Friday, April 27, 2007

Because I'm a Youth



- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Social issues You a parking Ticket

I see the world the way it is,
How pigs don't fly and canned drinks fizz.

Taught to follow, never to lead.
It's no wonder I've lost my seed.

A drone in life's monotony,
Confess! - I spite authority.

It seemed a smart move - Yes it is!
Except one detail I sorely miss.

Same bozos there- all in plain sight.
Them records determine your birthright.

A degree.

Degree, they say, bring much prowess.
"It is the key to your success."

T'was once a student, now a mug.
Whilst longing for that hopeful hug.

This hug, they say, is joy and pride.
From those you know, all coincide.

A social bane in my respect.
Where quizzes gauge the intellect.

Tis' I was taught to learn and know-
For what you reap is what you Cho sow.

*Bury corpses! Plant them, okay?
Reproduction occurs today.*

Wait right there, it's ambiguous,
I hint of no upcoming hearse.

But as of now you're still in luck,
Listen now, start givin' a- GASP!

Got your attention? Then hear me.
'Cos I'm the Youth @ dot Ass Gee.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Oh yeah.
I'm finally in my element.

Time to get downright anal.

Social issues, right.
.
.
.

I'm typing this at 1.37AM in the morning, after five long hours of tech. support. I tell you, long-distance help is as good as no help at all.

This was basically the faeces that I waddled through. Barefooted.

I'll try to complete typing this while not imploding.

Stupidity's a social issue.

.
.
.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Tech. Support: Hello, welcome to Linksys Support! My name is Candy, how may I help you today?

Me: Yeah, hi there. My wireless router doesn't allow me to connect to the internet. I need to know the firmware version that I have to downlo-

Tech. Support Candy: May I have your name?

Me: Er, yeah. Don. So as I was sayi-

Tech. Support Candy: What model of router are you using?

Me: WUSB54G.

Tech. Support Candy: D?

Me: G.

Candy: Z?

Me: No, G. For giraffe. It's the wireless one.

Candy: Excuse me, sir?

Me: G. For Ginko. Girl. Gorilla.

Candy: Oh! G, you mean?

Me: Yes, Geeeee!

Candy: I see, sir.

Me: Now then, I need to know the versi-

Candy: Now sir, may I have your e-mail address and phone number for our records?

Me: Can we do that alittle later? I just need to know whether it is Version 4.2.1.1.0 or-

Candy: Please sir, we need this for verificati-

Me: Ah, alright alright.

.
.
.

Me: Okay, can we finally start now?

Candy: Yes sir, but first I have to check- Are you using a wireless router right now?

Me: ... Yes. I just need to know the firmware and driver's latest ver-

Candy: Okay, can you please go to 'Start' and then 'Run'?

Me: What for?

Candy: You need to type in 'ipconfig' after you run 'cmd'.

Me: No, I've already located the problem, I just need the firmware so I can-

Candy: What is your current IP Address, sir?

Me: I just need to know the current-

Candy: The address, sir?

Me: ......



.
.
.

45 minutes later...

.
.
.

Idiot Candy: Sir, I suggest you uninstall your router software if-

Me: No, I don't NEED to unnistall the rout-

Idiot: Then I suggest you bring in on-site tech support, which will be avail-

Me: I just need the firmware-

Idiot: You don't understand, sir.

Me: No, look. You don't understan-

Idiot: Sir-

Me: VERSION. LATEST. MY MODEL. NOW!



Idiot: I don't understand, sir.

Me: v4.2.1.1.0, is that the latest version? XP-compatible?

Idiot: Your control pan-

Me: NO! Focus! Concentrate! Is it the latest version of the driver?

Idiot: Um, ummm... let me check, sir. Please wait as I put you on hol-

Me: NOOO!!

-puts on hold-

Me: .................................

.
.
.

10 minutes later...

.
.
.

Idiot: The latest version is v420051110 (or something), sir.

Me: Wait.

-Installs new driver and firmware-

*Wireless Network Connection successfully connected.*

Me: Great. It works now.

Idiot: Anything else, sir?

Me: No. I'll be off now. Thanks.

Idiot: Thank you for using Linksys Support. Your case number is-

Me: It's really alright, really.

Idiot: The number is...

.
.
.

Idiot: Okay then, sir. Would you like to verify your particulars once more?

