Butler : Master Wong, it's already 9 in the morning, and you'd best wake up now if you want to catch the last of the Americans raiding the Razorfen Downs if you want that Icemetal Barbarute.
Me : Damn, my head is killing me...
Butler : That's because you allowed yourself to be spun multiple times at a high speed on a playground ride last night sir.
Me : Explains wh- Wait, when did I get a butler?
Butler : I'm a figment of your imagination, just like your army of psychic monkeys. Which I'll have to go out and feed in a while.
Me : What happened last night again? I mean, I remember a few snatches now and then of a burning fire...
Butler : Ah yes, you went on for a barbeque sir. With the Creative Writing Circle, and some honourary members.
Me : What honourary members...erm...what is your name anyway?
Butler : Butler, Master Wong. Maximilian Butler.
Me : Geez, I am unimaginative. Anyway, who were those honourary members you were talking about.
Butler : Mr Yeak and Miss Lee.
Me : Butler, I appreciate your strict British adherence to protocol, but we're in Singapore, I can haz first names plz?
Butler : Mr Seth and Miss Jacinta
Me : Seth I remember, but who's Jacinta?
Butler : The lady with the lighter Master Wong. Your long suffering bridge partner.
Me : No bells Butler.
Butler : Do you recall a particularly well-endow-
Me : Ah yes, Jacinta! Delightful girl, that one. Attempted to bludgeon me to death with an Andrei Arsharvin water bottle during the bridge game after I failed to realize she was my partner. Multiple times.
Butler : An agonized glare of pure venom is usually a good clue Master Wong.
Me : Wait, I recall porn somewhere during that game...
Butler : That would be Martin, the movie Miss Wanyu brought sir, not porn.
Me : Don't give me any of your sardonic yet dignified sass Butler! It might as well have been porn!
Butler : As you wish Master Wong. By the way, might I suggest that you wash your hands before you go raiding? The smell of maple bacon is remarkably hard to remove from a keyboard.
Me : Yeah, why do my hands smell so delicious?
Butler : You insisted on roasting your share of the bacon over the open fire sir. With your bare hands. Which I suggest you stop trying to eat.
Me : Fine...(Takes fingers out of mouth) Is that how I got this cut on my hand Butler?
Butler : No sir, you got that trying to retrieve your deodorant can-
Me : Chemical. Flamethrower.
Butler : After Miss Kimberly tricked you into thinking she threw it into the dumpster, and Mr Tim knocked your supporting hand out of the way, causing the lid to crush your left hand. And spill your drink.
Me : Curse you Madame Dictator, you can take away my chemical flamethrower, you can stop me from spelling swear words with the bacon on the grill, but you will never break my spirit!
Butler : In all fairness to Miss Kimberly Master Wong, she did tend to the cut after you hurt yourself.
(Massive crash is heard, followed by the clinking of cutlery)
Butler : Master Wong, please put away the cleaver, I'm certain Miss Kimberly did not attempt to poison you while tending to the wound.
Me : Damn you Tsundere girl. Was there anything I would *want* to remember about last night?
Butler : Plenty Master Wong! Like the doughnuts Miss Lauren brought!
Me : That I pimped up with Jeannel's fudge and the marshmallows Kim wouldn't let me torch! Man, eclairs the first time, now doughnuts. I think I love this girl.
Butler : Then you discovered that the basketball team that Miss Sarah plays with is comprised mostly of-
Me : I promised I'd keep that quiet.
Butler : And you won your bet with Mr Aloysious, now that Mr Shirram has confirmed that Mrs-
Me : Classified too Butler.
Butler : As you wish sir.
Me : More importantly Butler, did I get to use my chemical flamethrower? I brought a spare in case Kim took away the first one. Which she did.
Butler : No, fortunately or unfortunately. You proudly declared you were a learning android while brandishing the spare, which rather gave the game away.
Me : Crap...
Butler : If it makes you feel better Master Wong, Miss Jacinta already had run out of lighter fluid by then, so even if you had succeeded in evading Miss Kimberly, it'll have been for nought.
Me : Did me and Tim succeed in sneaking alcohol into the barebeque?
Butler : No Master Wong, you swore abstinence from alcohol of any sort remember?
Me : Only so I can watch other people get drunk and laugh! Which reminds me, did I get to tell the story why I swore abstinence?
Butler : Yes, you did regale them with that tale sir. They especially liked the part where Mr David kicks your friend for throwing up, which caused him to throw up again.
Me : Hehe, awesome then.
(Falls face first on the floor while getting out of bed. Canned laughter is heard)
Me : (Muffled) Just why did I get on that spinny-majiggy thingy again Butler?
Butler : You were on a sugar high from that doughnut you created sir.
Me : (Still muffled) Bugger. It... Did I do anything else stupid while I was high?
Butler : Well, you did insist on somehow inserting fruit bazookas into that new story-creation game the CWC was going to try.
Me : (Muffled) Oh that one! Please tell me I had the presence of mind to approve that. That was a terrific idea.
