<?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-2164106666720577692</id><updated>2011-07-28T14:47:05.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomness that reach new heights...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-5680199958818683798</id><published>2009-07-13T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T23:42:51.787-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled.</title><content type='html'>It's not every day you wake up feeling as though you are living on borrowed time. I found myself lying in bed wondering how I could still fidget around with all my limbs still in tact as I felt the cold winter air envelope my body. How did I survive? Did I take my eyes off the road? Was I drowning too deep in all those thoughts of everything but nothing at all? All those questions were all left unanswered. It was like staring at an exam paper not knowing a single answer to any of the questions. How did I end up inside an overturned car when a second ago I was driving at 110 km/h? Was the paramedic trying to tell me that I was supposed to be in a black body bag instead of walking away with just a few scratches on my leg? I even remembered him telling me that it was miraculous and that I should be up early the day after to get a lottery ticket. That was not how I wanted to die. Whatever happened, happened too fast and I'm convinced that any memory of what caused the accident died on that highway. All of what happened yesterday is still in the process of sinking into this thick skull of mine. Just this morning I was at the tow truck company's garage looking at what might have been the 'weapon' that should have absorbed the life out of me. It happened at night and I could not see what was left of the car. Would I still be here if it was a metal divider instead of shrubs and a fence? Did I try to avoid something? Why are all these questions being answered with more questions? I want answers! Who am I kidding. I was alone and the only person that should know what happened is me, myself and I. If you ask me, I would have liked a few days in between to calm my nerves before being shown what was left of the car and the crash site. But I just kept quiet as I was being driven there. Did they want to remind me how lucky I was or want me to learn from my mistakes the hard way? Just a kilometre after the crash site was a memorial put in place for someone that probably suffered the same fate as I did but wasn't as lucky. I was feeling really morbid and wondered if I would have had one if I did not live to tell the tale. Maybe life is not what people portray it to be. Life does not have its ups and downs. It only goes one way, up to heaven or down to hell. Maybe it's just me. Sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-5680199958818683798?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5680199958818683798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=5680199958818683798' title='40 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/5680199958818683798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/5680199958818683798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2009/07/untitled.html' title='Untitled.'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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>40</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-4225651663482442072</id><published>2009-04-01T06:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T06:39:39.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I’ve delayed this post long enough to know that my blog is now regarded to as either dead or retarded. Well anyway, I hope everyone’s had their fair share of good memories this holiday because mine’s ending this Sunday, and this probably applies to a large chunk of them studying in Australian universities. ( Note: I typed this about a month ago but I just didn't want to post it at that time )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SdNuQ10c43I/AAAAAAAAAZc/3XoB-T6JWUM/s1600-h/Untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 236px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SdNuQ10c43I/AAAAAAAAAZc/3XoB-T6JWUM/s320/Untitled.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319716820458726258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I was asked by a friend of mine to choose between the two things that most if not everyone dreams to find before they kick the bucket. Lots and lots of money or finding your true love? If I were to ask you that question and you had to give me an answer right away, what would you say?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SdNtDOC8kRI/AAAAAAAAAZM/sBXzq4cuvZs/s1600-h/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SdNtDOC8kRI/AAAAAAAAAZM/sBXzq4cuvZs/s320/4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319715486932177170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are probably so many ways I can view that question. Let’s break that it into half and see which one of the two is the better bet. To me, finding your true love sounds so vague because who are you to know that the person you’re with is your true love. C’mon, be realistic, there are more than 6 billion people in this world and who is to say that your true love isn’t in an igloo in the North Pole or in the Sahara Deserts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were to think of it that way, it simply means you’ll have to meet everyone on this planet to make sure you aren’t missing out on that ‘true love’. Realistically speaking, it’s impossible to do so and by choosing lots and lots of money, you get to travel the world in search of your true love, thereby increasing your chances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SdNtDOZ1DqI/AAAAAAAAAZU/pF8cEwkrO5U/s1600-h/5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 161px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SdNtDOZ1DqI/AAAAAAAAAZU/pF8cEwkrO5U/s320/5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319715487028154018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I’m sure some people might argue that true love is not just someone, it’s something that’s grown and nurtured by two people after spending plenty of time understanding together. Is it true that true love blossoms only after you make the effort to appreciate the special characteristics about your partner’s personality, eating habits, hobbies, interests etc? Does that imply that a couple that knows one another inside out has found their true love? Does it really take that much effort to find your true love?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SdNtCvGGtxI/AAAAAAAAAY8/VxE5mgSlwls/s1600-h/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SdNtCvGGtxI/AAAAAAAAAY8/VxE5mgSlwls/s320/2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319715478623926034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows? There's also this one other cliche that has been used countless of times in love stories is one that goes ' I knew you were the one since I first laid eyes on you '. I guess that's just another way of putting 'love at first sight' and that just creates conflict between what I just said earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SdNtC1Pw7VI/AAAAAAAAAZE/iap9p7dfvJ0/s1600-h/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 173px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SdNtC1Pw7VI/AAAAAAAAAZE/iap9p7dfvJ0/s320/3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319715480275053906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe after all that debate, true love just turns out to be something you read about or watch in the movies. A 'theory' that does not exist and only lives within the boundaries of our fantasies and dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SdNtCt3wQCI/AAAAAAAAAY0/cOpgBzguaMk/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 233px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SdNtCt3wQCI/AAAAAAAAAY0/cOpgBzguaMk/s320/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319715478295298082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This is a totally different topic from true love) I remember how I was once 'in love' and had the quote ‘Love takes two and conquers all’ as part of my nickname on MSN. Damn that felt like a long time ago. You look around and you see living proof of what love makes us do. You see an old man crossing the road on his way to see his grandchild that he loves so much, a working woman who is boarding the bus on her way to a job she hates just out of love for her son’s education or a teenager frantically calling his/her partner just to check if he/she’s safe. Have you just stopped in your tracks and just noticed these little things that happen around you? Absorb the moment and ask yourself how we have all come to this phase of civilization where love is all around us. Do you think we have come a very long way since the cavemen years?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-4225651663482442072?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4225651663482442072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=4225651663482442072' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/4225651663482442072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/4225651663482442072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2009/04/ive-delayed-this-post-long-enough-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SdNuQ10c43I/AAAAAAAAAZc/3XoB-T6JWUM/s72-c/Untitled.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-3476191245121459593</id><published>2008-11-09T16:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T16:56:49.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Much?</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; 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	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-priority:99; 	mso-style-qformat:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin-top:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-right:0cm; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt; 	mso-para-margin-left:0cm; 	line-height:115%; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:11.0pt; 	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;I was supposed to write this post after my exam, as promised, but I think I’m just gonna write it now since I’ll be spending the whole day in the library and it’ll be impossible for me to sit and study for 8 hours. Give me 2 seconds while I twist and turn to find a cosy position since I’m hoping it’ll be a long post to make up for all the recent reflections and thoughts that I’ve failed to pen for, 2 months? And trust me, I know what it’s like to open a blog and be disappointed to see the same thing over and over again (doesn’t matter whether it’s a good blog).&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SReFeqk67_I/AAAAAAAAAQs/wkJkDeu8-xc/s1600-h/1518260376_40553ca631_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SReFeqk67_I/AAAAAAAAAQs/wkJkDeu8-xc/s320/1518260376_40553ca631_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266825051104800754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;The past few days have been such a drag for me with the exams and assignment marks coming my way. It’s that time of the year where I travel outside my comfort zone of being able to just drift through life without having that many doubts about my own capabilities. Well, what does it really mean when you say you’re not in your comfort zone? Does it simply mean that you’re somehow in unfamiliar territory where things are just not how you like them to be?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Or do you reckon it’s just transition for a change that’s about to hit you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SReFe5f98kI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/2lQG2GVqIp0/s1600-h/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SReFe5f98kI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/2lQG2GVqIp0/s320/2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266825055110558274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;What’s more significant is the fact that most people (and yes, most people includes me) tend to just crawl back into their comfort zone without actually trying to embrace it, feel/do something different for a change and just go along with the flow. Every time I move back to it, It feels as though I’ve lost a small fraction of thrill and excitement in life. I mean, there’s nothing to life if you look forward to a brand new day knowing you’ve got nothing to look forward to? Don’t you think a person’s comfort zone would become a case of ‘same shit, different day‘ if it just carries on that way for a long period of time?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SReFfMWO-JI/AAAAAAAAARE/lCSysV0HWmM/s1600-h/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SReFfMWO-JI/AAAAAAAAARE/lCSysV0HWmM/s320/3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266825060170004626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Just the other day, I was listening to an oldies channel, pretty much the Light and Easy station of Brisbane and they were playing that Billy Joel song titled Honesty. Don’t know if you guys have heard of it but it’s one of those songs that seemed simple but pretty much sums up the true meaning of what the song is all about. Honesty. The lyrics went something like ‘’ Honesty is such a lonely word, everyone is so untrue. “. And don’t you think that’s true? I mean, most of the time people lie and justify it by telling themselves that they do it for the sake of the person they are lying to. They say the truth is overrated because if no one were to find out about their lies, both parties are happy because most of the time, the truth is what hurts right? Of course, everyone has their own definition of a lie but doesn’t a lie simply mean not telling the truth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SReFewxqF_I/AAAAAAAAAQ8/Y7-3Yy2wkWM/s1600-h/4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SReFewxqF_I/AAAAAAAAAQ8/Y7-3Yy2wkWM/s320/4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266825052768835570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;You can tell someone that what he/she is wearing is nice when it isn’t and that’s clearly a plain and simple lie. Yeah yeah, you didn’t want to hurt his/her feelings and make it all awkward by giving him/her your honest opinion. But doesn’t it mean that you’re cultivating a habit, a habit of not telling the truth? Old habits die hard and a few small lies like that would someday mean you’ll tell a bigger one. I’m not sure if it was an English or Chinese saying but it is said that everything bad starts with something small and insignificant and becomes worse. Like how a person who’s good at lying, turns into a thief and then ends up being a full-time robber. At the end of it all, it’s down to whether you think the end justifies the means or doing the right thing in the first place is more important. What do you think?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SReFetDatkI/AAAAAAAAAQk/T6gf6Xt_-7U/s1600-h/6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 243px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SReFetDatkI/AAAAAAAAAQk/T6gf6Xt_-7U/s320/6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266825051769583170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;On a very different note, as most of you would’ve known, Barack Obama is now the president-elect of the U.S which is something most, if not everyone predicted to happen. A majority of the people think that it’s a great achievement that the U.S have evolved from the days of apartheid to electing a black man to lead their country. They think that skin colour would no longer be a distinguishing factor in the U.S as ‘proven’ by the elections but if voting for someone because he/she is not black is racism, why doesn’t the same theory apply to only voting for someone because he’s black? I know it’s a fact that might be hard to swallow but I think that the elections in the U.S was in some way a means of proving that racism no longer exists on a large scale there. By saying this, I’m not really doubting Obama’s capabilities as a president but I guess there are always 2 sides to the story.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SReGXrNzFvI/AAAAAAAAARM/F9ZVOjc9y5w/s1600-h/Abdullah+sleeping+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 260px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SReGXrNzFvI/AAAAAAAAARM/F9ZVOjc9y5w/s320/Abdullah+sleeping+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266826030528796402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The funny thing is, after this happened, Badawi who I must say enjoys long naps while his family members run the country, has come out to say that anyone can be the Prime Minister of Malaysia regardless of their race. I must say, that’ll either take a long long time or it’ll take what I thought happened in the U.S for that to materialise.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m not a big fan of all this political bullshit but when it comes to Malaysian politics, I have to say it takes the number one spot in terms of sex scandals, lies and money laundering. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-3476191245121459593?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3476191245121459593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=3476191245121459593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/3476191245121459593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/3476191245121459593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/11/random-much.html' title='Random Much?'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SReFeqk67_I/AAAAAAAAAQs/wkJkDeu8-xc/s72-c/1518260376_40553ca631_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-9078009570781153375</id><published>2008-08-23T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T19:52:07.