Blegh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff9966;"&gt;So. I'm going off now. To Quizlla I go!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;Kisses and &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-116107351278338493?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/116107351278338493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=116107351278338493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116107351278338493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116107351278338493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/10/bwahahaha-theres-no-netball-today-yay.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-116098928405595101</id><published>2006-10-16T01:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T03:41:36.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;Okay, what do you think of my skin now? I spent the whole day on it! Is it too blue??? *peers around* Well, in any case, I made the banner myself. So naturally, it's a little plain. But, hey! This is the FIRST skin I ever made by myself!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;I know I haven't been posting in a long time, hence the tags on my Cbox citing this lack of entries as a sign of a 'dead' blog. Well, in any case, I jumped into the heart of my blog and jumpstarted it. So, here it is! Alive again. However, Quizilla takes first priority in my computer time. I don't really care for blogging.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;So let's just make this short and sweet. Exams  are over. Woo hoo. Birthday passed. Got everything I wanted. Yay. Short enough? Yep. I also got this skirt for my birthday from Edel, Prag, Jo, Char and Tam. I don't really know what to think of it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;Anywho, we got back some of our papers today. Pretty happy. I'll post my results here when I get everything back. But, before that you probably won't hear from me here. I'm going off now, anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;Kisses and &lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-116098928405595101?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/116098928405595101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=116098928405595101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116098928405595101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/116098928405595101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/10/okay-what-do-you-think-of-my-skin-now.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115814665929255780</id><published>2006-09-13T04:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-13T04:27:36.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"&gt;I would like to first thank Prag and Edel for their concern about my last post. I'm over it now. Not down anymore! Thanks for worrying! :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#9999ff;"&gt;Now, onto other matters.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#9999ff;"&gt;A new club have arrived in town! A brand-spanking new, exclusive club! Well, not really, unless you're not single, 'cos the club's called &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;The Singles' Club&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;. This is not a joke. We're serious. I supposed we started it because of Char's break up. It's the brainchild of Jo and I. There was now another member to join the ranks of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;ingle and Proud of it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;. Yup. The head honcho of the club is none other than me. Unfortunately. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#66cccc;"&gt;It's all Char's and Jo's fault dammit!!!&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Curse them! Anyway, Char's &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Vice-President&lt;/span&gt;. And Jojo's the &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Public Relations Manager&lt;/span&gt; *cough cough*useless*cough cough*. She was initially &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Secretary &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;but due to her dislike of the term, Char invented the 'Public Relations Manager' thing. Yup.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#9999ff;"&gt;It was today that we decided to take it seriously. Before that they were just using it as an excuse to make me this T-shirt with them so that there will be a 30% discount. Then we began to talk of expanding it. Malaysia, Australia, America, Canada and India. It was hilarious. Then Char wanted to come over to put songs in the USB port, so Jo came over and we did up a website on the club. My hard work. All of you go look at it! At my links!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#9999ff;"&gt;Oh, right. We managed to recruit one member so far. Calvin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#9999ff;"&gt;Well, that's it for today. Oh, yeah. We had our oral presentation today. Glad that's over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115814665929255780?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115814665929255780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115814665929255780' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115814665929255780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115814665929255780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-would-like-to-first-thank-prag-and.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115778853873069338</id><published>2006-09-09T00:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T00:55:39.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;I feel so heavy. Like everything is wrong, and nothing's alright. I would do cutting I dared to. But I don't. So I guess that just makes me pathetic. Which I am. I just want to feel something other than this heaviness I have inside of me. Even self-inflicted pain. Smething other than this crushing sadness. This utter hopelessness. This consuming meaninglessness. This fucked up cycle just keeps moving, on and on and on again. It never ends. There's no escape. Everything you do just goes to waste. Nothing ever means anything anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;I wish I could cut. I wish I dared to. At this moment, I could just imagine myself doing that. I don't need any shit about needing love. I don't want pity. I don't want to feel anything. All those fake smiles, fake reassurances, momentaary happiness. They all pass. Pass and I'll be left alone with this anguish again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Nothing will be left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115778853873069338?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115778853873069338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115778853873069338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115778853873069338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115778853873069338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-feel-so-heavy.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115736319030773031</id><published>2006-09-04T02:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-04T02:47:10.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ffff;"&gt;I decided to blog again, before I lose the 'blogging bug'. I actually getting quite sick of blogging. Le sigh. Well, whatever. I'm blogging now, aren't I? Talked to &lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;ZOE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt; this morning! Yeap! She managed to get her Brendan Urie, who by the way is the lead singer of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt;Panic! At The Disco&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;, story updated, and I read it. It was rather good. Zo really has an amazing imagination. I just &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;love, love, love, LOVE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt; her &lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;Ghost From The Past&lt;/span&gt; story, which I am helping to update! :D Yay! Just published it today. It's not as long as Chpater 4 though. Oh, well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#33ffff;"&gt;Anyway, I got somebody, part of a group, on Quizilla to review my new story, &lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Wishing Upon The Dog Star&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;, and she gave a good review! YAY! Wait a mo, I'll try and see if I can paste it here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Summary: The girl's quite normal, and quite goody-goody, until her father died. Her mother had died earlier and she was devastated. Worst, she is forced to live with her hated grandmother, whom she doesn't know at all. Then she meets a beautiful guy, who will turn out to be more than just that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Originality: B Yay. It's finally great to see an actual good original story nowadays. I love how the title gave away absolutely nothing about what would happen in the story. It gives the readers much leeway as to believing what they want. The events in the beginning are a tad bit overused, the girl getting out of class to the principal's office and their life turns upside down. A little overused, but PredictMe has managed to make it less obvious. Good job. =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Mechanics: A- Ay, the dreaded mechanics. Grammar, spelling, sentence structure; that thing. But PredictMe has done an amazing job with that. There were hardly any mistakes whatsoever. Few occasional typos in part two, but part one was practically flawless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Paragraph Structure: B+/A- Just a new category I'm throwing in. It's nice to see the paragraph spacings. However, PredictMe should work on not spacing the sentences into separate paragraphs in order to make it look like there are more paragraphs. She's got the detail worked out, it's just a matter of knowing which ones remain together in a paragraph, and where it must be separated. And another part about the dialogue, when the people are having a conversation, she seems to have less detail in that area as they converse. Try throwing in more details, more thoughts in her mind as she talks with the male character.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Format/Appearance: A+ Beautifully done. I like the background and the disappearance of the gray box. That's always pissed me off. -___- The font is a good size and the face is actually readable. Apparently, the background wasn't working when I had written this original review. But when I saw the background, I was in love with it. The falling stars with the gray background match your story perfectly. I'm officially awestruck by your abilities to make every detail come together. Good job. =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Personal Comments For PredictMe's Usage: Overall, your story was uber amazing. I'm definitely putting it on my watch last. Hopefully Trey and Dom won't mind that. O.o Other than those few details I've already pointed out about paragraphs and such, it's going absolutely wonderfully. I'm seriously loving it. A lot. I can hardly find any good original stories, and I believe I've found it. =D Good job! Ooh, and one minute detail that I've only seen once. Instead of saying "60s" as you did in part one, put down sixties. Numbers less than 100 you spell it out. =P That's it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Overall Grade: A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;My Personal Comments: Don't ever give up on writing. =P You've got what it takes!