Butler : I can assure you that you did sir. Right before Miss Wanyu was kind enough to give you a ride home.
Me : (Muffled) Good... Actually Butler, I think I'll lie here a little longer and give Razorfen Down a miss for now, my head still hurts.
Butler : Very well then sir. I'll be off to feed the army then.
Me : (Muffled) Tell General Bubbles to get ready for the invasion of Blizzard headquarters while you're at it. I intend to have a copy of Starcraft 2 for myself, and a few hundred copies to sell on eBay by Saturday.
Butler : As you wish Master Wong.
Wednesday 16 June 2010
Sunday 14 February 2010
I R 18!!!!
Bloggeh is also 3 years old today!
*Blows party streamers*
As of now, there are currently 2 cans worth of Carlsberg circulating around in me, so holding on to my sobriety as I write this will be a problem.
I opened my eyes to, ready to greet the world for the first time at the age of 18. It was going to be an awesome day, with the CWC welcome tea and training after that, with mostly AFKable classes in between. I got out of bed, seeing the first rays of daybreak peeking through my window as they heralded the arrival of the sun as it ascended towards the heavens. Somewhere outside a bird started chirping. And I actually just laid back and watched it, reveling in the beauty of such a spectacle of the natural world.
Before I realized it was almost 7
Which means I got to school late, which means you have to go to detention, unlike SJI where it means reminding the prefects on duty that writing your name down is a waste of valuable energy. Silently cursing my Fat Ninja and No Profile perks for letting me down in my hour of need.
But Fate does pick me up and dust me off once it's done laughing at me (if only to ensure I survive till the next time it's bored). My class brought out a cake for me, which was honestly a pleasant surprise, with Alex (I think) throwing in a couple of marshmellow sticks that 2SB7 was selling. Well, the whole awkwardity thing was still there, but for a while it became comfortable awkward. Don't ask me to explain. It was probably the balloon Alice got me, which floated around my head like my own personal anti-aircraft mine.
I spent the rest of the day getting numerous happy birthdays from just about everyone I met in the hallways (It was probably the balloon), while at the same time thinking about what to do to get out of detention. Bad enough it was a training day, but it was the day of the CWC welcome tea. AND my friggin 18th birthday. I eventually came up with a four-tier plan, complete with three back-ups in case the previous one failed, that even Artemis Fowl would have been proud of.
----
Plan A : Pay someone to pretend to be me since my eZ-link card photo is from Primary 1, so it wouldn't be too hard to pass someone off as me if they checked.
Plan B : Make up a convincing story to get out of jail. (I AM part of the CWC)
Plan C : Leverage on the fact that it was on my birthday to try and get the teacher release me out of pity.
Plan D : Stash my bag somewhere, sign in for detention, pretend to go to the toilet and run for sweet freedom.
----
Unfortunately, I couldn't ask the rugby guys or the CWC people to stand in for me, and that being almost my entire social circle, I was pretty much screwed for A, because everyone else I knew that was not in those two catergories was busy.
Plan B and C crashed immediately upon finding out the detention teacher on duty was the schizo chem teacher lady, who has a black hole where her soul should be, so no story no matter how convincing would work.
Plan D never got implented. It was Sarah's fault mostly. She was hanging on to my iPhone to Facebook, and she got me too interested in what exactly she was trying to hide for me to stash my bag somewhere else, and I only got it back from her when the detention teacher arrived.
So I spent the next hour and a half with CK, who borrowed the first page of my Tutorial 23 to sleep on so he could pretend to be doing work, while exchanging bored glances with Manfred.
Thankfully, schizo lady said because none of us fell asleep, used earphones, talked or played MonsterKill, Governor of Poker, Chess or any sort of app from the Apps Store (because she apparently has tunnel vision), she was going to let us off....10 minutes early.
But it was enough to rush down and get the pizza and my second birthday cake from the CWC, as well as briefly meet the new CWC juniors and watch Jeannel and Sarah fight over my iPhone again to sound their horns on Mousehunt.
After extricating my phone from Sarah (again), I rushed off to training where Rong decided it was time for him to have some fun, so we ran the usual suicides and clotheshangers. As we sat there stretching when we were done, exhausted and possibly in catatonic shock, Rong asked all the birthday boys for the week (Me, Kun and Shafiq) to stand up. And keep their boots on.
He decided that singing Happy Birthday was for faggots, so he ordered the rest of the team to carry all three of us around the track once. So five minutes of much good-natured swearing, countless reminders to lose weight and threats to throw me into the pool, we were headed home.
I sent the balloon up into the night sky. I've always like to give my belongings a Viking funeral, and I simply couldn't bear to just throw the balloon away, since it was losing helium.
Just finished reading all the hilarious birthday posts from everyone.
Winner is still Gerald's post from last year.
"May the skies rain mayonnaise!"
Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to look at the night sky again, this time after the third Carlsberg.
*Blows party streamers*
As of now, there are currently 2 cans worth of Carlsberg circulating around in me, so holding on to my sobriety as I write this will be a problem.
