-Green Bunnies-

This was sent to me by a friend, one who's come to me for help on numerous occasions.
The more I read this, the more I found myself identifying with the kind of guy described in the rant.
I hate to blow my own trumpet, but I always try my best to be nice, help people and offer advice and consolation to whoever needs it. Truth is, nice guys finish last.
I think I need the help most -- I've never even been attached. That says a lot in itself.
I could probably say the same for a small number of my friends, too. Any girl out there want to get to know a nice guy? I could probably introduce a few.
Apologies to the Wharton Undergraduate Journal and Jen Fu-Zu for nicking this.

Ode to the Nice Guys
This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores.

This is in honour of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honour of the guys with open minds,with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honour of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favour cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warmbody for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathise and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realise they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys.You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker fora pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

Fu-zu Jen, SEAS/WH, 2003

-help help the sky is falling!-

THEY SACKED ROBBO!

They sacked Sir Bobby Robson! No one sacks Sir Bobby Robson! This is preposterous! Not that he was doing such a brilliant job, but the audacity!

Plagiarised off www.soccernet.com:
"Today's news brings a dramatic conclusion to an eventful few months on Tyneside which has seen one of the country's most newsworthy clubs excel itself.
First there was skipper Alan Shearer's warning in the wake of Patrick Kluivert's arrival that he would not be prepared to sit on the bench, and then came Robson's insistence that he had no idea that his current contract would be his last.
A bout of highly-contagious conjunctivitis, which forced the Magpies to close their training headquarters on the eve of the new season, blurred the vision further, although it was midfielder Kieron Dyer's refusal to play on the right side of midfield in the opening day fixture at Middlesbrough which hit the headlines next.
Dyer's subsequent apology after being booed while on England duty at St James' Park did little to ease the tension, but there were bigger stories to come.
Jonathan Woodgate's shock departure for Real Madrid and the club's subsequent bids for Wayne Rooney left fans shellshocked, and striker Craig Bellamy added fuel to the fire when he suggested he would have to consider his options if Rooney were to arrive, later admitting he had spoken in haste and re-asserting his commitment.
But Robson's departure after a series of indifferent results - draws against Middlesbrough and Norwich in games which had already been won and defeats by Tottenham and Villa - became inevitable, if not the timing of it. "

-Random musings by Prof Jonathan Ng, PhD, MSc, D.U.M.B.A.S.S.-

.:There isn't the word IRREGARDLESS in the English language. It irks me no end:.

.:There is only ONE ALPHABET in the English language as well. There are, however, 26 LETTERS in said alphabet. So there's no 'there are 5 alphabets in my name', etc etc:.

enough pedantism. back to stuff that amuses me. and you.

.:The greatest ignominy you'll ever have to swallow down is being offered a seat on the bus:.

.:When you're being brutally honest, aren't you being honestly brutal?:.

.:Can you be down-to-earth, and yet over-ambitious? Delicate balance here:.

.:Would you rather be drowned, frozen, beaten or burnt to death?:.

-Oh, the sentimentality-

I know it's harsh. I know I'm heartless and cynical. I know they probably already know this.
But come on, freshies! Nothing is permanent! You couldn't have believed that you'd be hanging on to all your friends for ever and ever and ever....

I hear about the way you're all so absolutely crestfallen that you won't be seeing your friends for a year. Well my heart bleeds. Friends are not a limited commodity, young grasshoppers.

Sooner or later you're going to make new friends, foster new relations. You're going to want to hang on to them and imagine you'll be together for ever and ever and ever. And the old friends? Some - most - you'll ditch. Others? You'll continue to keep in touch with them. And then you know which ones mean anything to you. It's a natural process of selection and filtering. It's cause for celebration.

Goodbye's hardly ever forever. It's just a temporary parting anyway. On a more positive note, psyche yourself up to meet new people, cos there are going to be plenty.

I've lost all memory of when and how I ever got this cynical. Or have I just seen the light? No, it's cynical.

