<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003</id><updated>2011-10-27T22:10:24.235+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rokok &amp; Susu</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>101</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-7431165666123966267</id><published>2009-03-11T12:41:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T02:59:32.747+08:00</updated><title type='text'>GIVE IT ALL YOU'VE GOT</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/Sb6gfIpprQI/AAAAAAAAAQY/6h9Js0StWP8/s1600-h/Unknown8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313861067102334210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/Sb6gfIpprQI/AAAAAAAAAQY/6h9Js0StWP8/s400/Unknown8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; -got this off from tumblr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;i quote this from andy: &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;" the amount of respect and love you give to a person is the amount that the person deserved it. you treat everyone differently because you treat them the way they earned it. you dont choose who you love, respect and trust. cause it just happens. you just cant choose. it just happens. "&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;" Life is not about how fast you run or how high you climb, but how well you bounce."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;s&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M.I.A&lt;/s&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HIATUS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-7431165666123966267?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/7431165666123966267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=7431165666123966267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7431165666123966267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7431165666123966267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2009/03/give-it-all-youve-got.html' title='GIVE IT ALL YOU&apos;VE GOT'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/Sb6gfIpprQI/AAAAAAAAAQY/6h9Js0StWP8/s72-c/Unknown8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-1387818891196337754</id><published>2009-02-28T15:39:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T16:10:11.534+08:00</updated><title type='text'>swallow this pill called pride;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I always hate to admit when someone said something which is right and I have to accept it- there and then. I always hate it when that happens, especially when it hits the spot and I have to shamefully accept it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're never going to succeed in changing if you keep questioning. I may not know you well enough, I may not even know you at all, but you're never going to keep your vow if this is how you're going to react. Concealing your tears &amp;amp; fears, and clenching your jaws doesn't mean your strong, and you know that. Kill yourself if you're really tired of this game called life. Be a quitter for all I care, cause you don't deserve having that pride on your sleeve. I seem to not know you anymore or maybe I don't even know you at all. You have never been this way. You were never like this. You have never been a quitter. You have never lost,even if you did, you'll picked up the pieces all over again. What happened to the 3 choices in life? If this is you, then my judgements have been really bad. "&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These words, they serve me as a reminder. They have been pricking me and it's getting into me. I would have retort back like how I always do, but he's right. There wasn't a loop in any of it. When he mentioned about everything else, I had to accept it. In the midst of all this chaos and mess, I forgot the ones that have been pushing me. The words hurt, but I know his right. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I recalled that awfully long conversation, it aches inside. Now, what happened really? I don't even know. Right now, all I know is, I have to conquer this. I have to; to prove everything that Im worth. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2009 have been mad, real mad. I wonder what March will bring me. If there's more mess that I have to clear, then I'll just have to accept it and wear my pride proudly on my sleeve. I deserve this pride, and I'll have to regain everything back, won't I? Im not a quitter, and I don't plan on starting to be one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im told to prove everything that I've said, and hahs, I'll have the last laugh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch me fly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-1387818891196337754?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/1387818891196337754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=1387818891196337754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1387818891196337754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1387818891196337754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2009/02/swallow-this-pill-called-pride.html' title='swallow this pill called pride;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-3318847345597146558</id><published>2009-02-26T18:55:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T19:09:59.187+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The 100th</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been travellin' on this road too long &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Just tryna find my way back home &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The old me is dead and gone, dead and gone &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I turn my head to the East &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't see nobody by my side&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I turn my head to the West&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Still nobody in sight &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So I turn my head to the North &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Swallow that pill that they call pride &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;That old me is dead and gone &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But that new me will be alright&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There's just certain things in life which is better left unsaid. I've sworn to secrecy nothing should be revealed, but it's beginning to eat me up after all this stuffs has happened. I wish I knew how to go through this. If this is part of growing up, then I wish I remain 6 always. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They always questioned me, and there's time when I really can't answer cause Im not sure if I really do have the answers. It's there, but Im not too sure how to put it to words. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the point of all this? It's already too little, too late. Im tired, and Im done here. But Im not quite sure if Im ready to give this all up. If giving everything up means breaking a promise, then should I? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what's life without pain? No pain, no gain- isn't that what they always say? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK DAH, IM DONE. IM GETTING BORED OF GOING THROUGH THIS OVER AND OVER AGAIN. And what's next? Repeating every steps all over again? Then what? What?! What?! What?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I WANT TO QUESTION YOU, BUT YOU'RE THERE LAYING IN YOUR GRAVE! WHY OH WHY? WHY?! Why must you be dead? Why must you die? Why? Why must you leave at such a young age?! Why?! Why?! Why?! Why must you leave me? Why?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been years now. And I wish I knew it all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-3318847345597146558?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/3318847345597146558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=3318847345597146558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3318847345597146558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3318847345597146558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2009/02/100th.html' title='The 100th'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-3246481046195427065</id><published>2009-02-21T23:30:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T23:41:00.288+08:00</updated><title type='text'>tiam, tiam jer.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyone wants to relive the euphoric moments from the past, but everyone knows it's not possible cause its never going to be the same again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me? im not quite sure which is which. i want to willed out the voices from the past that haunts me, but i want certain memories from the past to be relieved. im in between, i supposed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so............ im not sure how to go about this. there's still hope as they say. but garhs! im bored with this game called life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yeah, fcuk you, world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im going to have my last laugh, world. and that's when im going to turn to you and spit in your face, world and say, "IN YOUR FACE, BITCH!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahahahaha. world, please wait for that to arrive. im sure it will, my killer instinct never fail on me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;diam jer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-3246481046195427065?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/3246481046195427065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=3246481046195427065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3246481046195427065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3246481046195427065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2009/02/tiam-tiam-jer.html' title='tiam, tiam jer.'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-5268087932920235841</id><published>2009-02-21T13:13:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T14:21:55.751+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fcuk you, world!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fcuk! Fcuk! Fcuk! Fcuk!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I had nothing better to do, I read all the post from the archives here and the other cyberspace abode, and I got so fcuking pissed off! I was literally slamming the mouse as I click each post. Fcuk, I didn't know it was that bad lahr.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, Im pissing everywhere. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll understand if right here, right now you're in my position. I shouldn't have click my archives. I shouldn't have. Now Im ruining my own Saturday. Fcuking shit. I failed in choking on my own ego and anger. Fcuk. This is seriously pissing me off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one will understand, and I won't bother explaining or clarifying. What's the point? What's the whole fcuking point?! In the end, I'll still be blame for the many things that I did and wasn't given a chance. FCUK!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was on the phone with MR and I just clicked it dead and fcuking throw the phone aside. Bloody fcuk, didn't know it would affect me this badly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is never fair. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fcuk you, world. Up yours, I really mean it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fcuk you, world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;P/S; Dear World, you forgot one known fact. I'll always have the last laugh. I always do, bitch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-5268087932920235841?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/5268087932920235841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=5268087932920235841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5268087932920235841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5268087932920235841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2009/02/fcuk-you-world.html' title='fcuk you, world!!!'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-5375193721101866661</id><published>2009-02-19T10:18:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T11:10:38.069+08:00</updated><title type='text'>JOKE OF THE YEAR JOY!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHA.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the fcuk?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that spit, and after that fight, now you want me to be your kakak angkat?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kau buat kelakar ehk minah? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I don't have time for godsis when I have two younger siblings at home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;2) I don't believe in this shits of godfamily whatever craps you idiots want it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;3) I have a life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;4) What do you get by asking me to be your god sis? We are worlds apart, please.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh minah, you crack me up! This is by far the best and the most hilarious shits I've heard. It's seriously fcuking joke of the year. And I thought you were smoking fierce. No match, no fight. Borringggg.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now go find the right person who wants to adopt you as a godsis. Deffinitely not my breed. Hahs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;As usual, I always have the last laugh. I always do, baby.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-5375193721101866661?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/5375193721101866661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=5375193721101866661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5375193721101866661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5375193721101866661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2009/02/joke-of-year-joy.html' title='JOKE OF THE YEAR JOY!'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-3081200330350338133</id><published>2009-02-10T11:59:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T12:13:14.368+08:00</updated><title type='text'>my love;</title><content type='html'>Otak wa sot jer. There's alot of things that needs to be done. Like picking up the pieces all over again(tell me something new) and fixing everything else so it goes in place. Ape wa da vow, wa tetap akan tunaikan pasal wa tau that's what I wanna live for. 'Cause a vow is a vow. This is not bullshit macam mana lu da cakap straight to my face, because I know what Im going to do. Memang salah wa on that night pasal wa allow wa pey frustrations to talk to your ego. When fire and fire speaks, there's nothing much you can expect from it. Wa pon tau wa punya sala pasal da show disrespect. And wa punya salah la kan pasal otak mati pergi allow anger wa bebual. Tapi nak apologise pon buat aper? Tu figure of speech and kiter duer tau sorry means nothing. Wa tetap akan prove what needs to be proven, and wa tetap akan have lu pey back. Wa akan tunjuk lu erti persahabatan. Wa tak akan give up ni persahabatan pasal wa da sayang sangat dan wa taknak lepaskan. Wa tak akan senang2 give up pasal wa tau this makes my life worth living. Wa da pernah cakap biler orang tanya lu saper utk wa, wa boleh jawab proudly yang lu- wa pey brother, bestfriend, lover dan confidante. No matter what, wa tetap sayang lu dua anak lebih dari wa sayang diri wa sendiri. Ni wa pey choice, because knowing this makes me feel so much worthy of living. Wa tetap sayang lu walaupon aper2 terjadi and wa tak akan give up. Fullstop.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-3081200330350338133?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/3081200330350338133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=3081200330350338133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3081200330350338133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3081200330350338133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-love.html' title='my love;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-5535912948759267100</id><published>2009-02-05T17:58:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T12:04:04.127+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Condom Boredom</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let's do random notes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1- The only reason why Im updating is because the fcuking Matrep called me up when I was sleeping causing me to jerk awake due to vibration. Bloody me, forget to switch the phone off. Now, I can't go to sleep. Thank you, Matrep. I can never replace you.=.='&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2- Im feeling terribly weak. I hate the 'white light' sensation. Whenever I rush to stand up, my head spins for a moment and then, there's white light blinking in front of me. It's been going on for days. GARHS. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3- This few days just isn't "ME-DAY". I keep on pissing everywhere and badly, even over the slightest things. I feel like kicking and punching everything just to let go of this sickening feeling. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4- Im annoyed by the new trend- the word 'irrits'. No offence, but it's daym irritating whenever someone talk to me and use the word irrits like nobody's business. It ain't cool, yaw! Plus it's daym irritating to use the word irrits. If that's the case, whenever Im angry, I should probably say angs. Stop it, seriously. The next person who uses that word is going to get a truckload of vulgarities from me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5- My mind have been drifting into space lately. I space out in conversations that isn't engaging or when Im doing my work. Im just not in the right state of mind. I just wish I could spill out everything and do a word vomit, but knowing myself, I can't even get the right words out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6- I feel fcuking helpless cause Im fcuking penniless. Please do not complain that your parents have not given enough school money due to economic recessions, because I don't even get money from my parents, can?! I can't even afford peanuts to survive let alone proper food. I am fcuking supporting my own self, so appreciate it. And that's only half of my story. So just shut the fcuk up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7- I officially hate rich kids because for fcuk's sake, you're fcuking living on the wealth of your parents. Bitch, get a life. Don't go flaunting your stuffs when you don't earn it with your sweat and blood. Quit it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8- I have a problem communicating with humans lately. I seem to forget on how to converse properly. I'll either smile or nod and then say a few words. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9- I am deprived of a retail therapy, but argh! Fcuk this bitch called money.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10- Please do not ask me out for parties after 7Feb- Im officially broke then. And that's the last party before I get my life on track. Plus if you're of no importance, do not bother asking unless you want to sponsor everything. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11- Notice that my English is getting screwed by the minute? I officially hate tertiary education because there's no subject called English. Maybe that's why I can't communicate. Do talk to me in my malay, Im getting good at that especially those minah language. Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12- And to you fcuking Minah, please go home and cry and complain that I spit at you. Please do. And please, please come and pick up a fight. That'll be interesting, seriously.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13- I think Im getting insane by the minute. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14- I need a job a.s.a.p! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15- I should probably stop here, but Im waiting for time to pass. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16- And Im still contemplating on closing this blog down, but it's time like this that I need it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17- Please grant me by 2B soon! I cannot tolerate the madpacked bus anymore! I need my own Putera Tazmanian Al-Robin! Please, baby M, come home to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18- I just want you to read my mind and decipher my feelings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19- Ok, this should be the last one, I need to change out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20- See you when I see you, I supposed. HAHA. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21- Ok last, pardon the screwed up language. Just try to understand. Ok bye!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-5535912948759267100?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/5535912948759267100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=5535912948759267100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5535912948759267100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5535912948759267100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2009/02/random-condom-boredom.html' title='Random Condom Boredom'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-5511070839573376846</id><published>2009-02-02T11:07:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T11:26:26.827+08:00</updated><title type='text'>word vomit;</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;10th grade&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;As I sat there in English class, I stared at the guy next to me. He was my so called "best friend". I stared at his dark, messy hair, and wished he was mine. But he didn't notice me like that, and I knew it. After class, he walked up to me and asked me for the notes he had missed the day before and i handed them to him. He said "thanks" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell him, I want him to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love him but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;11th grade&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The phone rang. On the other end, it was him. He was in tears, mumbling on and on about how his homies had left him. He asked me to come over because he didn't feel like being alone, so I did. As I sat next to him on the sofa, I stared at his beautiful, brown eyes, wishing he was mine. After 2 hours, one basketball movie, and three bags of chips, he decided to go to sleep. Helooked at me, said "thanks" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell him, I want him to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love him but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Senior year&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The day before prom he walked to my locker. "My date is sick" he said; she's not going to go well, I didn't have a date, and in 7th grade, we made a promise that if neither of us had dates, we would go together just as "best friends". So we did. Prom night, after everything was over, we were standing at my front door step! I stared at him as he smiled at me and stared at me with his crystal eyes. I want him to be mine, but he isn't thinking of me like that, and I know it. Then he said "I had the best time, thanks!" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell him, I want him to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love him but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Graduation Day&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A day passed, then a week, then a month. Before I could blink, it was graduation day. I watched as his perfect body floated like an angel up on stage to get his diploma. I wanted him to be mine, but he didn't notice me like that, and I knew it. Before everyone went home, he came to me in his smock and hat, and I cried as I hugged him. Then he lifted my head from his shoulder and said, "you're my best friend, thanks" and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell him, I want him to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love him but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A Few Years Later&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now I sit in the pews of the church. That guy is getting married now. I watched him say "I do" and drive off to his new life, married to another woman. I wanted him to be mine, but he didn't see me like that, and I knew it. But before he drove away, he came to me and said "you came!". He said "thanks" and kissed me on the cheek. I want to tell him, I want him to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love him but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Funeral&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Years passed, I looked down at the coffin of a guy who used to be my "best friend". At the service, they read a letter that he had wrote during his high school years. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;This is what it read: I stare at her wishing she was mine, but she doesn't notice me like that, and I know it. I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy, and I don't know why. I wish she would tell me she loved me!I wish I did too... I thought to my self, and I cried.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You make me fall over and over again, but this time round, as the bestfriend that we already are. You make me think of you every time of the day, because you linger around in my thoughts and in the air I breathe. You seem to know what to say, what to do and even how to face me. There's something magical about you that I sometimes forgot you're still a normal human being. You are really something even if I don't wish to tell you. There's many times that you held me high and stole my pain away, and there's many times that I couldn't say how grateful I am. And I feel myself when Im with you. I don't really need a thick mask to talk or hold the facade I've been playing for years. You put my pretence to it's minimal. There's many times our lives intertwine, yet we kept mum about it. Because you and I, we both know that we don't believe in this kind of thing. You- the angel with the dirty face.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-5511070839573376846?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/5511070839573376846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=5511070839573376846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5511070839573376846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5511070839573376846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2009/02/word-vomit.html' title='word vomit;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-6185127356627117337</id><published>2009-01-18T10:55:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T11:25:41.564+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Current affairs;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SXKaTv_Dg_I/AAAAAAAAAQE/8H8tgg90ZuI/s1600-h/s320x240.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292462176202884082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SXKaTv_Dg_I/AAAAAAAAAQE/8H8tgg90ZuI/s400/s320x240.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is probably the only photo that I managed to steal for the Siloso Beach Party. I think the rest are laying somewhere in AhBeng's laptop ready to be made into sour pickles. Fret not, I shall have to own them one way or another.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I've repeat it countlessly but I cannot wait for February parties! Reason being, Im already itching for the orgasmic feeling and adrenaline rush. Haha. Two weeks of partying during February and then Im done with enjoying life. Shall be serious and err concentrate on what's needed. &lt;em&gt;(Because after two weeks, I'll have to consume peanuts again as a last resort.)&lt;/em&gt; I am anticipating for that junking event and of course my drinking showdown with the Homeboys. Plus, the celebration with the GFs. &lt;em&gt;(Why do I get the feeling that everyone will not make it for any of these event?)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come what may, I must say. No matter what happened, the party must go on even if it means getting dejected or rejected. Or if the either one is cancelled then I'll scout for a new one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shits happen, and I just have to deal with it, I guess. If you're willing to create a mess, then you should be more than willing to clear it up. Because I still hold true to the saying, &lt;em&gt;"You'll never learn how to live if you're afraid to die." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No point brooding and hoping things will be okay, cause miracles don't happen if you don't make them. And probably because I know things will be okay, so jyeah, no more worries. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been okay actually, I feel absolutely amazing except job hunting is killing me. But jyeah, things will turn out alright. One day you're sky high the next you're rock bottom, life is predictable that way, but either way, you'll still breathe. That's the whole point, you'll still breathe. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, the reason, Im finally updating TMF is because YICHENG asked me to. See junior, Im nice to you. And hope you get your MJC appeal. If you do, you still owe me a Swensens meal! Im waiting, Yicheng. Cmon, you said Im the best senior, so a little treat wouldn't hurt, would it?&lt;br /&gt;Plus, you're one of the best junior as well, so you must&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;belanja horh. Hehe. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know when will I ever update again, because &lt;strong&gt;1)&lt;/strong&gt; I've stashed all my entries onto another cyberspace abode.&lt;strong&gt; 2)&lt;/strong&gt;I feel like closing down TMF. &lt;strong&gt;3)&lt;/strong&gt;It's the time again when blogger no longer give you the same feeling of tranquility. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;see you when I see you. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-6185127356627117337?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/6185127356627117337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=6185127356627117337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6185127356627117337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6185127356627117337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2009/01/current-affairs.html' title='Current affairs;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SXKaTv_Dg_I/AAAAAAAAAQE/8H8tgg90ZuI/s72-c/s320x240.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-6941975904884444036</id><published>2009-01-03T18:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T18:55:35.808+08:00</updated><title type='text'>2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never made any resolutions, but this time round, I see it's a must. Mine are pretty much a simple list that I guess it's easy to abide.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) To be an even stronger person in every aspect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;2) To build a thicker Berlin Wall around me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;3) Get back my study life on track.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;4) Stop bothering my friends for help.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;5) Reconcile.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;6) Be an even stronger person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;7) Build up the woman's pride I've lost on Countdown.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;8) Attain my 2B license.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And dear friend; I cannot stop thinking about how crazy I must have been to trouble you. To put you through the shits. I don't understand myself either. And Im truly sorry to be a bother when everyone should have enjoyed, yet I dragged you down with my shits. I feel truly indebted and it's ruining my pride. But action speaks louder than word. Somehow or rather like you said, &lt;em&gt;ada pergi, ada balik.&lt;/em&gt; I hope I can repay you someday in any means I could. I am truly sorry, and thank you for everything you did. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a toast to 2009, may this be a better year ahead.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To King; the brother who endure my shits and help me throughout during my fcuking breaking point in countdown.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the Lesbo GF; For being there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the Homekids, GFs, Jiwers and practically everyone else; for your utmost concern.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-6941975904884444036?