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Excerpt: The screech of feedback was always the first sign that the Principal was attempting to work the ancient PA system. Everybody jolted out of their Shakespeare-induced doze, and winced, clapping their hands over their ears. I straightened reluctantly and yawned, stretching my arms.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;"Will Miss Alia Waverly please come to the General Office?" the voice of Mrs. Morton, amplified and scratched by the PA system, said. "I repeat, will Miss Alia Waverly please come to the General Office?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;I blinked in surprise, and my heart started to beat faster with anticipation and anxiety.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;I was generally a good girl. I didn't do drugs, smoking, sex (unfortunately) or disobeyed the authorities. I never had my name called over the PA system before. Only people like Seth Cost got his name called over the PA system.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Heads swivelled around to stare at me, and eyes followed my movements to stuff my textbook into my backpack and pick it up with the intensity hawks had on their prey.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;"What did you do?" my best friend, class president Tracy Hankman, whispered, leaning forward across her desk as I passed her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;"I don't know." I shrugged in bewilerment and nervousness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;"Hurry, Miss Waverly." our English teacher, Mr. Thomas, eyed me with suspicion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;My name was only called one time, and they were already treating me like a criminal. I supressed the urge to roll my eyes, and moved on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;I wondered what I could possibly had done. Could it be that I was late that day? But Mrs Morton agreed to give me chance since it was my first time late. She couldn't possibly wait til so long for the thing to be over before coming back and thrusting the matter into my face right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;I entered the General Office, shivering as the cold air-conditioned air washed over my sweaty body. The receptionist looked up as I approached. She had been talking on the phone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;"Yes. The car wash is this weekend. Yes, the proceeds will go to the Oakey Old Folks' Home. Thank you, sir." she was saying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;She nodded at me and pointed a blue ballpoint pen at the Principal's Office, indicating for me to go in. She knew me pretty well because I was the class secretary, on the comittee along with Tracy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;I gave her a nervous smile, and she simply looked away sadly.I gulped. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;What did I do? Is that bad?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;I knocked on the door, turned the doorknob and went in to find Mrs Morton sitting behind her desk, with her hands folded on her desk and her face placidly turned towards another woman all in black in front of her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ffff;"&gt;Heh, managed to paste it. And the review was written by one of the more popular writers on &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;! Well, I just wasted one entry on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Quizilla&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;. Going off now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#33ffff;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115736319030773031?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115736319030773031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115736319030773031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115736319030773031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115736319030773031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-decided-to-blog-again-before-i-lose.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115675794232211873</id><published>2006-08-28T02:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T02:39:02.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;AHHHHHHHHHHHHH! STUPID FUCKED UP COMPUTER!!! THE FUCKING INTERNET THING JUST TURNED OFF ALL OF A SUDDEN! THEN I HAD TO REBOOT SYSTEM &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;TWICE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; AND REPAIR INTERNET CONNECTION &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;TWICE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;! GOD!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#993300;"&gt;Although it could MY fault. From you know, using the com so much and downloading stuff...Maybe unknown viruses went in...Oops. *Glances furtively to see if Daddy's home* Phew, he's not back yet. I'm safe. Or he'll go on and on about me using the com.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#993300;"&gt;Anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Should I go back to TVPS on Thurs? It would take me&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#66cccc;"&gt;TWO&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#cc0000;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;and a transfer train though. GROAN! Well, whatever. I'll see what Sammi says.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115675794232211873?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115675794232211873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115675794232211873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115675794232211873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115675794232211873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/08/ahhhhhhhhhhhhh-stupid-fucked-up.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115649058604962570</id><published>2006-08-25T00:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T00:23:06.060-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#3333ff;"&gt;She has done it this time. She crossed the line. In a &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;major&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; way. FM2 is a fucking slut, whore, bitch, faggot and prostitute who nobody wants to fuck with a million dollars anyway. You want to know what she did? To tell you what she did, I have to take you back oh, about two weeks ago.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;It was before exams, four of the GAMOTs stayed back for IPW, and when they did, they forced open the metal cupboard in the classroom their stuff. You all know how heavy our books are, it's no wonder really. Even Tam and Jo did it. Put their stuff I mean. Anyway, there were History props in there, toy guns and helmets and stufff. I had actually thought it belonged to one of the NCC Land boys or something. I only found out that it belonged to the school or whatever, when the whole case blew up 'cos Jeremy and some other person broke the toys. So anyway, the GAMOTs and boys who broke the toys got into trouble. That happened a few days ago and they were already arranged to be punished.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;However&lt;/i&gt;, today FM2 told us to write a compo or letter more specifically, about a situation when "I" saw some classmates of mine forcing open the metal cupboard in class and destroying things in the cupboard. Sounds familiar? DUH! SHE IS SO OBVIOUSLY MAKING A DIG AT THE GAMOTS 'COS &lt;i&gt;SHE&lt;/i&gt; DOESN'T LIKE THEM! Seriously, I am not speaking this from a biased point of view, even if I am, it's pretty obvious. I'll elaborate later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;This is her idea of a sick, twisted way to punish those already punished. Seriously, they are already feeling bad enough. She still had to go rub salt into wounds. She's a sick twisted fucking bitch. And you know what she said the main point of the letter to the Principal was? HOW TO PUNISH THEM. It's like she wants them to punish themselves. SADISTIC FUCKER!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Going now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;3&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115649058604962570?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115649058604962570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115649058604962570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115649058604962570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115649058604962570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/08/she-has-done-it-this-time.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115625236776196611</id><published>2006-08-22T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-22T06:12:47.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#66cccc;"&gt;I feel so depressed today. Because of my marks, and lack of a love life I have. Mostly my pathetic, fucking marks though. If this persists, I don't want to go out tomorrow to buy the supplies anymore, I wanna stay home and write up History notes. I have to start studying now. I have to, or I am screwed. I have to do well. I have to. &lt;b&gt;I HAVE TO&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115625236776196611?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115625236776196611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115625236776196611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115625236776196611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115625236776196611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-feel-so-depressed-today.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115616728685666551</id><published>2006-08-21T06:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T06:34:46.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#6633ff;"&gt;Oh, yeah. Char said that she's looking to the future this afternoon, before we went to sort out our Social Entrepreneuship stuff. You wanna know why? 'Cos she has everything planned out. And, boy, did she ever have everything planned out. She said that she was going to migrate to Italy. Can't blame her. If I had a choice, I would hightail it out of Singapore without a moment's hesitation. My mother would &lt;i&gt;gladly&lt;/i&gt; tag along.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;Char said that if she had to stay in boring ole Singapore, she would become a Geog teacher and &lt;i&gt;he&lt;/i&gt; would become a PE teacher in that school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;She already had &lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;marraige&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt; planned! With a boyfriend she only had for three months! Not only that, he is her first boyfriend!