I opened my eyes to, ready to greet the world for the first time at the age of 18. It was going to be an awesome day, with the CWC welcome tea and training after that, with mostly AFKable classes in between. I got out of bed, seeing the first rays of daybreak peeking through my window as they heralded the arrival of the sun as it ascended towards the heavens. Somewhere outside a bird started chirping. And I actually just laid back and watched it, reveling in the beauty of such a spectacle of the natural world.
Before I realized it was almost 7
Which means I got to school late, which means you have to go to detention, unlike SJI where it means reminding the prefects on duty that writing your name down is a waste of valuable energy. Silently cursing my Fat Ninja and No Profile perks for letting me down in my hour of need.
But Fate does pick me up and dust me off once it's done laughing at me (if only to ensure I survive till the next time it's bored). My class brought out a cake for me, which was honestly a pleasant surprise, with Alex (I think) throwing in a couple of marshmellow sticks that 2SB7 was selling. Well, the whole awkwardity thing was still there, but for a while it became comfortable awkward. Don't ask me to explain. It was probably the balloon Alice got me, which floated around my head like my own personal anti-aircraft mine.
I spent the rest of the day getting numerous happy birthdays from just about everyone I met in the hallways (It was probably the balloon), while at the same time thinking about what to do to get out of detention. Bad enough it was a training day, but it was the day of the CWC welcome tea. AND my friggin 18th birthday. I eventually came up with a four-tier plan, complete with three back-ups in case the previous one failed, that even Artemis Fowl would have been proud of.
----
Plan A : Pay someone to pretend to be me since my eZ-link card photo is from Primary 1, so it wouldn't be too hard to pass someone off as me if they checked.
Plan B : Make up a convincing story to get out of jail. (I AM part of the CWC)
Plan C : Leverage on the fact that it was on my birthday to try and get the teacher release me out of pity.
Plan D : Stash my bag somewhere, sign in for detention, pretend to go to the toilet and run for sweet freedom.
----
Unfortunately, I couldn't ask the rugby guys or the CWC people to stand in for me, and that being almost my entire social circle, I was pretty much screwed for A, because everyone else I knew that was not in those two catergories was busy.
Plan B and C crashed immediately upon finding out the detention teacher on duty was the schizo chem teacher lady, who has a black hole where her soul should be, so no story no matter how convincing would work.
Plan D never got implented. It was Sarah's fault mostly. She was hanging on to my iPhone to Facebook, and she got me too interested in what exactly she was trying to hide for me to stash my bag somewhere else, and I only got it back from her when the detention teacher arrived.
So I spent the next hour and a half with CK, who borrowed the first page of my Tutorial 23 to sleep on so he could pretend to be doing work, while exchanging bored glances with Manfred.
Thankfully, schizo lady said because none of us fell asleep, used earphones, talked or played MonsterKill, Governor of Poker, Chess or any sort of app from the Apps Store (because she apparently has tunnel vision), she was going to let us off....10 minutes early.
But it was enough to rush down and get the pizza and my second birthday cake from the CWC, as well as briefly meet the new CWC juniors and watch Jeannel and Sarah fight over my iPhone again to sound their horns on Mousehunt.
After extricating my phone from Sarah (again), I rushed off to training where Rong decided it was time for him to have some fun, so we ran the usual suicides and clotheshangers. As we sat there stretching when we were done, exhausted and possibly in catatonic shock, Rong asked all the birthday boys for the week (Me, Kun and Shafiq) to stand up. And keep their boots on.
He decided that singing Happy Birthday was for faggots, so he ordered the rest of the team to carry all three of us around the track once. So five minutes of much good-natured swearing, countless reminders to lose weight and threats to throw me into the pool, we were headed home.
I sent the balloon up into the night sky. I've always like to give my belongings a Viking funeral, and I simply couldn't bear to just throw the balloon away, since it was losing helium.
Just finished reading all the hilarious birthday posts from everyone.
Winner is still Gerald's post from last year.
"May the skies rain mayonnaise!"
Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to look at the night sky again, this time after the third Carlsberg.
Wednesday 27 January 2010
Argh, Why No Love Mr, Jobs?!??!
The Microsoft gods haven't stopped kicking me in the nuts since I bought my iPhone last week, from the moment I tore the plastic off the box.
Horrified that my hands left smudge trails on the screen, I started to search through the box for the cleaning cloth that was supposed to come with it, only to find it wasn't there, before discovering my USB ports were all full, so I had to spent 5 minutes risking electrocution trying to free up one so I could get it registered and fully activated.
Then I lost my wireless password, prompting another hour or so of trial and error before I finally gave up and called Singtel, with the school's own wireless networks showing me very little love as well, refusing to be in range unless I was standing in the library. And then I couldn't even play Mousehunt with it due to some issues with Safari, causing it to show only a blank screen when I tried to access it during school.
So until Friday I was left with an iPhone that did nothing but ring at inopportune moments when I was trying to get a connection in the library, and cheat at poker. Seriously, it cheats. It pulled out a four of a kind after I bet everything on a full house (At the time of writing, it just deleted my progress in Governor of Poker)
On the bright side, school's turning out to be pretty okay. No more PW, so I end earlier, and coincidentally on the days I don't have training, I haven't fallen behind, done all my homework (ie subjects I care about), while still finding time to play MW2.