-slams down phone-

Mum( from living room) : BOY! HELP! MY COMPUTER NOW NOT WORKING! DID YOU TOUCH THE INTERNET AGAIN?

Me: I INSTALLED NEW FIRMWARE!

Mum: MY COM DOESN'T WORK NOW!

Me: I DON'T KNOW HOW TO REPAIR LAPTOP CONNECTIONS!

Mum: CALL TECH SUPPORT!

Me: ...

.
.
.

Tech. Support: Hello, welcome to Linksys Support! My name is Candy, how may I help you today?

Me: .........................

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Seriously, people. It's no wonder people like that Cho guy from Virginia Tech. went on a rampage.


I attribute majority due to tech. support.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

But I digress.

Anyway, something pretty amusing happened.

Mother and I was out, apparently just window-shopping and catching up. There were a few beautiful stained-glass windows, and it was more of her catching up to me- I was walking fast.

Alright alright, I won't be lame.

.
.
.

So then, we Mum decided to see a fortune-teller. Ya know, just for the heck of it.

Just for the heck of it? I mean, what the hell were you thinking?

The fortune teller was brief.

Wrote down our birthdates and address, favourite food, exam grades, company name...

Okay okay, so it was just the birthdates.

He looked at Mother's palm first, and I think he could see that I wasn't much of a believer.

Must have been my staring and grunting.

He looks at my Mum's face, then palm, then face again.

"You have had a hard life..."

Wow, genius. Everyone thinks they had a hard life when they were young.

"But it's better now..."

GASP! Maybe it's because of Mum's Louis Vuitton. Ya think?

Mum's supposedly going to live till her 70s. Mum shooed me away for the rest of the information. Boo.

So then, it's my turn in the guillotine.

He looks at my palms, then my face, then my palms again. The incense was surprisingly aromatic.

"Impulsive, needs to control his rage."

Must... Resist... Urge... To... Strangle...

"Miss, is it right that this boy has some trouble with respect?"

"Yeah, very 'no big no small' one."

... I will eat all of you up.

"This boy has strong eyebrows. He has only two paths- Good and Evil."

Duhh! Got third one, meh? Neutral ah?!

"Keep him in the path of good. Don't let him stray," he tells Mother.

And just when I thought that Mother was going to shrug it off as a general remark--

"Yes, I've been doing that all these years. The last fortune-teller-"

Wait, so I already had my fortune told? So that means...

"Try not to enter bodies of water. It is your weakness. Because you're born under fire and metal--" I lost whatever else he was trying to say.

"So what about accidents?" I had to ask. Just in case, you know?

"Your only demise will be water."

Basket, liddat I can drown while drinking, lor.

So, I'm technically invincible, la.

Alot of other hoo-haa about my other stuff. I refused to hear when I'll get married, or the best age, whatever.

It kinda ruins the whole element of surprise Life throws at you.

So then we said our 'thanks' and my 'oh gawd, it's over? Already?'s .

Oh yeah.



Just... Just thanks. Yeah. Really.

But then his parting words struck me hard.

"Boy, you'll do very well in the government sector if you study hard and go there. It would most probably be your best choice of job."

Actually, it was more of "Xiao di di, du hao shu, qu zuo zheng fu. Ni you ben shi sheng gao zhi. Ran hou chong na li da shuan. Ru guo ni yi bi ye qiu cheng le sheng yi, hui hen rong yi shi bai."

Literal Translation- Little Boy, study book good, go do gahmen. You can get promoted. Then you decide from there. You'll fail if you start a business right out of graduation.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ouch.

There goes my (non-existant) hope and dreams of being a businessman.

But politics?

It's not like I can beat the Power of Three right now.

Maybe I'll just be content being a Durian and earn peanuts.

.
.
.

Depressing news, really.

MRT suicides have increased two-fold over the past decade; Latest one in Clementi, somemore.

It's not the suicides I'm worried about- It's more of the poor auntie or uncle that has to clean up that mess.

Oei, if you want to commit suicide, be considerate and do it privately, la.

It's bad enough that you threw your life away- Auntie has to spool away those pools of blood after it has coagulated. The police would investigate it, somemore. Waste of taxpayers' money, and poor Auntie!

What's worse- Your severed spleen may short the system and cause a MRT accident. Promotion offer, ah? 200 deaths for the price of 1?