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emotions</title><content type='html'>It has all been quite a blur to me how someone can actually change from being thankful that they’ve been given the gift of life for one minute and not want to be on the face of the Earth the next. Don’t you think it’s so unfair how sometimes you just can’t help it when your emotions start playing up and you sometimes feel as though there is no meaning to life? I’m not sure if everyone has felt this way before but I have and it’s definitely one of the worst feelings I have ever  experienced in my 18 years of life (hah, since last week if you didn’t notice). I don’t remember who I heard this from but it probably holds a lot of truth and I thought I’d share it with you guys. He/She said something like “ When you look at someone, he/she may look happy and contented but how do you know he/she doesn’t cry him/herself to sleep? ‘’. Try to think of one person that looks really happy all the time and ask yourself if you really do know if it’s genuine happiness or just him/her being in the moment. Like I said, who can really tell something’s bothering him unless he/her shows it physically with that frown on his/her face or sighs every now and then. Who knows? I guess human emotions are created in such a way that they’re meant to vary every so often just to make you appreciate the times when you are happy and to look back at the happy times when you’re not. Stop me if you think I’m wrong here. I mean, like I said earlier, even the most optimistic person would have his bad day and feel as though whatever ‘problems’ whether real or imaginary ones created out of insecurity would all of a sudden appear out of nowhere and he’d feel as though there were bricks laid onto his chest. I guess what makes optimists different from the pessimists is how long it takes for them to get back to their happy self and stay that way longer. The worst thing about all these feelings and emotions is that it always has a way of biting you in the ass with the ‘’perfect’’ timings. To look at all these emotions through a negative perspective was definitely unfair but it’s these emotions that make the good ones seem like the best thing in the world. So if you think that life’s been tough on you, always remember that everything happens for a reason and the reason, it’s definitely a good one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-9078009570781153375?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/9078009570781153375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=9078009570781153375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/9078009570781153375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/9078009570781153375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/08/emotions_23.html' title='Emotions'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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-2164106666720577692.post-7341771842147162782</id><published>2008-07-31T23:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T03:58:30.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Absence makes the heart grow fonder...</title><content type='html'>Sigh, it's been such a long time since I last blogged. I wonder where all that mojo has gone coz i've just been postponing it from one day to another probably hoping for that " i MUST blog '' feeling to come back to me. Hah, I guess that day never came. Much like how you'll never get everything that you wish for. :) This post is gonna be really random coz I'll be like skipping from one topic to the other depending on what I recall mulling over the holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyway, the other day I was overhearing the conversation my father was having with one of my uncles. I don't remember how the topic came to light but they were talking about money and I heard one of them saying " When will we have enough? Getting rich is like chasing your own tail, you'll never be satisfied with your own wealth. I guess we all just have to know when to stop ".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SJLr7X8y33I/AAAAAAAAAPk/_2hi8Vswo_8/s1600-h/money2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SJLr7X8y33I/AAAAAAAAAPk/_2hi8Vswo_8/s320/money2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229501522604384114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it was then that it hit me that all of that held a lot of truth, that money is pretty much the root of all evil. I mean, take the richest man on earth for example, whether it'd be that Mexican tycoon, the man at Ikea's helm or Microsoft's head of the house, they may be able to afford islands but they can't buy say, a poor Asean country. Gosh, it was hard thinking of something that they couldn't afford, but anyway, I hope that point of mine got through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SJLsOdORYhI/AAAAAAAAAP0/HEf64OnwdZo/s1600-h/money.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SJLsOdORYhI/AAAAAAAAAP0/HEf64OnwdZo/s320/money.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229501850437378578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Of course, it's easy to say that some things in life just can't be bought but whoever says they can live without money is probably just talking with their butts. The difficult part of all that money business is to know when enough is enough and that spending all that time would only extend that barrier between you and other simple things in life that make you happy. And I wonder if I'll be asking myself this very question in the later parts of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SJLr7P-2LBI/AAAAAAAAAPc/SvzmqF6HHVU/s1600-h/parenting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SJLr7P-2LBI/AAAAAAAAAPc/SvzmqF6HHVU/s320/parenting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229501520465505298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on a totally different note, I'm sure as a teenager you have felt as though your parents existed in this world to torture you, and most of the time, it's because you're angry with what they did/said. No? I don't know about you, but i think parents in general have really high expectations for their children and sometimes expect them to do things that are beyond their reach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SJLr7E0qeKI/AAAAAAAAAPU/mXWTPzqnNzw/s1600-h/friends.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SJLr7E0qeKI/AAAAAAAAAPU/mXWTPzqnNzw/s320/friends.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229501517470005410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, these expectations are not exactly impossible but to the child, it's sacrificing things that they feel are worth more than let's say, better results for their exams. I know I know, good exam results will allow for more options in the future but really, how important is that compared to things like friendship and nurturing one's values and principles? That I really don't know. It's not as though there's a weighing scale that tells you whether to continue pursuing one or the other. What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say, it's great to finally be back blogging.. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-7341771842147162782?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7341771842147162782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=7341771842147162782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/7341771842147162782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/7341771842147162782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/07/absence-makes-heart-grow-fonder.html' title='Absence makes the heart grow fonder...'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SJLr7X8y33I/AAAAAAAAAPk/_2hi8Vswo_8/s72-c/money2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-4147346291569701231</id><published>2008-06-18T00:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T00:37:09.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex</title><content type='html'>A says:&lt;br /&gt;an american friend told me once&lt;br /&gt;A says:&lt;br /&gt;that normal guys think of sex every 10 seconds&lt;br /&gt;A says:&lt;br /&gt;while he, 7 seconds&lt;br /&gt;A says:&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy says:&lt;br /&gt;lol.&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy says:&lt;br /&gt;that's just bullshit..&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy says:&lt;br /&gt;maybe for him, yes..&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy says:&lt;br /&gt;but for a normal guy to think of sex every 10 seconds.. i have to say, sex will become REALLY REALLY boring..&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy says:&lt;br /&gt;since it's always on ur mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was part of a conversation I had with my friend and I thought I'd share it with you guys. Please tell me if you agree with my statement or it's just me living in denial. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-4147346291569701231?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4147346291569701231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=4147346291569701231' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/4147346291569701231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/4147346291569701231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/06/sex.html' title='Sex'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-1885016071500666120</id><published>2008-06-14T17:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T17:09:01.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Original Ending</title><content type='html'>This was what the ending was supposed to be like for Sepet.&lt;br /&gt;Which one did you prefer?&lt;br /&gt;Btw, the whole post was taken from the director, &lt;a href="http://yasminthestoryteller.blogspot.com/"&gt;Yasmin Ahmad&lt;/a&gt;'s blog for the convenience of those who wanted to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                              &lt;div style="float: right; margin-left: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;54. Inside father’s car, on the way to the airport.&lt;br /&gt;Mum urges Orked to open the envelope. Orked takes out from the envelope, a letter and a cassette. She slips the cassette into the player and turns it on. Home recording piano solo of ‘Belaian Jiwa’ comes on. Orked is visibly moved by the song. She proceeds to open the letter. The music carries through over the next scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55. Same time. Ext. The road. (as per letter)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hear the music, and over it we hear Jason’s words in his letter to Orked. We see him putting on his helmet and getting on his bike. He begins his journey to Keong’s house. He smiles to himself and looks excited. He can’t wait to get there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JASON:&lt;br /&gt;My darling Orked. God is answering my prayers. Maggie has decided not to have the baby. She said she won’t destroy her future because of one stupid man. I guess that means me. Orked, I don’t want to talk about her anymore. I want to talk about us. I tried to write a poem in Mandarin about you. I wanted to make you understand how I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the letter continues, we see Jason make a turn through some back alleys. We see some men in two cars catch sight of him, signal to each other, and start tailing him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JASON: (continues)&lt;br /&gt;But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t. I tried for days. The more I wrote, the more empty my words sounded. At first I felt panic. I couldn’t sleep for many nights. But then, the panic would go away everytime I saw your face, or just heard your voice. I used to write poetry because to me, it was like writing letters to God; to tell someone I couldn’t see, how I felt inside. Then finally, God replied. With a poem more beautiful than anything I had ever written. He gave me you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We see one car follow Jason into the alley. Realising he’s being followed, Jason speeds towards the end of the alley. The other call pulls up on that side. Jason brakes. We see him flung through the air as the men come out of their cars, whip out their guns and open fire at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JASON:&lt;br /&gt;You are my poetry from God, Orked. Let me hear your voice. Please call me. I will be waiting. Just call me, Orked, so I can sleep peacefully again. Your sayang, Jason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason is lying on the ground. His body is bullet-ridden and bloody, but he’s still alive. He is breathing heavily and mutters something unintelligeable under his breath. His eyes just stare at the sky. As we move in closer to his face, we see a tear streaming down the side of his temple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy steps out of a car. His head is partly wrapped in bandage. He walks up to Jason with a gun in his hand and puts the nozzle on one of his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut to far end of the alley as some policemen step out of their car just in time to see, from a distance, Jimmy hover over Jason’s body and pull the trigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;56. Same time. (Continue scene 54) Inside Orked’s father’s car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orked puts down the letter, puts her arms around her mother and cries her eyes out. Her mother looks to their father as if asking for his help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Father is visibly moved by the sincerity of his daughter’s tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He speaks loudly so as to be heard above his daughter’s weeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ABAHr:&lt;br /&gt;Look, I have a really bad feeling about all this. I don’t know how to put it in any other way, but I don’t like the idea of you going out with a boy involved with gangsters and who made a girl pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He pauses for a moment to take a deep breath and organise his thoughts. Orked stops sobbing and listens. He continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ABAH:&lt;br /&gt;You are my only child, Ked. All I want is for you to be safe and happy. Because I don’t know if I’ll be around long enough to see you through. I know jodoh is in God’s hands, and that as a human being, ultimately I have no idea what’s good and what’s not for you. But... I really, really don’t think this one particular boy is the right one for you. I’m sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orked starts to sob quietly. Suddenly, mother looks at father as if she has just seen a ghost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAK:&lt;br /&gt;What did you just say, sayang?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ABAH:&lt;br /&gt;What? I’m sorry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAK:&lt;br /&gt;No, no. Before that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ABAH:&lt;br /&gt;I don’t think...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAK:&lt;br /&gt;No. You said... I really, really don’t think this one particular boy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAK/ABAH (together):&lt;br /&gt;...is the right one for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAK:&lt;br /&gt;Those were the EXACT words aruah Abah said to me, when I told him that I wanted to marry you, sayang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orked suddenly stops sobbing and mutters “Yin-fen” under her breath. Her mother turns around and speaks to Orked as calmly as she can, slowly and deliberately. She wipes the tears off her own face, then off Orked’s face, as she speaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAK:&lt;br /&gt;Listen to me. I have been speaking to Jason many times over the phone these last few days. Yam too. He told us not to tell you. He also said that he wasn’t sure if you loved him because you never really said so. He’s still waiting for your call. My advice would be that if you really love him, this will be your last chance to tell him in a long, long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orked looks at her mother in a way that could melt any heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ORKED:&lt;br /&gt;Mak. Please may I borrow your phone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;57. Alley where Jason was shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gangsters have been handcuffed and are being ushered into Black Marias. Paramedics covers Jason’s body and carry it off on a stretcher. We see policemen talking to their walkie-talkies and we hear static and people taking from the other end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of the blue, a mobile phone rings. A policeman picks up Jason’s blood-stained pouch lying on the ground, opens it, and takes out the phone. He answers it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut to a far shot of the policeman talking to the phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;58. Same time. Ext. Outside Keong’s house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keong is sitting in the hot sun, by the drain outside the family’s terrace house. He is waiting for Jason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looks across the street and sees the little Chinese boy and the little Malay girl from Scene 1 in a playground, sharing a swing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keong looks down at the cast on his arm. He sees Jason’s handwriting on it. Keong bends his arm a little to read it. It says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I'm sorry. (signed) Jason.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59. Day. Int. Living room of jason’s shophouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Close-up of Jason’s poetry book. It is open. We hear Jason’s voice start reading from the page.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JASON:&lt;br /&gt;Bless this little heart,&lt;br /&gt;this white soul that has won the kiss of heaven.&lt;br /&gt;He loves the light of the sun,&lt;br /&gt;He loves the sight of his mother’s face.&lt;br /&gt;He has not learnt to hate the dust, and love the gold.&lt;br /&gt;Clasp him to your heart and bless him.&lt;br /&gt;He has come into this land of 100 crossroads.&lt;br /&gt;I know not how he chose you from the crowd,&lt;br /&gt;came to your door, grasped your hand to ask his way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We slowly pull away from the book as Jason’s voice continues to read. As we go further from the book, we see that there’s no Jason, just his voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JASON:&lt;br /&gt;He followed you, laughing and talking, without a doubt&lt;br /&gt;in his heart.&lt;br /&gt;Keep his trust, lead him straight, and bless him.&lt;br /&gt;Lay your hand on his head,&lt;br /&gt;and pray that though the waves beneath him grow&lt;br /&gt;threatening,&lt;br /&gt;yet the breath from above him will fill his sails and&lt;br /&gt;waft him to the haven of peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We pull further until we reach Jason’s mother lying on the sofa. She’s sleeping peacefully. We close in on her face as Jason’s voice completes the poem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JASON:&lt;br /&gt;Forget him not in your hurry,&lt;br /&gt;let him come to your heart and bless him...