Wait, actually, no. Half my good teachers got swapped for terrible ones, and some weird infection is going around the team, which causes odd lumps to start forming on you before they burst on impact and sting like a bitch when exposed to dirt. The new J1's just came in, so the canteen is crowded (more so than usual).
Then again, they haven't realized the library is a good place to crash, so my sanctuary is safe for now.
Horrified that my hands left smudge trails on the screen, I started to search through the box for the cleaning cloth that was supposed to come with it, only to find it wasn't there, before discovering my USB ports were all full, so I had to spent 5 minutes risking electrocution trying to free up one so I could get it registered and fully activated.
Then I lost my wireless password, prompting another hour or so of trial and error before I finally gave up and called Singtel, with the school's own wireless networks showing me very little love as well, refusing to be in range unless I was standing in the library. And then I couldn't even play Mousehunt with it due to some issues with Safari, causing it to show only a blank screen when I tried to access it during school.
So until Friday I was left with an iPhone that did nothing but ring at inopportune moments when I was trying to get a connection in the library, and cheat at poker. Seriously, it cheats. It pulled out a four of a kind after I bet everything on a full house (At the time of writing, it just deleted my progress in Governor of Poker)
On the bright side, school's turning out to be pretty okay. No more PW, so I end earlier, and coincidentally on the days I don't have training, I haven't fallen behind, done all my homework (ie subjects I care about), while still finding time to play MW2.
Wait, actually, no. Half my good teachers got swapped for terrible ones, and some weird infection is going around the team, which causes odd lumps to start forming on you before they burst on impact and sting like a bitch when exposed to dirt. The new J1's just came in, so the canteen is crowded (more so than usual).
Then again, they haven't realized the library is a good place to crash, so my sanctuary is safe for now.
Thursday 31 December 2009
For One More Day
------
Micro : Clear!
*Bzzt*
Micro : Clear!
*Bzzt*
------
Okay, just resurrected my blog. And the title has nothing to do with the fact that it's the last day of 2009.
Two more days actually, since we all stayed over at Sam's place when he got back from Australia.
The usual merry band was supposed to arrive, but I came early, so only Sam Wang had turned up.
Most of us were pretty rusty, having not held a controller in...almost a year in some cases. (Sam forgot how to reload in Gears)
Me and Sam started off trying to finish Overwatch on Veteran level, where one of us rides an A130 while covering the other guy on the ground while he makes his escape.
But we eventually gave up after 20 or so tries, mostly due to our poor coordination as well as the fact that neither of us could resist making the guy on the ground dance with the A130's 40mm grenade launchers.
It all went downhill after that though.
We all trooped to dinner defeated men. Bryant and Sam failed to get anything out of 3 hours playing Spec Ops, Moses and I couldn't find anything we could play together and not get owned at, and Mark was looking for cover after forgetting to bring Bryant's Mirror's Edge, a year after he borrowed it.
Because Mark arrived we had enough people to play Halo 3, which I've gottten pretty good at for no apparent reason, though when we reached Valhalla it all degenerated into Moses trying to run people over with the vehicles and me waiting in the skies with a Banshee and challenging him to a dogfight.
By 1 in the morning however, we hit the same problem we had in the afternoon. We had given up playing Horde mode, Rainbow Six was being uncooperative by not letting us play co-op, while Chris and Moses had to go home because they couldn't stay over. We eventually did something we had sworn we would, but never did during similar sleepovers.
We watched the Futurama movies Sam Wang had been bringing for the last 2 years.
Futurama...I wonder why I never started watching it in the first place, though the movie's liberal use of time travel made the whole story pretty confusing.
I played Dead Space until 5 in the morning when I realized everyone had fallen asleep.
Meaning I was alone, and unlike Isaac, did not posses a plasma cutter, a RiG or hobnailed boots for stepping on necromorphs. Keeping a close watch on any vents in the room I quickly turned off the 360 before hiding under my blanket. With the two cans of Spam I brought but never got a chance to open.
Micro : Clear!
*Bzzt*
Micro : Clear!
*Bzzt*
------
Okay, just resurrected my blog. And the title has nothing to do with the fact that it's the last day of 2009.
Two more days actually, since we all stayed over at Sam's place when he got back from Australia.
The usual merry band was supposed to arrive, but I came early, so only Sam Wang had turned up.
Most of us were pretty rusty, having not held a controller in...almost a year in some cases. (Sam forgot how to reload in Gears)
Me and Sam started off trying to finish Overwatch on Veteran level, where one of us rides an A130 while covering the other guy on the ground while he makes his escape.
But we eventually gave up after 20 or so tries, mostly due to our poor coordination as well as the fact that neither of us could resist making the guy on the ground dance with the A130's 40mm grenade launchers.
It all went downhill after that though.