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/6941975904884444036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=6941975904884444036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6941975904884444036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6941975904884444036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2009/01/2009.html' title='2009'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-2797921642361909800</id><published>2008-12-30T03:07:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T03:30:16.890+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of life and Booze;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;The best thing about life is when you share it with great companions. It doesn't really matter how boring and sucky life is, cause when you're with the best companions you could ever ask for, then things will seriously be okay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's many things which you wish you could alter, but obviously if you learn to appreciate the ones around you, you'll find life a better place to live. And that's really something coming out from someone who keeps complaining that life is boring. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the reason why we drink is probably not because life sucks, but probably to the bond we shared. I mean laughters and booze plus great companions; they always go well together. But then again, maybe life do sucks, so that's why we drink. Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday was another round of impromptu boozing with the homeboys, but the summer sister came along too despite not wanting it. Eventually she learnt to enjoy herself and really let life loose. Sha, you should know what I mean. It was heaps of fun especially when you're laughing the night away at the crazy antics that we had to put up with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285292353203902402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SVkhZH7Ol8I/AAAAAAAAAP0/kOXe7sDk_tw/s400/DSC00253.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'll be honest. It took us about 30 minutes to actually get this one shot. Reason being, the bottle keep falling off. I shall spare the pride of someone being bashed and save that person from embarrassment. And after 30 minutes, 2 bottles were broken badly. &lt;em&gt;*Looks at Sha*&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But enjoying every bit of it, is really all that matters. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I hope you guys had the time of your life"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-2797921642361909800?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/2797921642361909800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=2797921642361909800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2797921642361909800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2797921642361909800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/of-life-and-booze.html' title='Of life and Booze;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SVkhZH7Ol8I/AAAAAAAAAP0/kOXe7sDk_tw/s72-c/DSC00253.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-5833611083492307794</id><published>2008-12-29T11:21:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T12:02:33.276+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When you're bored;</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;What is your boyfriend/girlfriends name?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Too much to mention yaw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What are you listening to right now?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Dengan nafasmu; Ungu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Whats your favorite number?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-31(Actually I don't have a favourite number. Daym dumb)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What was the last thing you ate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-Toast bread&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When was the last time you smiled?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-A few moments ago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How is the weather right now?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Sunny&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-HK Gambler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is your worst habit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-Get back to this later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you drink?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Cause life sucks, that's why we drink&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you smoke?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-Cause life is boring, that's why we smoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When was the last time, if ever, blacked-out from drinking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-Blacked out, no. Masai jyeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hair color?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Black, Mahogany Brown and tinge of blonde.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eye Color?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Dark brown close to black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you wear contacts?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Nah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Favorite Holiday?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Beijing with the GFs! Power doke!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Favorite Month?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The month when Im rich&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever cried for no reason?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Suspect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What was the last movie you watched?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Angus, Thongs and her perfect snogging!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Favorite Day of the Year?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The day when Im roaming at night with the mates feeling carefree&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you too shy to ask someone out?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Depending who Im asking out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Last advice you received?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-That's just something I'll rather be discreet about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What was the highlight of your weekend?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I don't know dude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chocolate or Vanilla?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Vanilla&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is the last text message you received?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-"So you're going to be a better Mafia in twenty oh nine?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who was the last person to call you?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-HK Gambler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What books are you reading?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I've just finished Summer Sisters by Judy Blume. AWESOME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When was the last time you slept in someone else's bed?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Im allergic to people, so Im sticking to my own bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Favorite movie?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-It's deffinitely NOT Rec!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Favorite football team?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Singapore! GO LIONS! Haha, support your local football team. Cheys! Bluff.&lt;br /&gt;My favourite football team is the one that help me wins my bet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What were you doing before this?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Watching Ellen. She's awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Any pets?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Im allergic to animals especially cats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Butter, Plain or Salted popcorn?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Cheese?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dogs or cats?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-Monkeys?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Favorite flowers?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Baby's breathe. Ok, nothing in particular actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever loved someone?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-What's with the past tense? I don't know. Im not interested in err this thing called love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Who would you like to see right now?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- No one in particular&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you still friends with people from kindergarten ?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-What's past is past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Have you ever fired a gun?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Oh yes! I was aiming for a perfect score but was so distracted by Sir Mus(I think that's his name) captivating looks that I actually only got a pathetic 6/10. Lesson learnt; Concentrate when shooting. But that was aeons ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you like to travel by plane?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What website do you frequently visit?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-TMF @ BS. FB. ELJAY. NEOPETS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If you could be with someone right now, who would it be?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Michael Scofield.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How many pillows do you sleep with?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-As much as possible&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you missing someone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;-Michael Scofirled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you have a Tattoo?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Nope, but my BF Scofield does. Ok not funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;On a totally different note; yesterday was another awesome time with the Homeboys and GF. Much loved. I love this kind of nights. Always the best days of my life.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-5833611083492307794?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/5833611083492307794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=5833611083492307794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5833611083492307794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5833611083492307794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/when-youre-bored.html' title='When you&apos;re bored;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-1523355444641952235</id><published>2008-12-28T00:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T00:47:24.948+08:00</updated><title type='text'>YICHENG OWES ME A MEAL!</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;The only reason Im here is because Im still patient enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;The last straw; I can see it coming. Im not okay today, so please don't bother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Onto another note; AHBENG A.K.A YICHENG owes me a fcuking Swensen meal! Haha. I will hunt you down for it okay beng.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-1523355444641952235?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/1523355444641952235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=1523355444641952235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1523355444641952235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1523355444641952235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/yicheng-owes-me-meal.html' title='YICHENG OWES ME A MEAL!'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-2253953172789818132</id><published>2008-12-26T12:08:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T12:09:03.300+08:00</updated><title type='text'>hugs and misses;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;IM MISSING THE BOY BADLY.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REAL BAD.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-2253953172789818132?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/2253953172789818132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=2253953172789818132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2253953172789818132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2253953172789818132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/hugs-and-misses.html' title='hugs and misses;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-7156730809646764813</id><published>2008-12-25T10:07:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T10:13:37.079+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ARGHHHH</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a problem with Minah KK, no matter how fierce their friends judge them. I don't mix with them cause they are just fcuking arrogant. Im not cocky, but they are. Im sorry Im not your species, and I thank god that Im not. Your boyfriend stories irks me. Your make-up irritates me. Your squeaky voice, I abhor. Your fashion sense annoy me. Ah well, it's always that way when you hate them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, Im missing the boy badly. Really bad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, where have the homekids went missing? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-7156730809646764813?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/7156730809646764813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=7156730809646764813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7156730809646764813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7156730809646764813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/arghhhh.html' title='ARGHHHH'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-8630790302918102844</id><published>2008-12-23T15:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T15:26:10.809+08:00</updated><title type='text'>jade surprise;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Im telling you, yesterday I was in a for a big surprise! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually found a Jade pendant while I was at work! It's a fcuking Jade pendant, and I don't care how minahish it'll look like on me! But it was almost mine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course being the good citizen that I am, I returned it back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could feel my heart breaking as it falls to the floor. Oh my! A Jade pendant. I know it's not really that expensive compared to a diamond or anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was a daym Jade pendant from SK Jewellery! Daym!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That could be a Xmas present for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't help it but to complain to everyone about it. I told almost everyone that wanted to listen to me whine. Of course, GM was an exception. He's as good as dead by now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tsk. What a sad life!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Happy 23rd to the Kedongdong Brother. Hope you love your card aight. Bloody Jedi Master of Noobs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-8630790302918102844?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/8630790302918102844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=8630790302918102844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8630790302918102844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8630790302918102844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/jade-surprise.html' title='jade surprise;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-525063055214742686</id><published>2008-12-22T14:28:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T14:38:03.862+08:00</updated><title type='text'>confessions;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;We should pretend that we're okay and hope everything will turn out alright. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is what we've decided so let's not make things difficult for both of us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We'll get through this like how we promised.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Clean cut break-ups and pretend we're okay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don't know for how long this time round, but I guess we shall take things slow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So &lt;em&gt;GM&lt;/em&gt;, we'll live with it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-525063055214742686?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/525063055214742686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=525063055214742686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/525063055214742686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/525063055214742686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/confessions.html' title='confessions;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-6908772120099529366</id><published>2008-12-21T11:04:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T11:12:26.509+08:00</updated><title type='text'>illusion;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Feels like your beatin', beatin' the drumbeats into my heart.&lt;br /&gt;Feels like there's nothin', nothin' around to make me stop.&lt;br /&gt;You are a motion that makes me high.&lt;br /&gt;You are a dream that burns inside.&lt;br /&gt;A magic potion, that's my soul.&lt;br /&gt;Come fly with me.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282074212745907506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SU2ygsf4jTI/AAAAAAAAAPs/jUBnjBlHlYY/s400/See_me_fly_by_Jennelizabeth.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Let me sleep a little longer,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;wake me a little later.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Let me breathe you in better,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;that familiar scent of comfort.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Because it's when we're asleep,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;that both of us feels that this is right.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im wishing for you a whole lot more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SU2ygsf4jTI/AAAAAAAAAPs/jUBnjBlHlYY/s1600-h/See_me_fly_by_Jennelizabeth.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.metrolyrics.com/come-fly-away-lyrics-benny-benassi.html"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-6908772120099529366?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/6908772120099529366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=6908772120099529366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6908772120099529366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6908772120099529366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/illusion.html' title='illusion;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SU2ygsf4jTI/AAAAAAAAAPs/jUBnjBlHlYY/s72-c/See_me_fly_by_Jennelizabeth.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-5386174142842089079</id><published>2008-12-19T02:12:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T02:56:57.593+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My boozing stories;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;Drunk before Zoukout;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had Absolut Vods. Haha, as usual my blushing made people think Im not o-fcuking kay.&lt;br /&gt;And there's a new word in town; Alvin and the Chipmunks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 242px; HEIGHT: 182px" height="489" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/13122008050.jpg" width="577" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 238px; HEIGHT: 178px" height="528" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/13122008051.jpg" width="474" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 232px; HEIGHT: 185px" height="515" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/13122008052.jpg" width="377" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 230px; HEIGHT: 200px" height="508" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/13122008053.jpg" width="426" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 227px; HEIGHT: 192px" height="522" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/13122008054.jpg" width="599" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 234px; HEIGHT: 180px" height="511" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/13122008055.jpg" width="542" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 257px; HEIGHT: 197px" height="516" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/13122008058.jpg" width="458" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 230px; HEIGHT: 174px" height="491" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/13122008060.jpg" width="488" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 251px; HEIGHT: 183px" height="455" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/13122008061.jpg" width="533" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;Random Monday Night; &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was really impromptu and random decision to drink. But we did. It was like a day after the Zoukout event. This time round we had Chivas. Now here's a fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 247px; HEIGHT: 190px" height="486" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/15122008065.jpg" width="433" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 243px; HEIGHT: 182px" height="479" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/15122008066.jpg" width="365" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 246px; HEIGHT: 213px" height="531" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/15122008067.jpg" width="503" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 244px; HEIGHT: 190px" height="519" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/15122008068.jpg" width="461" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 241px; HEIGHT: 187px" height="541" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/15122008071.jpg" width="478" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 250px; HEIGHT: 181px" height="467" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/15122008072.jpg" width="445" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 261px; HEIGHT: 222px" height="517" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/15122008073.jpg" width="414" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 255px; HEIGHT: 170px" height="516" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/15122008075.jpg" width="482" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 260px; HEIGHT: 178px" height="478" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/15122008076.jpg" width="455" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 262px; HEIGHT: 212px" height="490" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/15122008078.jpg" width="446" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 234px; HEIGHT: 166px" height="497" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/15122008080.jpg" width="477" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Booze @ Vivo;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was on Wednesday. We wanted to just chillout and get beer for ourselves. But we had Glenn's Vods instead. This time round we up the stakes. Losers of Taitee, Blackjack, Race and Poker had to neat. And luck wasn't on my side. This time round, we realised the beauty of the word; Manicure. Go figure! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 248px; HEIGHT: 176px" height="501" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/BoozeBabyBooze/17122008085.jpg" width="527" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I survived anyway. Next round is countdown. I shall refrain myself from boozing lest I want a bad liver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In King's words; Life sucks, that's why we drink. Or was it life sucks, Get a life. Well choose one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Countdown is something to look forward to. So 2008 shall be gone. But Im more looking forward to February. Come February, Im going to make sure, I'll defeat the most egoistical man on Earth. Im going to show you what a fight really means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall show you a real woman's fight. I won't lose out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's only 3 choices in life; Give up, Give in or Give it all you got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I happened to choose the last one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's a piece of news for you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-5386174142842089079?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/5386174142842089079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=5386174142842089079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5386174142842089079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5386174142842089079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-boozing-stories.html' title='My boozing stories;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-6023636660825820334</id><published>2008-12-18T12:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T12:55:52.614+08:00</updated><title type='text'>this doesn't make sense;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ok, I just needed to type something as my fingers really itch. I know I don't really have anything to tell since I've just made my point earlier. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I have a sudden urge to type. But really there's no point reading because this is really going nowhere. Life is boring, that's about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I mean let's be honest I no longer feel adrenaline rush. Feels weird, but I guess Im okay with it. I need something more than getting myself in a higher state of mind to feel the excitement of life. What a sad life. Only 18 and still young and rocking yet feels life is a wasted affair. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I was laying down in bed early in the morning, and then everything came upon me. I've had the best of the holidays. Sungguh gerek dan awesome.  I've been smiling to myself eversince because of those crappy moments along the way. And gawd, it's seriously hilarious when come to think about it. However, I need to cut down on my boozing or my liver might perhaps jumped right out of my body. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Countdown shall be another boozing affair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Life just sucks, that's why we drink. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The purpose of this whole entry? Is to tell you that Im freaking bored here, and I still have work later in the evening. Well, good luck to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And yes, we'll forget that we ever happened. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;As for now, get a life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-6023636660825820334?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/6023636660825820334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=6023636660825820334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6023636660825820334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6023636660825820334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/this-doesnt-make-sense.html' title='this doesn&apos;t make sense;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-4166994768931590131</id><published>2008-12-18T11:06:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T11:08:42.425+08:00</updated><title type='text'>because im bored;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Whatever that doesn't breaks me; makes me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Whatever that doesn't makes me; breaks me.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And what's done, can't be undone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Clean-cut break, we've promised.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-4166994768931590131?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/4166994768931590131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=4166994768931590131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4166994768931590131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4166994768931590131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/because-im-bored.html' title='because im bored;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-7141473784518102908</id><published>2008-12-16T11:55:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T12:03:11.542+08:00</updated><title type='text'>angsty relationship;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don't get the whole idea of relationship actually. One day you're sky high, and the next you're rock bottom. And at times you feel both at the same moment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neither do I get it when humans play hot and cold. Just make up your mind, what you actually want? This or that? Don't leave other humans behind with your mind games. Speak, say it out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't get men with issues either and playing hot and cold at the same time. One day you love me, the next day the feeling fades. And the day after that, you feel like having me again. Do I look like a dessert to you? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sympathise this breed too much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And no, if you're considering me as someone to fall back on, then I think you should reconsider your choice. I don't think Im that kinda girl who fits the bill. Im just a different kind of breed. Either embrace it, or ignore it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pick your choice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know what they say; Bros before hoes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-7141473784518102908?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/7141473784518102908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=7141473784518102908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7141473784518102908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7141473784518102908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/angsty-relationship.html' title='angsty relationship;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-4539287883576209653</id><published>2008-12-13T14:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T15:00:47.586+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of senses and talks;</title><content type='html'>I've been signing in and out of blogger and eljay, trying to seek the piece of daym solace when I first started making these two my cyber consort. But, it seems that none of them are giving me any of these anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been typing here, and then backspacing, and then re-type all over again. Watching the alphabets formed into words and then into strings of sentences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been wanting to get everything off my chest, run to the edge, stop, take a view of the world and then scream at the top of my lungs. But, I've been getting bad vibes about everything. From what I do and to what I think. In simpler terms; I've been pretty much been a pessimist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean that's not something new, but erk it's getting to a point of annoyance. And it isn't a good thing of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish life was paradaisical and that Earth itself is Utopia. Then every little thing would bring a great significance to life and perhaps, endless amount of euphoric moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only life was that easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But they say, the pains inflicted are the growth of your maturity and that's what make life real. But what if those pains became something that drive you to death? Would dying means life is real?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know. What would an 18 year old imbecile teen know anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know Im not making sense like when you first start to learn something. Nothing does make sense actually. It's more of your perception of what sense really means. Make sense? Nah, not one bit actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been spacing out in life, and then merely conversing with humans to get the day by. Most conversations goes along the line of the topic random. Now, if this continue, I think Im going to turn mad soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-4539287883576209653?