&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight, mah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut to black. Roll credits.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-1885016071500666120?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1885016071500666120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=1885016071500666120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/1885016071500666120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/1885016071500666120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/06/original-ending.html' title='The Original Ending'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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-2164106666720577692.post-6849105527215531095</id><published>2008-06-08T10:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T10:09:31.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies</title><content type='html'>Do you notice how you always watch movies but tend to miss out on some of the meaningful things that were said by the actors/actresses only to read it somewhere knowing you've heard of it before? Lol and no, i'm not talking about the boyfriends/girlfriends that put movie quotes into their love letters thinking it's a nice thing to do. That's so insincere, no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of these meaningful things are said so fast in a movie that you sometimes fail to catch what he/she said and really understand what was meant by those few words. Don't you think that the good movies are often written by scriptwriters that place their heart, soul and emotion into the movie itself and imagine what they themselves would say if put in the same situation? Of course, they also tend to add a bit of flowery language to make it sound rather different and give the words more life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SEwRHTCk0PI/AAAAAAAAAO0/3iIofnIRKz8/s1600-h/Sepet_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SEwRHTCk0PI/AAAAAAAAAO0/3iIofnIRKz8/s320/Sepet_poster.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209557686028652786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's take 'Sepet' as an example so I can directly quote from a few scenes of a movie and you'll get what I mean. Those who have not watched Sepet yet might not want to read on because it may spoil the movie and I wouldn't wanna do that coz people have done the same to me and I hated it. Sepet's probably also on my top 10 movies list because it brings out all the humour, romance and drama a movie should with lots of Malaysian cultures that I can relate to (pirated dvds, pasar malams, gangsterism and &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;an incapable Prime Minister&lt;/span&gt;). Anyway, I'll give you the &lt;a href="http://www.crunchyroll.com/group/CRSeries_-_Sepet_-_Movie"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt; for the movie just in case anyone wants to watch or rewatch it on Crunchy Roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those who want to read on but have not watched the movie, just to let you know, Orked's the Malay girl and Jason's the Chinese boy and it revolves around them for most of the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SEwRHgoEAHI/AAAAAAAAAO8/w5pM9jmu_aw/s1600-h/sepet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SEwRHgoEAHI/AAAAAAAAAO8/w5pM9jmu_aw/s320/sepet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209557689675546738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part 1&lt;br /&gt;Orked: It's like what I said, you like who you like. I mean, who cares if that someone likes the other someone because of their race. It’s when they hate them, that’s the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time I watched the movie I think I missed out on what she said. This was probably written in relation to some of the racial tensions that have plagued Malaysia for the past few decades. Malaysians must realise that they have lived harmoniously over the past 50 years albeit the unforseen May 13th 1969 incident and that whatever the government throws their way(eg: petrol price hike), these are just minor challenges compared to maintaining racial harmony. No matter what the Prime Minister or opposition leaders say, the people/rakyat are the ones who will decide who governs this country and no one can take that away from us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part 2&lt;br /&gt;Orked: I like your hair.&lt;br /&gt;Jason: Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;Orked: Where’d you get your hair done?&lt;br /&gt;Jason: Bisexual hair salon.&lt;br /&gt;Orked: I think you meant unisex hair salon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I burst out in laughter the first time I watched this scene. Don't you think it's funny how a simple mistake like this can make such a big difference to the meaning of the whole sentence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part 3&lt;br /&gt;Jason: Orked, how long do you think it takes to fall in love?&lt;br /&gt;Orked: A minute. How long did it take for you to fall in love with me?&lt;br /&gt;Jason: Less than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SEwRH-5Z_UI/AAAAAAAAAPE/86zehJTsS_Q/s1600-h/Untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SEwRH-5Z_UI/AAAAAAAAAPE/86zehJTsS_Q/s320/Untitled.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209557697801354562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although this part was quite cliche, I could feel the sincerity from both Jason and Orked even though I was watching the movie for the second time and knew every word the 2 of them were gonna say to each other. I think that there's no such thing as love at first sight and that it doesn't mean that if he/she's already your boyfriend that you do love him/her. Love takes time and you would know it's love when you're ready to look him/her in the eye and tell him/her that you love him/her. And yes, it takes less than a minute to realise it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part 4&lt;br /&gt;Orked’s Father : I’ll never understand you women even if i live to be a hundred. So pelik and confusing.&lt;br /&gt;Orked’s Mother: It’s ok sayang, your job is to love us, not to understand us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SEwRH6Kmb-I/AAAAAAAAAPM/v2KaxilgpyA/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SEwRH6Kmb-I/AAAAAAAAAPM/v2KaxilgpyA/s320/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209557696531296226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So all you women out there, is this true? Do we only have to love but not understand you? Would our love be sufficient even if we fail to understand why women enjoy things like shopping and cuddling after sex (refer to my previous post)? If the way to a man's heart is through his tummy, then how do we reach a woman's heart?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-6849105527215531095?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/6849105527215531095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=6849105527215531095' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/6849105527215531095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/6849105527215531095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/06/movies.html' title='Movies'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SEwRHTCk0PI/AAAAAAAAAO0/3iIofnIRKz8/s72-c/Sepet_poster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-4417936882275092789</id><published>2008-06-07T10:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T10:54:02.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jon Mclaughlin</title><content type='html'>I've never done this before but I've always thought the lyrics to this song was quite meaningful. If you haven't heard of him, go open your Limewire now and download any of his songs. He's quite good if you're into slow and meaningful songs. This song is titled Human and it's true that because of the sole fact that we're humans, we tend to torture ourselves by hurting and not move on and heal from our past mistakes/experiences. And always fighting what we're feeling? I'm sure I'm not the only one who has done that. I guess sometimes you just have to do the unexpected and not let yourself be blinded by all that emotion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;          Can you tell me how we got in this situation&lt;br /&gt;I can't seem to get you off my mind&lt;br /&gt;All these ups and downs they trip up our good intentions&lt;br /&gt;Nobody said this was an easy ride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterall, we're only human&lt;br /&gt;Always fighting what we're feeling&lt;br /&gt;Hurt instead of healing&lt;br /&gt;Afterall, we're only human&lt;br /&gt;Is there any other reason why we stay instead of leaving afterall?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can we get back to this point in the in this conversation&lt;br /&gt;When we talk things through each others eyes&lt;br /&gt;Cause now all I see is a new and end devastation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterall, we're only human&lt;br /&gt;Always fighting what we're feeling&lt;br /&gt;hurt instead of healing&lt;br /&gt;Afterall, we're only human&lt;br /&gt;Is there any other reason why we stay instead of leaving?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm smart enough to know that life goes by&lt;br /&gt;and it leaves a trail of broken thoughts behind&lt;br /&gt;if you fear of letting go, just give me time&lt;br /&gt;i'll come running to your side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you tell me how we got in this situation&lt;br /&gt;I can't seem to get you off my mind&lt;br /&gt;cause afterall we're only human&lt;br /&gt;Always fighting what we're feeling&lt;br /&gt;hurt instead of healing&lt;br /&gt;Afterall, we're only human&lt;br /&gt;Is there any other reason why we stay instead of leaving &lt;img src="http://www.metrolyrics.com/images/l/2147446157.jpg" height="1" width="1" /&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/2164106666720577692-4417936882275092789?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4417936882275092789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=4417936882275092789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/4417936882275092789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/4417936882275092789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/06/jon-mclaughlin.html' title='Jon Mclaughlin'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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-2164106666720577692.post-8681324511369533100</id><published>2008-06-03T12:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T13:11:33.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Transformers!</title><content type='html'>This is gonna be a really short post that's meant to warn all the Transformers fans out there *cough Sheng cough Heng*. This morning I was reading like news online and there was this one piece of news on how a man was stopped from boarding a plane because he was wearing a Transformers t-shirt that had one of the characters holding a gun. He was told something like " Sir, we can't let you in because you've got a gun ON YOUR SHIRT " and had to change before he was allowed on to the plane. Seriously, do the immigration officers have no common sense or has it become that obvious and evident of how insecure this world has become? Or maybe they think that one of the Transformers is gonna jump out of the t-shirt holding a gun and try to hijack the plane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SEWlIoAA-OI/AAAAAAAAAOc/GGomjZrvBjk/s1600-h/a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SEWlIoAA-OI/AAAAAAAAAOc/GGomjZrvBjk/s400/a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207750111718865122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And I was thinking of getting a Sweeney Todd shirt that would have a picture of Johnny Depp holding his blade like that. Oh well, it may be a threat to national security. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-8681324511369533100?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8681324511369533100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=8681324511369533100' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/8681324511369533100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/8681324511369533100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/06/transformers.html' title='Transformers!'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SEWlIoAA-OI/AAAAAAAAAOc/GGomjZrvBjk/s72-c/a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-7284866501796052522</id><published>2008-05-29T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T08:08:42.968-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Men and Women</title><content type='html'>Just 10 minutes ago, I was reading a news website and I came across an article with quite an interesting article titled " Opposite sex drives you crazy - the causes ". I'm sure I wouldn't be the only one to admit the Internet has become such an important part of the lives of many that you can't live without the likes of 'Google-ing" or "YouTube-ing something. Seriously, what can't you do with a stable and fast internet connection? Shopping? E-banking? Entertainment? News? Live results?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SD7GjG_jrXI/AAAAAAAAAOM/pj_YFcOhdN0/s1600-h/2199686373_064ea90e06.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SD7GjG_jrXI/AAAAAAAAAOM/pj_YFcOhdN0/s320/2199686373_064ea90e06.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205816525761785202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyway, back to the topic. I know that I'm probably not the first one to blog about this but I couldn't help but to use this post as an excuse as to find out more on all the guy and girl issues that most of us make fun of on a daily basis. It's weird how some things could never be explained just by studying the general 'personality side' of both sexes but somehow had something to do with science/biology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SD7GiG_jrUI/AAAAAAAAAN0/jGzDJXf66-U/s1600-h/211988863_06c4b10ac6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SD7GiG_jrUI/AAAAAAAAAN0/jGzDJXf66-U/s320/211988863_06c4b10ac6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205816508581915970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one was on the perception of how women love to cuddle after sex whereas men just want to fall asleep. Hah, this I can't speak through experience but it seems as though it's always the case when u watch like dramas/movies and the wife always complains when the husband falls asleep right after sex. It is actually said that men and women both release hormones called oxytocin which is associated with love and sorta encourages bonding between the two sexes. The sad thing is, men can't control their testosterone level after sex, thereby neutralizing whatever oxytocin they produced. Mm, so all the women out there, don't blame men when they fall asleep after sex, they can't help it. :) But of course, I think it's nice to hear sweet nothings from ur loved ones at any time of the day, so don't hold back after sex. Blurt it all out when the hormones are doing its job!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl 1: Let's go shopping!&lt;br /&gt;Girl 2: What are we buying?&lt;br /&gt;Girl 1: I don't know. Let's just go and we'll definitely find something we need/want to buy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't that what tends to happen when girls go shopping? It's not the best kept secret that women can walk in shopping malls for hours and end up empty handed whereas men only need close to an hour to find what they're looking for and leave. And btw, I'm not implying that we, men, leave the shopping mall to do more productive things like playing the playstation or going for a few games of foosball with our friends ( and yes, i miss foosball ). There was also a study which was titled "Men Buy, Women Shop" that said  that men enjoyed shopping only when they are specifically looking for something and not wandering aimlessly waiting for something to catch their attention. Can't blame us for being more task-oriented uh coz it all goes back to the days when men went to 'hunt' for food and losing focus meant having no food for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SD7Gi2_jrVI/AAAAAAAAAN8/mC29prj8AgQ/s1600-h/189713200_87a87419af.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SD7Gi2_jrVI/AAAAAAAAAN8/mC29prj8AgQ/s320/189713200_87a87419af.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205816521466817874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Generally, people think that women stress about every little detail and are more likely to make mountains out of molehills whereas men seem to always have the 'situation under control'. It's probably most evident when men always insist on trying every possible route before stopping to ask for directions. And yes, this can also be explained by studying all the wonderful hormones in your body. Men, tend to have more dopamine, which is a pleasure-inducing chemical that is released when someone solves a problem whereas women produce serotonin when they relieve their stress by talking and talking and talking and talking and relating to their problems. Oops, i think that was one 'and talking' too many. Oh well.. That's not a secret too anyway, no? And i DON'T think it's a bad thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SD7GjG_jrWI/AAAAAAAAAOE/NaVhsXIWosw/s1600-h/173503843_b4bcd2f15d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SD7GjG_jrWI/AAAAAAAAAOE/NaVhsXIWosw/s320/173503843_b4bcd2f15d.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205816525761785186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I think would be fun is to have female hormones pumped into me probably a day before I die so that I can experience the fun of wandering around shopping malls and say sweet nothings instead of falling asleep after sex.. Oh wait, but if that happens, the next day when I'm meant to die, i'll have the face of a man but have boobs? I think i'll just take that back. Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assumptions for this post : I'm a MAN and not a BOY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: I'm definitely not a sexist.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-7284866501796052522?