While surfing aimlessly, enjoying... *AHEM* i mean, TOLERATING, my sick leave, i came to a sudden realization.
I was surfing the web, with 4 Mozilla Firefox windows open.
1st Window, Tab 1: Monster Quest Wikipedia page
1st Window, Tab 2: Youtube - Monster Quest - Gigantic Killer Fish
1st Window, Tab 3: Wikipedia - Catfish
1st Window, Tab 4: Facebook
1st Window, Tab 5: Youtube - Eva Cassidy - "Fields of Gold"
1st Window, Tab 6: Adobe Professional Pro Extended Serial Crack - piratebay.org
1st Window, Tab 7: Youtube - Search Results for "Monster Quest Snakes"
2nd Window, Tab 1: OneManga.com
2nd Window, Tab 2: OneManga.com - Naruto chapter 457
2nd Window, Tab 3: OneManga.com - Bleach chapter 367
2nd Window, Tab 4: AnimeCrazy.net
2nd Window, Tab 5: Umineko No Naku Koro Ni - Episode 4
2nd Window, Tab 6: Wikipedia - Locked Room Mystery
3rd Window, Tab 1: ATP World Tour.com
3rd Window, Tab 2: Tennis.com - Instruction - Serve
3rd Window, Tab 3: Notebook Review - Graphic Cards Comparison
3rd Window, Tab 4: Alienware.com
3rd Window, Tab 5: StringForum.net
3rd Window, Tab 6: MacAfee - Downloads - Updates and SuperDats
4th Window, Tab 1: Aconex.com - Mail
4th Window, Tab 2: Aconex.com - Registered Documents
4th Window, Tab 3: Lotus Notes - WebMail
4th Window, Tab 4: Wikipedia - Watchmen (movie)
4th Window, Tab 5: Straits Times
4th Window, Tab 6: Stomp!
4th Window, Tab 7: FML
4th Window, Tab 8: Gunnerkrigg Court - a webcomic
Which brings me to a total of 27 tabs open on my FireFox browser. Trully maddening. I opened my task manager, and my firefox was taking up almost 400MB of RAM. LOL!! At least be thankful that i didnt have any porn open at that time, or they'd be up to 40 tabs open.
I remember there was once, back when i was still in maintenance, that i would have more than 30 Excel Spreadsheets open at a time.
song of the day is STILL "Hoppipolla" by Sigur Ros...
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
holy sh*t!
Just realized that the number of posts i've made on this blog BEFORE this one - was a grand total of 66!! Hell number in the making! Must post more! To break the cycle of evil!
Anyway, in case u dont know, im down with the flu. So yeah. Woke up one saturday morning and my nose was like the Niagara Falls. But of course, being the stubborn idiot that i am, i didnt care. Still went out with mom, and ate whatever i damn wanted. Along with the icecream and all.
Played on Sunday until my head was spinning and still i didnt stop.
Went to see a doctor on Monday and he gave me 3 days of medical leave - AWESOME. A true gift.
*AHEM* of course, i REAL reason i took m/c leave is bcos i dont wanna pass it on to my co-workers. OF COURSE. I mean, SERIOUSLY, i care abt them ok? Really.
But getting the mc was no easy thing. I was seriously PISSED with the doctor. He looked at me like i was a monday slacker, who just wanted to escape frm a day at the office. (ahem). When i asked him, "Is it the flu?"
He said, "Not sure, but i will put down as the flu ok?"
erm... okaaaaaaaay... "Do you think im medically cleared to work? Bcos my office is small and my colleagues and i work in close quarters."
He looks at me and says, "Well fine. I mean, YEAH, you dont want to infect them too, im sure. So... how many days do you want?"
Asks ME how many days I want? Hey cmon here, bitch, i PAID for your consultation, not for an MC. How dare you talk down to me like that? Like im some kid who wants cookies and you got to give them to me for free. Wat the fuck is this?
Anyway i asked for 2-3 days. (He rolled his eyes and said, "3 lo.")
Watever. Fuck that old piece of shit slimebag who's scrotum has probably shrivelled up and strangled his balls already.
Did some work from home (see? told you i was DEDICATED) and rested. Read up on some items and then left home to play some light tennis with Alan - im convinced that some light exercise helps to cure flu.