-Of massive cakes and tram conductors-

One day I woke up in the morning and everything had changed. Everything was different. I was in a New Place. I didn't know why so I went to ask my father but he wasn't around, he was likely to be working. So I went to ask my mother and apparently I was in somewhere called Melbourne, somehow.

My sister was there, too. She seemed to be very familiar with The New Place, and showed us around. While I was wondering how she knew everything, I saw big cakes and little moustachy men from Italy and Greece. I saw a big big market and I saw people who resembled us a lot at every corner. I got scared and thought the people from China had come to attack.

And then another day I went to this Big School (it's called a u-ni-ver-si-ty) and saw some familiar faces. My friend called Jiaming showed me the Big School where she read books and listened to Big People talk, and introduced me to more Italians and their food. Yummy.

And then yesterday my sister brought me to the beach where there was a lot of sand and many fat people showing too much of their skin. She and I also put on wheels and went 'blading'. Actually, she went 'blading' and I went 'falling'. Being tall is not always fun.

In between, my favourite football team got one point out of 6 and I was so happy I cursed in joy. No one ever plays our kind of football here.

-the inner workings of a complex and intricate organisation-

So here's a taste of the emails I send out to our LSESS committee. This one was entitled Pompous Persiflage.

A study of 12 subjects, the results of which are printed in ST102 Exercise Question 4, provides some evidence that dieting reduces mental effectiveness. Finally, it has come to light that the protein diet, its Cambridge counterpart and all those other slavedriving rituals some of us so religiously adhere to could in no small part engender pernicious cranial atrophy and ultimate effeteness.

Herein lies that added incentive you were so desperately searching all these years for to break your resolve and weaken your conviction that eating little can actually make you more attractive (unless, of course, the reason you eat so little is because you're a stingy dump. Hmm... who does that sound like, I wonder). Snap outta that reverie. And those of you who hitherto harboured a tepid interest in following in the shining example of skeletal Calista Flockhart, consider yourself dissuaded. She looks like a shrunken monkey, those types you find in the deep, dank recesses of dubious laboratories, together with victims of Agent Orange.

Consider this polemic a direct affront to the asinine doctrines of dear ol' Dr Robert Atkins. Opt for a less insalubrious predilection. You have been warned.

JB

-10 songs for that Chrismassy feel-

Christmas always held a special place in my heart. I've always loved that warm feeling, always fantasised about snuggling up on an armchair by the fireplace, hot mocha in hand, listening to songs like:

1. Don't know why - Norah Jones
2. What a difference a day makes - Jamie Cullum
3. Cannonball - Damien Rice
4. Breathing - Lifehouse
5. Try - Nelly Furtado
6. I'm with you - Avril Lavigne
7. Mad World - Gary Jules
8. The Joker - Steve Miller Band
9.
10. Hotdog - Limp Bizkit

Ok, so I can only think of 6 good songs. Help me out here. Can think of any other nice songs which wouldn't make you want to throw up by the fireplace? Email me at giggz11@yahoo.com
All suggestions would be appreciated. But don't give me some Blink182 track, much as I like them.

::Damien Rice:: Cannonball

There’s still a little bit of your taste in my mouth
There’s still a little bit of you laced with my doubt
It’s still a little hard to say what's going on

There’s still a little bit of your ghost your witness
There’s still a little bit of your face i haven't kissed
You step a little closer each day
That i can’t say what's going on

Stones taught me to fly
Love, it taught me to lie
Life, it taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall
When you float like a cannonball

There’s still a little bit of your song in my ear
There’s still a little bit of your words I long to hear
You step a little closer to me
So close that I can't see what's going on

Stones taught me to fly
Love, it taught me to lie
Life taught me to die
So it's not hard to fall
When you float like a cannon..
Stones taught me to fly
Love taught me to cry
So come on courage
Teach me to be shy
'Cause it's not hard to fall
And I don't wanna scare her
It's not hard to fall
And I don't wanna lose
It's not hard to grow
When you know that you just don't know why

-Stuff about Jonathan you didn't have or want to know-

Ok, so this may be an information overload. So all of this stuff is self-centred. So don't read it if you're not interested! In the words of Nelly Furtado, If you so low below it why you watchin'?