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7284866501796052522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=7284866501796052522' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/7284866501796052522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/7284866501796052522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/05/men-and-women.html' title='Men and Women'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SD7GjG_jrXI/AAAAAAAAAOM/pj_YFcOhdN0/s72-c/2199686373_064ea90e06.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-7902841624889652364</id><published>2008-05-22T20:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T20:58:42.699-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Champions of Europe</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDY_8m_jrMI/AAAAAAAAAM0/eOFWebD_MP4/s1600-h/AA.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDY_8m_jrMI/AAAAAAAAAM0/eOFWebD_MP4/s400/AA.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203416729965014210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;MUAHAHAHA! Looks like his face cost him the EPL and Champions League.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDY_8W_jrKI/AAAAAAAAAMk/hRyXhp0VPMg/s1600-h/_44682186_giggs282pa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDY_8W_jrKI/AAAAAAAAAMk/hRyXhp0VPMg/s400/_44682186_giggs282pa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203416725670046882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Specially for Jing to see only.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDY_8m_jrNI/AAAAAAAAAM8/CaUsCN_UEc8/s1600-h/bb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDY_8m_jrNI/AAAAAAAAAM8/CaUsCN_UEc8/s400/bb.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203416729965014226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Although this is what he does best... now..Lol. ( mind u, he used to be my fav player )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDY_82_jrOI/AAAAAAAAANE/BCPjzdOT51A/s1600-h/cc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDY_82_jrOI/AAAAAAAAANE/BCPjzdOT51A/s400/cc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203416734259981538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;*clap clap* I should've bought United instead *clap clap*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDY_8m_jrLI/AAAAAAAAAMs/aUs_oAsDpVE/s1600-h/_44679992_utd2_getty_466.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDY_8m_jrLI/AAAAAAAAAMs/aUs_oAsDpVE/s400/_44679992_utd2_getty_466.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203416729965014194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Is it me or does Silvestre look like a mannequin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDZAEG_jrPI/AAAAAAAAANM/jA5ilGsDFlE/s1600-h/ee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDZAEG_jrPI/AAAAAAAAANM/jA5ilGsDFlE/s400/ee.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203416858814033138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Champions of EUROPE 2007/2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Was it only me or did the United fans feel that it was going to be our night when you saw Drogba's shot hit the post? Who would've thought Ronaldo would miss the penalty in the shootout? Did anyone predict that Park would be left out of the squad even though he's a much better player than Fletcher? Would it have made a difference if Drogba didn't get sent off and he was the one to take the crucial penalty instead of Terry? Was the pitch just too shitty for a Champions League final?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MANY QUESTIONS LEFT UNANSWERED BUT WHAT I DO KNOW IS UNITED IS THE CHAMPIONS OF THE ENGLISH PREMIER LEAGUE AND UEFA CHAMPIONS LEAGUE! starts singing * we are the CHAMPIONS my friends * for the second time this year... and it feels great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;and i won a bet too albeit the wrong predictions. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-7902841624889652364?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7902841624889652364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=7902841624889652364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/7902841624889652364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/7902841624889652364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/05/champions-of-europe.html' title='Champions of Europe'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDY_8m_jrMI/AAAAAAAAAM0/eOFWebD_MP4/s72-c/AA.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-3037024532925614361</id><published>2008-05-21T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T11:33:12.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Predictions</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDQwnuKYUoI/AAAAAAAAAMU/kCbwBMGkSiA/s1600-h/425.cook.archuleta.040208.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDQwnuKYUoI/AAAAAAAAAMU/kCbwBMGkSiA/s400/425.cook.archuleta.040208.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202836928484364930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Cook VS Archuleta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verdict : Rooting for Cook but money on &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Archulet&lt;/span&gt;a to win. It's quite obvious who the favourite would be after the difference in quality of song choice and influential judges' comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDQx6uKYUpI/AAAAAAAAAMc/HkXDTS5I2so/s1600-h/0923MUvsChelsea03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDQx6uKYUpI/AAAAAAAAAMc/HkXDTS5I2so/s400/0923MUvsChelsea03.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202838354413507218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Manchester United VS Chelsea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Verdict: Tight game. United to succesfully launch a few counter-attacks and win by at least 2 goals. Jeremy to win the bet against Rianne. ( United, please don't make me eat my words, let's show them what we've got TONIGHT! )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/2164106666720577692-3037024532925614361?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/3037024532925614361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=3037024532925614361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/3037024532925614361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/3037024532925614361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/05/predictions.html' title='Predictions'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDQwnuKYUoI/AAAAAAAAAMU/kCbwBMGkSiA/s72-c/425.cook.archuleta.040208.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-2549186161799701003</id><published>2008-05-18T02:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T08:11:52.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDGQ5eKYUjI/AAAAAAAAALs/qmoLRggZ0Cg/s1600-h/1674821300_a6f2257a0b_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDGQ5eKYUjI/AAAAAAAAALs/qmoLRggZ0Cg/s400/1674821300_a6f2257a0b_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202098361613177394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find it so weird how I always get all these random thoughts in my head everytime I take a shower in the morning. Is it the hot water that stimulates the brain to think more than someone should? Hmm. Maybe it's the aroma from the shampoo or body wash that I use that makes thinking so much easier?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDGRyeKYUkI/AAAAAAAAAL0/7uL_hN-sF7Y/s1600-h/130478930_28505fc57d_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDGRyeKYUkI/AAAAAAAAAL0/7uL_hN-sF7Y/s400/130478930_28505fc57d_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202099340865720898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Highly unlikely I suppose, it's probably just that time of the day where my brain chooses to work the most. I think the next time I'm sitting for an exam that requires lots of thinking, I'm gonna pretend I'm in the shower and maybe JUST maybe all the answers would appear in my head. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyway, moving on to what I'm supposed to be blogging about, that random thought in my head. Have you wondered why most adults work from 9 to 5 instead of straying from their daily routine and doing something more enjoyable? And why our parents spent close to half their life working just so they can provide us with quality education or nicer clothes to wear? Or maybe the reason why most of us go to university/college everyday instead of just running away from it all and just start working?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDGSuOKYUlI/AAAAAAAAAL8/GLy4ysjq2Vg/s1600-h/7727513_30a95ce03b_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDGSuOKYUlI/AAAAAAAAAL8/GLy4ysjq2Vg/s400/7727513_30a95ce03b_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202100367362904658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all sounds like a routine to you but what some people fail to see is that they are simply commited to what they do everyday. And yes, commitment isn't something that should be taken lightly. Like I said, it's what makes people do what they do everyday instead of just skipping all the hoo-hahs in life and doing what they like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDGQ4-KYUiI/AAAAAAAAALk/z8seMj9dQlU/s1600-h/215881394_7bf881f0c6_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDGQ4-KYUiI/AAAAAAAAALk/z8seMj9dQlU/s400/215881394_7bf881f0c6_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202098353023242786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haven't you felt the slightest temptation to just leave everything behind and start your life all over again only to dismiss that thought as being plain silly? That's the commitment to whatever you do talking and you can never seem to just brush it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the best way to see commitment is when you look at two people who are very much in love when they are together and have stuck together through all the rough patches and the agonising times apart. It's not a secret that we humans tend to get lonely when our loved ones aren't around us. Let's say your boyfriend/girlfriend is a few thousand miles away and the two of you have to spend a considerable amount of time apart. And I'm quite sure I'm right to think that in their most loneliest of times, people tend to be pessimistic and can't help but predict the worst things that can happen.  Well according to me, I won't say that it's the love that's holding the couple together, but more of the commitment towards the relationship they have built.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDGYn-KYUnI/AAAAAAAAAMM/vAPstiu5fL0/s1600-h/891769569_7be6da393c_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDGYn-KYUnI/AAAAAAAAAMM/vAPstiu5fL0/s400/891769569_7be6da393c_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202106857058488946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't mind me adding this, I think it's a wonderful thing that two people can remain committed even though the relationship sometimes seems vague and unreal. Kudos to all the couples that have gone through this and have not stopped believing in the best of your partner. At the end of it all, isn't that what makes it special?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-2549186161799701003?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/2549186161799701003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=2549186161799701003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/2549186161799701003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/2549186161799701003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-find-it-so-weird-how-i-always-get-all.html' title=''/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SDGQ5eKYUjI/AAAAAAAAALs/qmoLRggZ0Cg/s72-c/1674821300_a6f2257a0b_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-8911875512238694795</id><published>2008-05-12T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T11:10:05.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomness...</title><content type='html'>Hey guys! You know how the title says " Randomness that reach new heights... " and how I talked about how blogs always fall under a certain category. Well, I just thought I'd make mine different with the different types of posts that I write. :) This is probably the 2nd Picture Post and I hope you guys would find it as entertaining as I find it to be. I remember how people laughed when they saw the first one which featured my baby sister, Isabelle. These were taken during the buffet lunch on Mother's Day last weekend. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiEU-KYUcI/AAAAAAAAAK0/haJC1rFf5Rs/s1600-h/P5110053+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiEU-KYUcI/AAAAAAAAAK0/haJC1rFf5Rs/s400/P5110053+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199551265618022850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I pointed out a picture on the wall of a father and daughter doing the nose-to-nose pose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiEVOKYUdI/AAAAAAAAAK8/3ShD4_1_QwI/s1600-h/P5110055+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiEVOKYUdI/AAAAAAAAAK8/3ShD4_1_QwI/s400/P5110055+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199551269912990162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We tried to copy it. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiEVeKYUfI/AAAAAAAAALM/TGQaMHRij2c/s1600-h/P5110060+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiEVeKYUfI/AAAAAAAAALM/TGQaMHRij2c/s400/P5110060+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199551274207957490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She asked me to teach her how to burp. Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiEVOKYUeI/AAAAAAAAALE/MM0CUZw_Pf8/s1600-h/P5110058+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiEVOKYUeI/AAAAAAAAALE/MM0CUZw_Pf8/s400/P5110058+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199551269912990178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I then told her to burp, she has to open her mouth and inflate her nostrils as well. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;That's how she looked close up. I was laughing so hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiDzuKYUXI/AAAAAAAAAKM/PJ6VhO9218E/s1600-h/P5110031+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiDzuKYUXI/AAAAAAAAAKM/PJ6VhO9218E/s400/P5110031+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199550694387372402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My One &amp;amp; Only Arm-rest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiD0eKYUYI/AAAAAAAAAKU/BE8E5UE2IbM/s1600-h/P5110036+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiD0eKYUYI/AAAAAAAAAKU/BE8E5UE2IbM/s400/P5110036+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199550707272274306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A failed attempt of the 'Titanic-Pose'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiEq-KYUhI/AAAAAAAAALc/QRfexqhjKaY/s1600-h/P5110037+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiEq-KYUhI/AAAAAAAAALc/QRfexqhjKaY/s400/P5110037+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199551643575144978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dance move on the couch? Haha Give it a try :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiD0-KYUaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/VfESOiWFQFQ/s1600-h/P5110039+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiD0-KYUaI/AAAAAAAAAKk/VfESOiWFQFQ/s400/P5110039+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199550715862208930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Her chin got heavy, brother saves the day. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiD1OKYUbI/AAAAAAAAAKs/Mz6vSq9vXfQ/s1600-h/P5110046+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiD1OKYUbI/AAAAAAAAAKs/Mz6vSq9vXfQ/s400/P5110046+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199550720157176242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was meant to be the serious look, but she's pouting. Cute rather than serious, no? :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiDTuKYUWI/AAAAAAAAAKE/uE8iT4w5x2I/s1600-h/P5110028+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiDTuKYUWI/AAAAAAAAAKE/uE8iT4w5x2I/s400/P5110028+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199550144631558498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One straw. 2 mouths. Problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiEVeKYUgI/AAAAAAAAALU/cqZqPOkdPg0/s1600-h/P5110061+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiEVeKYUgI/AAAAAAAAALU/cqZqPOkdPg0/s400/P5110061+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199551274207957506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This pose was just classic! (my finger WASN'T in her nose k) Haha&lt;/div&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/2164106666720577692-8911875512238694795?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8911875512238694795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=8911875512238694795' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/8911875512238694795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/8911875512238694795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/05/randomness.html' title='Randomness...'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCiEU-KYUcI/AAAAAAAAAK0/haJC1rFf5Rs/s72-c/P5110053+%5B%5D.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-216146718465761379</id><published>2008-05-11T10:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T10:42:28.768-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCcr4uKYUPI/AAAAAAAAAJM/j94zm-L2LK0/s1600-h/mu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCcr4uKYUPI/AAAAAAAAAJM/j94zm-L2LK0/s400/mu.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199172548286763250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;MWAH MWAH MWAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;*continues singing* we are the champions my friends..... and we'll keep on fighting till the end.. no time for losers ( Chelsea ).. cause we are the champions... of the EPL! :) Now you know why Chelsea, Liverpool and Arsenal can't win the EPL.. Thank you for proving me right United! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCcvuuKYUUI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/7kVHXjVNVaM/s1600-h/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCcvuuKYUUI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/7kVHXjVNVaM/s320/2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199176774534582594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;CHAMPIONS OF THE EPL SEASON 07/08&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCctHOKYURI/AAAAAAAAAJc/nXX0CKundcc/s1600-h/mu2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCctHOKYURI/AAAAAAAAAJc/nXX0CKundcc/s400/mu2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199173896906494226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; MOSCOW HERE WE COME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCcvS-KYUTI/AAAAAAAAAJs/B9AofZjK5xM/s1600-h/11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCcvS-KYUTI/AAAAAAAAAJs/B9AofZjK5xM/s320/11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199176297793212722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You've done it again, Sir!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCcvPeKYUSI/AAAAAAAAAJk/AwhAX8Rj1Rs/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCcvPeKYUSI/AAAAAAAAAJk/AwhAX8Rj1Rs/s320/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199176237663670562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Makes it even sweeter.. Lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Yu Jing : Yes yes, Giggs saved the day.. Lol Thank god he scored. My heart would've missed a few more beats if he didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Jing Xiu: Chelsea? What Chelsea? Boooooo... Haha that's for saying it to my face when Chelsea was lucky to beat Man U.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to all the United fans out there, we always take the hardest route out, but what's important is that we prevail as CHAMPIONS at the end of it all. GLORY GLORY MAN UNITED!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-216146718465761379?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/216146718465761379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=216146718465761379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/216146718465761379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/216146718465761379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/05/we-are-champions.html' title='WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS!'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCcr4uKYUPI/AAAAAAAAAJM/j94zm-L2LK0/s72-c/mu.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-7936124871738248146</id><published>2008-05-05T00:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T10:21:30.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My One &amp; Only High School</title><content type='html'>Sri KL, the high school I practically grew up in, is considerably one of the best private schools in Malaysia because of the vast amount of facilities and qualified teachers. I'm quite sure this isn't a biased judgement just because I was a student there but it definitely is on the same level as the likes of Sri KDU and Sri Cempaka (which includes the ridiculous fees as well). Hmm..come to think of it, i was there for 12 out of 17 years of my life which translates to about 3/4s of my life. That's a long time uh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCAVHs5UoxI/AAAAAAAAAIs/rft2KXyvi0o/s1600-h/333.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCAVHs5UoxI/AAAAAAAAAIs/rft2KXyvi0o/s320/333.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197177192040407826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It won't be wrong to say that Sri KL (it should be changed to Sri SJ coz it's no longer in KL) changed my life and I'm quite sure it was for the better with all the knowledge and interesting people I got to know. These people ranged from the 'canteen auntie' in primary school who always gave me the biggest drumstick for my nasi lemak to my classmate in Standard 6 who was known as and looked really like a Mad Scientist. Do tell me if any of you guys remember who he is. Lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I'm already at this topic, why don't I share with you guys one of the 'fond' memories I had over at Sri KL. It all started when Colin and I were playing truant with the excuse of helping out with the preparations for Sports Day. If I remember correctly, it was at about 11 in the morning and the principal was making his routinely rounds around the school to make sure everything was in order. Coincidentally, Colin and I were in a classroom 2 corridors away and we happened to notice him walking towards our direction. Seeing that we were playing truant and had no excuse to do so, we had to decide whether to take our chances and remain where we were or flee from the classroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCSIAQ-Jk8I/AAAAAAAAAJE/jI3SZhSIA44/s1600-h/112904500_752d68f186_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCSIAQ-Jk8I/AAAAAAAAAJE/jI3SZhSIA44/s320/112904500_752d68f186_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198429408029414338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were quite sure that we couldn't prove that we weren't playing truant if he were to interrogate us so we decided to run to a nearby classroom. As we were running out, I was quite sure he caught a glimpse of us but we still decided to hide behind the piano of an empty music room. We were playing the game of hide-and-seek that we were so fond of during our primary days, but this time we were playing it with the principal of our school and the odds were against us. We knew our luck ran out when we heard the door creaking open and the room that was once dark lit up as sunlight came through the open space. Our principal walked in and headed straight to the back of the piano and all I could say was " Hi Mr Chew (my principal's name) ". I wonder how stupid I sounded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCAVgM5UoyI/AAAAAAAAAI0/n-fyniKEGeY/s1600-h/222.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCAVgM5UoyI/AAAAAAAAAI0/n-fyniKEGeY/s320/222.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197177612947202850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As always, there are always 2 sides to every story and Sri KL wasn't just all fun and good experiences. I remember how I used to enjoy the roti canai that they served but hated the deep-fried ''prawns'' which was mostly if not all flour. And of course, what's a school without the teachers? I enjoyed learning History with Ms Kamala being my teacher but hated how my Physics teacher explained things like " Gamma ray is a ray ". Seriously, how does that answer my question of what gamma ray is. I also enjoyed playing football during recess but hated how I had to skip my lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCAWcs5UozI/AAAAAAAAAI8/UQLVWOGz3PU/s1600-h/zz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCAWcs5UozI/AAAAAAAAAI8/UQLVWOGz3PU/s320/zz.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197178652329288498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like all the other high schools, Sri KL aims to educate young minds hoping that they would one day be able to use their high school qualifications to enter college and go on to finding a good job. Below is an example of what a Sri KL graduate looks like. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCATZs5UowI/AAAAAAAAAIk/cxYQ9-DdNh4/s1600-h/back+home+133+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCATZs5UowI/AAAAAAAAAIk/cxYQ9-DdNh4/s320/back+home+133+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197175302254797570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just for laughs. Rachel took a picture of a gardener who was wearing the Sri KL uniform.&lt;br /&gt;Wonder where he got it from.&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/2164106666720577692-7936124871738248146?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7936124871738248146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=7936124871738248146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/7936124871738248146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/7936124871738248146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-one-only-high-school.html' title='My One &amp; Only High School'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SCAVHs5UoxI/AAAAAAAAAIs/rft2KXyvi0o/s72-c/333.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-8889504020218269157</id><published>2008-04-30T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T03:10:56.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Do You Think?</title><content type='html'>A very good morning I bid to the honorable judges, accurate timekeeper and my worthy opponents. Today, I stand before you to defend the very fact that blogging is something that I enjoy doing. Mm, I know I know, that's how an introduction of a speaker in a debate competition sounds like and isn't anything like what I'm doing here, blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure if I'm the only one, but at times when I read blogs, it seems as though the writer is trying to prove his/her point making it really similar to a debate competition. The only ingredient missing is the 'accurate' timekeeper coz you'll definitely have people disagreeing with you(worthy opponents) and judging whatever you wrote (honorable judges). No?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SB1zys5UovI/AAAAAAAAAIc/5dIG0CVdCpg/s1600-h/3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SB1zys5UovI/AAAAAAAAAIc/5dIG0CVdCpg/s320/3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196436859937661682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few years of blog hopping, I have come to realize that blogging, which is a lot like the word 'love', has many different meanings varying on a person to person basis. Some people view blogs as their diaries, writing about their rather interesting/boring daily activities  so that their readers would know what they've been doing without being anywhere near them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mind you, I've got nothing against these blogs, I just think of it as technology playing its part and making it more convenient for people to type rather than write in their book-like diaries. I guess it's also a way of keeping track of what you've done and letting you look back on your posts written knowing what you did that on that very day, let's say 5 years ago. Good way of reminiscing uh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SB1zys5UouI/AAAAAAAAAIU/8JPHqg6xd3c/s1600-h/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SB1zys5UouI/AAAAAAAAAIU/8JPHqg6xd3c/s320/1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196436859937661666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, there are also those blogs that contain 90% pictures and 10% captions, making it  rather similar to the 'daily activities ' blog. I'm guessing that those writers really believe in the theory that 'a picture can paint a thousand words'. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy reading those kind of blogs coz it's so much easier to look at pictures rather than to read about their daily activities. And yes, it's also great that I get to stay updated on the lives of people I rarely talk to but still care about  through those pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know which category my blog falls under, but whatever it is, I think that blogging's probably quite beneficial for everyone coz you don't have to keep all your thoughts to yourself no matter how silly or random it may be. So if you don't have one, why not click that 'create blog' link at the top and you'll know what I mean. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SB1zyc5UotI/AAAAAAAAAIM/C6ES2vpUyAM/s1600-h/2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SB1zyc5UotI/AAAAAAAAAIM/C6ES2vpUyAM/s320/2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196436855642694354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RANDOM: This morning as I was taking my shower ( where I get most of my random thoughts ), I was wondering " how did doughnuts get its name? ".. I mean, I understand the dough part, but most of the doughnuts nowadays have no nuts. Just to reward my curiosity, I googled it and thought I'd share my curiosity with you guys. Some said that it was because the dough was twisted into knots, hence "dough-knots". The other theory was more convincing though, saying that the nuts were placed in the middle of the dough so that it would cook evenly. Interesting uh how people tend to come up with their own weird theories just to gain recognition.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-8889504020218269157?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8889504020218269157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=8889504020218269157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/8889504020218269157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/8889504020218269157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/04/what-do-you-think.html' title='What Do You Think?'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SB1zys5UovI/AAAAAAAAAIc/5dIG0CVdCpg/s72-c/3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-1465450890379240878</id><published>2008-04-22T23:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T09:05:28.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Those Imperfections...</title><content type='html'>Haven’t you ever talked bad about someone only to realise that you too have done that same mistake or possess the same bad habit? It has always been quite puzzling and bizarre how people are blinded by the general judgements of someone that they have failed to even spare second thoughts for him/her. It may even be right to regard the general society of people as having the ‘herd’ mentality because of how much importance we place in what other people do instead of let’s say setting a trend ourselves. What I probably meant when I used the word ‘herd’ was that people think in terms of the society that they are in, lacking the much needed individuality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SA7VkM5UopI/AAAAAAAAAHs/ke3zfZlVpJs/s1600-h/2191104075_539ed496d8_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SA7VkM5UopI/AAAAAAAAAHs/ke3zfZlVpJs/s320/2191104075_539ed496d8_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192322238318420626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Notice how people have always used either ‘half full’ or ‘half empty’ to describe, let’s say a glass of milk. Humans, as we are subjective and opinionated, always like to see things the way we want it to be instead of taking the effort and coming up with the right answers to the questions in life. It’s like trying to imagine something while you’re blindfolded or learning without understanding, you just can’t be bothered taking those extra steps to reach what’s within your grasps.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SA7WUc5UoqI/AAAAAAAAAH0/ZnBjhQsQfmc/s1600-h/steps.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SA7WUc5UoqI/AAAAAAAAAH0/ZnBjhQsQfmc/s320/steps.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192323067247108770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Don’t you remember that one time when you asked yourself “ What would have happened if I did this? ‘’. Did you regret your decision because you were too afraid to make that step forward? I too, looked back on my decisions a couple of times, trying hard to fill those voids left by the ‘what if’s hoping with a flick of my non-existent magic wand I could just turn back time. Would I have done things differently? Yes. Can I do anything to turn those bad decisions into what was desired before? No.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SA7Yn85UosI/AAAAAAAAAIE/aP6P0HBpXtI/s1600-h/32624975_ab679b6a9b_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SA7Yn85UosI/AAAAAAAAAIE/aP6P0HBpXtI/s320/32624975_ab679b6a9b_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192325601277813442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We, as flawed as we have always been, also tend to do or say things we never intended to do only to realise it a little too late that what we should have done was indeed the right thing to do. Why did you have to apologise when you weren’t the one making the mistake? Why did you have to say yes to that very favour even though you clearly didn’t want to do it? Really, it’s just within us to do something we never wanted to do in the first place. Well of course, from a different perspective, this can be a good thing, people who are merely creatures of habit doing something different for a change. As the old saying goes, old habits die hard.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;What I’m getting to is the point that we, as humans, will never be perfect, and will always have these flaws within us. It’s only a matter of whether we show what’s really in our nature or try really hard to find a cure to these flaws hoping it might be within our grasps someday.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SA7XYM5UorI/AAAAAAAAAH8/5AYTFEPMTys/s1600-h/300596179_01446672e6_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SA7XYM5UorI/AAAAAAAAAH8/5AYTFEPMTys/s320/300596179_01446672e6_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192324231183246002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;The question is “Did you do something out of the ordinary today?”.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-1465450890379240878?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/1465450890379240878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=1465450890379240878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/1465450890379240878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/1465450890379240878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/04/those-imperfections.html' title='Those Imperfections...'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SA7VkM5UopI/AAAAAAAAAHs/ke3zfZlVpJs/s72-c/2191104075_539ed496d8_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-2162070556453319116</id><published>2008-04-21T03:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T18:41:48.907-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Virginity? What Virginity?</title><content type='html'>Hey guys,&lt;br /&gt;Was the title eye-catching enough? :) Lol. Some of you might be thinking what I'll be going on to talk about.. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you but this post has absolutely nothing to do with my first time having sex or anything of that sort. And even if i did ( have sex ), I wouldn't be announcing it on my blog right? Anyway, back to the reason why I'm writing this post.. Imagine yourself having a day off from university, school or work, what would you do? Would you take a stroll in the park, visit the nearest shopping mall or just laze in bed the whole day reading the newspapers? This is what I did. Let's add a bit of suspense and mystery.. Slowly scroll down and in that time guess what Jeremy would have done.. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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;wait for it...&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;GETTING CLOSE!&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 onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SAxzgj7U4GI/AAAAAAAAAHc/tSR6Gm_Od6U/s1600-h/DSC00211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SAxzgj7U4GI/AAAAAAAAAHc/tSR6Gm_Od6U/s320/DSC00211.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191651473688420450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;TA-DAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Haha yes, Jeremy baked brownies. I'm sure some of you might go " How gay is that? " or " OMG Jeremy baked! " It should be either one of those responses :) The brownies turned out alright.. Edible to say the least. I don't wanna judge what I baked coz it'll be a biased judgement. Special thanks goes out to Rachel who gave me her recipe for the orgasmic brownies that she makes. So this is what I did on a Monday afternoon, what did you do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SAx0_j7U4HI/AAAAAAAAAHk/33dKE3bwdo0/s1600-h/DSC00208.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SAx0_j7U4HI/AAAAAAAAAHk/33dKE3bwdo0/s320/DSC00208.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191653105775992946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There goes my baking virginity :P&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/2164106666720577692-2162070556453319116?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/2162070556453319116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=2162070556453319116' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/2162070556453319116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/2162070556453319116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/04/virginity-what-virginity.html' title='Virginity? What Virginity?'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SAxzgj7U4GI/AAAAAAAAAHc/tSR6Gm_Od6U/s72-c/DSC00211.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-7719987779671525111</id><published>2008-04-13T23:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T05:52:51.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons Why Chelsea,Arsenal and Liverpool Can't Win the EPL</title><content type='html'>As you can see, the team that's missing from the title of my post is none other than Manchester United. Oh yes, the team that's at the top of the EPL table and in the semi-finals of the Champions League. Or would you rather support the trophyless Arsenal, one-tournament-team Liverpool or the money dependant Chelsea? Seriously, Manchester United is at the top of their game and I can see nothing going wrong for them this season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to the title of my post. 10 Reasons EACH Why Chelsea,Arsenal and Liverpool Can't Win the EPL. Let's take a look at what's stopping Chelsea from winning the EPL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chelsea - Reason No.1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SAMUU-X0EpI/AAAAAAAAAHM/wR7v5VheRZQ/s1600-h/avram-grant.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SAMUU-X0EpI/AAAAAAAAAHM/wR7v5VheRZQ/s320/avram-grant.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189013546233762450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    You will always fail as a manager to motivate your team if you have a face like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Reason No. 2&lt;br /&gt;Frank Lampard can and will only score deflected goals. If you didn't notice, most of the 'important' goals he has scored would have either hit a defender or his own teammate before it goes into the back of the net. All hail the King of Deflected Goals!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Reason No. 3&lt;br /&gt;When MOST of your players are paid such obscenely high wages, they tend to be less commited to the team preferring to just sit their ass on the bench and STILL earn lots of money. That's what you get when you buy players like Shevchenko and Ballack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason No. 4&lt;br /&gt;Of all the left-backs to buy, they bought an Arsenal player. Having an ex-Arsenal player in your defensive line would mean him conceding goals whenever possible giving Arsenal a better chance to win the league. That's why you don't see Manchester United buying Chelsea and Arsenal players, it's just stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason No. 5&lt;br /&gt;How can you perform well when the owner, someone linked to the Russian Mafia, is watching every game? Can you imagine the pressure? I think he tells them something like " If you don't score today, i will KILL you. " I won't be surprised if tomorrow's headlines read " Drogba and Lampard Gunned Down ".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;To start off on the reasons why Arsenal wouldn't, woops i mean CAN'T win the title this season, I read a joke on the internet the other day and thought I'd share it with you guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What do Arsenal fans do after Arsenal wins the Champions League?&lt;br /&gt;A: They put away their playstations.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the topic...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arsenal - Reason No. 1&lt;br /&gt;Arsenal, like Chelsea bought a defender from the rival team ( refer to Chelsea-Reason 4 ), thus making them more vulnerable to conceding goals. William Gallas, the hero for Manchester United last night, conceded a penalty for hand ball therefore handing the title to United on a silver platter. Like I said, it's just not right to buy players from your rivals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason No. 2&lt;br /&gt;Many people have said that selling Thierry Henry was the reason behind Arsenal's success this season. But what success is there when there's no silverware in their cabinet? Seriously, you don't increase your chances of winning by selling one of the best strikers in the world. I'm sure United learnt from their mistake when they sold Nistelrooy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason No. 3&lt;br /&gt;Arsenal's goalkeepers are like housewives comparing their diamond rings, the 2 of them cannot stop dissing one another for their own benefits. Jens Lehmann thinks he's the better goalkeeper because he plays for Germany whereas Almunia's not happy with his No.2 position in Arsenal's team. How can you be playing for the same team and not see eye to eye?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for Liverpool, I don't think I can come up with many reasons why they can't win the EPL. They've got quality players in Torres, Carragher and Gerrard. What I'm sure everyone notices is that they only try to win one competition every season, and it's not the EPL. All they play for every season in the EPL is the 4th place so they can qualify for their one-and-only Champions League competition and place all their focus on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it.. What I'm hoping now is Manchester United will win the EPL at Stamford Bridge and rub it into Abramovich's Cash Rich Chelsea's face. GO UNITED! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SANTEeX0EqI/AAAAAAAAAHU/zx39_nlgu00/s1600-h/UKW_SM_LRG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SANTEeX0EqI/AAAAAAAAAHU/zx39_nlgu00/s320/UKW_SM_LRG.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189082531998470818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;An interesting banner I saw during a match.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/2164106666720577692-7719987779671525111?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7719987779671525111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=7719987779671525111' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/7719987779671525111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/7719987779671525111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/04/10-reasons-each-why-chelseaarsenal-and.html' title='Reasons Why Chelsea,Arsenal and Liverpool Can&apos;t Win the EPL'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/SAMUU-X0EpI/AAAAAAAAAHM/wR7v5VheRZQ/s72-c/avram-grant.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-416491355460364437</id><published>2008-04-13T00:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T00:51:28.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Malaysian Politics</title><content type='html'>One of the reasons why I like reading news on Malaysian Politics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was Mahathir's response to questions on Abdullah Badawi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On how Abdullah should listen to the grassroots&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He should go down to the ground and ask our supporters: “What is wrong with me? I’m trying to improve. If you don’t like my son-in-law, then I’ll find a new one”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On whether he regrets appointing Abdullah as his successor&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point of time, I regret. When I appointed him. He was ‘Mr Clean’. He bathes 15 times a day. At the time I didn’t know that he would do all these things [...] I didn’t know that when I ‘hand over’, it became his. Umno now belongs to him and his family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moral of the story :  Choose the right person to be your son-in-law. He may be the reason why everyone hates you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-416491355460364437?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/416491355460364437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=416491355460364437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/416491355460364437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/416491355460364437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/04/malaysian-politics.html' title='Malaysian Politics'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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-2164106666720577692.post-7312504637729749785</id><published>2008-04-08T21:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T22:35:31.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday!</title><content type='html'>Here I am wishing my 3 great friends a very happy birthday. They're probably the few people that have gone through the thick and thin of wonderful friendships and have stuck by me the past few years. I must admit that you'll only know who your real friends until things in yours and their lives change but your relationship with them remains the same or gets better. And of course, that term 'best friend' which I used so often during my primary school years (things like "you are not my best friend anymore, i don't friend you") now seems rather vague coz it's like putting a specific friend on a much higher level than the rest of your good friends. It's probably right to say that I'm lucky enough to have a 'best group of friends' to hang out with and am probably a step closer to a few.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, before I drift further apart from the main reason why I'm writing this post, I'd like to wish you, Mr Ngeow Jian Mao a happy birthday. I know it's a bit late seeing that April Fool's/Your Birthday was a week ago, but as cliché as it sounds, it's the thought that counts right. : )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xRNbPcrRI/AAAAAAAAAF8/JUgP4QLdcTI/s1600-h/poker+hand+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xRNbPcrRI/AAAAAAAAAF8/JUgP4QLdcTI/s320/poker+hand+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187110161916669202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Always doing more thinking than he should, therefore, taking the most time to decide on whether to play his 'poker hand'.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xRNLPcrPI/AAAAAAAAAFs/kiiV7UCEmRg/s1600-h/back+home+066+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xRNLPcrPI/AAAAAAAAAFs/kiiV7UCEmRg/s320/back+home+066+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187110157621701874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;His thinking face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xRNrPcrSI/AAAAAAAAAGE/IWEhV49L8O0/s1600-h/colin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xRNrPcrSI/AAAAAAAAAGE/IWEhV49L8O0/s320/colin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187110166211636514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Never fails to laugh his ass off whenever possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xRNbPcrQI/AAAAAAAAAF0/G4nZUW1xNi4/s1600-h/back+home+137+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xRNbPcrQI/AAAAAAAAAF0/G4nZUW1xNi4/s320/back+home+137+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187110161916669186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;His favourite line: “ My hair looks good (‘in this picture’ or ‘today’) lah.&lt;br /&gt;(Does it look good in this picture?) Lol.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xSF7PcrTI/AAAAAAAAAGM/oIHlJGTRubY/s1600-h/n591647638_384916_6251.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xSF7PcrTI/AAAAAAAAAGM/oIHlJGTRubY/s320/n591647638_384916_6251.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187111132579278130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;As gay as it sounds, we have shared quite a fair bit together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;As he'd put it, a brother from a different mother.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Next up, Mr Teh Yu Jing, my VERY VERY good brother. Or so he claims to be. I have to say, that although we sometimes have really conflicting opinions, most of the time we’ll end up ‘cocking’(nonsensically speaking) our way out of the topic.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xTn7PcrZI/AAAAAAAAAG8/jbQIiJuI33I/s1600-h/back+home+058+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xTn7PcrZI/AAAAAAAAAG8/jbQIiJuI33I/s320/back+home+058+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187112816206458258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Will probably scare you with his serious face FIRST.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xTnrPcrYI/AAAAAAAAAG0/3KS-VXmMlXA/s1600-h/back+home+026+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xTnrPcrYI/AAAAAAAAAG0/3KS-VXmMlXA/s320/back+home+026+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187112811911490946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;THEN surprise you by being really friendly.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xTnrPcrXI/AAAAAAAAAGs/oCqOR8k8QwI/s1600-h/back+home+006+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xTnrPcrXI/AAAAAAAAAGs/oCqOR8k8QwI/s320/back+home+006+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187112811911490930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hopefully you’ll have a great birthday, minus the stress from your exams.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Saving the best for last ( muahahaha, don’t get offended Colin and Jing ), my one and only Special, Ms Rachel Gouk. I’ve always found it funny how Jing always thought you’re in the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;UK&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; just because your surname is Gouk. :P And Colin would probably say, “ Those 2 hokkiens “. I &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;remember how years ago I used to spell your name wrongly. Haha. We’ve gone quite a long way, special. Happy birthday to you, I’m sure you’ll have your late but enjoyable celebrations with your friends there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xSGLPcrUI/AAAAAAAAAGU/ihSoe3eL_SA/s1600-h/rachel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xSGLPcrUI/AAAAAAAAAGU/ihSoe3eL_SA/s320/rachel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187111136874245442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;What’s more trusting than allowing me to drive her car without a license?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xTKbPcrWI/AAAAAAAAAGk/Br6OndCrAQ0/s1600-h/16082007216+%5B%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xTKbPcrWI/AAAAAAAAAGk/Br6OndCrAQ0/s320/16082007216+%5B%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187112309400317282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;My ever-reliable companion for foos and all the late nights.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xUfrPcraI/AAAAAAAAAHE/xFXXP6m9fsQ/s1600-h/n591647638_293201_5122.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Here’s to the 3 of you! Cheers guys.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xUfrPcraI/AAAAAAAAAHE/xFXXP6m9fsQ/s1600-h/n591647638_293201_5122.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xUfrPcraI/AAAAAAAAAHE/xFXXP6m9fsQ/s320/n591647638_293201_5122.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187113773984165282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-7312504637729749785?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7312504637729749785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=7312504637729749785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/7312504637729749785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/7312504637729749785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/04/happy-birthday.html' title='Happy Birthday!'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_xRNbPcrRI/AAAAAAAAAF8/JUgP4QLdcTI/s72-c/poker+hand+%5B%5D.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-7812000050209729097</id><published>2008-04-06T21:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T21:29:36.