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;Tam says it's expected, 'cos Char's those faithful type, unlike Tam herself. Tsk tsk, Tammie. Anyway, even if Char's faithful...Are you sure it's true love? He's only your first. I think it's most probably infatuation?? But whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Are you &lt;i&gt;sure&lt;/i&gt;??? MARRAIGE??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;Pardon me for saying so, but you sound like some lovestruck, lovesick teenager, who really couldn't tell the difference between infatuation and true love. Maybe you're not, maybe you are really in love. What do I know? But we have only spent 13 or so odd years on this panet we call Earth. Is it possible for us to know 'love' between a guy and a girl that sort?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;I don't know. I don't believe in it after all. Love, that is. Ironic isn't it? That I write so much love stories, and yet I don't believe in it. How hypocritical of me. Maybe love &lt;i&gt;does&lt;/i&gt; exist, just that it'll never happen to me. It's not that I have no self-confidence, seriously. I don't really believe in it. Kinda bogus. Even if it does...is it possible for Char and him to be truely in &lt;i&gt;love&lt;/i&gt; with each other?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;Well, whatever. Her life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;Anyway, what's the difference between &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;spirit&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#6633ff;"&gt; and &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;ghost&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#6633ff;"&gt;? Leave me a message on the tagboard! Thanks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#6633ff;"&gt;&lt;3&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115616728685666551?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115616728685666551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115616728685666551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115616728685666551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115616728685666551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/08/oh-yeah.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115615929500042860</id><published>2006-08-21T03:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T04:22:54.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#339999;"&gt;Wow. I never knew that Jo was such a good psychiatrist. &lt;i&gt;Now&lt;/i&gt; then I found out what a sensitive and soft person I am. On the inside. I am easily hurt, and discouraged. I lack self-confidence and am actually a real sadistic person who enjoys bullying Jo to realease my pent-up frustration at being so useless. Yes. Jo made me realise that &lt;i&gt;all&lt;/i&gt; now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Just like how she's actually a wild child and bad girl on the inside, while her goody-goody, Red Crosser outside is a mere weak fabrication of lies. It's quite easily seen through her latest post on Sunday don't you think? She threatened to shoot us all! OHMYFUCKINGGOD! We had all better take cover when she's mad then, in case she whips out her automatic and starts firing bullets all about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;I just read Prag's blog. She sounds so sad. But sometimes, I just don't know what to say to her. Oh, look. Speak of the devil. She's online. It's like I don't know what to say to her. It's not that we think she prefers her 2G friends so she doesn't want to hang out with us, like she seems to think on her blog. It's just that she seems happier with them. They have much more in common than Tam, Jo, Char or I. We never said that she couldn't be friends with both groups, just that...you know. But Prag sounds so sad on her blog. Oh, I said that, didn't I? Anyway, I don't know what to do about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;We got back our Geog papers today. I got 16 1/2. I studied my &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;fucking &lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#339999;"&gt;ass for this paper. Char and I both studied it during the National Day holidays, and she got 15. It's &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;so damn bloody fucking unfair! &lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;I studied my damn bloody fucking brains off for this fucking Geography test! AND I ONLY GOT A FUCKING &lt;i&gt;16&lt;/i&gt;?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#339999;"&gt;Mummy is &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; going to be happy. I am so fucking screwed. I don't even want to &lt;i&gt;think&lt;/i&gt; about Science.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Edel said that she didn't study much for the test, and she got &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;20 1/2! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;It's &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;impossible&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;, because:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;stupid fucking &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;bitch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#339999;"&gt; who marked our paper went exactly by the rules, which shows to us that she is &lt;i&gt;very&lt;/i&gt; experienced as a teacher to make her own decisions and not having to go &lt;i&gt;exactly&lt;/i&gt; by the rules, goes exactly by the mark line thingy as said before, so if you had &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; went to memorise the things you could &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; have gotten 20 1/2. 'Cos most of the stuff came from the textbook. I FUCKED UP, I get it. Studied for NOTHING.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;THE FUCKING PAPER IS NOT CHICKEN, OKAY? NOT EVERYBODY GOT SO HIGH AS YOU! WE THOUGHT THAT THE PAPER WAS OKAY AT FIRST! THEN WE HAD TO HAVE THIS FUCKING BITCH FOR A TEACHER! THE FUCKING 23-YEAR-OLD BUT LOOKS LIKE MID-THIRTIES TEACHER! SHE JUST &lt;i&gt;HAD&lt;/i&gt; TO MARK EXACTLY BY THE GUIDELINES! FUCKING BITCH WHO DESERVE TO BE STEWED IN PIGS' URINE THEN LEFT TO DRY IN THE SAHARA DESERT AND TIED THERE FOR A FLOCK OF VULTURES TO PICK HER OFF SLOWLY PIECE BY PIECE. THEN WHEN SHE'S STILL ALIVE, THOUGH IT'S DOUBTFUL, I'LL TIE HER TO A CHAIN AND LEAVE A SAW WITHIN REACH. EITHER SHE CUTS OFF HER OWN FOOT, BECAUSE THE SAW'S NOT SHARP ENOUGH FOR THE METAL CHAIN, OR SHE DROPS INTO A SNAKE PIT. THEN SHE DROPS EVENTUALLY INTO THE SNAKE PIT ANYWAY, WHEN I PUSH HER INTO IT IN THE VENT SHE CUTS HER FOOT OFF.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;BWAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;3 from the evil bitch who enjoys bullying her friend, Jo, and sadistically killing her evil slutty cancerous-mole-having Geography teacher slowly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115615929500042860?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115615929500042860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115615929500042860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115615929500042860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115615929500042860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/08/wow.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115606075549925686</id><published>2006-08-20T00:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-20T00:59:15.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;"&gt;There's also a reason the quarterback in high school always dated the head cheerleader - their kind is biologically predetermined to go forth and make other popular kids for everyone else to envy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#993300;"&gt;That's my quote of the day. I got it off some article I read on the net. I think that maybe I'm going to base my next story on that, and...I don't know. If osme popular guy miraculously falls for the main character, it would be so cliched. So been there, done that, got the T-shirt. Then again, the reason people write stories like that is to try and forget the fact that they don't have that life, like me. How pathetic. But that's what I love about writing and reading anyway. You can be anything or anyone, you don't have to be boring, pathetic you. In writng, you control the world. You decide things. It's like being world ruler. Though it isn't real. Just a facade of pretense and imagination.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#993300;"&gt;Because you know something like that will never happen to you. You want it to, and in writing, you &lt;i&gt;can&lt;/i&gt; make it happen to you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#993300;"&gt;That's why I love writing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#993300;"&gt;Because I don't have to be &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;color:#000000;"&gt;me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115606075549925686?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115606075549925686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115606075549925686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115606075549925686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115606075549925686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/08/theres-also-reason-quarterback-in-high.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115573567270061156</id><published>2006-08-16T06:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-16T06:41:12.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc6600;"&gt;My sinuses are stuck, my nose keep dripping, I feel a little flushed, and I think I feel a headache coming on. Yup, people, I am offically sick. I have been couching, sneezing, and tissue-ing all over the place. Groan. It's &lt;i&gt;such&lt;/i&gt; a bother to be sick during exams. God, I ahve to study and be sick at the same time! So, I'm turning in early today...No, wait. It's already 9.28pm, I have to go in 2 minutes time anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"&gt;So I have to finish what I want to say in the first place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"&gt;Jo and I talked about, I don't know how to put it, guys? Not exactly, but anyway, she said that she kinda envy Tam and Char for hacing boyfriends. I agreed. I mean, who doesn't want to have a guy you will ditch your friends for? I mean, not that I &lt;i&gt;will&lt;/i&gt;, but more of the idea that you are willing to change your plans at the single moment he says he is free and you two hardly ever saw each other, so yeah, time to see the one person that really makes you secure again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"&gt;Jo wondered why she couldn't get one, as in a boyfriend. I think that it could be that she's not &lt;i&gt;noticeable&lt;/i&gt; enough. Like Tam, who's chio, and Char who's...forward/21st century (?). Anyway, she also has to get over the whole insecure 'I won't message him until he message me' thing. Yup, I already told her that anyway. Maybe we need a guy who has initiative, as Jo is not as 21st century as Char. After all, it will be nice if the guy has the initiative, you know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"&gt;So she's going to wait. Even if &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt; do, wait that is, nothing ever going to happen anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"&gt;Shit, have to go sleep. BYE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc6600;"&gt;P.S. And thanks to Zoe for trusting me enough to give me her password! Kisses. XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO to Pluto! LOL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115573567270061156?