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/4539287883576209653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=4539287883576209653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4539287883576209653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4539287883576209653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/of-senses-and-talks.html' title='of senses and talks;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-8961396408040931432</id><published>2008-12-12T11:13:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T11:21:11.262+08:00</updated><title type='text'>o-kay'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SUHYIPS_JRI/AAAAAAAAANo/62eUYNd9UJc/s1600-h/Breakdown_by_Hiilda.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278737874311652626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SUHYIPS_JRI/AAAAAAAAANo/62eUYNd9UJc/s400/Breakdown_by_Hiilda.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I pretend I'm ok.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But it aches inside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There's got to be a way that's better then just getting by.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;p/s im not fcuking okay.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-8961396408040931432?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/8961396408040931432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=8961396408040931432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8961396408040931432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8961396408040931432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/o-kay.html' title='o-kay&apos;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SUHYIPS_JRI/AAAAAAAAANo/62eUYNd9UJc/s72-c/Breakdown_by_Hiilda.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-4155243186149680751</id><published>2008-12-10T03:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T03:12:25.324+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Silly Jokes;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/ST7B8TlIyvI/AAAAAAAAANg/pxgH-fJ2DuI/s1600-h/desk.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277869055117150962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 398px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 299px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/ST7B8TlIyvI/AAAAAAAAANg/pxgH-fJ2DuI/s400/desk.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Click on it to enlarge)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;One of the silly jokes the siblings play out on each other.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My account?&lt;em&gt; "theONEaboveISaLOSER!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And then Im reminded, that there's only 13 more days left to execute my infamous joke. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Apparently Im still awake. Once again, my biological clock is screwed. Tell me something not surprising.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;p/s Im beginning to like having you around.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Good Morning, World.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-4155243186149680751?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/4155243186149680751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=4155243186149680751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4155243186149680751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4155243186149680751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/of-silly-jokes.html' title='Of Silly Jokes;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/ST7B8TlIyvI/AAAAAAAAANg/pxgH-fJ2DuI/s72-c/desk.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-6975016389136539598</id><published>2008-12-08T01:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T01:49:14.456+08:00</updated><title type='text'>life sucks.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's kinda like walking into a time machine,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and then you're brought back to the past.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You'll recognised the same scene all over,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;breathe in the same air.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Soak in the familiar atmosphere,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and then you start living life all over again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's kinda like being transported back in time,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and then you wake up to the familiar scent.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You walk the path you've already step on,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and say the same lines again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dejavu; you thought.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yet things aren't the same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's kinda like watching movie on repeat, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and then rewind it again, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and slowly re-watch it again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's kinda like living your past all over again.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-6975016389136539598?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/6975016389136539598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=6975016389136539598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6975016389136539598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6975016389136539598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/life-sucks.html' title='life sucks.'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-6196984741139688930</id><published>2008-12-07T14:37:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T14:42:31.404+08:00</updated><title type='text'>DW11</title><content type='html'>BOOZE, BABY BOOZE!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weekends has become a spot to soak in the sober atmosphere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-6196984741139688930?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/6196984741139688930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=6196984741139688930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6196984741139688930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6196984741139688930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/dw11.html' title='DW11'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-2221047116541525979</id><published>2008-12-07T01:05:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T01:08:07.956+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>aggravated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;enough is enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyone selfishly  believe that they are in the right. no one would admit that they are wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and for that, i should change my gameplan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2008, move it bitch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-2221047116541525979?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/2221047116541525979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=2221047116541525979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2221047116541525979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2221047116541525979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/aggravated.html' title=''/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-4443871973857990345</id><published>2008-12-05T01:29:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T01:35:03.766+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I wonder, if this was right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or that was wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I wonder, if we've made the right choice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or a mistake that will be regretted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder, why I play hot and cold.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And not once was your angst triggered.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I wonder, why you're too nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And not once did I whine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder, if we'll make it through the end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yet, we're continuing it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sometimes I wonder, if break up is a good choice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yet, we never really understood about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've come this far. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So where do we go now?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I wish I could call you up right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And start our first random conversation all over again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do we go?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Where art thou?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Where do we go?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've never lied when I said you're the reason.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-4443871973857990345?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/4443871973857990345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=4443871973857990345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4443871973857990345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4443871973857990345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/12/sometimes.html' title='Sometimes;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-1313892646456311331</id><published>2008-11-30T22:17:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T22:29:39.338+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Letter to Life;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dear Life;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are so boring!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it one day your sky high, and the next your at rock bottom? Why is it you feel blissed on moment, and pain the next?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do you feel love on moment, and hatred the next? Why do we play 'Hot N Cold' like Katy Perry said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it when one starts to crumble, everything else follow suit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can Scofield's advice; Just have a lil faith be taken for granted?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why aren't you thrilling like in the movies? Why does something so surreal feels real? And why does reality seems hard to set in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do we hope so much than what we're allowed to get?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daym you, life. You make me think too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me a break, life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now life, two words for you; FCUK YOU! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;With love;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Your worst enemy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-1313892646456311331?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/1313892646456311331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=1313892646456311331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1313892646456311331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1313892646456311331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/11/letter-to-life.html' title='Letter to Life;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-8668748680773523805</id><published>2008-11-26T00:28:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T02:24:19.184+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The legal party with the GFs;</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Chapter 1: Pitching tent;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 241px; HEIGHT: 323px" height="665" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4568.jpg" width="309" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 224px; HEIGHT: 325px" height="678" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4571.jpg" width="280" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bitch in dress who fixed the tent! Oh for the record; she did the work, like amazingly perfect. And that's the bitch in green who looks like she could fixed the tent, but actually know nuts about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 226px; HEIGHT: 338px" height="736" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4573.jpg" width="266" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 207px; HEIGHT: 200px" height="399" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4574.jpg" width="540" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 252px; HEIGHT: 171px" height="477" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4576.jpg" width="463" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at the 2nd picture; Belo looks constipated. For the record; both of them macamfaham only know how to pitch tent. Haha. Like I said; Nisha should be given credits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Juls was like all: "Axt, you should pitch the tent lahr! You NCC sia!"&lt;br /&gt;And I was like all: "No, it's my birthday what!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acting like a brat is a real easy thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chapter 2: The stuffs &amp;amp; the scenes;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 236px; HEIGHT: 350px" height="740" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4577.jpg" width="308" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hair is growing long like finally!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 289px; HEIGHT: 187px" height="413" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4579.jpg" width="496" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 280px; HEIGHT: 188px" height="452" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4581.jpg" width="489" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 273px; HEIGHT: 229px" height="399" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4582.jpg" width="575" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 265px; HEIGHT: 228px" height="412" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4584.jpg" width="538" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 246px; HEIGHT: 216px" height="451" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4586.jpg" width="571" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 241px; HEIGHT: 214px" height="462" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4616.jpg" width="540" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 482px; HEIGHT: 259px" height="423" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4603.jpg" width="559" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, the bubble that everyone had. Mine's the blue and I named it Robin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chapter 3: The aftermath of pitching tent &amp;amp; ngongkronging habits; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/?action=view&amp;amp;current=DSC_4590.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 190px; HEIGHT: 171px" height="726" alt="Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4590.jpg" width="274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/?action=view&amp;amp;current=DSC_4592.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 139px; HEIGHT: 169px" height="690" alt="Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4592.jpg" width="236" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/?action=view&amp;amp;current=DSC_4593.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 144px; HEIGHT: 171px" height="671" alt="Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4593.jpg" width="296" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/?action=view&amp;amp;current=DSC_4604.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 178px; HEIGHT: 176px" height="458" alt="Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4604.jpg" width="491" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/?action=view&amp;amp;current=DSC_4605.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 178px; HEIGHT: 191px" height="417" alt="Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4605.jpg" width="407" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/?action=view&amp;amp;current=DSC_4607.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 201px; HEIGHT: 157px" height="446" alt="Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4607.jpg" width="540" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 204px; HEIGHT: 146px" height="418" alt="Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4618.jpg" width="491" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 242px; HEIGHT: 217px" height="484" alt="Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4622.jpg" width="511" /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 208px; HEIGHT: 143px" height="480" alt="Photobucket" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4623.jpg" width="567" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 207px; HEIGHT: 144px" height="423" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4634.jpg" width="518" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 206px; HEIGHT: 144px" height="477" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4627.jpg" width="487" /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 172px; HEIGHT: 145px" height="759" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4637.jpg" width="342" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no legal party without the booze baby. There's no party without the abundance amount of food. There's no party with no bitches company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chapter 4.1: The Bitch Called Nisha;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 169px; HEIGHT: 196px" height="724" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4615.jpg" width="229" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 189px; HEIGHT: 198px" height="462" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4619.jpg" width="470" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 257px; HEIGHT: 227px" height="460" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4620.jpg" width="490" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 160px; HEIGHT: 227px" height="709" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4636.jpg" width="262" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 197px" height="499" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4645.jpg" width="478" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 159px; HEIGHT: 185px" height="433" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4652.jpg" width="420" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 181px; HEIGHT: 152px" height="470" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4685.jpg" width="395" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 191px; HEIGHT: 153px" height="466" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4686.jpg" width="399" /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 143px; HEIGHT: 153px" height="738" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4713.jpg" width="226" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her signature smile; grinning widely like some stupid bitch with her make up cracking.&lt;br /&gt;And never get her tipsy, she turns into this unpredictable horny monster!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chapter 4.2: The Me &amp;amp; You;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 209px; HEIGHT: 167px" height="440" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4633.jpg" width="574" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 207px; HEIGHT: 188px" height="465" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4653.jpg" width="410" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 195px; HEIGHT: 188px" height="509" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4657.jpg" width="418" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 194px; HEIGHT: 186px" height="496" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4684.jpg" width="524" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 203px; HEIGHT: 206px" height="473" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4696.jpg" width="460" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 205px; HEIGHT: 202px" height="479" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4658.jpg" width="370" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, we're all legal. Me &amp;amp; You; we still got a long way to go. In the past; we've gone through a lot together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Chapter 4.3: The Bodoh called Syaz;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 183px; HEIGHT: 246px" height="712" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4680.jpg" width="282" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 188px; HEIGHT: 248px" height="694" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4681.jpg" width="286" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 190px; HEIGHT: 226px" height="706" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4682.jpg" width="240" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 182px; HEIGHT: 223px" height="682" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4703.jpg" width="306" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Belo will always be belo. I don't know how I ended up befriending a really belo person. Dear God; why do you present me with this gift when I was only 12?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chapter 4.4: The Mortat Called Juls;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 255px; HEIGHT: 167px" height="491" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4641.jpg" width="394" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 163px; HEIGHT: 146px" height="729" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4670.jpg" width="277" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the reason why you don't see her spamming today's post is probably because she was already knocked out by the *insert how many cups of liquor* she took. I won't exposed how many cups she took, go figure it out. So she was suddenly talking rapidly like a bullet train zooming past you, and the next moment she was already laying on the grass, while constantly answering us, "YEAH, IM OKAY."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chapter 4.5: T.G.I.L (Thank God Im Legal)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 238px; HEIGHT: 194px" height="444" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4640.jpg" width="642" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 231px; HEIGHT: 190px" height="495" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4644.jpg" width="488" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 228px; HEIGHT: 165px" height="501" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4651.jpg" width="442" /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 237px; HEIGHT: 163px" height="448" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4647.jpg" width="475" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im the youngest among my GF's and in fact among my circle of friends to turned 18. So yes, that's why Im always the butt of the joke. And know what, when you fcukers turned 40, Im still in my 30s. The beauty of the age. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Chapter 5: The Cake Cutting;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 203px; HEIGHT: 155px" height="443" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4612.jpg" width="565" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 228px; HEIGHT: 163px" height="499" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4672.jpg" width="471" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 203px; HEIGHT: 182px" height="422" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4673.jpg" width="356" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 218px; HEIGHT: 185px" height="431" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4701.jpg" width="487" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wish was to ................&lt;br /&gt;I hope turning 18 would mean something. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chapter 6.1: The Birthday Kiss;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 206px; HEIGHT: 161px" height="443" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4662.jpg" width="535" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 207px; HEIGHT: 158px" height="440" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4663.jpg" width="425" /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 198px; HEIGHT: 179px" height="448" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4664.jpg" width="541" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt like a pimp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chapter 6.2: I kissed a girl and I liked it;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 213px; HEIGHT: 156px" height="417" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4659.jpg" width="498" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 198px; HEIGHT: 156px" height="470" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4709.jpg" width="457" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 213px; HEIGHT: 140px" height="461" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4706.jpg" width="557" /&gt; &lt;img style="WIDTH: 190px; HEIGHT: 143px" height="457" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4707.jpg" width="493" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pictures look freaggingly disgusting to err all of us when we looked upon it again after that night. Haha. It was an impromptu idea by of course the bitch who was tipsy and decided to kiss everyone. Well, that horny monster, what do you expect?! Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I shan't disclose who's the best kisser, and who's the wet one, plus who kisses like as if she's swallowing the other party's mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Try to make a guess who is who. Haha. In words of Katy Perry; I kissed a girl and I liked it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chapter 6.3: The Tipsy Scene;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 268px; HEIGHT: 183px" height="398" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4704.jpg" width="482" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Chapter 7.1: The Tipsyly Ever After Foursome;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 356px; HEIGHT: 257px" height="460" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4699.jpg" width="539" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Chapter 7.2: The Tipsyly Ever After Threesome;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 359px; HEIGHT: 251px" height="465" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/LEGAL%2018/UNRAWR/DSC_4625.jpg" width="589" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of it all, you guys should know. Aku cinta mati sama kamu, bodoh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can never ask for an awesome 18th celebration like this. I can never ask for a great gfs company like them. I can never ask for more, cause I guess they are just awesome and irreplaceable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've come this far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next stop; Our last year of being a teenager! Syaz you're up first! &lt;em&gt;Haha, mati kau dah tua dah nak mampos!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;p/s; This took me about an hour to complete everything. And Sha, hahahaha, I wonder what's the respond like. Amcm friends, nak Katy Perry lagi pe?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-8668748680773523805?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/8668748680773523805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=8668748680773523805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8668748680773523805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8668748680773523805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/11/chapter-1-pitching-tent-bitch-in-dress.html' title='The legal party with the GFs;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-8706247293526465477</id><published>2008-11-24T00:32:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T00:46:44.201+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Breakdown;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SSmF7yV4djI/AAAAAAAAANY/vkepY0iXMXE/s1600-h/boring_by_dholl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271892100986205746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 227px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SSmF7yV4djI/AAAAAAAAANY/vkepY0iXMXE/s400/boring_by_dholl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday- A taste of Singapore Sling; Chillout with old friend @ PRP. (SG SLING SUCK BALLS)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Saturday- Chillout @Changi Chalet with the GFs. (Blackjack &amp;amp; Taitee love)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Sunday- Work. Another mini boozing session. Chillout @ Heaven.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life's been boring. I feel that after I turned legal, there's no more adrenaline rush of underage raid. Since Im finally legal to do most things, there's no more thrill to it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pump me some adrenaline rush. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;p/s; We'll see how it goes. =)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-8706247293526465477?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/8706247293526465477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=8706247293526465477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8706247293526465477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8706247293526465477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/11/breakdown.html' title='Breakdown;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SSmF7yV4djI/AAAAAAAAANY/vkepY0iXMXE/s72-c/boring_by_dholl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-8902745418786143841</id><published>2008-11-19T23:59:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T00:06:32.037+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the pain;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, screw my right leg. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's driving me to my grave. If I could get a leg replacement I would. Hahs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the wee hours of morning, while I was sleeping. My leg was attack by muscle cramp.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thrice in a night, and it felt like I was on my death bed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muscle cramp attacks ain't cool. It hurts like a fcuking bitch. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was attacked by that bitch, I had to jerk my leg out, in hopes it would cease the pain. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I was wrong. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I jerked my leg out, the leg hit the pillar of the bed. Causing me to experience double pain since the scratches hurt badly too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could shout in the middle of the night I would, but the voice got lost within.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hurts like a bitch. Argh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-8902745418786143841?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/8902745418786143841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=8902745418786143841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8902745418786143841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8902745418786143841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/11/pain.html' title='the pain;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-8177801315284536890</id><published>2008-11-19T00:42:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T00:48:17.944+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Privacy invaded;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I just realised my school locker have been pried open. Thank god there wasn't any valuables or fags or anything worthy in fact. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously have no idea how and why the fcuk it was pried open. For starters, out of all the lockers, why mine? But I guess it's okay, it's not as if I used that locker anyway. Im just a tad too lazy to err clear up the dust and stuffs since school started in April. Haha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Im still questioning of my broken locker. I hope the assumptions in my head aren't true or it'll be really weird to face that person. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean I don't even know if I should confront that bugger. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-8177801315284536890?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/8177801315284536890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=8177801315284536890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8177801315284536890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8177801315284536890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/11/privacy-invaded.html' title='Privacy invaded;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-2432139043644043372</id><published>2008-11-17T01:09:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T01:20:56.639+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Got Tagged;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SSBT4MUk5zI/AAAAAAAAANQ/RCLmH1LBhsA/s1600-h/rules.