Jane Shall Be.

April 28, 2009



I was just thinking.

It’s the new year. Okay, well, 4 (close to 5) months into the new year, but what does the new year mean to me?

I’ve not been doing anything new, not changing any habits.

Damn, I don’t even have any new year resolutions I want to follow.


So. Am I supposed to be worried?


I’m still looking back into the past, just hoping and waiting for those happy memories to repeat themselves. But ohh no… They can’t. And do you know why? (Of course not. Why am I asking questions? I do not know. Damn, I am talking to myself) Because I am an old hag. I’m old, stressing, doing whatever I am supposed to be doing (besides sex, drugs and god knows what) and still, I don’t get what I am supposed to feel, what I am supposed to enjoy, what I am supposed to think like, do, say.

It’s all a mystery to me.

And yet, I just sit eat shit watch study practice diligently , but what is that purpose of going through every-single-effing-day for? Does it all come back to me or what?

I am well, pretty much underground, happily. I do not do much except to study, practice, laugh a little, dance  a little, study even more, talk, and then it all repeats itself eventually. What do I reap out of that?

Life itself is more than just existing. It’s about, well, living I guess.

Being that shithead I am, I am pretty much not contented with my life. There is drama, chaos, and yet, out of that hellhole, you find your happiness and your security of mind and whatever. But I need so much more than that! 

I mean, don’t you?


And then when I try to live up to people’s fucking high expectations, all I get is some shit attitude back from them who think they are oh-so-diva. 



I am so screwed.


I Like Prawns.

April 26, 2009

zebra-odd-one-out Spot the odd one out!!



Orhkay. I am aching.

Menstruation is such hell. The blood, the mess, everything. Yuck.


I honestly must stop being so open.

I am really open with teachers though. 😀


Me: Mr Lee, I need to go to the toilet please!

Mr Lee: And what if I say no?

Me: Then I’ll pee in my pants.


Me: Mr Jae, I kinda need more tissue you know (Long story. It was during camp and we had our tissue rationed. Weird.)

Mr Jae: Why?

Me: You know, more tissue for bleeding girls..

Mr Jae: Will you stop being so open?!


See what I mean? 

I really do not mind telling people things, like how your pubic hair get matted when your menstruation blood dries up in between your uh-hem and your pad, but it’s just the reaction that you get from people that is the sick part.


Be happier will ya? 


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I Need To Think.

April 19, 2009

Okay, this is a very quick post I am doing whilst being surrounded in a disgusting area next to a water work and crying, wailing babies which hover over me like annoying objects in the sky that vomit milk.

Forgive me for such vital hatred.



Unless she is Miley Cyrus and makes fun of asians, then I take the above sentence back. 



(Jesus, I sound like a fangirl.) 

Screwing, Screwed, Screw!

April 19, 2009



I have no idea why everyone feels so uncomfortable/offended everytime I say screw.

“Screw in the nail!”

“I am screwing in the nail!”

“Looked! She has screwed in the nail!”

“All hail the girl who has screwed the nail!”

(Cheers apprehensively)



The world is screwed up.


Okay, I regret going back to school. I know I hated the holidays. But I pretty much prefer anything else than going into school. Really. That place is utter hell.

They should really not have exams. It causes such unnecessary stress on everyone. It sucks the living shit outta your itty-bitty brains until you die and shrivel up like a snail on a salt platter.

Exams, exams, exams, common tests, exams, exams, tests, tests, assessments, assessments!!! 


Geez, at least kill me in a more humane way.

And I’m addicted to “Ave Maria” by Andrea Bocelli- the Schubert version. : )


Happiness is classical songs.


three I am going to melbourne in June.

It is official.

Goodbye New York, hello Victoria Market.

But I must say, Melbourne is a nice place (besides cleaning up after my sister; and whale watching- OF COURSE) besides the chilly weather and the flock of singaporeans going there.

I have this theory that people go overseas to escape from their own inhumane culture of race and ethnicity to a different sociality to breathe in some humanity and culture world’s apart from their own before embarking on that tedious, money-sucking trip back to a place that you call home/hell. Alliteration! : D

And somehow cultures vary on where you are, how you are brought up (ish). Like in japan. People stand on the left-side of the escalator. No, wait, everyone stands on the left side of the escalator. It’s just one quiet little line of japanese people. 

What about here? Beings here stand wherever the please on the damn electronic staircase. Left, right, centre, wherever. PLEASE.

It’s a wonder how every single little thing we do costs around… $5000?


I love my country!



As the title suggests. 
I’d be a little lonely without my blog, it’s test week next week. So good bye electronic world.

Hello textbook.

I’ll be blogging though, hopefully. Most likely. Possibly. I pray. And so do you, dear reader.

(And sorry about not posting up a picture. I’m in a rush right now. I’ve never typed this fast before. It’s like a dog chasing after my big fat ass. Well, i wouldn’t blame the dog. My ass is big and fat. I think it’d taste pretty well. For the dog.)


Okay, so yes. I’ve just watched The Devil Wears Prada. Don’t ask why I watched it so late. But yes. Deal with it.

And honestly, the whole world is cutting bangs.

Really. Last year, at least 5 people cut bangs in school. And my school is rather new, so there aren’t many people.

And if 3 people can show up with freshly cut fringes that make them look like sweet china-dolls.

Then that’s half the population of humanity.

People! Be more interesting!

Be icelandic or sudanese for once!


Okay, i’m going to update this post.

If I don’t. You can kick my big fat arse.


Slogan The Hogan.

April 11, 2009



I really like that eggman above. Partially because I made him using the paint application, but oh well, that’s not exactly the point.

I’ve been rather blog-desolate lately.

I’ve been using my time to prostitute my literacy. And I’ve been reading this rather annoying book of late.

Stupid school literature book.

I must learn never to trust school to choose such books.

Honestly, the character in the book thinks he’s an intellect which annoys me the the end of the world because he is 

1) an ignorant little shithead.

2) stupid beyond Salvador Dali’s imagination

In other words, he pisses me off. 


I have a little crush on Salvador Dali at the moment.

I think he is a very interesting fellow. I love him so much.

He married a nymphomaniac! Who wouldn’t love love that!

 Well, I love Gala too, but that would be a little homosexual.

And one day, when I’m (hopefully) rich and famous and worth $378million dollars, I’d buy Dali’s melting clock. And I’ll put it in my front yard for the whole world to oogle and gasp in awe. 

Or I should just marry a rich man.

Either way.





Pop art is invading my life.


I’ve been dreaming about pop-artish stuff since, last week?

It all started with double basses taking over the street lamposts.

As in, HUGE double basses.

It was kinda scary.

Every 10m or so, there was one gigantic double bass. And it filled up every street. Then trombones grew legs and started walking around.

And little neon green violins started attacking those walking trombones.

And then I turned into a trumpet that was shiny, plastic (I totally have no idea how trumpets can turn plastic- don’t ask) and blood red. And I started to play “When I fall in love” by Chris Botti.

It was kinda like The Simpsons meets Andy Warhol meets Yamaha (yes, the music place).


This morning:

My optometrist was Marilyn Monroe in her cute little white dress that she wore in the famous up-skirt incident.

Infamous, famous, whatever. People still know about it.

And then little ponies came in, they were, well, pretty technologic.

(Yes, I was still dreaming- scared.)

They were robotic little ponies, and they ate carrots.

Somehow I had a carrot (which was NEON PINK) in my bag and I fed it to a pegasus-looking pony.



Oh god.

I am totally nuts.