We all trooped to dinner defeated men. Bryant and Sam failed to get anything out of 3 hours playing Spec Ops, Moses and I couldn't find anything we could play together and not get owned at, and Mark was looking for cover after forgetting to bring Bryant's Mirror's Edge, a year after he borrowed it.
Because Mark arrived we had enough people to play Halo 3, which I've gottten pretty good at for no apparent reason, though when we reached Valhalla it all degenerated into Moses trying to run people over with the vehicles and me waiting in the skies with a Banshee and challenging him to a dogfight.
By 1 in the morning however, we hit the same problem we had in the afternoon. We had given up playing Horde mode, Rainbow Six was being uncooperative by not letting us play co-op, while Chris and Moses had to go home because they couldn't stay over. We eventually did something we had sworn we would, but never did during similar sleepovers.
We watched the Futurama movies Sam Wang had been bringing for the last 2 years.
Futurama...I wonder why I never started watching it in the first place, though the movie's liberal use of time travel made the whole story pretty confusing.
I played Dead Space until 5 in the morning when I realized everyone had fallen asleep.
Meaning I was alone, and unlike Isaac, did not posses a plasma cutter, a RiG or hobnailed boots for stepping on necromorphs. Keeping a close watch on any vents in the room I quickly turned off the 360 before hiding under my blanket. With the two cans of Spam I brought but never got a chance to open.
Saturday 28 November 2009
Mixed Signals
-----
Things to do this holiday
-----
Do my homework, for subjects I consider important anyway (Status : As if)
Get all the Live achievements for RE5 (Status : I HATE Professional mode)
Start my Apothecary fanfic (Status : Well...I decided on his name?)
Revive the Perion series (Status : ERROR-No Necronomicon)
Contact Sam and find out when he's coming back (Status : Bro, have you been trying to call me?)
Become an OGL (Status : I traumatized one of my interviewers for life. What do you think?)
-----
With Project Work over, possibly well done, there was only one thing left. OGL interview. You may have recalled that I hated Orientation, so why would I sign up? Change the system from inside, duh.
Yep, I strolled into the interview room with high on coffee, 3 hours of sleep and adrenaline from sneaking into the hall when it was locked. I went with (After what Zongren told me) the balls-out approach to the OGL interview.
I went in as the Cheng Heng who most commonly appears at during Sam's sleepovers at 3 in the morning. The Cheng Heng that the Cracked.com editorial staff would welcome as a long lost brother. It was an all-or-nothing. The Council would either put me at the top of those shortlisted for OGL, or start calling the police.
I heard no sirens in the distance during the interview, but I'm pretty sure they had a silent alarm under the table.
It was going well at first. They asked me about what I wrote on my application form, as well as what a cacophony was. They liked what they saw on it apparently.
-----
Micro : What my greatest skill will be as an OGL? See, like I wrote on my form, I can see the quiet, silent people. People who go unnoticed. There's bound to be a Hinata Hyuuga or a Nigel No Friends in every group. And I can see them very well, because I was one of them. Still am sometimes. I didn't write that because I overshot the word limit already.
-----
Thine moment of eloquence. Then came thine moment of retard.
Then I shot myself in the foot when said I didn't get along with girls well. Can you blame me?
Crush 1 was a tomboy, and now that I think back, possibly a dyke.
Crush 2 was a girl who liked reading and watching yaoi, and swore celibacy at 14 (I had nothing to do with it. I think)
Crush 3 was a probably the bset looking girl in UWC (And a local to boot), but...wait, you all know how this one ends don't you?
----
Councillor : You know, your OG will definitely have girls, what are you going to do about it?
Micro : Erm...play it by ear I guess, like I have been so far. I mean, it's working isn't it? I haven't had any sexual harassment lawsuits brought against me haven't I?
-----
I will have one soon enough after they asked for a pickup line. A higher up in the Council was definitely smoking something when they thought up that section of the interview.
-----
Coucillor 1 : Think of a pickup line for her (Points at Councillor 2)
Micro : Mi scusi, but what rating are we looking at? M18? NC16? PG13? PG? Or family friendly?
Councillor 1 : R21, hit us with your best.
Micro : Say, you've got 306 bones in your body right?
Councillor 2 : Wasn't it 206?
Micro : I'm a PCME student, don't judge me!
Councillor 2 : Heh, so am I. Anyway, yeah, I've got 206 bones in me.
Micro : Want one more?
------
Zongren said he could hear all 6 of them laughing from outside the classroom. He was telling everyone at training later that I definitely in after that. Of course, he hasn't read the comments from their interview.
They said it was original, but the girl certainly looked shell-shocked. And if I hadn't succeeded in portraying myself as a self-centered, misogynistic amalgam of contradictory traits, I might actually make it.
On to the Count of Monte Cristo then
Due to my organization and coordination skills being close to level one, I confirmed with Tim we'd be going to watch the Count of Monte Cristo on Thursday about....thirty minutes before the show started?