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269303788868790066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 173px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SSBT4MUk5zI/AAAAAAAAANQ/RCLmH1LBhsA/s400/rules.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Puteri tagged me with this, but her template doesn't allow me to copy it. So that's why it is being print screen. Ok that's not important. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing this like god knows when, so never believe the 10 things I put, it's never really close to the truth. Haha. (Or issit?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1- Im weird.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2- Im open yet reserved.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3- Good pretender.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4- Dreams of Putera daily.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5- Eat rice with a fork.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6- Cigarette in between the middle and the ring finger.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7- Need a pillow to cover the face when sleeping.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8- Love to dream or fantasize. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9- Wish to be part of the cartoon world. Perhaps the girlfriend of Ichigo? Or the sidekick of Robin from Teen Titans?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10- Hate reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I tagged everyone on my links or anyone who's bored. Ok go!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, pardon my dissapearance since Friday. I need my own quality time *COUGHS*macamfaham*COUGHS* &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the result of everything; a very nasty accident and now my leg looks horrible. Daym those scratches. Hope it heals soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have to stick to long sleeve for the time being. Pffts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-2432139043644043372?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/2432139043644043372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=2432139043644043372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2432139043644043372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2432139043644043372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-got-tagged.html' title='I Got Tagged;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SSBT4MUk5zI/AAAAAAAAANQ/RCLmH1LBhsA/s72-c/rules.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-7797161684533745366</id><published>2008-11-10T11:36:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T11:45:46.990+08:00</updated><title type='text'>empty &amp; cold;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wondering alone, along the empty streets;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a step at a time to let the atmosphere seeps in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darting my eyes back and forth,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I allow myself to adapt to the cold weather.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pitch black; it's like as if someone had put out all the street lights.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cold; that's the only thing I felt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weird, I thought. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about the fire that has kept me warmth?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Empty within.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart races for feelings to be put to words.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind searches for thoughts of rationality.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-7797161684533745366?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/7797161684533745366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=7797161684533745366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7797161684533745366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7797161684533745366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/11/empty-cold.html' title='empty &amp; cold;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-1296699241400261138</id><published>2008-11-09T10:17:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T10:26:05.134+08:00</updated><title type='text'>short one;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://dumbfcut.deviantart.com/"&gt;http://dumbfcut.deviantart.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After ages of contemplating, I finally got myself a dA account. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very amusing actually.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to think Im nowhere near the Arts industry now. Haha. Irony of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till today, I've been asking myself why the fcuk I took engineering when Im actually a solid- proof physics idiot. It really doesn't make sense, does it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, the doubts are always inevitable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Garhs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoos, I've yet to upload photos of my 18th. It's like 9 days stale already!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok tonight, I shall.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was just too chaotic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, world&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-1296699241400261138?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/1296699241400261138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=1296699241400261138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1296699241400261138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1296699241400261138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/11/short-one.html' title='short one;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-7992634320538337155</id><published>2008-11-06T19:06:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T19:18:23.315+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cause you're;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;'Cause you're the reason,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;while he's an excuse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're the ringing melody in my ears,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;while he's a broken record.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're the flavour in my food,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;while he's the pickles that has turned bad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're the sky that I looked up to,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;while he's the cloud that past me by.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're the ride that brings me joy,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;while he's the trishaw that has broken down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're the ending to my story,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;while he's the introduction that doesn't matter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're the rhymes to my poem,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're the gasoline that keeps me pumping,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're the Superhero that brings me to Utopia,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're you that I love to fall back to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you're everything that matters,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And because you'll always be The Gayman even if you don't want to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apologies if things hasn't been going on okay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-7992634320538337155?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/7992634320538337155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=7992634320538337155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7992634320538337155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7992634320538337155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/11/cause-youre.html' title='Cause you&apos;re;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-6764170910199685832</id><published>2008-11-05T00:26:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T00:33:14.236+08:00</updated><title type='text'>la la la;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ok, this will be very random.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking forward to the US election results! Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly sound very political, but jyeah! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im rooting for Obama. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It'll be coolshit if he happened to win.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprise, surprise, the world is really exciting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to update the photos of my 18th here, but I'll let that pass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's just too many!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will do it very soon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I have to share it since *INSERTWHATEVERPROPERREASONHERE* .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, world; Good Morning!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today will be a very good day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-6764170910199685832?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/6764170910199685832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=6764170910199685832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6764170910199685832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6764170910199685832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/11/la-la-la.html' title='la la la;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-5632890373122383772</id><published>2008-11-03T23:11:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T00:13:08.141+08:00</updated><title type='text'>THREESOME LOVE;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Without you, there'd be no sun in my sky, there would be no love in my life, there'd be no world left of me."&lt;br /&gt;- Leann Rimes&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264450108139391106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SQ8VeylqSII/AAAAAAAAANA/UYUJN--wX7I/s400/ry%253D400.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Dear Syaz &amp;amp; Sha;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This was us back then, when life was so much simpler for the three of us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Do you remember on my 18th; I asked the both of you; "Would we grow old together?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;4 years back when this picture was taken(along those dates okay), I asked you guys the same question too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Each time we spent our life together, I feel this euphoric feeling in me. There's always a fear in me that'll we seperate after O Level, but we didn't. We managed to brave through the odds, and continue to befriends each other. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Somehow our lives entwines and our path of fate crossed one another. My heart has been captured by the both of you and your soul has slowly seep into mine. Thoughts of the both of you lingers on my mind and your well-being dwells in my head. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There's no amount of gratitude and love that I could express to show you how I feel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Yes we've fought, we've fall out countless times, and we've gone through shits; but we always pull it through. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Though, we're on the rocks for the past few months, but I realised this is what make us strong. (Sounds bullshit enough for the three of us, aye?) Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;There's many times in life, where I feel things have changed for the 3 of us, and sadly it truly did.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Yet on my 18th, I realised we're still tight though it's not really the same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;We've laughed, joke ourselves silly, played tricks and bitch about one another, but the three of us being together is all that matters, right?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We've moved on in our lives; yet there's still many things I wish we could do together. Can we at least fulfill our pact of growing old together?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And love, there are really no words to tell you how much I love you and appreciate the both of you. ( Even though you suck the soul out of mine at times and annoy me.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So tonight; 3rd of November; I, Axt(inserts full name here) will make a proposal to the both of you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Would you grow old with me? Through thick and thin, through sorrows and joy, through love and pain? Because I realised, AKU CINTA MATI SAMA KAMU, BODOH.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Please say I do! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Tak cakap I do, aku saikang korang! Haha)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264461498327598626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SQ8f1yWJhiI/AAAAAAAAANI/SteYN-V-b70/s400/DSC_4625.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And this is us, presently. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Imagine the US in the near future; perhaps there'll be more changes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you guys no matter what. Let's enjoy our teen life together. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thats what a friend is for, when your lost in darkness and searching for the light, to help you through those lonely nights, when everything around you fails just hold out your hand, and i'll come running, thats what a friend is for." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Marty Keith&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Kau masih berdiri&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kita masih di sini&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tunjukkan pada dunia&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Arti sahabat&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kau teman sejati&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kita teman sejati&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hadapilah dunia&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Genggam tanganku"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;-Nidji&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;XOXO; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Axt&lt;3&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-5632890373122383772?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/5632890373122383772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=5632890373122383772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5632890373122383772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5632890373122383772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/11/threesome-love.html' title='THREESOME LOVE;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SQ8VeylqSII/AAAAAAAAANA/UYUJN--wX7I/s72-c/ry%253D400.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-3279869118334322042</id><published>2008-11-02T23:22:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T00:05:21.927+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rec &amp; 18th</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SQ3FyiYs-fI/AAAAAAAAAM4/XvQoMzKQucc/s1600-h/rec_movie_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264081011480525298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 283px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SQ3FyiYs-fI/AAAAAAAAAM4/XvQoMzKQucc/s400/rec_movie_poster.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This show is freaking nonsense! I rate this half a star out of five. I wasted 10 bux plus 1hr and 30 mins watching this piece of crap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nisha needs a bloody slap across the forehead because she recommended and drag me down to this show when I badly wanted to watch HSM. Please okay, HSM is so much better than Rec.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cmon, HSM is not childish okay, it's a nice show. At least better than Rec! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I thought it'll at least be freaky, but it wasn't! Daym it. I should have just watched HSM, and let her watch Rec. Daym! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Nisha sayang, you owe me 20 buckx for making me sit through a dumb movie. So much of your, "I see the trailer ah syiok! They use handycam, ah poweer!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Power your head bodoh! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot get over the fact that the movie sucks! And I wasted 10 bucks on it! TEN BUCKS! I could have bought a fcuking box of fags. Or I could top up another 10 bucks and binge on Sakae!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So friends; DO NOT WATCH REC!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes, on a side note; my 3 days plan of party was cut down to 2!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, 2 days of hardcore boozing equates to destruction of tastebuds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 18th was simply havoc. The best of all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially the post-celebration with my lovely GFs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you guys, bodoh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you fellow friends for all the great wishes and small tokens and practically everything. I appreciate it lots especially my night with the GFs. It's the best revival date, I supposed. Let's grow old together, no matter what shits we go through. Let's spread the love and ignore all the bitches that get in our way. (There's a certain amount of reasons behind the statement. Haha)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thank you GM &amp;amp; geng for the Friday night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now; I shall conquer Putera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-3279869118334322042?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/3279869118334322042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=3279869118334322042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3279869118334322042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3279869118334322042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/11/rec-18th.html' title='Rec &amp; 18th'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SQ3FyiYs-fI/AAAAAAAAAM4/XvQoMzKQucc/s72-c/rec_movie_poster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-6296151314020656192</id><published>2008-10-30T23:35:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T23:45:56.747+08:00</updated><title type='text'>86% School Gangster;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;[*]talked back to the teacher even when she was scolding you&lt;br /&gt;[*] gotten a phone taken away in class&lt;br /&gt;[ ] gotten suspended&lt;em&gt; (Almost!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[*] gotten caught chewing gum&lt;br /&gt;[ *] gotten caught cheating on a test&lt;br /&gt;[*] arrived late to class more than 5 times&lt;br /&gt;[*] didn't do homework over 5 times&lt;br /&gt;[*] turned at least 3 projects in late&lt;br /&gt;[*] missed school just because you felt like it&lt;br /&gt;[ ] laughed so loud you got kicked out of class &lt;em&gt;(I was always told to shut up)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[ ] got your mom, dad, etc to get you out of school&lt;br /&gt;[*] text people during class&lt;br /&gt;[*] passed notes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;[*] threw stuff across the room&lt;br /&gt;[*] laughed at the teacher&lt;br /&gt;[*] took pictures during school hours&lt;br /&gt;[*] called someone during school hours&lt;br /&gt;[*] listened to iPod, CD, etc during school hours&lt;br /&gt;[*] threw something at the teacher  &lt;em&gt; (accidentally, counts?)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[*]went outside the classroom without permission&lt;br /&gt;[*] broke the dress code&lt;br /&gt;[*] failed to go to class for lesson&lt;br /&gt;[*] ate food during class&lt;br /&gt;[*] gotten a call from school&lt;br /&gt;[ ] couldn't go on a field trip cause you behaved badly&lt;br /&gt;[*] given a teacher the finger when they weren't looking&lt;br /&gt;[*] swore during class/school&lt;br /&gt;[*] forged your parents signature&lt;em&gt; (In sec school, usually it's PE time! Haha)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[*] slept in class&lt;br /&gt;[*] cursed at your teacher&lt;br /&gt;[*] copied homework&lt;br /&gt;[*] got in trouble with the principal/vice principal or DM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Total so far:28&lt;br /&gt;Multiply by 3*&lt;br /&gt;post as __% school gangster&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Haha, you'll be lying if you tell me you have never done any of this. Haha. The good ol' days. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-6296151314020656192?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/6296151314020656192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=6296151314020656192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6296151314020656192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6296151314020656192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/10/86-school-gangster.html' title='86% School Gangster;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-3794995048978093325</id><published>2008-10-30T23:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T23:21:04.353+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Party lover!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;If things goes well, the party will begin starting tomorrow, ending on Sunday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I LOVE!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Party! Party! Party!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;All in the name of celebration.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-3794995048978093325?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/3794995048978093325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=3794995048978093325' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3794995048978093325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3794995048978093325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/10/party-lover.html' title='Party lover!'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-8082477875281219600</id><published>2008-10-29T00:52:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T00:58:46.595+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;For some bloody unknown reasons, Im getting myself addicted once again to Crazy Baby by Fantasy Project. I know right, like what the fcuk, techno? But I guess the song is cool and all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;suspect it's the stories behind it that got me hooked.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And due to no language classes in school, I think I have a problem with communicating and spelling, vocab and grammar and basically everything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, for some reason, I feel weird when Im on Msn, cause I'll use short forms, and at times I get myself confused with the right spellings and the wrong ones. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My words are getting more rojak for both the English and Malay language, I feel hopeless. Haha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But seriously, at times I can stare at the words for a few minutes, before typing it or writing it down, cause it'll look wrong. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, nights human.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-8082477875281219600?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/8082477875281219600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=8082477875281219600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8082477875281219600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8082477875281219600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/10/crazy-baby.html' title='Crazy Baby'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-7690772751818380822</id><published>2008-10-21T14:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T15:01:38.884+08:00</updated><title type='text'>mimi love;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 340px; HEIGHT: 235px" height="533" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/MimiLove.jpg" width="486" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a sucky first attempt, I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know how vector works, but I guess Im contented with this. Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at least Mimi still looks cute in this picture. I managed to err, preserve his cuteness in this photo despite the sucky attempt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the background isn't mine. I forgot where I took it from.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; And yesterday, while I was in class, I kept on wondering why the fcuk I took engineering up when I have no physics background. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I must be crazy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-7690772751818380822?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/7690772751818380822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=7690772751818380822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7690772751818380822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7690772751818380822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/10/mimi-love.html' title='mimi love;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-2208934261287682462</id><published>2008-10-19T23:28:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T00:09:33.714+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Devotion &amp; Desires;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPtWAb1PmlI/AAAAAAAAAMw/wFSNYLp-CTg/s1600-h/_Trance_Pivot_Romance__by_Delurianne.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258891555356252754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPtWAb1PmlI/AAAAAAAAAMw/wFSNYLp-CTg/s400/_Trance_Pivot_Romance__by_Delurianne.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; You never fail to bring blithe into my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You held me high, steal my pain away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You brought me to Utopia and let the feeling of euphoria rain on me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im never tired of this awesome shit affair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're just the best daym thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like how I always say; you always infiltrate my empty mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for everything. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am as per always sangkut with you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHA!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-2208934261287682462?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/2208934261287682462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=2208934261287682462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2208934261287682462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2208934261287682462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/10/devotion-desires.html' title='Devotion &amp; Desires;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPtWAb1PmlI/AAAAAAAAAMw/wFSNYLp-CTg/s72-c/_Trance_Pivot_Romance__by_Delurianne.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-988114299897734821</id><published>2008-10-19T13:24:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-19T13:33:30.667+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of wishes;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPrEwPzuFMI/AAAAAAAAAMo/Y2DnLEDvL8k/s1600-h/EYA13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258731848064701634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPrEwPzuFMI/AAAAAAAAAMo/Y2DnLEDvL8k/s400/EYA13.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; As you can see, this brother of mine is officially a teenager as of 19th October. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May you be blessed in your journey of teenagehood and may you succeed in being the world's famous noob. Haha. All the best bro. May your brain produce more annoying little scams, but no thanks to your irritating little jokes. Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Ain't he the sweetest thing? Posing with those cute soft toys. Awwww. I can never trade him for anything. Haha. I hope your friends read this and realised the gayish side of yours. Lol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onto another note; I had the most wonderful dream. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You never failed to bring blithe into my life. The best daym thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is trully blissed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Till next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-988114299897734821?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/988114299897734821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=988114299897734821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/988114299897734821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/988114299897734821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/10/of-wishes.html' title='Of wishes;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPrEwPzuFMI/AAAAAAAAAMo/Y2DnLEDvL8k/s72-c/EYA13.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-1154645306337020645</id><published>2008-10-16T00:36:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T00:37:58.743+08:00</updated><title type='text'>happy fcuker;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;MY LIFE IS AWESOME AT THE MOMENT.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS IS BLISS. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MY WHEEL OF LIFE IS AT THE TOP.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAYBE IT'S THE PRE-CELEBRATION FEELING. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM SO BAHAGIA, REALLY. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I MISS YOU BADLY.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-1154645306337020645?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/1154645306337020645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=1154645306337020645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1154645306337020645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1154645306337020645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/10/happy-fcuker.html' title='happy fcuker;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-3286831630994227297</id><published>2008-10-14T00:43:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T01:12:16.993+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My words of war;</title><content type='html'>Ok, I was happily posting out my last entry and I thought, the war has subside. But this Nora girl just doesn't seem to stop. I've had my last say aeons ago, and now she's back preaching about all this stuffs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cmon, I've already given you my last words, but you're fcuking not satisfied, I see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For fcuk's sake, I don't have time for this. But you know what, this is it, you step on the line. Kau da kenape? You're not satisfied that Im not at all shaken by your silly words about bitching and stuffs? That I don't feel a slight remorse on my part?! Why should I fcuking feel guilty about what I did when I fcuking did nothing except to voice out my opinion. My blog, my say. But you, you invade my space and talk like as if you know it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they know me well?! Sial ah, they know me so much better than Shira knows me. Stop making a fool out of yourself can? Your words will never shake me or bring me down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku tengah bahagia for what I did to her?! FOR FCUK'S SAKE, you think this is the kindergarten stage eh? Wait, correction, FOR YEARS?! Fcuk you, bitch. Why don't you ask her what she did to me for years?! Have I EVER MENTION THAT PART? HAVE YOU EVER HEARD THAT PART OF THE STORY? I doubt so, so stop yakking away you piece of moron. I was nice, I play a civilised, grown up human being, but you just had to stop me from giving you that privillege.