Then poor Auntie has more to clean up.

She might as well be livin' under that public assistance. (It has been increased a friggin' $30! Woo!)

After all,

"We will look after the less educated and the elderly who have helped build Singapore."

Gahmen very considerate.

Considerate enough to eliminate corruption, too!

Who knew peanuts could have so much potential?



Careful though. Peanuts can give you a shitty day.

No wonder kind sir Lee gave up his peanut for the masses.

As a drone, I believe it is NOT 'obstentatious generosity' as what good sir V. Bala has said.

.
.
.

Wait, wait. You so happy for what?

All this are in lieu of Means testing in C wards and the 2% raise in GST.

Ya know, to 'narrow the widening income gap'.

Cleaning lady auntie would be so proud.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Social issues, no?

Cho just murdered 33 people, including himself.

Air strikes by LTTE in India- Cricket World Cup.

Hand, Foot and Mouth disease.

Indonesia bans sand export to Singapore.

Singapore voted 'one of most unfriendly nations' of the world.

Increased MRT suicides.

Call me pessimistic, but this is not boding well.

This is my take on THE social issue.

Everyone's in rush these days, none of them caring for one another.
No one stops anymore to smell the roses.

Anger is now replaced with hatred- And this hatred is strong.
Something's definitely going wrong somewhere.

Somewhere.

It's no longer about 'getting out of her elite uncaring face',
nor the always-increasing water bill.

It's just that-
Life was so much simpler then.

A social issue would be how Ah Huat lost his prized chicken,
Or something.

Everyone would then go look for it,
Find it,
Then eat it.

These days, you can get sued for eating that chicken.
Sure, thanks for the help-
But this is my chicken, paws off.

Okay, so we do have a few good samaritans.
They say one can make a difference.

But don't forget-
Good guys die early.
Assassination, lah.
Or that random maniac with a gun.

We are all killin' ourselves here.
Literally and metaphorically.

Luxuria, Gula, Avaritia, Acedia, Ira, Invidia, Superbia.

Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, Pride.

The capital vices of our misery.

We rack our brains for solutions-
-And Dove starts a campaign to raise self-esteem in litle girls.

Motorola starts its 'RED' movement.
Bill Gates founds twenty charity organization(s).

Multi-national conglomerates with a master plan.
As effective as a kid with a toy hammer wanting to build a HDB flat.

Will they really help?
Or does the root of the problem lie in ourselves?

We wouldn't need solutions if
We didn't have problems in the first place.
I'm not saying 'ignore' it-
But don't trouble trouble unless trouble troubles you.

And don't say you cannot do anything about it.

If the front door closes on you,
Use the back door.

If the back door is guarded by rabies-infected pitbulls,
There's always that choice of bricks-

Throw bricks at the window and climb in,
NOT throw it at the dogs!

Are you mad?

Come now.

We already 'got together and did something'.

But what we really need to do is-

WORK together, and DO something.

I still have hope for a day
The news don't broadcast horrid news.

Maybe that will be a
Happily Never After.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

What?

It's anti-establishment?

No lah, this is just satire.

Don't Gomez send me into exile!

I may be working for you, someday!

Donovan did it again @ 9:13 PM

Thursday, April 19, 2007

Basketball's Demise

"Thank you, dear friend."

So, I lost my basketball.

What else is there to say today?

A 80-dollars Converse tack-soft composite leather basketball.

Which is seasoned. I practically marinated the damn thing!

It's now a pretty shade of marmalade, and VERY soft on the hands. Five hours of basketball, and your hands stay like that of a baby's. Well, only that your hands are five times bigger and, yeah, you get the drift.

Have I mentioned that the ball is also VERY, VERY precious?

My first ever self-seasoned ball. Marinated with concrete and granite.

URGH.

This is such a piss-off.

Oh, right. How it happened?

Playing basketball with the gang, I suppose.

Kenny (even though he denies it totally) took my basketball and proceeded to AND1 Dinosaur or whoever else. I got the guys to look after our balls (oh yes, haha -.-) while I went to get some drinks with some other bugger.

We came back, and I saw my ball being played by some other group of jokers- Which I PRESUMED were the moron friends of, you know, someone in the team. Maybe Jon's- They did say 'hi' to him.