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115573567270061156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115573567270061156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115573567270061156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115573567270061156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/08/my-sinuses-are-stuck-my-nose-keep.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115563811382496540</id><published>2006-08-15T03:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-15T03:35:13.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;I AM SO FUCKING SCREWED! In fact, I screwed up the Science paper so badly I deserved to be slapped with a 20-year jail term for raping and manslaughter. I totally KILLED the paper. You know what the teacher will see when she marks the paper?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;A LOAD OF SHIT, that's what.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;CALCIUM CARBONATE is the compound/acid present in apples that's what.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;SO SCREWED UP AND BUH-BYE TO THE IPOD that's what.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;I can say buh-bye to the first place in class, if it was mine to begin with, WHICH NOT BY THE WAY, because I'm a fucking loser.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;I AM SO FUCKING SCREWED UP! OR THE PAPER IS, WHICH EVER.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;It's too late to regret it or cry over spilled milk now. Too late. But it's not too late for me to jump off the highest building nearby and boil in a pot of oil in Hell in my afterlife, well, that is if I believed in afterlife. Ah, fuck. FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Oh, yeah. Shaun said that girls can't use the word FUCK. Yeah, like, says who? The guy who lives on the street and cleans toejam for construction workers for a living? 'Cos you know, the guy doesn't exist, and that statement is A LOAD OF BULL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;We're living in the 21st century here, hello? Girls can make the first move, though I prefer guys to make the first move personally, not that there's a chance for me to even make the first move even if I &lt;i&gt;wanted&lt;/i&gt; to, anyway. Women are even taking on what are normally classfied as &lt;b&gt;guy&lt;/b&gt; jobs or what shit. So, why can't &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt; use the word FUCK?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;So sexist. Whatever. I'm going to drown myself in love stories on Quizilla to dull my sorrow and pain of screwing the paper up so bad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;History was a pice of blueberry pie with the cherry on top though. Just thouhgt I'll say to make myself feel better, though I had better &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; say it, or I'll jinx it. AHHHHHHH! FUCK OFF!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Lates, as Zoe says ( Heh heh, stole it from you, if you're reading this! ).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;3&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115563811382496540?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115563811382496540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115563811382496540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115563811382496540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115563811382496540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-am-so-fucking-screwed-in-fact-i.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115530322747001290</id><published>2006-08-11T06:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-11T06:33:48.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Continuing from just now...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Two political parties were especially interested in the 1955 elections, Labour Front led by David Marshall, a lawyer, and People's Action Party led by Lee Kuan Yew, another lawyer. The main point of their election campaign was anti-colonoism.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;David Marshall was a good and powerful speaker. He lashed out at the unfair treatement of the Asians under the British, and criticised the SPP for not doing enough in helping Singapore to achieve self-government.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Lee Kuan Yew is also a good speaker. He was able to put difficult ideas across in a simple way so that even ordinary people were able to understand him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;The parties organise rallies to get people excited and interested in the election. They went from door-to-door. The PAP had informed the people of their plans to provide free education for all children until the age of 16 and to fight for the rights of the workers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;This time in 1955, 160, 000 people voted, compared to the 13, 800 people in 1928. Then on 2 April 1955, 5000 people gathered at Empress Place to hear the results of the election. Labour Front had won with a small margin, and SPP was defeated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;The British and SPP were shocked. They had expected SPP to win and to guide Singapore in a gradual way towards self-government.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Since David Marshall's party won most of the seats, they formed the government and he became Chief Minister. However, he was still under the control of the Governer. Even though he had won the election, the Governer and his officials only regarded him as a figurehead and did not give him any respect. The British had also refused to give him an office until he threatened to set up office under a tree in Empress Place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Marshall's government did not have full British support as they did not expect them to win. Futhermore, they only won the election by a margin. They did not think that Marshall would protect British interests or deal with the communist threat, as Marshall seemed reluctant to arrest and imprison communists.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;When Marshall asked for more powers for his government, the Governer refused. Marshall felt that the amount of self-government the British gave them was insufficient, and he wanted all matters concerning Singapore to be under the local ministers. He had said that if he British did not agree to grant them full internal salf-government, he would resign as Chief Minister.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;He managed to get the British to agree to discuss self-government. He led a group of men to London in 1956. He demanded full self-government for Singapore by 1957, and insisted that Singapore had a say in defence and external affairs. The British were not confident of his ability to eliminate the communist threat, so the talks failed and Marshall resigned as Chief Minister.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Lim Yew Hock became the next Chief Minister. From 1954 to 1956, there had been a lot of strikes riots caused by the communists, and he arrested and imprisoned many of them. This pleased the British, and when he led another group of men to London for discussion about full self-government, he succeeded. He announced to Singapore that Singapore would have full internal self-government by the elections in 1959.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;This time, more people voted, as a law was passed to make it easier for people not born in Singapore to become citizens of Singapore. Voting was also made compulsory for the first time. This time, 520, 000 people voted. Out of the 13 parties that participated this time, compared to the only 6 parties in 1955, the PAP impressed the people most as they appeared united. They also had a clear plan for SIngapore and its people and seemed interested in improving their lives. For example, they promised to improve health and education. They had also stressed that they were an incorruptible party.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Thus the PAP won 43 out of the 51 seats. Voting day was 30th May 1959.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Several months after that, Yusof Ishak was sworn in as the Yang di-Pertuan Hegara [ not sure ], or Head of State.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;The State Crest, or National Coat of Arms consists of a shield with a white cresent moon and five white stars on a red background. Supporting the shield, with the lion on the left and the tiger on the right. Under the shield is a banner with the Republic's motto, 'Majulah Singapura' on it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Like the State Crest, the National Flag has the white crescent moon and five white stars on a red background. The flag is made up of two equal horizontal parts, red above white. The red symbolises universal brotherhood and equality of man. White represents prevading and everlasting purity and virtue. The five stars represents the five ideals of democracy, peace, progress, justice and equality. The crescent moon represents a young rising nation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:180%;color:#006600;"&gt;BLOODY FUCKING HELL! I'M DONE!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115530322747001290?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115530322747001290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115530322747001290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115530322747001290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115530322747001290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/08/continuing-from-just-now.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115528286500438891</id><published>2006-08-11T00:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-11T01:30:14.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#3366ff;"&gt;I know, I know. What am I doing online right? When I should be studying, when common test is only bloody fucking &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;NEXT WEEK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;! But I just finished studying History. And I wanna update my stories...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Okay, to make me feel better, I'll revise it here, right now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Warning &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;to those reading this right now, stop of you don't want to be reminded that &lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;common tests &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;are &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;NEXT WEEK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt; and you have absolutely no wish to see the words you have studying recently again: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;STOP READING THIS RIGHT NOW!