= He was a GEP. "Ok, ya, I was a GEP. Shoot me. If you ask me, some GEPs just think too damn highly of themselves, that they're elite, when they're really not worth monkey crap. And I think why some Express people don't like GEPs stems from deep-rooted envy."

= He talks to himself sometimes. "What to do? Sometimes no one wants to talk to me what. So I talk to myself lor."

= He's never had a girlfriend. "Aiyah, must talk about this ah? The girls I like, they don't like me. And then all those people who like me all seem damn weird. Simple as that."

= He's never had a boyfriend. "OI! You think what? I gay ah? Ni nao hyah lah!" Ok, our apologies. We're just doing our job and reading off this list of questions, man.

= His family globe-trots. "My father's a pilot, so we get free tickets once a year. and in first class, haha! So I've been to Paris, New York, London, Milan, Rome, Berlin, Beijing, Shanghai, Hong Kong, Melbourne, Switzerland, Turkey, San Francisco, Vancouver, New Zealand, the list goes on. And yet I've never been to Bintan. The other day Huifen was telling me to go to the Club Med there. Apparently it's jumpin'. And now I'm studying in London while my sister's in Melbourne, which is where I'm typing this from. And I'm making it sound as if there're some reporters asking me all this. I bet some people think I'm siao. Guess what. No need to think. I am."

= He's siao. See above.

= He's cynical. "I think some people cannot see the fine line that separates cynical and negative. I'm not negative. Not always, anyway. I am, however, cynical. I do believe in karma and retribution and all, and that in the end things sort themselves out and you shouldn't worry. But I don't believe in love (especially when my friends tell me about it) and all that crap, or that you ultimately reap what you sow, because you don't always get a reward commensurate to what you put in. Man proposes, but Heaven disposes. You can work like a dog, but it doesn't always mean you're going to end up better off than someone else who values leisure more highly than work.
I mean, look, among Jiakai, Chih Yang and I, I think I work the hardest, and yet in the long run, they're going to be these high-flyers, Police Commissioner and Air Force bigwig and all, while I'll just be another face in the crowd. But that's life, you know? Shit happens man."

= He has super-high, almost unreachable, expectations. "I think setting high goals and standards provides the impetus for you to work hard and do your best, and if you are constantly contented with the way you are then there's never going to be any improvement of any form, so you'll just do enough to hit your targets and not any more than that. Maybe this spills over into my life and the way I live it, which kinda provides an explanation for why I've never been attached. As someone told me, I need someone who can impress me, and it takes a helluva lot to impress me. That, and the fact that I'm too hump chee. But I try to be the best I can in every aspect, so I'm harsh on myself too."

= He works like hell. "I think even though you can't guarantee success with hard work, at least you can tell yourself you've done all you can, and you won't live with regrets. I hate 'should-have's and 'if-only's, and try not to live with them. And with such high standards, how not to strive hard? My mum told me: 70 also first, 99 also first, so why work so hard and kill yourself, for what? (sic) Just get 70 can already. But I think that's hogwash. If you aim for 70 and something goes wrong, then you're screwed, right? But I profess to start heeding her advice cos all this work is making me uptight. Maybe next year I'll just take things easy."

= He's uptight. "I'm success-crazy, and all this working hard, setting high expectations and all, it all fits in with the whole character profile, doesn't it?"

= He's superstitious. "Not in the Friday the 13th, black cat way. I'm into the Chinese mumbo-jumbo. No major changes in the 7th Lunar month, no sticking chopsticks into your rice, etc etc. Oh, and I'm into Fengshui too. Whatever it takes to give me luck lah. Hahaha!"

= He's attention-seeking. "Another reason why I work hard, perhaps. So I can stand out a bit. Wait till you hear my secret ambition. Oh no no, it's way too embarassing."

