Europe, conquered... Maths, vanquished.

Perhaps a tad overdue, but all special things deserves a mention.

Need I say more?

Yes i do want to say more. Many weeks ago, before the final, and knowing Youjin's uncanny inability with betting, I implored him to bet heavy on an AC Milan's victory. "YOUJIN, buy milan leh. Then my Liverpool can win. Buy more please." "Okay. I think milan will win anyway."

Match day. Chuanzhong and talisman youjin were over at my place to catch the game. Within a min, we were a goal down and my heart sank to the groud. Walk On Walk On... By halftime, Milan was up 0-3. I looked at CZ and CZ looked back at me. We looked at the TV and the 40,000 Liverpudlians looked back at us. I then looked towards the east and i could feel the sun saying he will be taking MC at dawn. I felt like beating up youjin.

Second half resumes. In the living room, the general mood of despair overwhelm the money-winning mood 2:1. Then Gerrard flicked a header in. 1:3. A glimmer of hope! "Get another 2 to make it 3:3 and we win on penalties!" I exlaimed hopefully against the reality.

Then 2:3. Vladimir Smicer the forgotten man thumps one home and the fans took the roof off.

Then still 2:3. Gerrard tripped by Gattuso. Penalty. Alonso took it. Dida Saved it. I fell down. Alonso whacked in the rebound. 3:3. I jumped up. CZ jumped up. Youjin sank. 40,000 in Ataturk Stadium jumped up. A few hundred thousands more in Liverpool jumped up. Italy sank.

Injury time. Shevchenko shot from a yard from goal. A few million mouths opened in unison in fear. Dudek saved. The bloody Ukrainian shot again. The Pole saved again. The few million mouths breathed out together once more. Youjin and Italy sank back another inch. 3:3.

Down to the penalty shootout. Serginho missed. Hamann scored. Dudek saved from Pirlo. Ciise scored. Tomasson scored. Riise missed. Kaka scored. Smicer scored. Dudek saved from Shevchenko..... and half the world erupted in wild spontaneous celebrations.

Youjin's betting slip, from looking so smug and safe at half time, now turned into worthless celebratory confetti. What a good friend..

................... take a break ........................

Somewhere else, on a different battleground, yours-truly, the under-dog, the perenially under-performing under-grad, engaged in a failing tussle with Maths, the representative from the over-empowering education structure over a semester-long fight. Make it 2 semesters if the first semester is included, whereupon the hero had skilfully evaded a headfront confrontation by dropping the foreign subject.

The characters and gameplay may differ, but the heroic plots remains. The results are out. A 'D' grade was received, and a D is a pass. The greater evil has been defeated, the nation saved from prolonged slavery and the world rejoices.

So here the hero stands tall, one leg onto the next semester. Despite being totally incapable of integrating or differentiating the simplest form of useless equation, the nightmare has been vanquished.

Maths, I spit on you.

For Liverpool

UEFA Champions League Finals 2004/05

Liverpool vs AC Milan

3-0 down at halftime.

3-3 by the 60th min.

Currently Extra Time.

Liverpool please win. And I'll gladly sacrifice my fuckin Foundation Maths paper.

Thank You.

Weak

Burnt. Scorched. Punctured. Wasted. Crumbled. Weakened.

And that's about as far as I can think right now. Quite a disastrous Sunday Soccer kick-about on a personal level. Haven't felt that weak for a long time. Perhaps I'm sick. Having a mysterious cough.

2 weeks have past by, and the slacking regime will have to stop, before I end up poor, thin and malfunctioning. This week shall be the start of a focused and determined life that would preferably be lived to the fullest. Even the more or less confirmed failure of my maths paper will do nothing to dampen this gung-ho spirit.

Now all i need to do is to sleep and be well rested for the impeding journey, then satisfy my craving for stringray, and start thinking about how not to slack.

The Great Internet Conspiracy Against Me

This blog shouldn't be taking place here at home, tonight.

In the great plan formulated after I woke up at dinner time, post-mahjong-hangover, I'm supposed to be designing my own face for this blog that's gonna take over the blogosphere by storm.

oh dang, i dun feel like writing anymore

End of the world

Did anyone else got spellbound by the trecherous lightnings streaking across our sky moments ago? The electrified atmosphere got lighted up every few seconds, and I was secretly fearing that i would be the next to get lighted up, together with the bus that i was on.

I suppose it would look quite funnie, a smoking bundle of human mess, holding on to a battered copy of Paul Murray's An Evening Of Long Goodbyes.

It's all over now. End of terrifying lightnings, no more rain and clouds, which means tomorrow will be another blazing hot day for soccer.

We seriously got cooked while playing on Friday morning. Could feel the naked skin sizzling under the shade. And ended up taking a cab to a place for lunch which was just a 5min walk away. Under the sun.

A particular bitch

The female assistant at the NTU dental clinic is a bitch. Her fats spill all over her arms and her saliva spews like a broken fountain when she talks. And she has a habit of slamming the phone down without saying a simple 'bye' after calling patients regarding appointments. She must be cheap labour.

I think i'll call back and irritate her for a while before shouting BITCH and slamming the phone down. That should provide entertainment for a couple minutes.

On a different and more polite note, I caught the Israeli film Bonjour Monsieur Shlomi today and I think it's simply brilliant and funnie at the same wonderful moment. The grandfather weaves in and out of the screen, with words that fluctuate between brilliance, predictability and insanity. It also helped that the main love interest looked quite gorgeous and she happened to go topless for a brief second. Charming really.

Seriously, why watch mindless hollywood flicks with the same old familiarly boring plots when there're such other occasional gems to choose from?

Red and Blue

there stood a stalk of
violet in brilliant blue
where tears have dropped
and fallen as dew

a rose in velvety red
the lady accompanies
poised with coiffured petals
oh innocence robbed

Dog-ears of the pages
in the book of love
that wrote in sadness
Of the girl who's red, and blue

Doesn't it irritates you to no end when the urge to shit comes right after you bathe?

while whoring off my talented works on MSN,
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Me says:
what barriers of love
crumbles to ashes
with the touch of the lips

what chills the air
but warms the heart
when love and love entwine

Me says:
now that's not cheesy.. ahha
Me says:
roses are red violets are blue... so cliche

= silly girl = says:
hmm
= silly girl = says:
wads that man?
= silly girl = says:
sounds shakespearean

Me says:
it does?

= silly girl = says:
wOwww
= silly girl = says:
dun tell me YOU wrote it

Me says:
WHAT DO YOU THINK

= silly girl = says:
...
= silly girl = says:
nope?
= silly girl = says:
its shakespeare rite????????

Me says:
???
Me says:
NO
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ahhaha, so I write like shakespeare now. I'm so bloody brilliant.

For Janey, Once upon a time

what barriers of love
crumbles to ashes
with the touch of the lips

what chills the air
but warms the heart
when love and love entwine

From my old diary.. didn't know that i ever wrote it. Little treasures you get, when you revisit the past, from time to time.

Crimson Red

And the sky a crimson red
I hear rain dropping
and feel it wash away
yesterday.