Played in hurricane conditions, which is always a challenge. But quit after abt 1hour 15min - it just started to rain and got toooooooooo windy.
Will try again on Wednesday perhaps. Tuesday is for the REAL resting and recuperation (and gym).
Mom says she might come out and visist - she'll bring Butterscotch Bread!!!
And a huge shout-out to peiwen! Thank you for organizing the Road Trip to Malacca!! You are an angel amongst the slacker guys. And thanks in advance to zs, who'll be driving us there. Actually i dont know if i should be thanking him so much as i should be warning him to DRIVE WITHIN THE SPEED LIMIT. Fucking speed demon will get us all killed one day. CHOY! Touch wood ah!
Suddenly in the mood for pancakes - but it's well past closing time. At least i have nutella.
song of the day is "Hoppipolla" by Sigur Ros, an icelandic band. Very nice tunes...
Anyway, in case u dont know, im down with the flu. So yeah. Woke up one saturday morning and my nose was like the Niagara Falls. But of course, being the stubborn idiot that i am, i didnt care. Still went out with mom, and ate whatever i damn wanted. Along with the icecream and all.
Played on Sunday until my head was spinning and still i didnt stop.
Went to see a doctor on Monday and he gave me 3 days of medical leave - AWESOME. A true gift.
*AHEM* of course, i REAL reason i took m/c leave is bcos i dont wanna pass it on to my co-workers. OF COURSE. I mean, SERIOUSLY, i care abt them ok? Really.
But getting the mc was no easy thing. I was seriously PISSED with the doctor. He looked at me like i was a monday slacker, who just wanted to escape frm a day at the office. (ahem). When i asked him, "Is it the flu?"
He said, "Not sure, but i will put down as the flu ok?"
erm... okaaaaaaaay... "Do you think im medically cleared to work? Bcos my office is small and my colleagues and i work in close quarters."
He looks at me and says, "Well fine. I mean, YEAH, you dont want to infect them too, im sure. So... how many days do you want?"
Asks ME how many days I want? Hey cmon here, bitch, i PAID for your consultation, not for an MC. How dare you talk down to me like that? Like im some kid who wants cookies and you got to give them to me for free. Wat the fuck is this?
Anyway i asked for 2-3 days. (He rolled his eyes and said, "3 lo.")
Watever. Fuck that old piece of shit slimebag who's scrotum has probably shrivelled up and strangled his balls already.
Did some work from home (see? told you i was DEDICATED) and rested. Read up on some items and then left home to play some light tennis with Alan - im convinced that some light exercise helps to cure flu.
Played in hurricane conditions, which is always a challenge. But quit after abt 1hour 15min - it just started to rain and got toooooooooo windy.
Will try again on Wednesday perhaps. Tuesday is for the REAL resting and recuperation (and gym).
Mom says she might come out and visist - she'll bring Butterscotch Bread!!!
And a huge shout-out to peiwen! Thank you for organizing the Road Trip to Malacca!! You are an angel amongst the slacker guys. And thanks in advance to zs, who'll be driving us there. Actually i dont know if i should be thanking him so much as i should be warning him to DRIVE WITHIN THE SPEED LIMIT. Fucking speed demon will get us all killed one day. CHOY! Touch wood ah!
Suddenly in the mood for pancakes - but it's well past closing time. At least i have nutella.
song of the day is "Hoppipolla" by Sigur Ros, an icelandic band. Very nice tunes...
Friday, July 17, 2009
wonderous adventures...
So its a Friday. And the first i gotta do is head down to site for a safety walk. This is an utterly retarded concept, since the site is NOT SAFE AT ALL, and yet we have to walk there.
Anyway, our young innocent Safety Officer Xiao Wei (yes, he's frm China), is led around by each of the site managers, as we take turns to show him the dangers and safety features of each of our places.
We head into South Podium, where the exhibition hall is. Dead boring. Nothing. No safety issues watsoever - the only thing in question was a worker on a boom lift reaching out to do some drilling. We asked around for the supervisor. And a kind worker told us. That worker up there IS the supervisor. FAILURE. Xiao Wei makes a note in his journal.
We head into North Podium, the Casino area, and pandemonium ensues. Rebars are blocking the egress!! Lifting zones are not properly barricaded!! Site is waterlogged!! Electrical cables hanging very low!! And why the FUCK is that guy break dancing with a drill!?!?!?!!