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tak tahu cerita, tkmo bbual. Tkmo macam faham. Don't talk as if you're playing this angel with halo on top of your head. Kau bukan malaikat, kau manusia biasa jugak. And please take note; everyone wants to be innocent. So tkmo pusing cerita and try to put the blame all on me and giving Shira this angellic look while Im always on the wrong. Stop it siak. Cause hey, I still remember what she did to me but I never said anything about it. I live and let live, and if she isn't happy about what I voice out, tell her to call me up and fcuk me upside down. Cause making you as a third party irritates me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lagi-lagi since kau tak tahu cerita abey nak step maner nyer power kan. Sorry ah, I sound childish, but the only way to deal with people like you is to make you understand in a simple manner. You don't know no fcuk and then you talk as if you know me since I was born. Basi dey prangai mu. Prangai pecah to the fcuking core.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And seriously tkmo macamfaham saying you pray to god and stuffs. You know what, like you said this is Karma. What goes around comes around eh? Ah so this is her karma for always treating me like piece of shit. There, I've said. And I pray you'll die from fits for being too kpo and being ms-know-it-all-yang-sungguh-macam-faham. I hope my prayer come true. Oh, I feel so angellic now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Lagipon, what did I fcuking do to her for years?! Sial ah, crappy bodoh kau. Sesungguhnya kau lah manusia paling macamfaham.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't preach about God and Islam when you aren't fit to do so. Please eh, tkmo macam faham ah. I cannot find any other words to describe you except mrepek. Mrepek bodoh kau. Kalau kau sembahyang 5 waktu, tak maki, pakaian tertutop, buat amal ibadah, tk perna bitch about other and all those things healthy Muslimah do then you can open your trap and talk me like you're some kind of fcuking innocent preacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're not, FEEL FREE TO SOLAT AND HOPE GOD OPEN YOUR EYES AND HEART. And God will know that you just fitnah me about saying I did all those crappy stuffs to Shira when it's vice versa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like you said, God will always know. So beware! Oooh, I feel angellic sebagai malaikat. Wah, I just preach, Im innocent! Craps. (Please note that my words are dripping with sarcasm)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And ni lahr, now God is balas-ing all her kejahatan what through me. Gawd, you're fcuking crappy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nak sebut-sebut pasal agama, belom tentu kau tu betol sangat. Why don't you use your own advice, look yourself in the mirror and reflect who you really are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, please feel free to fcuk off from my life. And IF I WAS REALLY this fcuking evil bitch like how you put me, then probably I wouldn't even acknowledge her salam just now when we happened to meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And stop 'nice to know me' shits with me. Basa-basi tk perlu. You can just go jolly well fcuk off and put me in the wrong. No need to go through the painful ordeal of berbasa-basi'ing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lau masih tk puas hati, ask Shira to call me herself. Die tkda mulut nk bbual sendiri? Why must you play the malaikat one, Nora?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a piece of advice, whatever advices you've given me, use it for yourself. And whatever shits you've preach, why don't you, yourself try practicing it. PLEASE, IM BEGGING YOU! You're in need of your own advice and preaches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say you step on the line, it doesn't mean Im shaken by your words. Im just amused that this time round, you bring GOD into the picture. Banyak bbual banyak bohong ah gang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you understand all the words I've just said. I tried to use as many malay words as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please feel free, to reply me when you need to. Im just looking forward to your words of wisdom. Oh, I feel fcuking blessed to have met you. What a kind Muslim to be reminding me of what Islam is all about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STOP IT SIAK. MY BLOG URL IS DEDICATED TO PEOPLE LIKE YOU. SO YES, TKMO-MACAMFAHAM LAHR NORA.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-3286831630994227297?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/3286831630994227297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=3286831630994227297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3286831630994227297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3286831630994227297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-words-of-war.html' title='My words of war;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-333750921404734474</id><published>2008-10-14T00:12:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-14T00:39:01.488+08:00</updated><title type='text'>starlight, starbright;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, there's 6 things which I really want right now. Since it's 17 more days to you-know-what, I shall update the &lt;em&gt;want list&lt;/em&gt;. I might never know which kind souls would get it for me. If you don't know what to get for me, then this six items would be the perfect gift. Like for the first ever fcuking time, Im telling you humans what I want. Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;1) &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256673850212538626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 216px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 216px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="259" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPN1BAYA2QI/AAAAAAAAAL4/xlb-X5BDTaI/s400/ShoeiHelmetRF1000.jpg" width="245" border="0" /&gt;Helmet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A helmet would be good since I don't want to use the helmets at the driving centre. Cmon, it's a great gift, a black helmet would be nice. Haha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;2) &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256674857990028034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 290px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 221px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="258" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPN17qo4-wI/AAAAAAAAAMA/ei43dbZ4ifk/s400/nikon_coolpix_p_80.jpg" width="308" border="0" /&gt;Nikon coolpix P80.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;DSLR can wait, but P80 is the best camera that I would really love to own. DSLR is freagging expensive and I don't really know if I want to get it at this moment. But P80! It's a must have. This would suffice my camera needs. Haha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;3) &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256675415749337730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="219" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPN2cIdEooI/AAAAAAAAAMI/9qD9vW1nyKE/s400/holga.jpg" width="302" border="0" /&gt;Holga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A holga would be nice as well. I don't really know which Holga I really want to own, but I guess any type would do. Film is the in thing. Haha. And it's affordable!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;4)&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256675856253394674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPN21xdbHvI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/irQq0k0vnWg/s400/samsung-g400.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Samsung G400.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I just want this sleek phone to be mine. That's all. If this is mine, I promise I'll be good. Honest! This baby is so sleek, that I think Im willing to starve in order to save money. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;5)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256676785794715330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 211px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 228px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="303" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPN3r4RWDsI/AAAAAAAAAMY/A8GOKvPJ5xI/s400/028fredperrypm8.jpg" width="335" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fred Perry shoe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Orgasm seow! No words can describe this the best except orgasm!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;6) &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256677214368030306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="231" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPN4E01L3mI/AAAAAAAAAMg/hvmWKgAOjGM/s400/tzm_06.jpg" width="368" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;TZM, BITCH!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least, I'll love you to death if you can get me this! TZM, BABY! It's M! Orgasm! This would be the best birthday present ever okay! Any sponsors? Haha. I'll be super good if this is mine! Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17 more days, and Putera baby will be mine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPNzqBMhl0I/AAAAAAAAALQ/q5T2BzMVIgo/s1600-h/nikon_coolpix_p_80.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPNzqImZ-_I/AAAAAAAAALg/l2al3Ky1zZY/s1600-h/028fredperrypm8.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPNzqTrp6EI/AAAAAAAAALo/6M3f5PgMqZg/s1600-h/samsung-g400.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-333750921404734474?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/333750921404734474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=333750921404734474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/333750921404734474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/333750921404734474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/10/starlight-starbright.html' title='starlight, starbright;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SPN1BAYA2QI/AAAAAAAAAL4/xlb-X5BDTaI/s72-c/ShoeiHelmetRF1000.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-1152666036211809042</id><published>2008-10-13T00:46:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T01:11:35.322+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random giler;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/house+bunny" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="the house bunny Pictures, Images and Photos" src="http://i290.photobucket.com/albums/ll265/wiixue888/stupidyethilarious.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I've watched this twice on the theatre, and I got laughed at. Haha. It's hilarious shit okay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I forget; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 329px; HEIGHT: 437px" height="476" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/DSC_3383.jpg" width="365" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Happy 22nd! You're not getting any younger eh tua. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 321px; HEIGHT: 543px" height="779" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/DSC_3385.jpg" width="343" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 18th! Go get your license quick! &lt;em&gt;Ok, kinda belated to shoutout your birthday to the whole world.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morning, world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18 more days for Putera.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-1152666036211809042?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/1152666036211809042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=1152666036211809042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1152666036211809042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1152666036211809042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/10/random-giler.html' title='Random giler;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-2652158662367805901</id><published>2008-10-11T10:57:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T12:07:36.686+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Talk is cheap;</title><content type='html'>Im amazed at the amount of time they put their soul in this imbecile war. And Im more amazed that they actually knew the word etiquette. I couldn't really comprehend what they're trying to put across. I don't seem to catch their drift with all those craps. My brain filter bullshits and craps. I told Nisha to do the honor of doing the grand finale, but she told me otherwise. She said I'll be just the same; using a third party to deal with things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But to be honest, I had a hard time retaliating. Now, that amazes me too. Don't get me wrong, I would have answered them pronto, but I couldn't comprehend them. Look at the horrendous malay language that they're using. Not to mention their english. Nisha and I had to read through carefully to understand them. And I thought my malay was the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Up Above; why did you leave me with two noobs to deal with? Actually 3 including the intended other party. But this two unintended company is making me suffer. Boo hoo. How crappy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Nora, bitching doesn't makes you a bitch. I didn't even proclaim my friends and I goes under the category of being a bitch. I would have explain to you, but Im afraid you might not understand me. So look up for the word bitch in the dictionary. If dictionary is hard to comprehend, try the Dwibahasa kamus. It work wonders! I think that might help you in further understanding it before you try to use it. Im just suggesting so you wouldn't make a fool out of yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your opinion doesn't matter to me or to the rest of the world in fact. Cause it's unconstructive and it's dumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My looks doesn't matter. This is 2008, it's all about the brains. Obviously looks can be altered in anyway you want with the help of modern technology. As you age, looks will gradually fade, but intelligence doesn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And typical malay lady? I shall thank you for calling me a lady. Now, you must be wondering why the fuck, I thank you. A lady by definition generally refers to a female who is refined, polite and well-spoken. And a lady is referred to as chivalrous devotion. So that's the irony of your words. I don't understand how a typical malay lady is, cause just so you know, Im not exactly a malay. But you know, it's like the pot calling the kettle black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Popular girls? Kau tinggal zaman ape? This is SG, not some European countries where teens are judge by popularity and social class. This is SG, teens are judge academically. You watch too much chick flick. And everyone bitch, including yourself. You're lying if you say you don't. Even the intended company bitches about me. See, this is how the world works.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel sad for both of you, invading my cyberspace abode and then claiming Im deprived of attention. I think you're the one who is deprived of attention so you're turning to me to give it all to you. I feel honoured. My life isn't a sad one, it's rocking balls. Everyone knows that, except for you hermits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the pleasure is all mine, Nora. I must thank fate, for giving me chance to meet the both of you. Feel free to continue being my avid reader. I thank you for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I don't need to get a life, cause Im already living my life. But the both of you, should really start living your life instead of trying to live mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your time, your kind words, and your two cents worth of opinions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-2652158662367805901?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/2652158662367805901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=2652158662367805901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2652158662367805901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2652158662367805901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/10/talk-is-cheap.html' title='Talk is cheap;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-4335525850769510683</id><published>2008-10-10T02:49:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-10T03:27:11.883+08:00</updated><title type='text'>BANYAK BEBUAL, BANYAK BOHONG;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I shall dedicate this post to the best hatetaggers I've ever got. In the whole of my blogging life, never once did anyone hatetag me about my post. So this is the first, and what's funny is that it just had to be the post that I was ranting on and on cause I was having a major bitchfits. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Popetzzz &amp;amp; Scientis (what kind of crappy hatetagger name is that?);&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok that is beside the point. Actually, I don't know why I bother replying, maybe cause I want to prove Im brave to stand up to the two of you who's hiding behind a bloody screen. Or maybe, I have time to spare. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok sorry to digress, now here's my take. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the fact that there's such thing as IP adress and timing of the tags; I assume both of you are either the same person with different screen name. Maybe I should give you two a little credit, maybe you just happened to tag minutes after. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Im assuming you're a friend or you happened to know the bitch Im referring to, cause I do not see any hate tags for the pariah dog, so yeah. That proves my hypothesis. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So please explain why I should be jealous in the first place? Is there anything special about her that I have to be jealous? And what the craps is Popetzzz talking about? "psl awak tak laku kan? huh. kesian.."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huh? Ape cakap?! Kindly rephrase the structure, then maybe it'll be easier for me to comprehend, and so that this trivial argumentative could be going on like a spitfire. And thanks to Popetzzz though, cause you took the time to actually analyse whether my bitching skills was good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Scientis; if you really read the whole of my entries you would have probably realised how old I am. So Im assuming you're trying to say Im some kind of anak a.b.u, and Im losing my sense of reality and maturity completely. In other words, you're trying to say Im childish and immature? What about yourself? Did you really believe that someone who's mature and grown up would take up a crappy screen name for a hate tag? I doubt so actually. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, if you've read the whole of my entries, there isn't actually any bitching. Even if I did bitch, my friends have already read about it, yet they seem okay with it. Bitching is in my friends' nature. I believe that this is actually my first ever bitching post made public for 2008. So don't try to crap your way through.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And whatever you believe is entirely up to you, it doesn't apply to me. Stop preaching like you're this saint little angel with halo hanging on top of your head. If karma hits me hard one day, probably it wouldn't be about this little trivial post. Tsk. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh before I forgot, thank you Scientis, cause you've actually took the time to read my whole entries, and yes Im enjoying my fcuking life and I hope you're enjoying it too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this is all the time I have. Please kirim salam, peluk, cium to the bitch that you're trying so hard to protect. She just made me famous! Im thankful for that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I welcome bitchfight anytime, but please use your real name next time. It makes war so much pleasant and lovely. Like they say talk is cheap. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just in case you're wondering why the fcuk I did a major bitchfits was because it pains me to see my GF suffering because of the bitch. The two of you should know by now what Im talking about, or you can just ask the bitch herself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for your time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im looking forward to your replies. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-4335525850769510683?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/4335525850769510683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=4335525850769510683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4335525850769510683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4335525850769510683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/10/banyak-bebual-banyak-bohong.html' title='BANYAK BEBUAL, BANYAK BOHONG;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-2284092097664664150</id><published>2008-10-05T22:15:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T10:15:07.827+08:00</updated><title type='text'>BITCHFITS;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SOjMw8pQ8XI/AAAAAAAAALA/TYe9Lpj3DTE/s1600-h/I_kill_u_by_malinowomi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253674106612674930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SOjMw8pQ8XI/AAAAAAAAALA/TYe9Lpj3DTE/s400/I_kill_u_by_malinowomi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Im about to have a major bitchfits. I need to bitch on purpose. For some unknown reasons, my bitchmode has been triggered by morons who do not have any better things to do except to bitch about and feigning innocence. I know this is low, but who fcuking cares! I have two issues to bitch about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) To dearest girl human; I believe you suck. Haha. Of course I can do better than that. And Im about to get to it. Maybe since this is the month of forgiving, I shall spare you a bit of decency due to the kindness of my nature. (HAHAHAHA)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't being sarcastic in the first place, so you can stop complaining to your freagging BF about it. If you have the guts (which I know you don't), you would have probably shot me your unhapiness straight to my face, but you chose to go 1 big round. And please, just because I kept myself quiet doesn't mean I find you in the right. You gave me a bucket of bullshits, and you expect me to believe those shits. Now, everyone knows how bitchy you can get. So there, as the old saying goes, a leopard doesn't change it's spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh by the way, if you want to change then probably you should instill some bravery into yourself. Probably you could ask the Wizard of Oz some heart so you'll have the courage. And if you do want to change, then please, please do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how your BF told you to avoid your friends if you really want to change, because I think that's craps. If somehow that could change you, it's the same as telling me that SG would snow by next year. Haha. In the first fcuking place, you're worst than us. Who's the two-headed snake? Who's a bitch? Doesn't all that spells you?! I HOPE YOU FCUKING READ THIS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you change, I hope you don't go around taking your friends for granted financially. Because well, you're a fcuking bitch. I don't know how guys can fall for you. Oh yeah, I forgot, because it's due to your sweet nature? Gawd, you're full of craps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that was true, why don't you run down the streets, talk to a random guy, and let's see if he will fall for you. And hey, please don't go to some kucing kurap, because we know that's the kinda guys you attract.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're not someone who we could fall back and cry on, you're just an ornament that pleases, but it'll gradually fades. So losing you, isn't something of a big deal. Plus, you weren't much of a friend either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) To the fcuking Pariah Dog; giving you respect would mean Im dumb. I don't really know what to say to you, cause we aren't on the same par. Im afraid, you can't comprehend me. Wait, I don't know if you read this, because well, you're apparently the most stupidest matrep I've met. Who in the fcuking world has spelling problem as bad as yours?! Even my 10 year old sister spell better than you. I didn't know cab is spelt as cap, and God is spelt as got. You bloody stupid low-life pariah dog. And please, if you fcuking think you can mess with me, you're fcuking wrong. (Actually I really scared. Later he ask his matrep friends beat me how?! I scared seow! Of course in SG, the law is always behind the innocents. HAHA)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I like it when you said, "Eh you don't talk to me like you're some fcuking gangster!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It means I have the potential to be a gangster huh? Well, at least I know I'll turn out to be an intelligent gangster with higher IQ than you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, Im not some fcuking gangster. Im actually some fcuking mafia. Gangster? Wah, you really ulu. Like you matreps put it; TIME LAMBAT SEOW GANGSTER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I pray and hope that you'll get well from that imbecile state of mind of yours. I cannot believe you're fcuking 19 with no fcukin brains. You piece of shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you die because an animal mistaken you for some stupid dog, and kill you off. Wait, your intelligence could not even be compared to a dog, because a dog is smarter than you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do you say? I wish you could read this, but by the time you finish this whole entry, 2009 would already have arrived. And by the time you ask your matrep friends to beat me up, it would already be too late. And please, you can bungkus all your world matrep stories together with your brain. Im not 4 year old who gets deceived easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think I should get you Brain Booster and Fair &amp;amp; Lovely cream, so hopefully, you'll gain some IQ, and your black skin would turn fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you can finally comprehend me, and speak basic english, then you may talk and bash me up. I don't want to waste my intelligence on a low-life creature like yourself. Tsk. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-2284092097664664150?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/2284092097664664150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=2284092097664664150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2284092097664664150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2284092097664664150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/10/bitchfits.html' title='BITCHFITS;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SOjMw8pQ8XI/AAAAAAAAALA/TYe9Lpj3DTE/s72-c/I_kill_u_by_malinowomi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-346973129107245222</id><published>2008-10-05T02:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T02:23:44.656+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Speeding cars;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;IM ABOUT TO HAVE A MAJOR BF&lt;em&gt;(BITCHFITS).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I guess Im in my infatile state of mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-346973129107245222?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/346973129107245222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=346973129107245222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/346973129107245222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/346973129107245222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/10/speeding-cars.html' title='Speeding cars;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-5165322442085536540</id><published>2008-09-30T03:04:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T03:54:15.938+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SOFT TOYZXZXZ;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ok, everyone knows that Im not a fan for soft toys or any cuddly cute stuffs for that matter. Cute stuffs and me doesn't rock together. That's just how we roll. I'll be like some laughing stock if I happened to own any.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I do own a few soft toys. I have about 4, I think. And I never bought any one of this soft toys. That's somewhat crazy, I think. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have this pink Astroboy which I got it when I was 15. Back then, I had this huge craze for Astroboy. And don't bother asking why it's pink. I think it's some kind of a joke, cause everyone knows I have a fair share of disliking pink. But the friend who bought it was so into pink that she thought it'll be cool for me to own pink Astroboy. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251527358373616658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="231" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SOEsTwQa3BI/AAAAAAAAAKo/xhKIW_3EgC8/s400/30092008001.jpg" width="335" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(The Palm-sized Astroboy)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have this Spongebob sitting on a jellyfish. I got it when I was 15 too. I have no idea how I got it. It sort of magically appears one fine day. So I had to place it nicely on my shelf. Weird, I know. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251527826552342642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 269px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 189px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="237" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SOEsvAW7SHI/AAAAAAAAAKw/rFpmTSHDpjQ/s400/30092008002.jpg" width="279" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(The slightly bigger than palm-sized Spongebob. And it's great when you place your watch around the jellyfish. Looks great, really)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third soft toy is this Burberry bear that's been in the room for ages. I think I got it at about 8. The matriach has kept the Burberry shirt that's on the bear. So I can jolly well say that the bear is naked. Haha. No current picture, cause my annoying younger sister dumped it somewhere. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The fourth one is err this white fluffy bear that I've hid it in the cupboard for quite a long time. I think Im going to dispose it soon. Got it when I was about 14. I think it's time to throw it away. Haha. It carries my initial 'A' with it though. I've never showed it to anyone, so don't think this time would be any difference.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And now, I have the 5th one joining in the collection (Ok, the fourth one since Im disposing the current fourth one. Makes sense?)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Please give a round of applause to this hugeass Pooh.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251530195454827506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SOEu45NSm_I/AAAAAAAAAK4/FKupV7lZkbA/s400/30092008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And now I can say that I have this hugeass Pooh when Im 17. He's about 1/3 of my height. The tallest and biggest soft toy that I owned. I named him &lt;em&gt;Gembol&lt;/em&gt;, cause he's fat and cuddly. There's an instant chemistry between me and him. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;He now resides in my bed. He occupies the whole side of the bed actually. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;He makes a great punching bag, really. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And I still cannot believe that I got this huge Pooh in my room. It clashes the identity. Haha. But, it's cute, I have to admit that. Too bad it ain't Astroboy, or I would have love him more. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And I've no idea why I got a Pooh actually. The cartoon doesn't appeal to me in any way.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;But, the whole purpose of this entry is to thank dear whoever for the hugeass Pooh. Thank you very much, dear whoever. &lt;em&gt;(Pretty lengthy for a thank you note. Haha)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The Pooh rock ballzxzzxzxz. (Another zxzxz attempt)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-5165322442085536540?