= He loves his football. "But I'm crap at it. I mean really crap. Then again, I never had any ball sense. I can't bounce basketballs. 'nuff said." Our sources tell us he's even uptight about his football.

= He's a picky eater. "I eat a lot, but I don't eat durians, mangosteens, brinjal and chili. And I hate to eat papaya."

= He's 186cm tall. "And to think I was one of the shortest in my class in lower sec! And then after every holiday people would ask me what I ate over the hols cos I'd grown 4 or 5 cm over the hols. It was rather amusing. Oh, are we back to inane, fun questions? Oh, goody."

= He loves cows. "I'm not Hindu or anything, so I don't think cows are sacred or anything like that, just that...ok, never mind."

= He's been a monk before. "Oh yes, I was a monk, but that was way long ago. I actually did it twice, at a Buddhist centre in Geylang, when I was 10 and 11. I went back to school with a shaven head and was understandably the butt of jokes."

= He's helluva corny. "Why did the boy fall off his bike? Cos someone threw a fridge at him. Why couldn't Tommy ride a bicycle? Cos Tommy was a goldfish. What did Batman say to Robin before they got in the batmobile?" Why do you think we even care?

= He listens to music. Not the stuffy kind. "Amazingly, I actually do have some semblance of a life. I listen to pop/rock/alternative/rap, and am into Lifehouse and Maroon 5 and Matchbox 20 at the moment. I do a bit of Chinese as well, the usual suspects like Jay Chou and David Tao and Sun Yanzi. I do detest very hard rock and very black rap/RnB, but Eminem's fine. In fact, I like Eminem."

= He digs women much older than him."Hey! That's a blatant lie! Hey, what the heck, I'm suing this- "

= He never got the last word in this interview cos this reporter didn't let him.

-Wherever you go, the grass will dry up-

Sometimes I feel like
I don't have a partner
Sometimes I feel like
My only friend
Is the city I live in
The City of Angels

Coming home to an empty room has to be the worst feeling in the world.

Ok, I can think of a million things that could be worse. Watching someone die. Failing an examination. Being reprimanded by your superior. Having a pimple outbreak while growing incredibly fat. Being made to eat durians and squished bananas. Sometimes, coming home to a room with someone waiting for you could be cruel and unusual punishment in itself. Just ask Mr Lee down the hallway. Someone told me Mrs Lee used to be quite the hottie. Something tells me that was a long, long, LONG time ago.

Anyway, there are times when I actually do wish I had some sort of a companion overseas. Sure, Jiakai, Chih Yang, et al, are just a phone call away. But it's different when you want to confide in them because they've got their girlfriends (yeah, neither's gay, surprise, surprise) and would probably rather confide in them.

So I end up feeling miserably cold and lonely. Having the heater on doesn't help at all, of course. Sometimes what you need is the human touch, that person there to talk nonsense and have a good time with you to make you feel all warm inside, and to take all the stress away.

Damnit, it's the air here in Melbourne. When the heck did I get this mushy? I'm not a gusher. I am emotionless. not a gusher not a gusher not a gusher not a gusher not a gusher not a gusher not a gusher not a gusher not a gusher not a gusher not a gusher not a gusher not a gusher

-Journal entry by the troubled adolescent Jonathan Ng, 22/08/04-

Today my mother kicked my shin and left a hole in it. You see, she and I share a rather disturbing relationship. Just yesterday, she repeatedly slapped my arm. Admittedly, that was only after I rapped her shoulder with a banana. Anyway, I flung the banana at her in retaliation and she threw it back; this continued for a while, until she struck on an idea, and pounded the banana with her fists before forcibly making me consume it. I had to employ my rudimentary Judo technique on her.

The End.