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Chapter 3&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;In 1824, the British possessed Singapore, Melaka and Penang. In 1826, they combined them and called them the Straits Settlements because they were all situated along the Straits of Melaka. The British government in India ruled the settlements. Then in 1867, the control over these settlements were transferred to the Colonial Office in London. The Straits Settlements then became a Crown Colony.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Under the Colonial Office, a British official, called the Governer, was put in charge of the settlements. He was the most important person in the settlements. He represented the King or Queen of Britain, and made the final decisions in the governement running the settlements. He ruled with the help of two groups of people - the Executive Council and the Legislative Council. The Executive Council helped him to carry out the laws, while the Legislative Council helped him to &lt;i&gt;make&lt;/i&gt; laws.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;The British system of government from 1867 to 1924 was like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;the British Colonial Office was at the top, with the Governer below the Office. Under the Governer, we had the two Councils. The Executive Council was made up of British officails and helped the Governer to run the government. The Legislative Council was made up mainly of Executive Council members and some non-officials, who were traders nominated by the Governer. The Legislative Council helped the Governer to make laws.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Even though the population of Singapore was mostly Asian, the British ruled with little Asian participation. This was because up to the 1940s, the people were not interested in government and were more interested in making a living. They were contented to leave the ruling of the island to the British. The only people who were interested were European and Asian traders ( also known as merchants ). Some of them were nominated to be on the Legislative Council. This was an important step in getting Asian participation in government, as Asian traders were more aware of the situation of the people in Singapore and can help to pass laws to improve the lives of the people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;For example, from 1914 to 1918, house rents were very high and many poor people could not afford them. Dr Lim Boon Keng, a non-official member of the Legislative Council, asked them to pass a law to control house rents. The government then passed a law which prevented landlords from raising the house rents.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Eunos Abdullah, another non-official member of the Council, asked the government to improve the living conditions of the Malays. In response to this, the government set aside a very large peiece of land for a Malay settlement called &lt;i&gt;Kampung Melayu&lt;/i&gt;. This is important as the land provided low-cost housing and allowed the Malays to grow vegetables and fruits, and rear animals for a living.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;However, not all non-officials looked after the welfare of the people. For example, Dr Lim Boon Keng wanted to ban opium. This meant that the government would lose a source of income from the tax on opium. The Governer suggested taxing the people's income to make up for the laws, but the main group of people affected would be the merchants, so they opposed this, and in the end, opium was not banned.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;When the merchants asked the British to increase the number of non-officials in the Legislative Council, they did it slowly. In 1824, the number of non-officials in the Legislative Council was equal to that of the officials.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Asian influence in government was still limited as the Governer had the right to veto whatever decision made by the Legislative Council. The people still did not have the right to choose who they wanted in the government.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Chapter 9&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;color:#33cc00;"&gt;(Decided to changed the font colour...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;The government in 1928 changed from the one from 1867 to 1924. In 1928, the system of government was like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;The British Colonial Office in London was still at the top, the Governer was still the most important person in the settlements and the Executive Council was still made up of British officials, however now, the Legislative Council was made up of 9 nominated British officials, and 13 non-officials. Of these 13, 4 were nominated by the Governer, 3 were chosen by the European, Chinese and Indian Chambers of Commerce and 6 were elected by the people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;In the &lt;b&gt;1928&lt;/b&gt; elections, only 13, 800 people took part in the election, as there were 200, 000 people in Singapore who were not able to take part as they were not Singapore citizens.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;The &lt;b&gt;Singapore Progressive Party ( SPP )&lt;/b&gt; took part. The SPP was formed in 1927, and made up of English-educated members. They won 3 of the 6 elected seats. They worked closely with the British to bring certain improvements to the lives of the people. For example, they introduced the Central Provident Fund, to provide financial security for retired workers or workers who are no longer able to work. The SPP believed in working slowly towards more local participation in government. They believed that Singapore was not ready to govern itself, and that there were not enough educated people to run things. Besides, Singapore still had many problems, such lack of housing and jobs, to be solved. Thus they did not press the British for more changes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;The British were also cautious in giving the locals too much power. They still did not want to lose their control over Singapore, which was useful to them as a free port for British goods and as a military base. Futhermore, Singapore's peace and security were still being threatened by the communists. Up to 1924, they did not believe that the people of Singapore were united and loyal enough to Singapore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Then in 1953, the Rendel Commission led by George Rendel was formed to observe the constituition of Singapore. In 1954, the Rendel Commission recommended giving Singapore limited self-government. So, changes were made in the system of goverment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Even though the Governer was still at the top, the Executive Council was now made up of a Chief Minister, 6 local ministers appointed from 25 elected members of the Assembly, and 3 nominated British ministers. The Legislative Council was made up of 25 elected members, 3 nominated British officials, and 4 nominated non-officials. The 6 local ministers controlled &lt;b&gt;Trade and Industry, Housing, Health and Education&lt;/b&gt;, while the 3 ministers controlled &lt;b&gt;Law, Finance, External Affairs, External Defence and Internal Security&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;2 political parties were especially interested-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Ah, forget it. I know I know the rest of it. Bye. I'm going off!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115528286500438891?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115528286500438891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115528286500438891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115528286500438891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115528286500438891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-know-i-know.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115477781258273348</id><published>2006-08-05T04:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-05T04:36:52.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;So here I am at TC, using the computer at Cyber Hub...The keyboard's weird...So if there are spelling mistakes or whatever shit and you think, 'What a terrible speller Yvette is', practise safe sex and go fuck yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;Oops. THe only people who could have possible read my blog are people who know the password, so they wouldn't be saying that Yvette is a terrible speller...RITE? Arh, well. Whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;This keyboard is seriously weird and hard to type with...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;I fnished my DNT project on mechanisms thingy. Yay. I totally forgot about it. Thank god for Jojo. Well, I still have fucking History to study for, so I don't think I'll use the com at all tomorrow. DARN. So I will try and stay up super late to use it...SHIT! There's &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;The 10th Kingdom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/i&gt; tonight at 8 on Hallmark. And what time is it right now, and where am I?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;7.36 PM, and not somewhere which hss cable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! My &lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;The 10th Kingdom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/i&gt;!!!!! It's sych a great show! I wonder what that witch mother-stepmother woman will do to Virginia? And does Wolf realy love Virginia? Mummy said that they ended up together in the end...and married. But Wolf is really funny and cute in an intense creepy wolfish way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;The mouse's funny too. Whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;Going.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#66cccc;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115477781258273348?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115477781258273348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115477781258273348' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115477781258273348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115477781258273348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/08/so-here-i-am-at-tc-using-computer-at.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115467748564481425</id><published>2006-08-04T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-04T00:44:45.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;You know what? My sister, the oh-so brilliant ass, &lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;fucked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt; up the computer. She changed the fucking administrator name to &lt;i&gt;Kan Kum Tong&lt;/i&gt; and every &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;fucking &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;thing, &lt;i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;every &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;fucking &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;little&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, got changed. All the documents, I repeat, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/i&gt; the documents got shifted elsewhere and can only be accessed when we go through a &lt;i&gt;long&lt;/i&gt; process to get it. And somehow, all my stuff in my folder can't be accessed, so I have to download all my songs AGAIN! ARGH!