Basic guy instinct- Aiyah, panic for what? Bochup la, not that the ball will get lost.

Well, it did- Because that ball that I was seeing wasn't my ball- It was just the same shade.

FUCK.

So I freaked out a bit, and Kenny and Jarl went to help find the ball.

It must be in the bushes, they say. No way the ball could have been lost.

Yes there is. It's lost, isn't it?

It being 10.30pm at night didn't really help- It was dark like the heart of Bangladesh.

But of course, this isn't that bad- At least the guys were helping. Things were looking up- Until it started to rain.

Hurrah!

Aiyah, screw this.

RIP, Converse.

And fuck the guy that took it.

May you burn in the deepest confines of YOUR hell.

Donovan did it again @ 8:39 AM

Friday, April 13, 2007

Friday the 13th

"Skjbsdgfdfg, dkaskjfngknjfkgjneirurjfahhhAHHHHHHHHH!"

What.

The.

Fuck.

So, it's Friday the thirdteenth today.

Everything was going pretty fine, considering that it was supposed to be a doubly-unlucky day.

Yeah, 'pantang' what. I'm stupidstitious that way.

I don't walk under ladders.
I throw salt over my shoulders whenever I spill some of it, lest el Diaboles gets me.
I place utmost importance upon the numbers '2', '7', and '8'.
I arrange my room according to 'fengshui'.
I sleep without my blanket over my head.
I don't cross my chopsticks when I use it.
I study before a test.

Get my drift?

Still, the sheer existence of logic refutes this... phenomenon.

Okay, so I'm still rambling without EXPLAINING (gawd, one day you people should all just connect to a channel of my mind, where my thoughts shall convey the message), so I'll try to make this as painless as possible.

I saw a fuckin' ghost.

She was by no means fucking, literally (it would have put me off sex for a decade or two if she really was), but hell, it freaked me to no end.

So.

It was Friday, after choir. I went to dinner with the gang, then went home.

Beep, beep. 11pm.

It was almost midnight, so I had better hurry up- The prospect of turning into a pumpkin being the main reason. After missing my stop, I took the other way home, the path behind Rivervale Mall. Normally, this path would be alright- I would be walking past a convent school, for goodness' sake. Major ogling.

Not at 11pm, though. I'm not the type to be afraid of the dark- Little is known whether it's afraid of me, though. The night is just so peaceful- Ludicrious, but I'm one of those weirdos.

I was enjoying a slow stroll past St. Anne's church, enjoying the cool air on my skin-- Till the point when the hairs on my back are standing. Damn static, sia. So I brushed off that static thing off my back for a bit.

Hmph, static in the air? Must be rain soon.

I quickened my steps. It's not healthy getting caught in the rain at night. SYF was coming, too. No way in hell I'm going to get sick before then.

It was hella quiet, though. I just realised there were no vehicles, and that was a T-junction.

I looked up at the lit sign of St. Anne's church- No doubt another horrible pun about the Lord. A slight chuckle escaped- Only to be echoed.

EHHHH, echo?!

It was this very moment that I turned around.

CHEEBYE!

Yes, there was a face behind me. Apparently, it was female. Not disfigured or anything, but it was there. A blue hue surrounded her eyes. There was just something blue. Not green. Blue.

I yelped.

I turned around quickly, blinked a few times, then rubbed my eyes. Must be fatigue, la.

Nevertheless, my pace increased two-fold.

I must be tired, haha. Wow, choir must be taking its toll on me right now, I mean, I couldn't have...

The feeling of static was back.

Oh crap.

Up to this day, I still don't know why or how I managed to garner the strength to look back.


"And it came to pass, when they had brought them forth abroad, that he said, Escape for thy life; look not behind thee, neither stay thou in all the plain; escape to the mountain, lest thou be consumed." - Genesis 19:17

It was a miracle I did not turn into a pillar of salt. At least Lot's wife didn't see what I saw.

Yep, it was still her.

The same face.

And I had to stare into her eyes for just that split second...

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

I turned back again, as my quick steps increased to long strides. Nothing.

There is no abso-fucking-lute way that I could have seen what I did, right?

Right?

So there I was, running into the night, chanting pali scripture at breakneck speed.

I would have founded the Buddhist Olympics, or something. 400-metre sprint; screaming text from the Dhammapada.