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Absence Makes The Heart Ache With Curiosity</title><content type='html'>I know I know, it's been such a long time since I last blogged. Lol, blame the lack of a home internet connection, delayed assignments and a darn good maroon 5/one republic concert. Well, it was mostly the absence of an internet connection i suppose. I'll probably do a picture-post soon on the concert :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_mi37PcrNI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Oa-jd6unObs/s1600-h/m5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_mi37PcrNI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Oa-jd6unObs/s320/m5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186355527572827346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm not sure when but I remember reading this really interesting article on aphrodisiacs that I've always wanted to do some research on it. Mind you, it's not for personal 'benefits' but to reward my never ending curiosity on . If you don't know what an aphrodisiac is, it's ''agent'' that increase &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;ur&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; sexual desire, or to put it simply, food that makes u horny. That's why I said 'personal benefits'. Lol. Please don't get me wrong here, it's JUST curiosity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, the first and most sought after aphrodisiac that I'm gonna talk about is C-H-O-C-O-L-A-T-E. Most people worship choc and can probably have it at any time of the day. What was interesting is that chocolate's ingredients are only meant to make u happy and more mood-lifting.. and maybe just MAYBE u'll have fictitious feelings of 'love' after lots of it but definitely does not make u ahemhornyahem.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_miLbPcrKI/AAAAAAAAAFE/d-gLj22GwDk/s1600-h/68153223_0fa66625ae_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_miLbPcrKI/AAAAAAAAAFE/d-gLj22GwDk/s320/68153223_0fa66625ae_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186354763068648610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next on the list is one that comes in a shell, is highly priced but gooey and people seem to have more than they can eat in buffets and feel sick after. Yes, oysters, if u guessed it correctly. Something I swear was new to me was that oysters were known as aphrodisiacs mainly because of its shape that "somewhat resemble the female sex organ"(quoted from a website). Who would've known that the shape of the food you eat can make u horny too.. Lol. Interesting uh?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_miQ7PcrMI/AAAAAAAAAFU/c9Zu1DWDeKQ/s1600-h/398300667_a8c6c7d7de_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_miQ7PcrMI/AAAAAAAAAFU/c9Zu1DWDeKQ/s320/398300667_a8c6c7d7de_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186354857557929154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well since I'm already at "shaped" aphrodisiacs, what can be better than a male-sex-organ-resembling-aphrodisiac after a female-sex-organ-resembling-aphrodisiac? :) The BANANA. After reading the article on oysters, I was quite sure bananas would fall under the same category because of its shape. But I've never heard of cucumbers, carrots and eggplant as being aphrodisiacs. And so i went google-ing "bananas as aphrosdisiacs" and found out that it was only partly because of its shape but also because they contain lots of potassium and vitamin Bs for sex-hormones production. So i guess the phrase 'going bananas' can also mean 'getting horny'.. lol.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_miQ7PcrLI/AAAAAAAAAFM/GS9v0d_Dqfo/s1600-h/banana.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_miQ7PcrLI/AAAAAAAAAFM/GS9v0d_Dqfo/s320/banana.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186354857557929138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope any of these descriptions or explanations weren't too offensive for any of my readers.. and u've also managed to reward some of &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;ur&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; curiosities on what i've talked about. Now i just have to hope i don't have to wait that long to get my next post up. Till next time!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-7812000050209729097?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/7812000050209729097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=7812000050209729097' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/7812000050209729097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/7812000050209729097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/04/absence-makes-heart-ache-with-curiosity.html' title='Absence Makes The Heart Ache With Curiosity'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R_mi37PcrNI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Oa-jd6unObs/s72-c/m5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-687333218399149495</id><published>2008-03-19T04:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T05:47:27.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Words.</title><content type='html'>I'm sure many of you have heard the quote 'variety is the spice of life'. What I'm sure many people have noticed is the way people, including me, use the same words so often to express his/her feelings that it's all becoming a boring routine. I mean, what words can you come up with to replace words like hello and goodbye?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, there's always the occasional replacements such as " ni hao?  , hola! and tata " but at the end of the day, hellos and goodbyes have become such universal words that a person doesn't have to know any English to use those words. Don't you think they should just stick to their mother tongue when greeting someone? Rather than people having the perception that you can speak English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R-EK6QGRZeI/AAAAAAAAAEs/RrJJBVlQI1I/s1600-h/2_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R-EK6QGRZeI/AAAAAAAAAEs/RrJJBVlQI1I/s320/2_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179433042322744802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And what might be the most cliched 3 words put together that can mean anything from " thanks for the favour " and " you are my everything "... The " I Love You " phrase.. Haven't people woken up to the fact that they continuously use those 3 'magical' words on a daily basis without considering the true meaning of it? Why can't you just say " That was nice of you to do that for me " or " I think Orlando Bloom is really good-looking " instead of " Thanks lah, I love you " and " I LOVE YOU ORLANDO BLOOM "?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, on a random note, the other day I was watching Grey's Anatomy and I thought I'd share this with you guys. There was a scene where this crippled patient was lying on the bed and was unable to talk.He had his family by his side and the doctor had told his family that he would blink once for a yes and twice for a no. Just before he was pushed into surgery, as his wife was talking to him, he blinked his eyes three times. His wife, confused, then asked the doctor what three blinks meant and he had no clue what it was since he only taught him yes and no. All of a sudden, his wife started crying and realised that he was trying to say " I love you " with those 3 blinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R-ELKQGRZgI/AAAAAAAAAE8/7wRVEgX1CZQ/s1600-h/1b_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R-ELKQGRZgI/AAAAAAAAAE8/7wRVEgX1CZQ/s320/1b_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179433317200651778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And that's how I think " I love you " should be used. Or do you think it should be used on every occasion possible?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-687333218399149495?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/687333218399149495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=687333218399149495' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/687333218399149495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/687333218399149495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/03/words.html' title='Words.'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R-EK6QGRZeI/AAAAAAAAAEs/RrJJBVlQI1I/s72-c/2_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-5743726171132398320</id><published>2008-03-13T01:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T08:48:23.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blasphemy</title><content type='html'>Just this morning when I was keeping myself updated on Malaysian news, I came across an article that made me go " WTF " the moment I saw it. It read " Meet Azali - the 21A student ".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing that came to my mind was how in God's name did he get 21As. That's like 3 times the number of As that I got. What does it actually mean to him to take 10 more subjects than the average student that takes SPM? Does it actually imply that he is 2 times smarter than the average student just because he took 21 subjects? Have Malaysian students got so 'kiasu' that they're sacrificing a great and enjoyable high school experience just to obtain those few extra As? I mean, I can understand if you take 2 or 3 extra subjects, but 10? That's just absurd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess some people have just forgotten what the purpose of these exams are. What they should do is to have a limit on the number of subjects that a student can take. Isn't it just plain stupid to take the subjects for the sake of taking it even if it means that you can have bragging rights and be labelled as the 'top scorer of Malaysia'. Don't they notice that some subjects they take have no relevance to the degree that they are planning to pursue in the near future? And why would you wanna take Biology, Chemistry and Physics AND General Science? Isn't General Science a simplified version of the 3 subjects? I say it's kiasuness at it's best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other thing that I noticed was that he mentioned in the interview was that he fasted during the examination period. Is that like his " secret to success "? And trust me, I've got nothing against religious practices, but is he saying that him fasting contributed to the number of As he got? If then, I wouldn't be surprised if some 2008 SPM students would take his 'advice' and starve themselves before the exams. No?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I personally have nothing against students challenging themselves but don't you think that the memories that you get in high school are definitely much much more valuable than if you got those extra As. Well what I'll say is " Congrats, what would have been 5 years of wonderful experiences just flew by and all you get is a certificate ". What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S : Kiasu = fear of losing.&lt;br /&gt;      WTF = self explanatory&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-5743726171132398320?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/5743726171132398320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=5743726171132398320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/5743726171132398320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/5743726171132398320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/03/blasphemy.html' title='Blasphemy'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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-2164106666720577692.post-473230853541879447</id><published>2008-03-11T23:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T02:57:19.695-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reminiscence Through Pictures</title><content type='html'>What's a better way to have a recap of the past year and relive those memories than browsing through the pictures that were taken...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9eDvwGRZOI/AAAAAAAAACs/zoj1bu7bWeI/s1600-h/23032007004+%5B%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 312px; height: 240px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9eDvwGRZOI/AAAAAAAAACs/zoj1bu7bWeI/s320/23032007004+%5B%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176751153073972450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Being the class rep was amusing to say the least..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9eFrgGRZRI/AAAAAAAAADE/aN90RHHi1Tc/s1600-h/23032007011+%5B%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9eFrgGRZRI/AAAAAAAAADE/aN90RHHi1Tc/s320/23032007011+%5B%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176753279082784018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Priceless lah Heng the look on ur face.. 2nd from right, MONKEY FACE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9eEvQGRZQI/AAAAAAAAAC8/btdLwlxO9Zo/s1600-h/15082007212+%5B%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9eEvQGRZQI/AAAAAAAAAC8/btdLwlxO9Zo/s320/15082007212+%5B%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176752243995665666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Who would've thought I'd be so lucky to have the President and Treasurer as my great friends? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9eGcQGRZSI/AAAAAAAAADM/im9UFgMiE2Y/s1600-h/15082007211+%5B%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9eGcQGRZSI/AAAAAAAAADM/im9UFgMiE2Y/s320/15082007211+%5B%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176754116601406754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's not the easiest of jobs, so they tend to get sad and sleepy. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9eHeAGRZTI/AAAAAAAAADU/W8miESQ0NKs/s1600-h/08052007100+%5B%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9eHeAGRZTI/AAAAAAAAADU/W8miESQ0NKs/s320/08052007100+%5B%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176755246177805618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My assistant working hard to please everyone's needs. Right Saf? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;College was no doubt too short a period of time to get to know the huge number of students that took S.A.M but I'm proud to say I knew enough people to make it a good year. I mean, I thought the SAM prom was so different from my high school one coz I barely knew a quarter of the people that went. What made it worse was that they were all dressed up making them even harder to recognise.. And I've always thought girls looked better without makeup :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9ePgQGRZVI/AAAAAAAAADk/DdZiEFXHBLM/s1600-h/n630876788_465894_6163.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9ePgQGRZVI/AAAAAAAAADk/DdZiEFXHBLM/s320/n630876788_465894_6163.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176764080925533522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I'll never forget my first day of orientation, when I was coincidentally placed in the same class as that bugger, what's his name? Heng Yew.. Dude, I think it's quite right to say that we barely knew each other at the start of the year.. But as gay as it sounds, u were a great companion lah brother. Don't you think it's so much easier adapting to a new place with someone who knows u well close by?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9eInAGRZUI/AAAAAAAAADc/glEfM8JpJf8/s1600-h/29032007050+%5B%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9eInAGRZUI/AAAAAAAAADc/glEfM8JpJf8/s320/29032007050+%5B%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176756500308256066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Good picture? I think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;There were also occassions where I was experiencing things for the first time. Mind you, I'm not talking about having sex. -.- I don't remember who came up with the idea of bringing all kinds of funny ingredients so we could have our so-called ''Bread Day''. We had like lots of Gardenia bread, chocolate syrup, bananas and peanut butter. Lol I guess we all just didn't want to have our usual lunch at Asia Cafe. Here are a few pictures...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9ehawGRZYI/AAAAAAAAAD8/OThhp0j88xM/s1600-h/n645721354_961196_73792.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9ehawGRZYI/AAAAAAAAAD8/OThhp0j88xM/s320/n645721354_961196_73792.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176783777645553026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9ehkQGRZZI/AAAAAAAAAEE/eTODvJ_K89g/s1600-h/13042007067+%5B%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9ehkQGRZZI/AAAAAAAAAEE/eTODvJ_K89g/s320/13042007067+%5B%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176783940854310290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was what my bread looked like...MmmMMMmmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;But of course, if you have a big appetite and bread just isn't enough, this is what you get caught doing..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9eiVAGRZaI/AAAAAAAAAEM/ywil1Ek0710/s1600-h/18072007179+%5B%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9eiVAGRZaI/AAAAAAAAAEM/ywil1Ek0710/s320/18072007179+%5B%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176784778372933026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Please don't get angry with me, Fimy.. haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for Claire, this is a picture specially put up for you..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9ekSAGRZbI/AAAAAAAAAEU/7w9_9ViG2uQ/s1600-h/22102007287+%5B%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9ekSAGRZbI/AAAAAAAAAEU/7w9_9ViG2uQ/s320/22102007287+%5B%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176786925856581042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That goes well with " Jerry, how do u spell oops? " :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thanks for the great year guys.. I hope u had a good one too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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/2164106666720577692-473230853541879447?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/473230853541879447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=473230853541879447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/473230853541879447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/473230853541879447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/03/reminiscence-through-pictures.html' title='Reminiscence Through Pictures'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9eDvwGRZOI/AAAAAAAAACs/zoj1bu7bWeI/s72-c/23032007004+%5B%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-8229207447265716240</id><published>2008-03-09T23:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T01:05:22.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Ever Tag</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9TrnwGRZNI/AAAAAAAAACk/RlMe0dhwpZo/s1600-h/maroon_5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9TrnwGRZNI/AAAAAAAAACk/RlMe0dhwpZo/s320/maroon_5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176020939914175698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;1. Choose a band / artist and answer ONLY in titles of their songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Maroon 5  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;2. Are you male or female?