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/5165322442085536540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=5165322442085536540' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5165322442085536540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5165322442085536540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/09/soft-toyzxzxz.html' title='SOFT TOYZXZXZ;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SOEsTwQa3BI/AAAAAAAAAKo/xhKIW_3EgC8/s72-c/30092008001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-6691789518785183113</id><published>2008-09-28T02:17:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T02:36:11.875+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Running errands;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My biological clock is screwed like terribly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im awake till at least 7 in the morning, or later than that, depending on the time I put down the phone. Then I'll sleep like a log till about 11 or noon. And it continues all over again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get tired easily, maybe it's in the long run of consuming fags or it's just the laziness that seeps into me due to the holy month. Either way, Im beginning to wear out faster than you can count down to Eid Mubarak. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, onto another note; I had to run errands for the whole of today. I should be paid for doing all of this. Suck balls. And I had to run errand on a Saturday! It would have been okay, if the brother's RVF is around, but NO! I had to bloody walk with him. And that's only the evening errand okay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make matters worse, he had to get the daym fags in front of me since he couldn't fast due to painkillers and medication for his 2nd degree burn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at least I know he's shouldering all my sins for that. Haha. That's a good point. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today suck ballszxzxzzxz! (Note the zxzxzxz. HAHA!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morning, World!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-6691789518785183113?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/6691789518785183113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=6691789518785183113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6691789518785183113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6691789518785183113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/09/running-errands.html' title='Running errands;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-4068913462109701245</id><published>2008-09-26T20:46:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T22:00:53.814+08:00</updated><title type='text'>affairs of the heart;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SNza04ucvnI/AAAAAAAAAKY/RYe0BhT2cVU/s1600-h/in_love__by_poop_art.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250311867722415730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SNza04ucvnI/AAAAAAAAAKY/RYe0BhT2cVU/s400/in_love__by_poop_art.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know how to start this, but I have this sense of urgency to let it all spill.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been months since we're in this, and not once did I feel that it's a stale affair. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday night, your words gave me the best comforting feeling that I could have ever felt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Your words have always gave the comforting reason that I need. It doesn't provide me strength(you and I, we both know that's not how it works.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday night, when you spilled everything out, I felt the electrifying sensation in me. The warmth that had always been there. Your words, they always drip with humour and love, no matter how serious you put it. Especially now in the time of my mid-life crisis, your words gave the best comfort. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how we fall out and then make up. It's funny how you make me smile and then you bring pain all over again. It's funny how you blow off the flame and then help me to lit it up all over again. It's funny how at one time we're strangers, then friends, and then move on to lovers, and then start all over again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know, Im never tired of this. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot promise you I'll bring the same blithe like how you always do. I cannot promise things will end in a paradisiacal manner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know, you've added the sweetest accounts into my hordes of memorabilia. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know, you always infiltrate my empty mind. Your smile captivates me, your eyes mesmerise me, your words, they inspire me. Your presence alone, electrify me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to hold you high and steal your pain away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll walk through the ending together, this I promise. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thank you for yesterday night, thank you for everything. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-4068913462109701245?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/4068913462109701245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=4068913462109701245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4068913462109701245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4068913462109701245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/09/affairs-of-heart.html' title='affairs of the heart;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SNza04ucvnI/AAAAAAAAAKY/RYe0BhT2cVU/s72-c/in_love__by_poop_art.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-5486452797683890752</id><published>2008-09-26T04:27:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T04:29:30.005+08:00</updated><title type='text'>morning glory</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I cannot believed I managed to tweak layouts after gazillion years! However, twitter is damaged somehow or rather.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And yeah, my biological clock is screwed badly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I shall have a proper update later, if possible. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Morning world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-5486452797683890752?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/5486452797683890752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=5486452797683890752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5486452797683890752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5486452797683890752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/09/morning-glory.html' title='morning glory'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-4040687333764794317</id><published>2008-09-25T03:50:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T04:02:03.736+08:00</updated><title type='text'>FLY AWAY MY 1K;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Okay, I think it's time to rearrange the stuffs here, in TMF. However, I don't know how long that'll be since I have to ransack my mind for html codes before I tweak this layout. You know, since Eid Mubarak is around, I think it's time for a layout change too. Like how they put it, getting into the mood of festivity and of course to dump all the bad luck. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2008 hasn't been good, but the holy month have prove to be magical as always. Maybe, it's just the mindset, I don't know. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well that aside, I've yet to receive a call from the alma mater for my collection of art piece. Wah, this is getting me mad. I've graduated 2 years ago, and it's like taking the teacher aeons to give my work back. And don't get me started on how long I've waited for the teacher at the daym office. Gawd, so much for "I'll tell her to get back to you asap." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall wait patiently.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've just gambled 1k away! Power right. My earnings? Wasn't much, but it was enough to satisfy the devil in me. Haha. Goodbye dear 1k. I shall earn you back again, someday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MOM, I WANT TO BE A DAYM MAFIA WHEN I GROW UP!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s; I just realised this is the longest rant so far after how many posts. Weird.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-4040687333764794317?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/4040687333764794317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=4040687333764794317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4040687333764794317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4040687333764794317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/09/fly-away-my-1k.html' title='FLY AWAY MY 1K;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-2594470904242152342</id><published>2008-09-23T01:15:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T01:58:56.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ORGASM, ORGASM, ORGASM!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SNfVaKSLg7I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/2-WahtDmckU/s1600-h/bikepics-64432-320.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248898536137524146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SNfVaKSLg7I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/2-WahtDmckU/s400/bikepics-64432-320.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SNfVaZh2ojI/AAAAAAAAAKA/jrWNSQPOJPc/s1600-h/bikepics-549116-320.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SNfVapaRcQI/AAAAAAAAAKI/HYJGCCxtl_U/s1600-h/bikepics-776067-320.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248898544492966146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SNfVapaRcQI/AAAAAAAAAKI/HYJGCCxtl_U/s400/bikepics-776067-320.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SNfVake9-oI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/-aeFYNDLg9k/s1600-h/bikepics-109406-320.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248898543170484866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SNfVake9-oI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/-aeFYNDLg9k/s400/bikepics-109406-320.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; Orgasm siao!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I have a question why is it shop dealers doesn't want to handle TZM? Im counting down to the day I can enrol a fcuking license. (Read: Enrol not pass) I feel deprived. Most of my friends are on their way to passing, or on their way to purchase a bike. Unfair. Why must I be born late in the year? Sighs. But of course, when we're older, they'll complain of aging, I can deffinitely laugh at them then. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok enough digression; I want the bike badly. Everyday, all I can do is oogle at those bikes on the road. I don't want to be the one oogling, I want to be the one riding it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think speed, think roadtrips!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, this two-wheel machine will be mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like how Gary puts it, four-wheel machine always get in the way, I love my two-wheel machine the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't want to be the pillain of your ride, I want to be the bitch who drive you mad. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't want a guy to make me high, I want a bike to make me fly.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;p/s Putera baby, be mine!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-2594470904242152342?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/2594470904242152342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=2594470904242152342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2594470904242152342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2594470904242152342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/09/orgasm-orgasm-orgasm.html' title='ORGASM, ORGASM, ORGASM!'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SNfVaKSLg7I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/2-WahtDmckU/s72-c/bikepics-64432-320.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-6159254365153418116</id><published>2008-09-20T03:27:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T03:43:06.066+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thursday Baby;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SNP9_v8BjbI/AAAAAAAAAJo/GmMHfO4c3EM/s1600-h/MakeItHappen-Art001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247817262458572210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SNP9_v8BjbI/AAAAAAAAAJo/GmMHfO4c3EM/s400/MakeItHappen-Art001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Watch this on Thursday. It was boring, but the dancemoves were pretty awesome. So yeah, didn't really like it. Step Up was so much better. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Anyhoo, I want to watch this;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247818638338175826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SNP_P1fSM1I/AAAAAAAAAJw/5E30TO7RygQ/s400/hana2vo6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok dah, that's all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;p/s; Putera Tazmanian Al-Sonic, would be mine! Hehe. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-6159254365153418116?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/6159254365153418116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=6159254365153418116' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6159254365153418116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6159254365153418116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/09/thursday-baby.html' title='Thursday Baby;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SNP9_v8BjbI/AAAAAAAAAJo/GmMHfO4c3EM/s72-c/MakeItHappen-Art001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-1179483117905340171</id><published>2008-09-18T15:39:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T15:42:16.374+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Switching Preferences;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I got myself into an agonising pain when I chose to listen to Flying Solo while I was on the phone. No, the song isn't haunted or anything, just that the fcuker on the other line was laughing his ass off at me. Thank you very much, like that's what I really need. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There isn't really anything wrong listening and humming along to RnB, right? However, that fcuker thought it was weird if I was the one listening to it. I've had a sudden taste of music. Im beginning to listen to music and not songs that's classified as noise by society's eyes. Well, that's how the fcuker put it in words for me. Kinda weird the way he puts it. Oh cmon, I am a versatile listener afterall, plus music is universal right? So why the F did I got laughed at? No idea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would have been okay, if he kinda laugh for a moment, NO, he had to drag it on for hours. In the end, I had to shut my playlist up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, like how people always put it, &lt;em&gt;"DAH RELEK LAHR GENG!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pffts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-1179483117905340171?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/1179483117905340171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=1179483117905340171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1179483117905340171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1179483117905340171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/09/switching-preferences.html' title='Switching Preferences;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-3640056821405819219</id><published>2008-09-15T23:25:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T23:40:29.800+08:00</updated><title type='text'>flying solo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;@6:49pm, remember?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SM5-qJyqI1I/AAAAAAAAAJg/GxXZzX2pWo4/s1600-h/Image005ed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246269878581207890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SM5-qJyqI1I/AAAAAAAAAJg/GxXZzX2pWo4/s400/Image005ed.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My heart is sold.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Should've never ever let me this close.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And now you flyin' solo.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thought I was scared to fly without you here &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now you can't get under my skin &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Like you did before, why? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I was so reluctant to walk out on us &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So now I'm taking back my life &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Good-bye, yeah, yeah.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Flying Solo; Chris Brown&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how the heck my brushes got deleted from CS3. I was trying to find my signature brush but it wasn't there. Now, it took me aeons to do a brush, and now it's gone. Pffts. How sucky. I guess I have to start all over again. Bitch. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-3640056821405819219?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/3640056821405819219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=3640056821405819219' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3640056821405819219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3640056821405819219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/09/flying-solo.html' title='flying solo'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SM5-qJyqI1I/AAAAAAAAAJg/GxXZzX2pWo4/s72-c/Image005ed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-2422128700400159891</id><published>2008-09-15T00:09:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T00:11:47.731+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I need to fill up this space, so the previous post would not be visible. However, I don't really know what to type or express cause Im pretty much having a void mind. Inane, perhaps. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dah, I think this is enough.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bye&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-2422128700400159891?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/2422128700400159891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=2422128700400159891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2422128700400159891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2422128700400159891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-need-to-fill-up-this-space-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-7487861911494262579</id><published>2008-09-12T13:31:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T13:38:52.214+08:00</updated><title type='text'>play colours</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SMn_axeAyvI/AAAAAAAAAJY/_xVnCguf3pQ/s1600-h/mix.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245004076470553330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SMn_axeAyvI/AAAAAAAAAJY/_xVnCguf3pQ/s400/mix.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seasons are changing, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And waves are crashing, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;And stars are falling all for us.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Days grow longer and nights grow shorter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SMn_AeMfeQI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/pdllOqWMKak/s1600-h/colored.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SMn-21GAMrI/AAAAAAAAAJI/wq6KIDkYMK4/s1600-h/mix.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-7487861911494262579?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/7487861911494262579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=7487861911494262579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7487861911494262579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7487861911494262579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/09/play-colours.html' title='play colours'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SMn_axeAyvI/AAAAAAAAAJY/_xVnCguf3pQ/s72-c/mix.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-4350978410015148903</id><published>2008-09-12T01:31:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T13:30:53.211+08:00</updated><title type='text'>la la la</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's weird really how life works. It always caught me off-guard. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There's an air of surprise every now and then, and sometimes it isn't really nice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You know what is more weird? When friends(or supposingly there's no better term to define them) suddenly turn cold towards each other. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I always find it amusing whenever I've been told that I've been missed greatly. Mainly because there's always such a thing as technology. You could have text me every now and then, call me up or drop me a message in FS or my tagboard to tell me and ask about my health and everything. But no. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It doesn't work that way, huh? Weird. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And hey, even if I was the one who did the first move, would I get a reply? Hmm, I think the appropriate answer would be no. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now, I know everyone's suddenly texting and everything. But maybe this time round, Im the one who needs time to adjust. Hey, don't blame me. Where have you fcukers been when I needed you? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Im selfish, yes very much. When I tried to fix the puzzle, mend it altogether, you fcukers gave me a litany of excuses not to mend it. So there, I've said my piece. I don't wish to blow this issue up. So what's written here is personally my opinion. Use it against me for all I care, but hey my words doesn't cut me. Neither would yours. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And it wouldn't matter anyway, I've always known that when you fcukers run out of options, you'll turn to me. No worries, I've known those facts eversince, hmmm, maybe eversince we started hanging out and got close to each other. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But what's the point? The table will always get turn, and I'll always get the blame instead of Akon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So yeah, like a lad of mine always put it; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;See you when I see you fcukers.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-4350978410015148903?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/4350978410015148903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=4350978410015148903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4350978410015148903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4350978410015148903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/09/la-la-la.html' title='la la la'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-2364589141807699177</id><published>2008-09-07T22:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T22:37:31.926+08:00</updated><title type='text'>exams! exams! exams</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holidays are starting but Im not quite sure if Im looking forward to it.  As much as the holidays will mean doing my own stuffs and probably get back to the working society, it also means boredom in one way or another. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, tomorrow's the start of the exams. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I might be busy. (Or that's just what I love to think)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im in no mood. Pfffts. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-2364589141807699177?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/2364589141807699177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=2364589141807699177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2364589141807699177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2364589141807699177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/09/exams-exams-exams.html' title='exams! exams! exams'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-8654253471032632991</id><published>2008-09-04T01:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T01:43:09.211+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of convos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SL7MbROOtnI/AAAAAAAAAJA/GGlOo-6G8Q8/s1600-h/gayified.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241851785157457522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SL7MbROOtnI/AAAAAAAAAJA/GGlOo-6G8Q8/s400/gayified.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-8654253471032632991?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/8654253471032632991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=8654253471032632991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8654253471032632991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8654253471032632991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/09/of-convos.html' title='of convos'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SL7MbROOtnI/AAAAAAAAAJA/GGlOo-6G8Q8/s72-c/gayified.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-7179483039840375238</id><published>2008-09-01T12:28:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T12:58:12.768+08:00</updated><title type='text'>holy preachings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot believe that NLB is just jampacked with fellow humans even though we reached here quite early. Pffts. And I thought we were early. I think they must have waited outside the entrance even before it's opening time. Daym.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now we have to take a comfort at the study lounge floor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is the start of the holy month. There's a different air to it when I wake up for the pre-dawn meal. It felt weird somehow or rather. I wonder what magic it'll bring to me this year. Well, all I can say is maybe Im anticipating. Or maybe I cannot really be bothered anymore. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, something about that daily dosage of ungodly hours conversation made me ponder about everything. Im wondering if it is all true. Maybe it is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GM told me since this is the start of the holy month, I should make it a point to cross off one of my lifelist, that is to make up with all the humans that I fall out from. Now, just because it's the holy month, doesn't mean I have to act holy and angellic and actually make up (read: make UP and NOT make OUT) with all the humans. I think it's superficial somehow or rather. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, obviously the both of us had a different point of view on the takes of making up with humans during the holy month. And he's blaming it on my stubborn personality. I beg to differ. I think my stubborn personality is of no relevance. Or maybe, I fail to see it as he put it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, time well tell, I think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok it's getting cold in here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s; Happy fasting fellow devils. May the horns of you devils be blunt on this holy month, and may you refrain yourself from doing all this sinnings. Haha. Good day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-7179483039840375238?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/7179483039840375238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=7179483039840375238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7179483039840375238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7179483039840375238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/09/holy-preachings.html' title='holy preachings'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-4601179402563210680</id><published>2008-08-31T13:42:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T13:47:29.472+08:00</updated><title type='text'>a different breed of love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has come out with a 3 full day plan of sinning. Having us involve in sinful indulgence plus a little retail therapy in between. I think it would be therapeutic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And baybeats has been gay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s; truckloads of thanks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-4601179402563210680?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/4601179402563210680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=4601179402563210680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4601179402563210680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4601179402563210680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/08/different-breed-of-love.html' title='a different breed of love'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-3228105376622295333</id><published>2008-08-28T11:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T11:16:34.999+08:00</updated><title type='text'>LOVES</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XudLFGcb2UM&amp;amp;hl=" width="425" height="349" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" fs="1&amp;amp;color1=" color2="0xcd311b&amp;amp;border=" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-3228105376622295333?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/3228105376622295333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=3228105376622295333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3228105376622295333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3228105376622295333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/08/loves.html' title='LOVES'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-2203179610129305156</id><published>2008-08-27T23:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T00:05:05.295+08:00</updated><title type='text'>teenage angst</title><content type='html'>And yes, I hate jerks who claimed they are a woman's man and mature, yet they have no respect for a woman. If there's such thing as maturity in you, then probably you should realised that by now you should have a little respect for a woman. So maybe you lost your brain while growing up. So much for turning 24 this year. Well age is just a number, I supposed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two words; FCUK YOU.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-2203179610129305156?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/2203179610129305156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=2203179610129305156' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2203179610129305156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2203179610129305156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/08/teenage-angst.html' title='teenage angst'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-5591032061960111737</id><published>2008-08-26T21:53:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T21:58:11.473+08:00</updated><title type='text'>in an uncivilised manner</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bitches who gets in my way makes me sick. Spare the world the agony of meeting you, and do perish into thin air. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now two words bitches; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;FCUK YOU!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-5591032061960111737?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/5591032061960111737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=5591032061960111737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5591032061960111737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5591032061960111737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/08/in-uncivilised-manner.html' title='in an uncivilised manner'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-64302579034186946</id><published>2008-08-25T12:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T12:06:06.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MYV BABY</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SLIuxGEauiI/AAAAAAAAAI4/GV86TCJiSJM/s1600-h/miyavi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238300737562917410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SLIuxGEauiI/AAAAAAAAAI4/GV86TCJiSJM/s400/miyavi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; MIYAVI!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I know everyone's been avidly admiring Oliver Sykes, but I beg to differ! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I think MYV owns Oliver like anytime, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;though Oliver's inked body is awesome. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-64302579034186946?