Good thing he lives nearby, otherwise I'd have to spend the entirety of the thing stuck next to a guy created from Shen Shin's DNA (Or vice versa) because Jeannel and Shawn wanted alone time. Instead of stalking Bryant, Sam and myself, he stalks Jeannel and Shawn, instead of obsessing with Space Marines, he obsesses with... Jeannel and Shawn it appears (Tim too...), but the same need to constantly 1-up everyone around him and that low, monotone drone which makes it's entry whenever it's most unexpected and least welcome makes me feel secure putting money on the fact that they were related.
Indi turned up apparently, and I even thought I spotted him, but I couldn't be sure it was him. Turns out it was...
ACSian theatre's Count of Monte Cristo was pretty good this time, without masses leaving at the interval like the Odyssey. Of course, Song and Kun were complaining the words and analogies they used half the time were too chim, but meh, that's ACSian theatre for you.
It took some artistic license and didn't follow the original story to the letter, Danglars and Dante do not die in the original.
The former is starved and humiliated before repenting and being released by the Count, instead of killing himself after losing on the stock market, as Andrew Ong hilariously portrayed. The rest of the bits, not the shooting (though everyone laughed at that anyway because he's so damn funny).
Dante goes off once his revenge is exacted, and presumably goes off to live out the rest of his life in quiet, jewel encrusted opulence while boning his hot Arab slave girl/mistress/prospective wife the whole time. He does not do a partial striptease before leaping to his death in a river in a spectacular finale. Though the all white storm coat did set off a few gaydars, so I guess we can forgive Bryant for throwing it off.
By the way Bryant, Wilson asked you to lay off the steroids. At least that scene allowed me to find out that the stage can lower itself. And there's a door when it's lowered. I didn't even discover that when I snuck into the place myself...
Overall, CMC was pretty good. If it can make me forget that I've spent three hours watching it, it's good.
And they had the good sense to make a wardrobe change, compared to what they were wearing in the posters. It was so weird, me and Damien have decided to make a life-sized copy of it and give it to Bryant on his birthday.
It had a large, puffy bowtie. 'Nuff said.
Sigh, all the melancholy after I watch ACSian theater performance, good as they are. I always wonder why the heck I chose to stick with a rugby team where I'd be lucky to be a regular sub, let alone start. I sometimes wonder if things would be better if I signed up with the drama people.... Too late now to change...
All the things that never happened, and never will be...
Sad blogpost is sad... 8 (
Things to do this holiday
-----
Do my homework, for subjects I consider important anyway (Status : As if)
Get all the Live achievements for RE5 (Status : I HATE Professional mode)
Start my Apothecary fanfic (Status : Well...I decided on his name?)
Revive the Perion series (Status : ERROR-No Necronomicon)
Contact Sam and find out when he's coming back (Status : Bro, have you been trying to call me?)
Become an OGL (Status : I traumatized one of my interviewers for life. What do you think?)
-----
With Project Work over, possibly well done, there was only one thing left. OGL interview. You may have recalled that I hated Orientation, so why would I sign up? Change the system from inside, duh.
Yep, I strolled into the interview room with high on coffee, 3 hours of sleep and adrenaline from sneaking into the hall when it was locked. I went with (After what Zongren told me) the balls-out approach to the OGL interview.
I went in as the Cheng Heng who most commonly appears at during Sam's sleepovers at 3 in the morning. The Cheng Heng that the Cracked.com editorial staff would welcome as a long lost brother. It was an all-or-nothing. The Council would either put me at the top of those shortlisted for OGL, or start calling the police.
I heard no sirens in the distance during the interview, but I'm pretty sure they had a silent alarm under the table.
It was going well at first. They asked me about what I wrote on my application form, as well as what a cacophony was. They liked what they saw on it apparently.
-----
Micro : What my greatest skill will be as an OGL? See, like I wrote on my form, I can see the quiet, silent people. People who go unnoticed. There's bound to be a Hinata Hyuuga or a Nigel No Friends in every group. And I can see them very well, because I was one of them. Still am sometimes. I didn't write that because I overshot the word limit already.
-----
Thine moment of eloquence. Then came thine moment of retard.
Then I shot myself in the foot when said I didn't get along with girls well. Can you blame me?
Crush 1 was a tomboy, and now that I think back, possibly a dyke.
Crush 2 was a girl who liked reading and watching yaoi, and swore celibacy at 14 (I had nothing to do with it. I think)
Crush 3 was a probably the bset looking girl in UWC (And a local to boot), but...wait, you all know how this one ends don't you?
----
Councillor : You know, your OG will definitely have girls, what are you going to do about it?
Micro : Erm...play it by ear I guess, like I have been so far. I mean, it's working isn't it? I haven't had any sexual harassment lawsuits brought against me haven't I?
-----
I will have one soon enough after they asked for a pickup line. A higher up in the Council was definitely smoking something when they thought up that section of the interview.
-----
Coucillor 1 : Think of a pickup line for her (Points at Councillor 2)
Micro : Mi scusi, but what rating are we looking at? M18? NC16? PG13? PG? Or family friendly?
Councillor 1 : R21, hit us with your best.
Micro : Say, you've got 306 bones in your body right?
Councillor 2 : Wasn't it 206?