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;Oh, lookie, I used the word &lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;fuck &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;is already used...four times in the first paragraph. The principal wouldn't be happy if she reads this and see that I'm from her school. She gave us a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;fucking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt; stupid lecture today about blogging. As if we didn't hear enough about it in school. Senile bitch. Besides, it's not like we're going to actually &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;listen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/i&gt; to her? My &lt;i&gt;ass&lt;/i&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;I'm adding the script prompt thing to my blog...After all, we can't all be too careful. Vanessa's blog got read by a reporter from the New Paper. She read Van's post about FM2 extorting money from us for the stupid Youth Day collection thing, and wanted her to e-mail her about it! &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;LMFAO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;! God, won't it be a scandal if Van actually replied. There might even a possiblity that FM2 will be fired! Whoot! If only she could be fired...But Van would get into trouble that way...Darn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;Well, gotta go. Going to change the skin again, due to the demands of Char. Happy now? I'm &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;changing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/i&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#cc6600;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115467748564481425?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115467748564481425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115467748564481425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115467748564481425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115467748564481425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/08/you-know-what-my-sister-oh-so.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115434462174054107</id><published>2006-07-31T04:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T04:17:01.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.toxxic.net"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.toxxicglitter2.net/love/024.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.toxxic.net"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.toxxic.net/mini.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;I spent so much time doing a new skin &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;AGAIN &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;that I don't have time left to post. Heh heh. XD&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Anyway, we're having a friendly tomorrow...I'll just be warming the bench again, needless to say. Sigh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Well, going off! Wow! This is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;short&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;. As in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;REALLY SHORT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;. Ah, heck. BYEEEEEEEEEEE~&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115434462174054107?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115434462174054107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115434462174054107' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115434462174054107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115434462174054107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-spent-so-much-time-doing-new-skin.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115415996062384511</id><published>2006-07-29T00:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-29T00:59:20.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;I can only drop a short line...My sis is breathing down my neck and coughing like she is hacking a lung out and my brother is imitating an idiot. Oh, wait. He is ALREADY an idiot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Why is Char so sad? I mean, who else is pissed at you besides me, honey? =D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Cheer up. Gotta go. Still got the freaking DnT study and Science. Fuck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115415996062384511?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115415996062384511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115415996062384511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115415996062384511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115415996062384511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-can-only-drop-short-line.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115407969038782422</id><published>2006-07-28T02:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-28T02:41:30.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3225/3270/1600/3978a.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3225/3270/320/3978a.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc9933;"&gt;I decided to add a picture...Is it &lt;i&gt;purty&lt;/i&gt;? God, I sound like an idiot. Well, whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Jo is sick today, so she did not go for RCY, and we set up our media booth thingy for IPW without her. Damn! I should have approached Theodore! I wanna hear his voice! He's really cute. Seriously. If only I have his pic or something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Anyway, we managed to get people to buy! And Edel bought a $7.90 thing! Yay! &lt;3&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;This skin is quite plain isn't it? But it's a skin that truly &lt;i&gt;mine&lt;/i&gt;, even if the layout codes weren't made by me...But whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Anyway...Gotta go...Work on the sequel of Evil and Weird!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115407969038782422?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115407969038782422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115407969038782422' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115407969038782422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115407969038782422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-decided-to-add-picture.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115391973226054559</id><published>2006-07-26T05:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-26T06:15:32.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#999900;"&gt;You know what? I am not happy. Seriously, I won't deny it this time. I am not &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;happy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;. At first the plan was for us to go along with Edel, Clint, Jolene, etc. to watch &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;The Lakehouse&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;. Then today it appeared that she (Edel) isn't exactly &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;happy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;that we're tagging along. Come to think of it, we invited ourselves along didn't we? So whatever. If we do go, we (Char, Jo and I) said that we'll go separate then.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Then Char had to spring a surprise on me in the form of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Yi Jun and Calvin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;. She just told me while I was eating and attempting to watch TV at the same time. So I wasn't exactly paying attention at that time, however the more I thought about it, the more &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;unhappy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;I felt. I mean, what was I going to say when she told me? "WHAT THE &lt;b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;FUCK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/b&gt;? HOW CAN YOU DO THAT?!" Yeah, right. Besides if she want to ask him along, what can I do? Precisely, &lt;i&gt;nothing&lt;/i&gt;. So if you're reading this, and you think that maybe you would &lt;i&gt;un&lt;/i&gt;invite them just to appease me or whatever, DON'T! I don't give a fucking damn about the movie anymore. You just go ahead and watch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Tam just said that we'll watch it after the exams instead then. And yeah, besides I need to go netball prac and whatever. My mum wouldn't allow anyway. I won't go then. I have decided. What about Prag then? Hm, we'll ask her to watch with us after exams then. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;I don't want to watch a movie with two &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;couples&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;, and if Jo is reading this and thinking 'We're not a couple.' or whatever, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;whatever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/i&gt;. Why did Char have to ask &lt;i&gt;them&lt;/i&gt; along? The reason being that she hardly ever sees him is getting old. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;FAST&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;. I don't give a damn if I sound unreasonable to you. And if Char's going to be pissed at me if she reads this. 'Cos you know, I'm pissed right now too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;I thought that this was going to be a girls' day or whatever. I mean, they are not joined at the hip. For god's sake, they just saw each other &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;today&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;. And Jo can always meet Calvin another time. They have only started talking again today anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;God, whatever. We're, being Tam and I, are going to watch &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;The Lakehouse &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;after exams. So you guys just go on ahead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;WHATEVER&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;PISSED&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115391973226054559?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115391973226054559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115391973226054559' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115391973226054559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115391973226054559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/07/you-know-what-i-am-not-happy.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115348883320818441</id><published>2006-07-21T06:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-21T06:34:23.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333399;"&gt;Well, I decided to post today...Even though I don't have much to talk about...Ah, heck. So today the TK netball 'C' and 'B' div people went to Damai to play a friendly match...