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/64302579034186946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=64302579034186946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/64302579034186946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/64302579034186946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/08/myv-baby.html' title='MYV BABY'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SLIuxGEauiI/AAAAAAAAAI4/GV86TCJiSJM/s72-c/miyavi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-2801906940069417869</id><published>2008-08-23T13:10:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T13:24:23.399+08:00</updated><title type='text'>loving friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;The leisure walk in the park while it was raining proves to be an awesome adventure. I don't mind getting drench from head to toe, cause I think it was a beautiful experience. I think I want to do it again, despite shivering in cold afterwards. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;I have to thank the Abang SP for the ride. And Abang 125 for the concern.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Oh well, Friday went really well. I love the way it ends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Now, I have to attend to my cold. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-2801906940069417869?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/2801906940069417869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=2801906940069417869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2801906940069417869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2801906940069417869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/08/loving-friday.html' title='loving friday'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-3954376425855280523</id><published>2008-08-21T23:18:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T23:29:56.774+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The littlest things;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SK2HfH_rDUI/AAAAAAAAAIw/sS2OXHqqABI/s1600-h/emo.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236990910493560130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SK2HfH_rDUI/AAAAAAAAAIw/sS2OXHqqABI/s400/emo.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sometimes, it's the slightest things that makes you smile. My friend used to say it's the littlest thing that counts, and I guess it's true. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onto  another note, I felt real bad after being told I destroyed a property. I did apologised though, however I guess my friend is still mad. And to get me to apologise is a real big thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally; Happy 17th, Is! Haha. Birthdays aren't fun without it's bash. So there, that's your birthday present.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night, World.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-3954376425855280523?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/3954376425855280523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=3954376425855280523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3954376425855280523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3954376425855280523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/08/littlest-things.html' title='The littlest things;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SK2HfH_rDUI/AAAAAAAAAIw/sS2OXHqqABI/s72-c/emo.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-2384067184864415841</id><published>2008-08-20T21:28:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T21:33:22.613+08:00</updated><title type='text'>guess who's back? Shady ain't back, but Axt is.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SKwcQc-UDbI/AAAAAAAAAIo/9h_nsHjPq9g/s1600-h/mmpic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236591535706082738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SKwcQc-UDbI/AAAAAAAAAIo/9h_nsHjPq9g/s400/mmpic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Maybe, Im back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I kept on thinking that tomorrow would be Friday till I asked Meimei if we had morning class, and she said that we only have afternoon class since it was only Thursday tomorrow!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Noob. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I guess I got lost in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-2384067184864415841?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/2384067184864415841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=2384067184864415841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2384067184864415841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/2384067184864415841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/08/guess-whos-back-shady-aint-back-but-axt.html' title='guess who&apos;s back? Shady ain&apos;t back, but Axt is.'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SKwcQc-UDbI/AAAAAAAAAIo/9h_nsHjPq9g/s72-c/mmpic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-1589747123018775987</id><published>2008-08-12T23:17:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T00:28:41.602+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the possibilities;</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I have a sudden urge to close this space down. Not that Im no longer interested in writing, but I think this space is too much to ask for. I can't really figure out what I exactly feel and mean, but it's just that way. I think I just need a break. Im losing out of steam, so life is pretty much mundane. I don't know. This midlife crisis alias my-going-through-18 isn't really that awesome lately. Everything must have an ending so maybe, just maybe this is my ending in this personal cyberspace abode. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone's going on a hiatus, probably it's time I do too. Memories no longer serve a purpose in my life. So Im not bothering about the pieces that I left behind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe Im no longer doing this, or maybe Im going elsewhere to pen my thoughts down. And maybe Im saying all of this out of pique moment. Maybe it isn't true, then you'll see me writing again the very next day or the moment after this. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe this is true, and Im taking refuge someplace else and will only run back here when I think everything is going on okay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for now, I need a break from everything. I think it is too much for my teenage self to handle. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hell, I know I've given you away for someone else to take. Social nicety has become my thing, and it isn't exactly my &lt;s&gt;bottle of liquor&lt;/s&gt; cup of tea. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you when I see you fellow humans. &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-1589747123018775987?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/1589747123018775987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=1589747123018775987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1589747123018775987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1589747123018775987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/08/possibilities.html' title='the possibilities;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-9120896528746940586</id><published>2008-08-10T22:51:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T02:36:34.628+08:00</updated><title type='text'>in raging madness</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;For the first ever fcuking time in my entire life, Gayman pangseh me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woots. I think it's a day to be remembered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally he say, "Im not meeting you up. Sorry"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha. Instead of turning mad, I said, "you broke your pangseh virginity"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have our moments, I supposed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a totally different note; if humans have the decency, then probably they'll apologise. I wanted to rage in madness but I don't think I want to waste my energy on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hey, CONGRATULATIONS to all my fcuking girlfriends! You guys have finally turned into butoheads. Keep on rocking and paitau'ing for the fcuking sake of your stupid butos who you've only met for a few months. Just practice safe sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You GFs managed to suck the soul out of me. Thank you. And don't apologise cause they're just worthless words. Save it for your buto that's going to give you support for the rest of your life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-9120896528746940586?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/9120896528746940586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=9120896528746940586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/9120896528746940586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/9120896528746940586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/08/in-raging-madness.html' title='in raging madness'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-1891327655098311817</id><published>2008-08-06T00:30:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T22:34:12.631+08:00</updated><title type='text'>in NCC memoirs</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SJiDWMem1EI/AAAAAAAAAIY/1fZTCqePf8Q/s1600-h/Aps2o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231075384520791106" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SJiDWMem1EI/AAAAAAAAAIY/1fZTCqePf8Q/s400/Aps2o.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;3 missing here! -I think.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SJiDWUAIkwI/AAAAAAAAAIg/2EAqmL5gye0/s1600-h/ry=320.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231075386540462850" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SJiDWUAIkwI/AAAAAAAAAIg/2EAqmL5gye0/s400/ry%253D320.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;JYNCC Girls.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just in case you're wondering why the heck are these two pictures there, it's probably because Im having those moments where I take my time to reminisce the good old days. In this case my days as a NCC Cadet in my high school era. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was listening to Knock It Down, then my mind just drifted to the good times. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To think about it,my life revolves around NCC much of the time during my high school years. Weird, but true. Seemingly, that's why Fridays and Saturdays have always been the best days of my high school years. Cause it's the day that I always look forward to since NCC falls on that day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I must admit, I think my cohort bonded well enough that we even hang out after NCC hours as well as normal curriculum time. I truly think my cohort is the best NCC cohort ever in JY history!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from the normal politcal shits, I think we truly are the most greatest and awesome batch ever. And especially since we're the #2 breed, that makes us more special. Cause we're not the guinea pigs like the first batch, and neither are we the noobies like the 3rd, 4th and following it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok I know NCC is all about the whole cohort thing, but hey my batch are the ones that colours my NCC life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, I wanted to post the first picture that was taken with my batch which was way back in 2003 I think? When our ranks were only private. But I couldn't find it anywhere in the folders. So if you happened to read, and you do hold on to it, please send it to me. In case you're wondering, the first picture was taken at the parade square when all 18 of us were present. Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This entry is dedicated to the second batch of JYNCC girls; the ones that celebrated POP in the year 2006, and the ones that have stick together with me for the whole of my NCC life in high school. The ones that got tortured by the PasirRis'ians. Stupid Badriah and those shitty minahs seargents. Haha.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Here's a toast to the most awesome batch ever in JYNCC History. (I self declare, but so? I truly think we're the best batch ever! And I know there's no champagne, but please pretend that there is.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Bas, Nurril, Cha, Il, El, Tulang, Huda, Fadz, Syaza, Asilah, Farhana, Bariah. (and including yours truly) - The Survivors.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thank you very much for all the wonderful bittersweet memories. Haha. I sound as if Im going to die tomorrow. But really, thank you fellow comrades. The gossip session, the torturing moments and the defining ones as well. Not to mention the hanging out part and sharing the joyous moments. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And not forgetting the ones that fall out from NCC after the first few trainings or probably just M.I.A;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Fadilah, Mira, Yanti and the two chinese girls. (Apparently I forgot their names.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I ought to thank this people too, for making the times they spent with me during NCC a wonderful one as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Now please throw confettis! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can go on actually, but I have to get back on my assignment which is due on Thursday. And was actually given 2 months to complete it. But all thanks to the power of procrastination, now Im rushing everything! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to think I even waste about 30 minutes on this entry. Can't help it, I had the sudden urge to blog about this, cause I think I truly miss those times. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And genuinely, I do miss it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-1891327655098311817?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/1891327655098311817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=1891327655098311817' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1891327655098311817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1891327655098311817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/08/blog-post.html' title='in NCC memoirs'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SJiDWMem1EI/AAAAAAAAAIY/1fZTCqePf8Q/s72-c/Aps2o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-8706107609528966661</id><published>2008-08-04T00:02:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T00:50:51.301+08:00</updated><title type='text'>in thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;It feels like ages, but it has only been 3 days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weekends suck the energy out of mine yet it must have been one of the best. Exhausting yet the pandemonium is worthy of everything. I managed to get my thoughts out like a word vomit and then I burnt it all away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watch as the paper furled with flames, and then I smile like a mad lunatic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was funny, cause I've never managed to get my train of thoughts out. And when I say the train of thoughts has escaped, I meant every word. I didn't literally wrote on the surface in poetical manner like how I always do. I wrote the events that took place and injected different feelings into the words that I wrote. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weird ain't it? I finally wrote something more factual rather than the usual poetical way that has rather deeper meaning to every sentence. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet I burnt the paper away in order to remove the traces of it's existence. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;However something in me, doesn't feel right. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a tiny part, a tiny bit in me that wanted to do something more other than writing my thoughts out onto a piece of paper and then burnt it away. I wanted to do something more that could make me feel better in every way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never got around to doing it cause I don't know what it would be and I don't even know how to begin. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morning fellow humans. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/S It got me thinking. What happened to the pact that we made? Was it a comforting lie that delude our eyes from the harsh reality that was inevitable? Was it even inevitable? Or we didn't try hard enough to avoid it? Or was it broken due to our own egoistical needs? Or we finally had enough of everything?&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-8706107609528966661?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/8706107609528966661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=8706107609528966661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8706107609528966661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8706107609528966661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/08/in-thoughts.html' title='in thoughts'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-4353370439846423077</id><published>2008-08-01T01:17:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T02:10:35.386+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of annoying relationship questions</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I do not need a man for whatever reasons that you humans give me. So stop bugging me to have one. Having a man by my side won't solve the problem, cause getting a man isn't the solution. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Does that explains?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I am sick of hearing that I should get a man to tame me down, to cool my consistent teenage angst. And that I would probably change for the better. Such bullshits still exists? For the record, I do not buy those loads of craps. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And please stop asking me if Im in a relationship, cause heck it is getting to a point of annoyance. I am not in a relationship and I don't intend to be in one. And again for the record, Gayman is not my man cause he's a fcuking gay noob. I am joking, he's not a gay, but that doesn't mean we're together. He's just an idiot who happened to be an awesome asshole that entertains me, and vice versa. That's it, nothing more. So you can stop asking now and feed your thoughts with all the wild assumptions. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And please I beg, do stop assuming and feeding thoughts into my mind, and feelings into my heart. I am not a pull bear, where you stuffed the cotton and all those cute little sounds in. I am not one of those. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I am a human with my own mind and my own feelings. I do not need another human to tell me what Im supposed to think and feel. Now that's just wrong, isn't it? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So stop guessing who Im always writing about, and guessing who I like. It is none of your bloody business. And hey stop assuming I like your guy. Even if I do like your guy, I do not think it is a sin or a crime. Cause heck, Im not a relationship wrecker. As you might know, looking isn't a crime, but touching is. Plus, I do not see a glitch if I were to like your guy cause admiring a fine piece of art from Up Above isn't wrong. It is wrong when I spill my feelings for him and try to snatch him away from you. That isn't my thing cause Im not a low-life bitch. I don't stoop that low just for some love shits.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Furthermore, I am happy standing on my own two feet. I am happy to be able to be free from all those relationship chords that are bound to tie me down. Affairs of the heart isn't my thing. It is a passing phase in my life to entertain my forever mundane routine. Did I make that clear? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I am yes indeed 18, but it isn't an age to think of marriage. So getting a man is just redundant for now. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I am not living in denial if that's what you pests are thinking. I am telling the perfect truth. I am not hollow happy or whatever craps. I am perfectly fine living the life I lead. Like I said, a man isn't my solution.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Plus, I don't need a man for all the wrong reasons. And that eternity thing with future plans for marriage and kids, isn't my kinda thing. I am not interested with all this craps. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not want to be tied down like how all my other friends are, then my world will only revolves around that one guy whom would not even be my soulmate or whatever term you call it. That's not how I rock my world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moreover, Im just not interested. And there's no asshole that fit the bill. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My past relationships is my past. It is in the past tense, so don't bother to rake it up and use it against me cause I'll just turn a deaf ear on that. Ex'es are meant to be part of history, so respect that. And hey, what was my age again when I was in a relationship? I was in the noobie stage of life. There, happy?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer love is enchanting, but when summer is over, the magic touch is lost. Get me? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings me to another point, stop asking if I have feelings for the ex'es. That is way out of point. If you're here to annoy me then please annoy me by other means. Maybe you could sing all those dumb jiwang songs into my ear every minute or something like that. But not questions like those kind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok humans?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So quit asking dumb, annoying questions whenever you meet me or strike a conversation. It isn't a great way to break the ice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were to be in a relationship, I'll let the whole world know just so your curiousity could be answered. See, I am nice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for now, let me own my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-4353370439846423077?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/4353370439846423077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=4353370439846423077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4353370439846423077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4353370439846423077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/08/of-annoyance-relationship-questions.html' title='of annoying relationship questions'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-3140581821472380998</id><published>2008-07-29T22:36:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T23:15:13.824+08:00</updated><title type='text'>in photography &amp; sky</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 356px; HEIGHT: 250px" height="518" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/cseries1.jpg" width="514" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 344px" height="666" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/cseries2.jpg" width="510" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 302px; HEIGHT: 377px" height="696" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/cseries3.jpg" width="435" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 377px; HEIGHT: 283px" height="474" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/cseries4.jpg" width="301" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 298px; HEIGHT: 379px" height="668" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/cseries6.jpg" width="415" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 334px" height="653" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/cseries7.jpg" width="398" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 363px; HEIGHT: 245px" height="466" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v256/lil-kid31/cseries5.jpg" width="374" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's always something magical about clouds and sky. I don't know what it is, but it suddenly grew into a subject of interest and fascination.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took this over the past how many weeks at different places. And there, for now this is my sky collection. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, call this the noobie try outs in editting and photo taking. And pardon the resizing, I suck at it anyway. I think I need to save up for a slr. Tsk. That'll take aeons I supposed. A Samsung G400 would do good too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall try morning sky sometime. I've never gotten round doing it, cause I never managed to catch it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onto another note; I want to catch the total solar eclipse this coming Aug 1st. But that's impossible. I guess internet will have to be the only option. And there's another partial eclipse this Aug 16th. I think watching solar eclipse live shall be one of my life's goal. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s; May we meet again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-3140581821472380998?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/3140581821472380998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=3140581821472380998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3140581821472380998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3140581821472380998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/in-photography-sky.html' title='in photography &amp; sky'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-5323118015740952007</id><published>2008-07-27T01:29:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T02:24:30.855+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of fate and chance</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I was engrossed in perfume-picking when my eyes instantly fell upon a hand that was reaching for the Davidoff perfume. I examined the hand, and realised that the wrist was inked. Curiousity got to the better of me as I was itching to look at the body art. To my dismay, I couldn't figure out what it was, as only a quarter of it was visible. The rest of it was hidden under a red long sleeved checkered shirt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I stood there and admire the only visible body art on the wrist, but I was greeted by a look of disbelief from the owner. It took me about a few seconds to realise that I was being watched. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I slowly turned my gaze away from that body art, and diverted that attention to the face that was looking at me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There and then, I could almost hear my pride crashing to the ground. Every part of my body could feel that stinging sensation, and engulfed in embarassment. I could even feel it in my vein. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The face was the most magnificent thing I've seen in this few months. The wrist that I was fervently admiring belongs to a drop dead gorgeous guy, and he's truly a mars hawt stuff. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked at me, and for a second, it felt like my whole body has been electrified by his gaze. His fierce look and stare got me trance even more. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a guy, he had the most awesome skin colour and gawd, his face was flawless in every way. I could feel the numbness in every part of my body. His ears were pierced, and his hair was in the rusty colour with a tinge of sandy beach highlights. He topped it off with a black trucker cap with gold linings. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking at how foolish I was, he actually carved a smile out of his face. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There and then, my heart stopped beating, my world stopped spinning, and my mind stopped thinking. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His smile was the most beautiful thing of all. He was a fine piece of art from Up Above. He really is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like a domino effect, I returned his smile despite feeling embarrased. I quickly darted my attention away from him and force myself to stare at the rows of perfumes in front of me. I managed to steal glances while he was busy choosing perfumes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could hear him talked to his friend and asking for opinions, I really wanted to chip in, but knowing how foolish I've been, I went on a mute mode.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His friend looked at me and actually smiled to himself. He must have noticed how idiotic I looked. And he tried real hard to suppress his laughters, but it was to no avail. He let off a few laughs and turned his head away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that guy in inked was sweet, he noogie his friend and gave him the "Shut up, asshole" look. I saw it with my own eyes, and a sudden warmth lit up in me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beast in me made a jump of triumphant and joy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't only that. After choosing the right scent for himself, he brushed past me, and said in a low voice, "take care". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world really did stop spinning even if it was for a moment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His voice was melodious. Though it was only two words, it was as if he was singing a melodious song to me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't stop thinking about it, even after many hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder who's the lucky woman that gets him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Fate for allowing me a chance to meet someone who is really gorgeous on my Saturday. It made my weekend a happy one. Maybe this was my gift after weeks of bad luck. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It felt so surreal, yet it wasn't a dream or a figment of my imagination. And that's the best part of all, cause it was real and it happened!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Fate, and many thanks to the guy that was inked for making my Saturday night a great one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-5323118015740952007?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/5323118015740952007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=5323118015740952007' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5323118015740952007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/5323118015740952007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-fate-and-chance.html' title='of fate and chance'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-6102069003583349806</id><published>2008-07-26T01:11:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T01:19:07.301+08:00</updated><title type='text'>night thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If curses were gunshots, I would have been dead over and over again. Im probably a proud living zombie by now. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, there's another tune to it. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Count to three they say, breathe in deep and let it all out slowly. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it was that easy, I wouldn't mind trying over and over again.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll bet my life on it, that things would constantly be this way till a tragedy strikes. Even if it did change, it would never be the same again.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im not a fan of intricate details, so I'll skip that part.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to bide again you say? Yes, I supposed that's the best. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morning, humans. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-6102069003583349806?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/6102069003583349806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=6102069003583349806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6102069003583349806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6102069003583349806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/night-thoughts.html' title='night thoughts'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-793315106891293746</id><published>2008-07-24T21:41:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T22:34:12.806+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of brotherly jokes;</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SIiH__zpfoI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/0WpCcWH2jE4/s1600-h/noobie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226576901093031554" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SIiH__zpfoI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/0WpCcWH2jE4/s400/noobie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made this a few hours ago, set it as desktop background and everything else that's obvious. I waited for this brother to past by the pc so that he'll gain a glimpse of this picture. He told me not to put it up at my blog. But who cares?! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a little entertainment after a crappy news. So there, I made one out of this kedongdong brother. Haha. Even the fonts have hearts! Awww, how cute can he gets? He even signed off with a little love symbol. He's not a brat afterall. Haha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take that for always being annoying! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I think I have to rummage through the folders in the pc for the older idiotic brother's pictures. I think I'll love that better. Hehe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-793315106891293746?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/793315106891293746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=793315106891293746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/793315106891293746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/793315106891293746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-brotherly-jokes.html' title='of brotherly jokes;'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SIiH__zpfoI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/0WpCcWH2jE4/s72-c/noobie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-294513889382280897</id><published>2008-07-24T11:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T11:49:31.772+08:00</updated><title type='text'>in insignificant matters</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a sudden weight on my head, and it's wearing me thin. I feel like banging my head on the wall till it bleed just so I could get this weighing sensation off my head. This is the 2nd time in a week. And this pounding feeling isn't that great. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Class only starts at 2. How great. Something must be wrong with the body mechanism, that it woke me up early in the morning, when I should still be sleeping in cause well there's no morning classes! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I predict a bad day ahead, which isn't surprising since I've been having it for the past 2 weeks!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onto another note; it took me about 45 minutes to realise that I've actually logged on to blogger, and have already click the "New post" button. Noob. I was busy stoning away in front of the screen and meddling with some programming that I forgot about blogger. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike me, but oh well, that'll do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have pending assignments and overdued bill which I've yet to pay. Now, this reminds me that I still have a long list of things to get. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall overdose myself with paracetamol now. I don't want this pounding sensation to weigh me down. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-294513889382280897?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/294513889382280897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=294513889382280897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/294513889382280897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/294513889382280897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/in-insignificant-matters.html' title='in insignificant matters'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-7290130811094853594</id><published>2008-07-24T00:16:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T00:50:02.434+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of annoying brothers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really have to say this. There's a sudden urge to tell everyone in the cyber world that my brother is an idiot. There, now my chest is lifted from a heavy burden.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now, I don't usually complain about his antics, but tonight must have been the last straw.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He is currently laying down on my bed, occupying a huge space and making stupid, weird noises while playing DJ Max on his psp. Now, you may asked, what the heck is wrong with that. It is wrong from any point of view. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He's killing that tranquility atmosphere and it's the one and only time I have. Night time is the only time where tranquility is given to me which means I have time to entertain my train of thoughts and pen them down. It is the only time that I do not have a writer's block or whatever you called it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If he's in my room while making stupid noises, it means he's disrupting my brain. My brainwave gets confused with the noise that he makes. I wouldn't mind, if he shuts his trap while playing, but no, he choose to make incessant noises while playing a noob game. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And what's his age again? His turning 23 this year! Boys will be boys. This isn't the 'young at heart' kinda thing. This is called dysfunctional brain that results in kiddish antics. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;His part-time job is to annoy the heck out of me. His full-time job is to piss me off. Oh bother. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Today, out of all the days, he chose to play his psp in my room and on my bed, and making weird noises! I do not understand. Why can't he just mug for his papers? Shouldn't someone taking a degree be busy? I think he have too much time on hand. I think there's something wrong with his course and work, they give him too much time. Thus, he's out there annoying me with his antics. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It's 12:43am now. And he's been on my bed since like forever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Oh great now he's laughing to himself! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;How can girls go crazy over him? I think they're mad. Real mad. I deffinitely won't fall for an idiot like him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And he's sticking his face on the screen. What a geek.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Heck, now I have to wrestle him for my bed at most. Wish me luck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Brothers are annoying!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-7290130811094853594?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/7290130811094853594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=7290130811094853594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7290130811094853594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/7290130811094853594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-annoying-brothers.html' title='of annoying brothers'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-1485080009628730634</id><published>2008-07-23T12:18:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T12:33:00.166+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of survey and boredom</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Only. Type. One. Word.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1. Where is your cell phone??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;table&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend/crush?? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;noob&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. Your hair?? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;messy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. Your mother?? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;matriarch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5. Your father??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;patriarch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6. Your favorite thing?? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;journal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7. Your dream last night??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; strange&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8. Your favorite drink??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; kratingdaeng&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9. Your dream car??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; mustang&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10. Say something about life??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;bitch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;11. Your ex??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;frengers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;12. Your fear?? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;downfall&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;13.What do you want to be in 10 years??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; bummer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;14. Who did you hang out with last night?? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;solitary&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;15. What you're not good at?? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;truth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;16. Muffins?? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;blueberry&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;17. When you DIE, u'd rather be CREMATED or BURIED??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;buried&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;18 . Where you grew up??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; eastside&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;19. Last place you've been to??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; kitchen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;20. What are you wearing??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;boxers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;21 . Where are you??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; room&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;22. Your pet/s??&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;gone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;23. Your computer??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; black&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;24. Your life.?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;jerk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;25. Your mood?? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;annoyed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;26. Missing??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;past&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;27.what/Who are you thinking about right now?? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;school&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;28. Your car??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; soon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;29. Your work??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;quitted&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;30. Your summer??&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;over&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;31.Your favorite color?? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;black&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;32. When was the last time you laughed??&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;hours&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;33. Last time you cried??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;aeons&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;34. School??&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;mundane&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-1485080009628730634?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/1485080009628730634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=1485080009628730634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1485080009628730634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/1485080009628730634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-survey-and-boredom.html' title='of survey and boredom'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-4157565903653420338</id><published>2008-07-22T22:51:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T23:08:48.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Arti Sahabat</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zXmNIYqiUDs&amp;amp;hl=" width="425" height="349" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" color2="0x54abd6&amp;amp;border=" fs="1&amp;amp;color1="&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im not a fan of Nidji, but this song, it's beginning to ring in my ears like how Speeding Cars got me trance. But this is different from Speeding Cars. Speeding Cars makes no sense yet there's a magical touch to it that makes you feel lifted. On a contrary, Arti Sahabat makes sense, it makes perfect sense, the lyrics touches the soul and brings back memories of the past, and then it sets you thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking of the great times that I've once had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. Maybe they are my past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onto another note; this pounding sensation in my head is beginning to piss me off real bad. I feel like taking those daym paracetamol, but I supposed my body system is immune to it. Heck, I feel like a toad now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need something to kill off this pounding sensation. It's weighing my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I better go now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-4157565903653420338?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/4157565903653420338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=4157565903653420338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4157565903653420338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4157565903653420338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/blog-post.html' title='Arti Sahabat'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-3702719213718058114</id><published>2008-07-21T23:16:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T23:40:15.449+08:00</updated><title type='text'>in ex's and gf's</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I still couldn't get over the awful fact, and it's been like 4 days? I tried diverting my attention but I just couldn't do it, which is weird. It doesn't help that no one wants to waste 5 minutes of their time listening to me complain. The irony of life I supposed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I amuse myself almost all the time. I don't open up, but when I do, I expect a little attention. And it sucks when there's no one that you can go all out to. I sound pathetic and emo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the best answer that I could get was this, "His your past." Noob. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I know that. It's as obvious as girls have boobs and guys have moobs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not the past that Im worried about. It's when the present collides with the past that I care about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To heck with this, and I don't even know why I bother explaining. Oh because there's a wishful thinking on my part that we could get altogether like old times when buto wasn't in picture. Wait, scratch that line. It's suppose to be when buto wasn't exactly a main priority. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fat hope, even if the cow finally managed to jump over the moon, the wish won't even happen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No worries, I'll still wait for that day to come even if it means aging by 30 years, which by then Im probably already married having 4 kids and attending parent-teacher-session. Or probably not. (Now I wonder where I'll be when I aged by 30 years, it means Im 48 by then. Haha)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, a little teenage angst on Monday doesn't hurt, does it? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s I thank you for the night, for the &lt;s&gt;second&lt;/s&gt; umpteenth undeserving chance and for the lovely brownie with cheese. You rock my boxers, again.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-3702719213718058114?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/3702719213718058114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=3702719213718058114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3702719213718058114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3702719213718058114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/in-exs-and-gfs.html' title='in ex&apos;s and gf&apos;s'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-4781982699739116696</id><published>2008-07-21T19:06:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T19:18:11.157+08:00</updated><title type='text'>blog sweet blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Im finally home fellow asswipes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'll be going out again in about 15 minutes time. And will only be back about 11? Hopefully before 10 so I'll get to catch Miller on tv.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in case you're wondering, where the hell have I been for the past 3 nights, then probably, I'll keep it as a secret. If you've already know, then keep it to yourself. It's just a short getaway anyway. It was worthwhile I supposed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hell no, I wasn't being emo. Or trying to play dead or having that m.i.a label on me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, time's up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to go now, before Im late. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, it's not like Im not used to being late, but there's a sudden change of rule. Idiots who are late will abide the bidding of the other. And of course giving the other a treat. So I really have to be early or I'll go bankrupt! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-4781982699739116696?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/4781982699739116696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=4781982699739116696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4781982699739116696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/4781982699739116696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/blog-sweet-blog.html' title='blog sweet blog'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-8982377923437079719</id><published>2008-07-18T15:20:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T22:34:13.180+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of announcement</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SIBEWJQ2AAI/AAAAAAAAAH4/oC1EPZoPAEM/s1600-h/beautiful_baggage_by_lorrainemd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224250714984153090" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SIBEWJQ2AAI/AAAAAAAAAH4/oC1EPZoPAEM/s400/beautiful_baggage_by_lorrainemd.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I'll most probably be going away till Sunday night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think having an impromptu overnight getaway would not be a bad idea after all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and if you can't get through me on my phone, then probably the battery died out or &lt;br /&gt;shits like that. So don't bother pressing my home number cause I won't be home of course.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there's really anything important that I have to attend to, then feel free to drop a tag and will get back to you asap. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok that's all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll have to get my bag packed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you around. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-8982377923437079719?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/8982377923437079719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=8982377923437079719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8982377923437079719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/8982377923437079719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-announcement_18.html' title='of announcement'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SIBEWJQ2AAI/AAAAAAAAAH4/oC1EPZoPAEM/s72-c/beautiful_baggage_by_lorrainemd.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-3986234748093488295</id><published>2008-07-17T01:17:00.010+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T02:10:58.438+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of fate and dissapointment</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Wednesday is no better than Monday's blues or Tuesday post-blues. It's a loser day with a capital L. If that's not bad enough, fate plays me out today with his many little devillish tricks. Let's just say, if I was really weak little emo dude, I could have commited suicide or slash my arm with a penknife with a thousand red lines. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I typed this post about 3 to 4 times, each time with a different story, but it was too lengthy. So here's my short rant, I hope. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;My Wednesday morning started out bad. With rushes and madpacked buses and trying to beat time at it's game, and having my finger cut skin deep, and a dissapointing grade, and then going through madpacked buses again, and only managed to board one after the 6th bus have past due to the passengers that was already almost-squashed into the glass door and packed together like tinpacked sardines. Fate was playing me out, deffinitely.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And then I was almost panting when I reached home because I was practically rushing for time to head out for talks over coffee. I didn't even manage to grab a bite, and thought the talks over coffee could have turned out into a dinner date or something.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I randomly pick a bus and board it and then alighted from it and walked aimlessly around just so I could kill time. But to my fcking dismay, things didn't turned out fine, so I continued walking around aimlessly once again. And ended up buying a carton of HL milk, a can of Kratingdaeng and a bar of Soyjoy. I continued walking and stumbled upon a nice spot to sit. I placed my bum at the cold hard concrete floor, and started drinking milk from the carton. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I searched my pocket for that fags, and felt the orgasmic feeling cooling down my angst. It wasn't all, I looked up at the blue night sky decorated with white puffy clouds that was illuminated against the moonlight. It was stunning. Getting to enjoy that view with fags and milk was just awesome. I sketch the image on my mind and watch as the clouds drift away and then cover the full moon for a few seconds, before the full moon appear again. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Magnificent. I thought, "There, fate's finally giving up, and you're finally getting tranquility after a bad day."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;It was the comforting feeling the sky, clouds, fags and milk gave that I stayed there for a pretty long time though it was a solitary journey. I cancelled the plan to head to the park for a solitary moment, cause even there, at the spot I was sitted, a sense of tranquility was achieved.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I walked back home slowly though it wasn't exactly a near journey. I took my time enjoying the night breeze and it felt really good, I swear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But fate has always been cheeky. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reached upon my apartment and was about to head for the lift but it was out of use. The only other existing alternative was to climb the stairs, unless I found a way to fly up or to get someone to throw me a rope ladder from my house. Well of course, stairs was the only option. Haha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, fate beat me at it's own game. Drats. I'll win someday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s I know I've stood up on you again. And "Im sorry" is never going to make up for it, right? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drats. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-3986234748093488295?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/3986234748093488295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=3986234748093488295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3986234748093488295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3986234748093488295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-fate-and-dissapointment.html' title='of fate and dissapointment'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-6133244089286155955</id><published>2008-07-16T13:43:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T14:41:42.266+08:00</updated><title type='text'>skiving lesson</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Breathe in, breathe out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The boredom of lessons is beginning to seep slowly into my soul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Drags.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The pandemonium in this classroom doesn't seem to kill this constant boredom that lives in me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My left side is filled with boys engrossed in their virtual soccer game, pretending that they're the world's renowned football player.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My right side however, is utterly quiet, since the girls are working on their assginments, busily thrashing out words on the keyboard. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My back view is filled with kids doing some trivial stuffs and of course busy peeping into my screen, just so they could get a glimpse of the words that formed on my screen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fat hope.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Blasting loud music into my ears, seems to reach a sense of tranquility.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And it's freezing here in this room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Daym.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-6133244089286155955?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/6133244089286155955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=6133244089286155955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6133244089286155955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6133244089286155955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/skiving-lesson.html' title='skiving lesson'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-6028471006005434689</id><published>2008-07-15T22:38:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T22:34:13.379+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of movies</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SHy2zb-exPI/AAAAAAAAAHw/VgHkP6F4ASs/s1600-h/patchadams.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223250662642337010" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SHy2zb-exPI/AAAAAAAAAHw/VgHkP6F4ASs/s400/patchadams.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I think this movie is brilliant. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And this guy called Patch Adams is just awesome! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I love how they put things together. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Later, humans.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-6028471006005434689?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/6028471006005434689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=6028471006005434689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6028471006005434689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/6028471006005434689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-movies.html' title='Of movies'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SHy2zb-exPI/AAAAAAAAAHw/VgHkP6F4ASs/s72-c/patchadams.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-3385148373994288295</id><published>2008-07-14T22:11:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T22:48:44.735+08:00</updated><title type='text'>in you &amp; i.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;If you were hoping, I'll take your hands once again, then probably you're wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;If you were hoping that, the usual words of, "let's do this together and pick up the pieces slowly", then probably you're wrong. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;If you were hoping that, I'll look you in the eye and search for answers, then you're wrong.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If you were hoping that, I'll text you at 4 in the morning, then probably you're wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were hoping that, I'll call you up randomly in the ungodly hours and then I demand you to call me back just so to entertain my crappy thoughts, then you're wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were hoping that, I'll asked you out on rendezvous at the usual rooftop and lay under the sky, then you're wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were hoping that, we're going to be like how we used to, then you're wrong again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you say that Im that egoistical bitch like the very first, then this time you're right.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough is enough, I supposed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When all else fails, we wait for time to bide, isn't that our pact? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole ordeal is getting to a point of annoyance. No kidding, man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time-out, love. Whatever that means.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We both will do good from it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-3385148373994288295?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/3385148373994288295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=3385148373994288295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3385148373994288295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/3385148373994288295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/in-you-i.html' title='in you &amp; i.'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2876385465993427003.post-918178873499782705</id><published>2008-07-13T23:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T22:34:13.598+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of desires</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SHohCOgwUrI/AAAAAAAAAHo/48sXdDjeAtY/s1600-h/G400.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222523040028447410" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SHohCOgwUrI/AAAAAAAAAHo/48sXdDjeAtY/s400/G400.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Samsung G400! The perfect cut for me if you asked. I've been searching for sleek flip phones with external memory and a good built-in camera plus the design should not be bulky.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And alas, this was what I found. Thanks to the Cina. Samsung G400, with external touchscreen function, with a microSD slot and a 5mp built-in camera. Not to mention it's dimensions are only 102.8 x 51.5 x 15.2 mm and weighs about 107.8 g.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Tell me, this is a must phone for me! I mean I don't really change my phone often unless I have to renew my contract. But this is it! The perfect phone for me! I would really love it if any darling humans get me this for a Christmas present maybe? Or for the day I turned legal? Or just a gift for some random occasion. I would greatly appreciate it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;There's just one word that can summarise this phone; Awesome!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Probably I should start saving for this. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2876385465993427003-918178873499782705?l=tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/feeds/918178873499782705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2876385465993427003&amp;postID=918178873499782705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/918178873499782705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2876385465993427003/posts/default/918178873499782705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tkmo-macamfaham.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-desires.html' title='of desires'/><author><name>Ast</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08894391315123511919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_sXHXkKDcxmQ/SHohCOgwUrI/AAAAAAAAAHo/48sXdDjeAtY/s72-c/G400.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