-JB flies the coop-

Jonathan leaves home for Down Under tonight, much to the delight of the Australian ladies. Below is an excerpt from an online conversation with Peiying, who attempted to enlighten him on the finer points of skirt-chasing.

py says:
but i always believe the more you tell yourself something, the more you're convinced of it.
py says:
That's how guys convince girls to love them
py says:
even if they didn't at first.
py says:
try it!
py says:
on a girl!
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
what, they say: you love me. you love me. you love me. ad nauseum?
py says:
she'll fall for you no problem as long as she's the tomboy type.
py says:
haha no definitely not.
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
then???
py says:
it's called brainwashing. You're PSC. you know.
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
no I don't. edify me.
py says:
she's NOT the tomboy type i mean
py says:
haha. Like, just convince the girl you love her.
py says:
That you're worth being loved
py says:
and boost her ego like nobody's business
py says:
that'll do the trick.
py says:
add in a few flowers, i forgot about that.
py says:
quite impt to score points.
py says:
that you'll love her forever.
py says:
that's very impt whether u mean it or not.
py says:
i realised that
py says:
Girls look for guys who look as though they'll never be attached again after her
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
ahhh
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
this is bloody good advice.
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
can I put it on my blog?
py says:
ie girls want to be the last girl in a guy's life. and guys want to be the first in a girl's life.
py says:
haha r u being sarcastic.
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
no no I'm not
py says:
every girl knows all this stuff
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
I'm serious
py says:
but they still fall for it any way
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
can I put it on my blog?
py says:
haha sure thing
py says:
put anything EXCEPT anything to do with my relationship stuff.
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
hahaha ok ok
py says:
haha and YOU.
py says:
when you find someone you like, or are interested in,
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
yes?
py says:
just show that you like her enough to
py says:
give up some of your pride for her
py says:
eg, chase her openly
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
like what
py says:
like, lemme think
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
but chasing her openly might end up scaring her away
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
happened before, to myself and some frends
py says:
give her a bunch of roses
py says:
mmm if she's the shy shy type then dont lah!
py says:
if she's the shy type
py says:
then what you should do is... lemme think some more.
py says:
be really gentle with her. Do romantic things like leave a note in her bag (which she WILL find)
py says:
haha. Sounds so high school romance
py says:
but most girls fall for it anyway
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
oh no
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
the girl will just bolt
py says:
haha. You think so?
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
cos girls always bolt.
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
especially from ME
py says:
why?
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
cos it's ME
py says:
why do they always bolt?
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
that's why
py says:
no you're wrong..
py says:
you're supposed to go and chase her back
py says:
and show her that she means enough to you for you to give up that pride remember?
py says:
because sometimes (unless she really thinks you're revolting)
py says:
she's doing that to see how much you're willing to give up for her
py says:
and how persistent you will be is sometimes a girl's only way of testing how persistent you will be in the long run.
py says:
whether you will remain faithful to her, instead of giving up the moment she presents an obstacle to you.
py says:
remember that a girl always looks for loyalty in a guy.
py says:
biologically, she needs him to provide for her offspring, to put it crudely.
py says:
her baby'll die if he's not around.
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
haha that's so JC bio
py says:
of course, if she says straight out and looks you in the eye and tells you to bugger off
py says:
then bugger off
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
hhahahahaha
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
ok
py says:
haha. i didn't take JC bio, but see, i know the syllabus by heart man
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
except I bugger off too easily sometimes
py says:
yar. Dont
py says:
Remember that you must show her you're worth it man.
py says:
If you run off, it shows that you don't have enough confidence in yourself too
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
especially cos sometimes the girl might not be very comfortable with you, but just doesn't want to tell you straight, know?
py says:
not enough confidence to chase to the end.
py says:
mmm.
py says:
then ask her if she feels that way.
.JB. and the extroverted hermit says:
and yes, exactly, I DON'T have enuff confidence in myself!
py says:
if u're guessing it.
py says:
yar i know you dont.
py says:
that's why i'm telling u all this.
py says:
i dont have enough confidence in myself too
py says:
but i always tell myself and my friends that self esteem is always one of the key factors to a successful r/ship.
py says:
because you must love yourself first before you can convince someone else to love you.