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333399;"&gt;At first we played against the people who were not of the main team, and when we did, we did fine the first two quarters...I played. But I sucked, as usual. Duh. What do you expect of the person who's the laziest procastinator on Earth? Yup, that's me. Whatever. We did badly in the thrid quarter. It's because of our fitness. So I guess I had better start going to &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;every&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt; single netball pracise. *Gasp* Can I do it? Stay tune for more!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333399;"&gt;Oh yeah, I'm thinking of adding a wishlist sort of thing for this thing...And a calender, like Jo's, marking all the birthdays. Heh heh. Gonna steal from you, Jojo. :-P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333399;"&gt;We had our oral today. &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;Chinese&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/i&gt; oral. I just know that I'm going to do badly. Seriously. Lim Ah Ber had to prompt me for every sentence! That is so good. &lt;b&gt;Not&lt;/b&gt;. Shit. Fucking shit. DEADEADEADEADEAD. Make sure you guys burn for me hell money to use in my afterlife after I pass on, okay? Jojo, Char, Tam-tam, Praggy and Edel? *Wipes eyes* I'll need it. I heard the netball people say that it's used for CA. But I thought oral is normally for SA only? Ah, well. Either way, it will &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; be good for my grades. DAMN.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333399;"&gt;My Chinese grades, as well as anybody else who has FM2 for a teacher, are going to suffer BIG time. Seriously. When Ah Ber was still teaching us, I might have gotten a B3, A2 at best. But with this stupid fucking potbellied FM2, I'm going to get B4s and C5s. She's seriously a &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc6600;"&gt;MOTHER FUCKER&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/b&gt;. GOD!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333399;"&gt;And tomorrow we have the TK Golden Run. Oh yes. A &lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;Golden &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Run. A freaking 5km run around the effing Bedok Reservior. On a Saturday morning at 7 something. The freaking organisers are inhumane morons. I don't care. I'm going to take a nice leisurely stroll around the 'lake', enjoying the fucking scenery. To hell with the running thing. I don't even want to know the meaning of that word tomorrow. Bleagh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333399;"&gt;Well, be going!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115348883320818441?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115348883320818441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115348883320818441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115348883320818441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115348883320818441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/07/well-i-decided-to-post-today.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115321758776195978</id><published>2006-07-18T02:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T03:13:07.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;First things first. Jo, we can gurantee that the &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#999999;"&gt;same&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;thing will &lt;i&gt;never&lt;/i&gt; happen to you again. We'll see that this &lt;i&gt;Calvin&lt;/i&gt; guy is your kind of guy, okay? Pinkie promise. After all, that &lt;i&gt;Calvin&lt;/i&gt; guy had better trest our dear little Jojo properly, or he'll taste the razor sharpness of out wit and sacarsm. We'll destroy his self-confidence and tear what's left to bits if he hurts you or something. Pinkie promise again! I'm such a great friend! *Hugs self* :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;I skipped netball to study today. I know it's not right. I should be able to strike a balance between my schoolwork and CCA. But hey, I'm as lazy as a...&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;pig&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;Oh, and that counsillor ACTUALLY has a boyfriend! And it's &lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;old&lt;/span&gt; news! Seriously, and our clique didn't know. We're supremely out-dated. Unbelievable actually. How the fuck did she get a boyfriend? Especially one who's 17. WOnder what the guy sees in her...? *Ponders* I know! He must have coerced into it by her! Duh! Why didn't I think of it? No other reason right? You probably think I sound jealous or mean owhatever. But seriously, if you know her, you'll think differently. She &lt;span style="color:#333300;"&gt;SUCKS UP&lt;/span&gt; like a &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;LEECH&lt;/span&gt;. Not only that, she sucks up the &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;vilest &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;teachers, like TM2 and FM2. *Gags* Well, I spammed her blog and stuff. Super fun. Although if she reads this, she'll be sure to guess that I was the one who spammed her blog to the point of her deleting it. But, like I give a fucking damn? OH MY FUCKING GOD! I'm on the counsillor's offical &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;HATE &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;list!...Sure, like I care. I have way better things to do. Like spam her. Heh heh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;Jo asked me what brought about the change in me from &lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Primary&lt;/span&gt; school to &lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;Secondary&lt;/span&gt; school. Now that I think I about it and that fact that I could always express myself better in words that speech, I have to say that it's because I hated TVPS. And if you hate something, you can't exactly relax and be yourself and enjoy yourself can you? And because when I came to Sec school, I will be able to change more easily, especially since the people didn't know you at all, like me. I think I was the only TVPS kid there. The only thing I missed of TVPS was Sammi and the simplicity of Pri school life. Other than that, I pretty much love TK. Really. So actually, Jo, maybe I prefer you guys to the &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#336666;"&gt;one and only &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;friend I had in TVPS? Who knows?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;Later,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115321758776195978?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115321758776195978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115321758776195978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115321758776195978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115321758776195978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/07/first-things-first.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115284818550673562</id><published>2006-07-13T20:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-13T20:36:25.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Well,today's a Friday...and a half-day. What am I doing here at home, typing this right now when I could have time to go out? It &lt;i&gt;probably&lt;/i&gt; has something to do with the lack of social life I have, don't you think? Yeah, &lt;strike&gt;&lt;i&gt;probably&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/strike&gt; definately. God. Let's see what my pals are out doing, shall we? While I'm here, typing this?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Jo: RCY and meeting up with Tam and Dennis later to watch Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man's Chest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Tam: With Dennis right now, and see above.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Char: Heading to Far East Plaza to put sequins on her dance costume.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Prag: Talent Search dance practise and watching POC later with her friend from Hong Kong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;God, and me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Yve: Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zip. Empty. Kosong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Well, I did want some alone time. And I have tons of time to write my stories!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Well, going off now!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115284818550673562?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115284818550673562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115284818550673562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115284818550673562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115284818550673562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/07/welltodays-friday.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115269678134564807</id><published>2006-07-12T01:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T02:34:34.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Today was pretty okay. It was raining this morning so we didn't have PE. Why don't I just skip all the boring stuff and to the ineteresting stuff. Well, at least that was the highlight of my otherwise boring day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;We had Planet Crush instead of the freaking Prise Presentation ceremony. Didn't really give a damn where we went, as long as it's not IPW. So anyway, we learnt about blogs in Planet Crush. We were shown excerpts of three blogs, supposed to classify them in Actors ( attention-seekers, limelight-adorers, etc. ), Backstage Crew ( needs inderstanding, blah, blah, blah ) and Critics ( self-explanotary don't you think? ). So anyway, one of them was XiaXue's blog. I've heard of her before, in the Straits Times. She was classified as &lt;b&gt;bad&lt;/b&gt; and &lt;b&gt;Actor&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Now, I'm not saying that Actors are &lt;i&gt;all&lt;/i&gt; bad. Tam and Char got Actors too, besides was the survey that accurate? Whatever. Anyway, being curious, I came home and checked out XiaXue's blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;The first thing I read was a line of profanities. Not that there's anything particularly wrong with it. I mean, look at my own. Then again, how many readers do I have compared to her 12 000 or whatever? So actually, so what if I swear if only my friends read? Even if I do know it's not &lt;i&gt;right&lt;/i&gt; and we can't be censored on the net or whatever shit. But, considering her amount of readers...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Oh, and. Guess what &lt;i&gt;else&lt;/i&gt; she said? 