Finally, there was the sight of my block of flat. And hey, vehicles!

Calmed down, and dialled any number I remembered at that time, hoping as hell that the person on the other line would pick up.

And by golly, was I lucky.

Thanks.

Still, this is a slight reminder to myself.

There is no fucking thing as ghosts.
There is no fucking thing as ghosts.
There is no fucking thing as ghosts.
There is no fucking thing as ghosts.
There is no fucking thing as ghosts.
There is no fucking thing as ghosts.
There is no fucking thing as ghosts.
There is no fucking thing as ghosts.
There is no fucking thing as ghosts.
There is no fucking thing as ghosts.
There is no fucking thing as ghosts.
There is no fucking thing as ghosts.

There is no fucking thing as ghosts.

Yep, sure isn't.

No such thing.

I'm not walking near that place at night anytime soon.

Oh yeah, happy birthday Adrian.

Donovan did it again @ 10:15 AM

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

What would you do?

"It's funny how love works."

Okay, I admit.

I ripped this off someone else's blog, then cannibalised it.

But hey, this is soooo adorable.

Some things just make your day.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
If you could, what would you do?


If Jack Frost knocked upon your doors,
Give her one of your t-shirts to sleep in.

Hang out with her when she's sad.
Hang out with her no matter what mood she's in.
Kiss her in front of her friends,
then tell her she looks beautiful.

Heck, tell her she looks beautiful anyway.

Look into her eyes when you talk to her,
It's the courteous thing to do.
Then let your eyes do the talking.
Let her mess with your hair.
Mess around with her hair.
But not too much because she'll -thwack- OW!

Forgive her for her mistakes.
If she actually makes any.
Look at her like she's the only girl you see.
Because she's the only girl you have eyes for, anyway.

Tickle her even when she says 'stop'.

But not too much.

Hold her hand when you're around your friends.
It's very sweet.

Tell her you love her when she starts swearing at you.
And then duck for cover.
Let her fall asleep in your arms!
Get her mad, then kiss her.
Get her mad again, she'll kick you.
Tease her, and let her tease you back.
Go on, try it.

Stay up all night with her when she's sick-
Baby girl needs your care.

Watch her favourite movie with her.
A hundred and sixty two times.
Kiss her on the forehead.
Then grin widely.
Give her the world.
Nothing else matters.
Write her letters.
Then keep some of them.
While spamming the rest.
Let her wear your clothes.
Please don't wear hers.
Leave her cute text notes,
especially on doodled post-its.

Hang out with her when she's sad.
Hang out with her no matter what mood she's in.

Let her know she's important.
More important than soccer.
Or Pokemon.
Let her take all the photos she wants of you.
Take one picture of her- That's all you'll ever need.

Kiss her in the pouring rain.
Salty, but sooo worth it.

and
Love her like you've never loved someone before.

What would you do?

Donovan did it again @ 5:50 AM



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Donovan
OLD
24th March
Mugger
Composer
Choir-Boy
Lanky stick
LATIN Dancer
Emcee, Deejay!
Married to Music
Practical Romantic
Theravada Buddhist
Failed Basketballer
Big-ass Teddy Bear

Jack of all Trades
Master of Jack

Rivervale Primary School
Anderson Secondary School
Yishun Junior College
Ngee Ann Polytechnic - FMS
Singapore

Check him out on Facebook.

To know more about Don, click here .

--The stories here revolve about this certain individual called Donovan. Stories are mostly factual. Just ignore the hyperboles.

-I'm back to being personal.

--Donovan likes waffles and red apples.

-

--Posts will not be funny.

-Since you're already reading this excerpt, you might as well read through the archives.

--Donovan may be an unreliable narrator.

-Stories might not be factual.

--I'm repeating myself.

-This site is best viewed in Mozilla Firefox and painstakingly rendered to suit IE7. You like?

--Posts are ALWAYS back-dated, if you haven't noticed. It's called PROCRASTINATION.




Men's Best Friend
I'm Sorry You're Stupid
Do Bovine Fecal Matter?
Facebooking



Mother
The Night to Remember
Full Circle
Checkpoint Pt. 1
Checkpoint Pt. 2



A Letter to Pamela
Counter-Promenade!
A True-Blue Singaporean
An Introduction to Gaming
Econo-Academia




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