-Sad Trials of the Invisible Human Shield-

Jonathan was spotted venting his frustration on a hapless, defenceless Super Bishi Bashi machine at a major shopping centre in downtown Singapore today. When queried, the disgruntled 19-year-old refused to comment, merely muttering "these damn dice...." between clenched teeth.

Sources close to him, however, shed some light on his despondency. Apparently, it was at that same building a week ago that he was unwittingly used as a shield of sorts, a screen to protect a close friend of his from the advances of a lusty student from an eminent institution in the States.

The girl in question, according to a close friend, is herself the subject of Jonny Baby's affections. The maligned LSE student, set to start his 2nd year in October, feels very used and, to a certain extent, hurt. To make matters worse, the girl herself recently embarked on a relationship with someone else, news that apparently JB has not yet been informed of, and which is certain to deepen his dejectedness.

Just the tonic he needs as a farewell gift before he jets off to Australia tonight to visit his sister, then.

-The Self-Centred Rantings of The Very Demented Jonny Baby, Vol. 20.08.04-

Ah, that FCUK LSE (which incidentally echoes my sentiments to a T) is finally over comes as a great relief, and undoubtedly brings with it a timely sense of satisfaction. And I can now hop off to Australia free of all reponsibility - just the way I like it.

Maybe it was the infectious enthusiasm of the freshers. Perhaps it was the sessions with the other committee members when we spoke of roosters. Or it could have been the ranking system the other councillors and I devised of the freshers (just the girls, actually). Something came over me those 2 days, a sensation I haven't felt in quite a while. It was, if I could put it this way, a little warm.

No, I didn't pee myself, you idiot. I think I was actually (gasp!) enjoying myself. Perish the thought!

Surprisingly, even the guys, who've been through the army and all, were willing to come out (no, they weren't in the closet) and play. And the girls were, well, girls. Gossiping, screaming a lot, the works.

Yvette, No, Zhjia and (gosh!!!! miracle of miracles!) Huifen didn't just stick to themselves as I'd expected they would, but decided to lower their defences for (albeit a grand total of) 2 days, and interact with the others. Sarah seemed rather dour at first, her face plastered with a perpetual frown. And yet, over time, she appeared to warm to the rest, and I might even have seen her laughing at some point. Curiouser and curiouser.
Of course, Zikang, Andrew, Justin, et al, got along rather well.
Seems this batch might turn out to be a pretty good one after all. None of that whole warring factions bullcrap.

Then again, there were 2 very apparent camps within the camp. While the guy flag was hoisted high on its pedestal, the reclusive girl cabal hid into the shadows and plotted. So I may yet be proven wrong. And conflict is always entertaining for the onlooker. Mwahahaha

Which reminds me, some of these year one girls are lookers!

In keeping with the spirit of blog resurrection, the 3rd post of the day. Must be some kind of a record. Or the ennui's set in.
Nicked this off Carmen(the car door)'s blog. You're supposed to be daring and bold those which apply to you. Sure, like anyone's ever truthful about these things. Everyone ticks the boxes which give you the best score on those self-appraisal things in Cosmopolitan, questionnaires that never quite made sense to me. Then again, not much does these days.