'What are kids doing on the net?' or whatever. And by kids, she meant 13-year-olds too. Yup, people only a year younger than us and I am myself still 13 considering my birthday is yet to come. WHAT ARE KIDS DOING ON THE NET?! How old does she think we are? 7? Primary 1?! Or is it because she was so old, she saw us little kids? Well, then let's refer to her as Auntie then. What the fuck ( there I go ) does she mean 'what are kids doing on the net?' Are we not allowed to, Auntie? She also said that shouldn't kids be playing marbles. Marbles. Yup, you heard me right. Marbles. Fucking &lt;i&gt;marbles&lt;/i&gt;! Erm, Auntie, in case you are yet to notice, it was probably during &lt;i&gt;your&lt;/i&gt; that kids play marbles. Nowadays, we aren't as backward as you seem to be when you were our age.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;What else? She also said that being ugly is a &lt;i&gt;blessing&lt;/i&gt;. It's a self-proclaimed &lt;b&gt;brilliant&lt;/b&gt; theory of hers. And she goes around giving people ratings. Apparently, according to her, good-looking people can only go for "ugly" people when they are lacking a certain part of their anatomy, thus making them imperfect, like say, oh, a testicle. I think her boyfriend is something wavering between a 4/10 or 5/10. Nothing more than that. Seriously, even if he's a Cacausian, and I happen to think that Cacausians are better than Chinese. Not to mention the fact that I myself am in no position to talk about good looks. So anyway, according to her theory, as people with similar "ratings" tend to settle for each other, she should be a 4/10 too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;A certain M ( who's , shall we say, an outcast ) insulted or offended, I'm not sure of the correct word, Tam. Yeah, as if she's in any position to talk about &lt;i&gt;losers&lt;/i&gt;. I'm a rather sadistic person, I realise. "Bullying" M is fun. Char seems to feel sorry for her. Not that she's this super bitch or whatever, but wasn't she &lt;i&gt;Regina&lt;/i&gt;? If M wasn't this sort of person, maybe she would have at least one friend. She's a tattletale too, and she claimed it to be "right" thing. However &lt;i&gt;could&lt;/i&gt; we forget? M &lt;i&gt;always&lt;/i&gt; sayd the right thing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;Signing off-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115269678134564807?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115269678134564807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115269678134564807' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115269678134564807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115269678134564807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/07/today-was-pretty-okay.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115235136547934586</id><published>2006-07-08T02:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-08T02:36:05.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Okay, I'm stunned rite now. Seriously. WHAT THE FUCK.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;It's no wonder Prag doesn't trust anybody. God.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;It's &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;MY&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115235136547934586?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115235136547934586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115235136547934586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115235136547934586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115235136547934586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/07/okay-im-stunned-rite-now.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115201109476916232</id><published>2006-07-04T03:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T04:05:47.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Okay, I fixed the stupid thing that was wrong with my other skin...And I added that window thingy that pops up when you get to my page too! Yay! And all my links are okay...I can finally link Char. She didn't want me to earlier because her blog was a mess before...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;I like this skin...It's simple and...elegant don't you think? Well, if you don't, too bad! I like it! :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115201109476916232?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115201109476916232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115201109476916232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115201109476916232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115201109476916232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/07/okay-i-fixed-stupid-thing-that-was.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115171535124714430</id><published>2006-06-30T17:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-30T17:55:51.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc9933;"&gt;You know what? It seems like this stupid thing only displays one post of the day...I think...Well, whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115171535124714430?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115171535124714430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115171535124714430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115171535124714430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115171535124714430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/06/you-know-what-it-seems-like-this.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30478784.post-115166546778058531</id><published>2006-06-30T03:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-30T07:36:45.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;I'm so lame, I know...I said that I was off blogging. I hadn't blogged in, like, years practically. But, whatever. Look, I'm bored out of my brains here okay? And I need an outlet to talk to myself without seeming crazy. Seriously. I need to get this conversation to myself out...I'm not making sense. Oh, well. I'm just a weirdo I guess. I don't really give a fucking damn right now. Fuck. Hah. I love how that word just rolls off my tongue like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fuck&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;i&gt;Fuck&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;This page should so be rated PG13. I feel like...I don't know...Weird?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;I'm bored. BOREDBOREDBOREDBORED. I don't fucking know what to do. ARGH. Well, at least a blog GIVES me &lt;i&gt;something&lt;/i&gt; to twist my brain around...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;I like typing...Typing is funnnn...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Crapola! I remembered! My DnT research thingy! Oh, fuck. Ah, heck care lah. I'll just do it tonight or tomorrow. I &lt;i&gt;will&lt;/i&gt;. I will &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; procastinate!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;I think guys look hot in uniform...Tammie thinks that too. She said that she prefers guys in NCC Land, or something like that. There &lt;i&gt;are&lt;/i&gt; quite a number of cute guys in NCC Land...He is in it after all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;I'm going to the SYF thingy tomorrow after all. Have to ask Daddy if he can fetch me and Jo. Making a mental note. Yup. Hopefully, I'm not going to regret this decision to go. Even though that Balwhatever guy said it's going to be hot...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;And we're going to face the fucking &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;sun&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; God, it doesn't make any sense. If there's going to so many of TK supporters there, can't they at least put those schools who sent so many supporters in a &lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;shaded&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt; comfortable place?&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt; Those brainless arseholes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Tom Felton is so &lt;i&gt;fucking&lt;/i&gt; hot. I know, I know. My friends are most probably tired of me saying that. Well, if they're reading this. But this is really not important. I don't give a fuck if nobody reads it. Besides, if nobody reads it, it'll be so much easier to express myself. After all, who would want a repeat of the Edelweiss incident? So it's better if nobody does.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;I'm thristy...Going to get water...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Back and drinking from my water bottle. Realised that I didn't finish that water. Mum's probably going to throw that water away if I don't, so I might as save water and drink it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Just thought of something. Seeing as this is the first entry, and the only reason I'm here is because I don't feel like writing in my stories, the next few entries will probably be few and far apart. Because seriously, who would be interested in reading &lt;i&gt;this&lt;/i&gt;? It's just ramblings of a girl who's &lt;strike&gt;semi-&lt;/strike&gt; retarded caused by extreme boredom. Right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Another random ramble:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;I can't click with the netball people. Seriously. I just can't. Becasue, firstly, I suck balls at the game. I'm not kidding. My throws are about as soft as down, and my throwing &lt;i&gt;and&lt;/i&gt; shooting aims are terrible. I'm most probably aiming for Bok's head instead of the hoop. God. I am so not going to make the team. If I don't, should I quit? But I wanna remain. I wanna lose weight. 'Cos, I &lt;i&gt;need&lt;/i&gt; to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Secondly, what the fuck can I talk to them about? Arina's pretty east to talk to. And Rachel Tay. And Grace. And Jamie. That's it. I look at the others and think,'Just what do they talk about?' I try to talk to them like I do to my own friends, but, yeah. So &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; working. But, whatever. I only see them 3 hours for two days a week during netball practise and occasional snatches during recess or between class. So. No big. I'll juxt hang around like the 'black horse' Jasper had called me once. You have to read between the lines to get the 'black horse' thing, though I feel that it's so blalantly in-your-face obvious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Whatever. I'm off. The fucking thing says that I can only preview my blog with a post. So this is it. Fucking hell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Toodles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"&gt;God, I'm such a &lt;strike&gt;freak&lt;/strike&gt; retard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30478784-115166546778058531?l=a-short-url.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/feeds/115166546778058531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30478784&amp;postID=115166546778058531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115166546778058531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30478784/posts/default/115166546778058531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://a-short-url.blogspot.com/2006/06/im-so-lame-i-know.html' title=''/><author><name>The Bitch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08121940787016808996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-C6Wa3SqJcA8/TYm2heEbWHI/AAAAAAAAAJE/I5NeHQGojDU/s220/182903_1759485180460_1038937475_1980098_6829650_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