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Makes Me Wonder ( xD hahaha )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;3. Describe yourself:&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ragdoll&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. How do some people feel about you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Infatuation ( i know it sounds like I'm full of myself, but I couldn't find a better song title )   =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. How do you feel about yourself:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Figure It Out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Ex boyfriends/girlfriends:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;She Will Be Loved&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Current boyfriend/girlfriend/crush:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;If You Only Knew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Describe where you want to be:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My Ocean Blue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Describe where you live:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Harder to Breathe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Describe how you live:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tangled&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. What would you ask for if you had just one wish?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Secret&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Share a few words of Wisdom:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nothing Lasts Forever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Any general advice:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Take What You Want&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Share a favorite pickup line:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Won't Go Home Without You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. And if that one doesn't work:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Through With You ( I mean, if my favourite pick-up line doesn't work, lol I'm through :P )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. What secondary school do/did you attend:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nothing Lasts Forever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Pepsi or coke:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Shiver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Any pets?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Woman ( =.=" )&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Favorite food:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Kiwi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Do you drink?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Highway to Hell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Say goodbye:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sweetest Goodbye&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;I tag:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. ColiNgeow&lt;br /&gt;2. Nurul&lt;br /&gt;3. Jings&lt;br /&gt;4. Rachel&lt;br /&gt;5. Li Ying&lt;br /&gt;6. Ee Wing&lt;br /&gt;7. Rufimy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;P.S : I can't give reasons to all the answers but I'd be glad to try if you ask :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-8229207447265716240?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8229207447265716240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=8229207447265716240' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/8229207447265716240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/8229207447265716240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/03/first-ever-tag.html' title='First Ever Tag'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9TrnwGRZNI/AAAAAAAAACk/RlMe0dhwpZo/s72-c/maroon_5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-8254324827094004490</id><published>2008-03-09T03:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T04:07:20.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another random post.</title><content type='html'>Hey guys,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a quick update on my life for those whom I really care about but don't talk to often on MSN. :) Well, I've already had 2 weeks of lectures and a week of tutorials, been settling in well. Although those who know me would know that I'm really shy when it comes to meeting new people. I've also been playing lots of football lately, which explains the absence of new posts. Hope you guys are doing well wherever you are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, on a lighter note, I actually have this really interesting lecturer teaching me Microeconomics and he uses a lot of real-life situations that happens to almost everyone on a daily basis. Just the other day, he gave us this scenario and asked us what we would do when faced with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scenario 1: At a local shopping mall, you can buy a shirt that you want for $40. Just before buying it, a friend tells you that you can buy the same shirt for $20 at another shopping centre 20 minutes away. Where would you buy the shirt?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scenario 2: At a local car yard, you can buy a new car for $20000. Just before buying it, a friend tells you that you can buy the same car for $19980 at another car yard that's 20 minutes away. Where would you buy the car?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think about it for a minute for two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most common answer (which also happens to be my answer) would be that you would buy the shirt at the other shopping centre 20 minutes away but buy the new car at a local car yard. Of course, the obvious explanation would be that you save 50% when u buy the shirt for $20 but only 0.1% for the car. Don't you notice that people tend to just compare the percentages and not the absolute dollar value of how much they're saving? Whether it's 0.1% or 50%, it's still 20 dollars of your money that you are saving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9PD2wGRZMI/AAAAAAAAACc/31EBi4NOyPA/s1600-h/399129721_ea005f2950_m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9PD2wGRZMI/AAAAAAAAACc/31EBi4NOyPA/s320/399129721_ea005f2950_m.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175695742170391746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That's how people get attracted to all those huge 50% DISCOUNT posters and advertisements but fail to see that it's merely just a percentage and not the dollar value. What I'm trying to say is don't be fooled by those marketing gimmicks! It's just there to create a delusion that you're saving lots of money. Haha, so people ( especially females :P ), think twice before u convince yourself that you're saving that big big percentage of money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btw, here's the picture, wing. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9PDegGRZLI/AAAAAAAAACU/uOABO8oWHv0/s1600-h/aa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9PDegGRZLI/AAAAAAAAACU/uOABO8oWHv0/s320/aa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175695325558564018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-8254324827094004490?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8254324827094004490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=8254324827094004490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/8254324827094004490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/8254324827094004490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/03/another-random-post.html' title='Another random post.'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R9PD2wGRZMI/AAAAAAAAACc/31EBi4NOyPA/s72-c/399129721_ea005f2950_m.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-8679751808912408943</id><published>2008-02-28T19:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T04:46:36.515-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The missing ingredient of my blog..</title><content type='html'>Being new at blogging, I never really knew what 'ingredients' would make or define a good blog. A good friend of mine pointed out that a blog would not really be a blog if it didn't have any pictures. I myself have had good laughs reading posts with pictures and captions and instantly knew that my post had to be of Isabelle, my baby sister because those are the ones that never fail to make me laugh/put a smile on my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f1o7Y3pUI/AAAAAAAAABA/YRQd6lWbDvk/s1600-h/long+sleeve+shirt.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f1o7Y3pUI/AAAAAAAAABA/YRQd6lWbDvk/s320/long+sleeve+shirt.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172372780543878466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Who says a shirt can't be a headscarf?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f5zrY3pWI/AAAAAAAAABQ/N5yoPKTwbXM/s1600-h/kung+fu.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f5zrY3pWI/AAAAAAAAABQ/N5yoPKTwbXM/s320/kung+fu.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172377363273983330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Her invention of the 2-Palms-Kungfu-Technique&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f6WrY3pYI/AAAAAAAAABg/9KYTmM-rwHo/s1600-h/P9090381+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f6WrY3pYI/AAAAAAAAABg/9KYTmM-rwHo/s320/P9090381+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172377964569404802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is what happens when you let your older brother feed u ice-cream. Muahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f6p7Y3pZI/AAAAAAAAABo/Z8YD5H-OY2Q/s1600-h/PA150131+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f6p7Y3pZI/AAAAAAAAABo/Z8YD5H-OY2Q/s320/PA150131+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172378295281886610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;WHY IS MY BARBIE HELD TOGETHER BY A SATAY STICK?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f7TLY3paI/AAAAAAAAABw/8zeI9IGIjW8/s1600-h/flying+pony+tail.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f7TLY3paI/AAAAAAAAABw/8zeI9IGIjW8/s320/flying+pony+tail.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172379003951490466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Flying Ponytail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f78bY3pbI/AAAAAAAAAB4/-Cu-7seXhwM/s1600-h/P1010113+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f78bY3pbI/AAAAAAAAAB4/-Cu-7seXhwM/s320/P1010113+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172379712621094322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Haha, this pose was so one-of-a-kind I couldn't figure out a name for it. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f8frY3pcI/AAAAAAAAACA/tekPkUnK1is/s1600-h/P1010117+%5B%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f8frY3pcI/AAAAAAAAACA/tekPkUnK1is/s320/P1010117+%5B%5D.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172380318211483074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Isabelle after 3 cans of beer. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Hope you guys enjoyed it. :) Btw, Isabelle's 6 this year but I dont know how long it'll take for me to face reality and stop calling her my 'baby' sister. Let's just hope she doesn't grow up too fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f-lLY3pdI/AAAAAAAAACI/8WjMVyosq4w/s1600-h/630876788_1204289054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f-lLY3pdI/AAAAAAAAACI/8WjMVyosq4w/s320/630876788_1204289054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172382611724019154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-8679751808912408943?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/8679751808912408943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=8679751808912408943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/8679751808912408943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/8679751808912408943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/02/missing-ingredient-of-my-blog.html' title='The missing ingredient of my blog..'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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://bp3.blogger.com/_HUpBKdw6O3s/R8f1o7Y3pUI/AAAAAAAAABA/YRQd6lWbDvk/s72-c/long+sleeve+shirt.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-4386922807367858284</id><published>2008-02-27T05:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T06:38:33.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What would you do...</title><content type='html'>Imagine this..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are standing at the entrance of a hall which is going to be filled with let's say 300+ strangers and they are all here to attend a 3 hour lecture. Half the seats are already taken and you walk right in trying to look for familiar faces knowing the chances of you finding one is close to zilch. What do you do when you fail to find a familiar face? Well, I saw 2 choices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, guys being guys, the first thing I tried to do was to look for a good-looking girl or what my friends and i call a 'chun chick'.. Lol I don't know if that would be the best of ideas because it would mean that I'd be paying more attention to her than what I came for, the lecture. I dropped that silly idea of mine and tried thinking of a better one. ( but I think i regretted that decision a little ) haha.. anyway, moving on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second idea that came out of this tiny little thing I call a brain was to look for a friendly face..someone that would strike conversations and crack jokes even when he/she isn't encouraged. I mean, why not make a new friend and try to make the 2 hours feel shorter right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The big problem was, how do I decide if a person has an approachable or anti-social face? The person that I saw smiling at himself may have either been approachable or having mental images of a lunatic.. The girl who looked like she needed someone to put her smile on her face may have been the friendliest of people but had a natural n-shaped mouth. something like that --&gt; :( Would it be fair to just judge them based on their looks?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How was I gonna choose who to be stuck with for the next 2 hours? Well, I decided to take a seat at random and spent the 2 hours thinking what I would do differently the next time I faced the same situation. What would you have done?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2164106666720577692-4386922807367858284?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4386922807367858284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=4386922807367858284' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/4386922807367858284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/4386922807367858284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/02/what-would-you-do.html' title='What would you do...'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2164106666720577692.post-4103467510110531359</id><published>2008-02-26T02:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T05:37:52.364-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The end of my blogging virginity..</title><content type='html'>Had a hard time thinking of the title to my first blog post which could have easily been " My First Blog Post " but i ended up with the above..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To start off, I would like to confess that I actually have a great liking for a number of blogs that never fail to entertain or enlighten me but never saw myself starting one.. But here i am.. ending that blogging virginity of mine..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if this is the best idea but I'd like to blog about a 'phenomenon' which I've heard many weird descriptions of. Here are the ones that sounded particularly interesting..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"It's like someone scraping your insides with a metal spoon"&lt;br /&gt;"If u haven't felt it, u don't know the real spelling of  P-A-I-N"&lt;br /&gt;"Feels like a thousand elephants rushing through your insides"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;That's right, I'm sure if you're a girl, you would have figured out that I am talking about the menstrual pain/cramps that you girls go through once every month.. I don't know why but I came up with a theory which explains why guys don't get menstrual pain..Lol. of course this theory doesn't have anything to do with the difference in human anatomy between the two sexes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What some people do not see is that women are in fact compensated for their menstrual pains with the privileges that they get from guys..Doesn't "let me carry your books/open the door/buy ur dinner for you" sound like a i-hear-it-everyday thing for the girls? Maybe it being an i-hear-it-everyday thing is a bit of an exaggeration  but I hope you get what i mean there..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the reason why us guys don't go through that torturous process that girls go through, we don't get that privileges.. Lol hopefully all this makes sense and I hope that girls would ackowledge this and bear in mind that they are getting something nice in return for all that pain..haha not that i know if it's worth since I haven't been through it.. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's always a joy trying something new and I hope the end of this 'virginity' would be the start of more interesting posts to come.. Till then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/2164106666720577692-4103467510110531359?l=mishmashofwords.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/feeds/4103467510110531359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2164106666720577692&amp;postID=4103467510110531359' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/4103467510110531359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2164106666720577692/posts/default/4103467510110531359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mishmashofwords.blogspot.com/2008/02/end-of-my-blogging-virginity.html' title='The end of my blogging virginity..'/><author><name>Jeremy Toh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16241423208425699515</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>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