01. When I was younger, I made some bad decisions.

02. I don't watch much T.V these days.

03. I love broccoli.

04. I love sleeping.

05. I have loads of books.

06. I once slept in a toilet.

07. I love playing video games.

08. I adore marijuana.

09. I watch porn movies.

10. I watch "One Tree Hill".

11. I like sharks.

12. I love spiders. (Incidentally, I hate cockroaches)

13. I was born without hair and I still have no hair.

14. I like George W. Bush.

15. People are cool.

16. I have changed mentally over the last year.

17. I have a Toyota and a pool.

18. I have a lot to learn.

19. I carry my knife everywhere with myself.

20. I'm really, really smart. (Which person would bold this? If he did, it'd be ironic, wouldn't it?)

21. I've never broken someone's bones.

22. I have a secret. (Don't we all?)

23. I hate rain.

24. I drink health juice.

25. Punk rock rules.

26. I hate Bill Gates.

27. I love Vietnamese food.

28. I would hate to be famous. (Are you out of your mind? ME?)

29. I am NOT a morning person.

30. I have long hair.

31. I have short hair.

32. I have potential. (Especially when I'm at a high point. And then when I roll down I have kinetic)

33. I'm pure Afghan.

34. My legs are two different sizes.

35. I have a long lost twin.

36. I wear those long ass socks.

37. I can roll my tongue.

38. I like the way that I look.

39. I'm obsessed with Italian food.

40. I know how to French braid.

41. I can be pessimistic or optimistic whenever I want.

42. I have a lot of mood swings.

43. I skateboard/snowboard.

44. I think that skateboarders are HOT. (maybe only when they're outdoors and in the sun. Indoor skateboarding is cool cos there's air-conditioning)

45. I'm in a band.

46. I have talent. (I just haven't found it yet)

47. I'm always hyper no matter how much sugar I have.

48. I think that I'm popular. (Sure, and I'm pure Afghan. :P)

49. I am currently single.

50. I can't swim.

51. My favorite color is either pink, black or white.

52. I practically live in sweatshirts.

53. I love to shop.

54. I would classify myself as either punk or goth.

55. I would classify myself as ghetto.

56. I'm a prep, shop at Abercrombie, AE, FCUK, and ADMIT IT.

57. I'm obsessed with my Xanga or LiveJournal.

58. I don't hate anyone. (oooohhhhhhhh suuuuuuuuure.)

59. I know how to square dance.

60. I have seen all 3 Lord of The Ring movies at least 10 times each.

61. I'm completely embarrassed to be seen with my mom.

62. I have a cell phone.

63. I believe in God.

64. I watch MTV on a daily basis.

65. I know how to play the tuba.

66. I need coffee to live.

67. I have had a boyfriend before. (er... disturbing.)

68. I've rejected someone before.

69. I currently like someone and they have no idea that I like them. (I think)

70. I have no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life.

71. I want to have kids when i'm older.

72. I have changed a diaper before.

73. I've called the cops on a friend before.

74. I bite my nails.

75. I am a member of the Hilary Duff club.

76. I'm not allergic to anything. (Unless you include hot girls.)

77. I love Broadway plays, and have been to at least 3.

78. I have no idea who the 38th president was.

79. I plan on seeing Mary Kate and Ashley's new movie.

80. I am completely shy around the opposite sex.

81. I'm online 24/7.

82. I have at least 25 away messages saved.

83. I have tried alcohol or drugs at a party. (You can't have studied in the UK and not drunk alcohol. But drugs? I'm hedonistic, not completely retarded)

84. I loved Rush Hour.

85. I've read all of the Harry Potter trilogy.

86. If I were a dwarf, I would be Dopey.

87. When I was a kid, I played with G.I. Joe.

88. I don't mind country music.

89. I would die for my friends.

90. I think that Juicy Fruit is the best type of gum.

91. I watch soap operas whenever I can.

92. I'm obsessive and paranoid and extremely jumpy.

93. I would love to be Demi Moore because Ashton Kutcher is a major hottie.

94. I love the Beatles.. they're classic.

95. I know all the words to 'I'm a Barbie Girl'. (yes. my head couldn't be any lower right now)

96. Halloween is awesome because you get free candy.

97. I watch Spongebob Squarepants and I like it.

98. I have to fart.

99. I want this damned thing to be over.

100. I'm happy. (Once again, ME?!?!?!)

Me on a good day 

-Disclaimer: Potentially offensive material soon to be revealed. Actually, that's just the bits we were allowed to publish. It's more an update on Jonny Baby's life this past year. Cover your eyes if you're squeamish-

12 Sept 2003? It's been almost a year since I last posted something on this dusty chalkboard! Ah what the hell, life's short and time passes before your eyes like an insane Hungarian with his first set of wheels. Tough. Get used to it.

