Tuesday, November 2, 2010.
I've got so many things to say. (I think it's a long post)
8:59 PM

But they're so difficult to put them into words.
Alrighty then. I shall start with fear.

I think I did my best for POA today. No point mulling over it, so yeah. My biggest fear has finally come -- in the form of History. Like I said, I have an innate inability to infer, link and explain. And Cambridge/SEAB/MOE decided to make things even more difficult -- introducing...
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don't look away
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You're reaching...
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HYBRID QUESTIONS!

Awesome. Make my life difficult.

By the way, I thought the whole Cambridge-MOE thingy sounded really illegal.

They print on the exam papers this: (Something like that at least)

Ministry of Education, Singapore
in collaboration with
University of Cambridge Local Exams Syndicate


1. "in collaboration" : Sounds like both entities are in cahoots.
2. "Syndicate" : Sounds more like some drug cartel.

Okay UCLES and MOE and SEAB, if you want me to take this down if you ever happen to see it, I gladly will. But just my sixty cents worth.



Back to hybrid questions. They're a pain in the neck. The usual ones can die already. Hybrid questions will dementorize me.


Going on with a rant. Yay -.-


Well I know I can never justify my actions for this. However I still am very annoyed with... your very existence. You are the harbinger of trouble, both physical and mental. Just because your-oh-so-lovely-LCD-monitor is sent for repairs, at my very expense, does not bloody mean that you are allowed to scream that you are given unfair treatment because you see me using the laptop and you aren't able to. I've never explicitly said that you can't use, it's only a password. With a hint somemore. If I were you, I'd hack it. 

Firstly, I wasn't the one to damage your-oh-so-dear-LCD-monitor. It's you yourself. Since I've already oh-so-nicely requested your LCD monitor to be sent for repairs, then patiently wait for it while playing with your darling nail polishes. Too bad the people there can't permanently nurse your dear monitor to good health, so wait for it. And again, too bad that you're having your holiday.

I know I'm not really supposed to use the monitor at this time, but I don't really care.
(Just wait till January I receive the results... and petrification at the same time. Gah-rent-teh you'll be really happy.)

Secondly, since I've already emailed them to send it for repairs, and no choice they take more than a week to repair it right? You want to know when it'll come back. Then ask it yourself. You aren't born dumb (in both sense) so I really suppose you can DIY. Just go get the invoice on my table, call and ask politely, and HEY PRESTO! You've unlocked an achievement! -Making a polite call to someone-

I did the email for you because you don't have access to a computer. However you have ready access to a telephone, and for goodness' sake, they can never put Colour-Me-Ringtones like this:

"Stop callin', stop callin',
I don't wanna think anymore!
I left my head and my heart on the dance floor.
Stop callin', stop callin',
I don't wanna talk anymore!
I left my head and my heart on the dance floor.

Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh
Stop telephonin' me!
Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh
I'm busy!
Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh
Stop telephonin' me!
Eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh"
(Don't suppose you live at the bottom of the well, it's Lady Gaga's Telephone if you really didn't know)



No they don't do that. So you have no excuse to not to do it yourself. How are you going to be independent if you don't do such things. Are you going to hesitate and not call the ambulance if someone got banged by a lorry and you're the only sane person there? Are you going to make that incident taint your conscience because you can't speak politely?

Plus: You have more than one phone. Take your pick.


Third thought of the day: The bus.

You know, I think I should, really, set up this thing called...


Campaign to Allow Fatties to Travel Happily on Buses (Along With Everyone Else!)

or CAFTHOB(AWEE!)
or pronounced as cuff-thob-ah-wee!. Exclamation tone included.

Okay anywaaaaay. Fatties like me have a bad time on buses, especially... you know... the peak hours.

Let me illustrate (in words) several scenarios that happen to me.

Scenario 1:
The bus is bloody full, and packed like sardines. My big bag and I getting looks from everyone. I do not know why, but yeah. Thing is, I'm not even sitting down. I'm standing, unsteadily on the bus.


My really awesome reaction:
I know I am really cute, pretty, gorgeous, awesome like any other female Mediacorp star. (Okay I'm just kidding.) I know I am FAT. Don't have to look at me like that. I am not thaaaaaaat stupid you know. Maybe you are, but I don't think I am. Why, fat people cannot have fat bag is it? Later I bring some small bag you all say I act cute. Weirdos.



Scenario 2:
The bus, is full again. I have or may not have my big bag with me. Then because I'm like alighting in 3-4 stops I don't really want to move to the back. (Lest you all give me jealous looks again, muahaha.) So I stand near the exit. When people alight, I try to allow people to move. But people at the back seems to be oblivious to this and stays put. I get stares from those alighters and it's my fat fault again.

My really godly reaction:
You all have eyes, you all see I'm fat. Let me stand near the exit, at the "pocket" where standing passengers are supposed to stand can? 


Scenario 3:
I wear my uniform. Deyi is fast approaching. Some dumbo chooses to sit beside me when there are empty seats available.

My really _________ answer:
Can't YOU see my school? I suppose you take the bus usually right -.- Then you should know. Now GTFO and go get another seat. >:{

There are many other scenarios, but I'm too lazy to think. I'm oh-so-going to flunk History paper tomorrow man. Argh.

Oh. The best way to allow fatties to travel happily -- just give up your seat. Now everyone's happy. Or maybe they should make a special coloured seat... say...  BLACK for fatties. Then the greens are for senior citizens right? Yeah MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE BWAHAHAHAHA.



Even Mum asked me. What happened? It was inexplicable.