Micro : I'm a PCME student, don't judge me!
Councillor 2 : Heh, so am I. Anyway, yeah, I've got 206 bones in me.
Micro : Want one more?
------
Zongren said he could hear all 6 of them laughing from outside the classroom. He was telling everyone at training later that I definitely in after that. Of course, he hasn't read the comments from their interview.
They said it was original, but the girl certainly looked shell-shocked. And if I hadn't succeeded in portraying myself as a self-centered, misogynistic amalgam of contradictory traits, I might actually make it.
On to the Count of Monte Cristo then
Due to my organization and coordination skills being close to level one, I confirmed with Tim we'd be going to watch the Count of Monte Cristo on Thursday about....thirty minutes before the show started?
Good thing he lives nearby, otherwise I'd have to spend the entirety of the thing stuck next to a guy created from Shen Shin's DNA (Or vice versa) because Jeannel and Shawn wanted alone time. Instead of stalking Bryant, Sam and myself, he stalks Jeannel and Shawn, instead of obsessing with Space Marines, he obsesses with... Jeannel and Shawn it appears (Tim too...), but the same need to constantly 1-up everyone around him and that low, monotone drone which makes it's entry whenever it's most unexpected and least welcome makes me feel secure putting money on the fact that they were related.
Indi turned up apparently, and I even thought I spotted him, but I couldn't be sure it was him. Turns out it was...
ACSian theatre's Count of Monte Cristo was pretty good this time, without masses leaving at the interval like the Odyssey. Of course, Song and Kun were complaining the words and analogies they used half the time were too chim, but meh, that's ACSian theatre for you.
It took some artistic license and didn't follow the original story to the letter, Danglars and Dante do not die in the original.
The former is starved and humiliated before repenting and being released by the Count, instead of killing himself after losing on the stock market, as Andrew Ong hilariously portrayed. The rest of the bits, not the shooting (though everyone laughed at that anyway because he's so damn funny).
Dante goes off once his revenge is exacted, and presumably goes off to live out the rest of his life in quiet, jewel encrusted opulence while boning his hot Arab slave girl/mistress/prospective wife the whole time. He does not do a partial striptease before leaping to his death in a river in a spectacular finale. Though the all white storm coat did set off a few gaydars, so I guess we can forgive Bryant for throwing it off.
By the way Bryant, Wilson asked you to lay off the steroids. At least that scene allowed me to find out that the stage can lower itself. And there's a door when it's lowered. I didn't even discover that when I snuck into the place myself...
Overall, CMC was pretty good. If it can make me forget that I've spent three hours watching it, it's good.
And they had the good sense to make a wardrobe change, compared to what they were wearing in the posters. It was so weird, me and Damien have decided to make a life-sized copy of it and give it to Bryant on his birthday.
It had a large, puffy bowtie. 'Nuff said.
Sigh, all the melancholy after I watch ACSian theater performance, good as they are. I always wonder why the heck I chose to stick with a rugby team where I'd be lucky to be a regular sub, let alone start. I sometimes wonder if things would be better if I signed up with the drama people.... Too late now to change...
All the things that never happened, and never will be...
Sad blogpost is sad... 8 (
Tuesday 3 November 2009
Just That Bit Closer to Sam Fischer
Instead of falling asleep at the SJI table, I decided to look for more comfortable and quiet lodgings, so I broke into LT1, since the air-con was on there while it was pitch dark.
Wondering where I could buy a pair (trio?) of green-lit goggles to go with my l337 n1nj4 skillz as I lay down in the space below the lecture seats, I drifted off to sleep in the chill air...
Only to be awoken by a "testing, testing" from the speaker system 20 minutes later. Apparently a technician turned up early to test the microphones. Patting myself on the head for having the foresight to stash all my stuff below the chairs as well while picking a row all the way at the back, I lay frozen below the seats until he left before I promptly blew the joint.
The adrenaline rush cancelled the need for any more sleep. Next time, LT4!
Spent most of the day chilling with Shawn and Jeannel in one of computer labs until the final results were released for the whole year. I had a straight flush for my Promotional grades, till moderation came and bumped everything up. So I'm looking at ABCCEE. Not that I'm complaining. Hmm...what can I spell with that?
ABECCE?
CABECE?
Ah screw it, I give up.
The Council found my OGL application form a real hoot apparently, according to Zongren.
Oh yeah, that's right, I applied. Did I ever mention that?
It was a spur of the moment thing, the sort of thing I do when I'm not entirely lucid, but at least this time it didn't result in me clinging onto a rope for dear life 4000 feet above sea level.
A snap decision it was... Chris Khew waiting for me to make up my mind whether to take a form, Kim (and her umbrella, it was raining) impatiently waiting for me to make up my mind...
What disturbs me though, is the fact that the form says "Do not be discouraged by the dedication needed...yada yada yada." It's worrying. When something like that turns up in the official blurbs, well, yeah.
It's like writing "Don't give bungee jumping with nothing but some dubiously withered looking vines just because you might plunge to your most horrible and gruesome death as you are impaled on the jagged rocks below. Like the last fifteen suckers before you."