Right, I'd say it began when Jonathan got a PSC scholarship to go read Economics in the UK. And thus was written the first chapter in The Great Travails of The Intrepid Jonny Baby. Or The Bedtime Story Your Parents Threatened You With If You Didn't Just Shut Up And Go To Sleep.

Actually it all began much earlier, but no one likes a longwinded storyteller. Economics, you say with mild disbelief. Economics, having been a trip science student at JC. Yes, Economics.
You see, Jonathan had always been a very filial son. So when his mother said go do Medicine in NUS you lazy rat's ass he said ok, I'll go do Economics at the LSE.

And he did.

But before we get to that I should probably tell you about the amazing (you'll see why much later on in this story) Stephanie, that chick PSC hooked him up with so she could sell him books and other stuff. Of course, he never got to meet her till he got to London cos she was in Cambodia building houses for little-children-with-no-houses and rich-buggers-who-didn't-need-them-but-demanded-them-for-the-thrill-of-it. But then again, that's a different story. Shan't bother with that now.

So then he just up and left to start a new life, not unlike when the early settlers nobly floated onto Nanyang with no passports, no permission and no hope. Look how they turned out.

Within 2 weeks of arriving at the LSE, he somehow got thrust into the position of LSE Singapore Society President. How the hell that happened is like quantum physics. Or women. Essentially, something he'll never quite understand.
And then he became more familiar with chaps like Jiakai and Chih Yang. And he thought it was all going to be all right. Until they both found girls and he was left alone. Dammit.

Not to be outdone, he managed to seek solace in the comfort of the likes of Hazel and Xianna. But all that was only temporary. Oh, and he almost got together with this HK chick. But he soon realised even Scrubs and That 70s Show were far more interesting than her. Then again, so was watching grass grow.

During the reign of Jonathan the Wise, all was peaceful within the ranks of the LSESS. He presided with an iron fist and a level head. The iron fist cost 4.95 pounds at Sainsbury's; the level head was a birth defect.

Before he knew it, it was Easter. Yes, that time of year when industrious students everywhere prepare for the exams, in between searching for the giant bunny which gave them giant nightmares when they were children, for the mere purpose of beating it over the head repeatedly with a stick. These people who create myths and legends for children should really think about writing some which aren't half-disturbing. Gigantic bunnies that go around hiding eggs. Fat blokes who heave and wheeze down chimneys just to surreptitiously plant oversized presents in tiny socks. Minuscule (and possibly frightening) beings which for some twisted reason offer cold, hard cash in exchange for smelly oral extracts. Go figure.
Still, our Jonathan managed to find the time of day to take a one-week vacation to Berlin while everyone else was swotting away.

One year's time at the LSE culminated in the final-year exams for him. But like every good student who's done all his work and amply prepared himself, Jonathan was shitting bricks at the end of the Easter holidays. So who should he turn to for help but the only person he knew was reliable enough, work-wise. The amazing (we promised to spill) Stephanie who, after he'd learnt had got four firsts and an illogically high average of 91 in her first year, he'd been in awe of all year and who he'd set as his benchmark.

So with the new-found confidence he'd been instilled with, he bravely strutted forth with the sort of confidence that'd have made a peacock blush. And he came out about as delighted as a death-row inmate.
But for some strange reason he managed to get 4 firsts and a now logically attainable average of 91. The powers that be (i.e. LSE markers) work in very strange ways.

Oh, and after the exams he decided to perpetuate his hedonistic ways, and what better way than to take a 15-day Italian sojourn?
Satisfied with his time on the European continent, he decided to return home (to the relief of the Europeans and chagrin of the Singaporeans) just in time to send his sister Veronica off to cold and bitter Australia. Pretty much like in the old days, when naughty little men who didn't behave themselves were sent Down Under. Some actually came back.

So he divested his attention to the cute freshers. And by cute I mean the girls. I hope. (His lack of a girlfriend has troubled many for years, you see. He claims vehemently he's all man. But you can never be too sure with people these days.)

And thus concluded the first year at the LSE for the wonderful Jonny Baby. Stay tuned for updates.