Wondering where I could buy a pair (trio?) of green-lit goggles to go with my l337 n1nj4 skillz as I lay down in the space below the lecture seats, I drifted off to sleep in the chill air...
Only to be awoken by a "testing, testing" from the speaker system 20 minutes later. Apparently a technician turned up early to test the microphones. Patting myself on the head for having the foresight to stash all my stuff below the chairs as well while picking a row all the way at the back, I lay frozen below the seats until he left before I promptly blew the joint.
The adrenaline rush cancelled the need for any more sleep. Next time, LT4!
Spent most of the day chilling with Shawn and Jeannel in one of computer labs until the final results were released for the whole year. I had a straight flush for my Promotional grades, till moderation came and bumped everything up. So I'm looking at ABCCEE. Not that I'm complaining. Hmm...what can I spell with that?
ABECCE?
CABECE?
Ah screw it, I give up.
The Council found my OGL application form a real hoot apparently, according to Zongren.
Oh yeah, that's right, I applied. Did I ever mention that?
It was a spur of the moment thing, the sort of thing I do when I'm not entirely lucid, but at least this time it didn't result in me clinging onto a rope for dear life 4000 feet above sea level.
A snap decision it was... Chris Khew waiting for me to make up my mind whether to take a form, Kim (and her umbrella, it was raining) impatiently waiting for me to make up my mind...
What disturbs me though, is the fact that the form says "Do not be discouraged by the dedication needed...yada yada yada." It's worrying. When something like that turns up in the official blurbs, well, yeah.
It's like writing "Don't give bungee jumping with nothing but some dubiously withered looking vines just because you might plunge to your most horrible and gruesome death as you are impaled on the jagged rocks below. Like the last fifteen suckers before you."
Wednesday 21 October 2009
The Bachelor's Life
----
Micro : Dude, Yahtzee is right, Sheva is not African! Listen to that, that's a British accent, right there!
Bryant : No way!
Micro : She sounds just like Mrs Creffield!
Bryant : Sssh! Don't ruin the fantasy!
Micro : Of what? Sheva or Mrs Creffield?
Bryant : What do you think?
Micro : Mrs Creffield it is then
------
Surreal is staggering back to an empty house through the dimly lit streets, bumping into bushes at 5 in the morning after playing Resident Evil 5 with Bryant. And training for 4 hours with the ACSI old boys before that.
Been living the life of a bachelor for the last few days, since my parents and sister are in Vietnam. No limits, a suitable stash of cash, and all the time in the world for weekends. Awesome, is it not, that I beat Majini up with my friends until we both pass out and drop the controllers, thereby activating his OCD and hence our collective common sense?
No, Sir Cliff Richards, you should NOT stay a bachelor boy until your dying day, no matter what your daddy says. Zongren, if you ever read this, listen to Song! Find a nice girl and settle down, because I'd rather be running diamonds than having to do my own laundry or scour my own food...
Which coincidentally, leads to the worst sort of laundry to do (Running diamonds, not finding food, unless it's a really hot day). Not that I'm incapable of doing the said tasks, I'm capable of a lot of things, but really, getting home at 10, proceeding to wash clothes from running diamonds and waiting till 11 to hang them up, then trying to get up before 6 is not possible for this bachelor...
And I've got to babysit my brother. Well, not really, since he's content with watching Naturo from 3 to 10, so it's more like looking after a plant, just keep it watered.
Micro : Dude, Yahtzee is right, Sheva is not African! Listen to that, that's a British accent, right there!
Bryant : No way!
Micro : She sounds just like Mrs Creffield!
Bryant : Sssh! Don't ruin the fantasy!
Micro : Of what? Sheva or Mrs Creffield?
Bryant : What do you think?
Micro : Mrs Creffield it is then
------
Surreal is staggering back to an empty house through the dimly lit streets, bumping into bushes at 5 in the morning after playing Resident Evil 5 with Bryant. And training for 4 hours with the ACSI old boys before that.
Been living the life of a bachelor for the last few days, since my parents and sister are in Vietnam. No limits, a suitable stash of cash, and all the time in the world for weekends. Awesome, is it not, that I beat Majini up with my friends until we both pass out and drop the controllers, thereby activating his OCD and hence our collective common sense?
No, Sir Cliff Richards, you should NOT stay a bachelor boy until your dying day, no matter what your daddy says. Zongren, if you ever read this, listen to Song! Find a nice girl and settle down, because I'd rather be running diamonds than having to do my own laundry or scour my own food...
Which coincidentally, leads to the worst sort of laundry to do (Running diamonds, not finding food, unless it's a really hot day). Not that I'm incapable of doing the said tasks, I'm capable of a lot of things, but really, getting home at 10, proceeding to wash clothes from running diamonds and waiting till 11 to hang them up, then trying to get up before 6 is not possible for this bachelor...
And I've got to babysit my brother. Well, not really, since he's content with watching Naturo from 3 to 10, so it's more like looking after a plant, just keep it watered.
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