Nah, kidding, but u get the idea. Xiao Wei sprained his hand with all the scribbling and we had to retire early, but not before i shouted at some workers to keep working, bcos shouting at workers is wat managers do.
I dozed off thru the safety meeting later and was awoken by the boss slapping my knee. I woke up, needless to say, and began to complain about why he had wake up just as the stripper was getting to the good part.
After that, it was meetings. Meetings. And more meetings. There was a small crisis that occurred during one meeting when everyone was shouting and how the trunking and cabling in a level 1 room were COMPLETELY wrong and off the charts, until the punch-drunk drafter admitted that he had printted the wrong room. He bought lots of coffee for us later.
On a side note, my lil bro, Jasper, just experienced his loss of childhood innocence. Over the short span of a week, he lost almost everything he has owned - his prized pair of Oakley sunglasses, which he saved up for over 8 months and a brand new bike, which he bought from his bdae allowance. The bike was stolen from an mrt station. Fucking retarded station pple cant even get their fucking cctv to work.
Anyway, he was near tears at the end of the week and i cant say i didnt pity him. No matter how spoilt he is, when u lose *THAT* much, in *THAT* short of a time - it's gotta hurt.
Time to be a big bro.
Song of the day is "Broken" by Lifehouse, inspired by the movie The Time Traveller's Wife - the next tear-jerker of the season, IF u can understand it, that is.
Anyway, our young innocent Safety Officer Xiao Wei (yes, he's frm China), is led around by each of the site managers, as we take turns to show him the dangers and safety features of each of our places.
We head into South Podium, where the exhibition hall is. Dead boring. Nothing. No safety issues watsoever - the only thing in question was a worker on a boom lift reaching out to do some drilling. We asked around for the supervisor. And a kind worker told us. That worker up there IS the supervisor. FAILURE. Xiao Wei makes a note in his journal.
We head into North Podium, the Casino area, and pandemonium ensues. Rebars are blocking the egress!! Lifting zones are not properly barricaded!! Site is waterlogged!! Electrical cables hanging very low!! And why the FUCK is that guy break dancing with a drill!?!?!?!!
Nah, kidding, but u get the idea. Xiao Wei sprained his hand with all the scribbling and we had to retire early, but not before i shouted at some workers to keep working, bcos shouting at workers is wat managers do.
I dozed off thru the safety meeting later and was awoken by the boss slapping my knee. I woke up, needless to say, and began to complain about why he had wake up just as the stripper was getting to the good part.
After that, it was meetings. Meetings. And more meetings. There was a small crisis that occurred during one meeting when everyone was shouting and how the trunking and cabling in a level 1 room were COMPLETELY wrong and off the charts, until the punch-drunk drafter admitted that he had printted the wrong room. He bought lots of coffee for us later.
On a side note, my lil bro, Jasper, just experienced his loss of childhood innocence. Over the short span of a week, he lost almost everything he has owned - his prized pair of Oakley sunglasses, which he saved up for over 8 months and a brand new bike, which he bought from his bdae allowance. The bike was stolen from an mrt station. Fucking retarded station pple cant even get their fucking cctv to work.
Anyway, he was near tears at the end of the week and i cant say i didnt pity him. No matter how spoilt he is, when u lose *THAT* much, in *THAT* short of a time - it's gotta hurt.
Time to be a big bro.
Song of the day is "Broken" by Lifehouse, inspired by the movie The Time Traveller's Wife - the next tear-jerker of the season, IF u can understand it, that is.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
some guys just don't appreciate what they have...
When presented with a gift, accept it graciously and embrace it wholeheartedly.
Why on earth THIS happens is beside me.
Have a good day at work.
Why on earth THIS happens is beside me.
Have a good day at work.
Monday, July 13, 2009
*shakes head* AGAIN...
Have u heard about this?
A 15 yr old student has died after being kicked in the neck by his opponent during a taekwondo competition.
The opponent, the WINNER, showed up, all remorseful and told the mother "I am sorry." That in itself, makes him quite worthy of admiration, considering that he did EXACTLY as he was instructed.
The mother of deceased SCREAMED at the WINNER, saying "Why did u have to hit so hard? You should have been more careful!"
That madam, is why ur son LOST, and died. The mother of the WINNER just stood by and cried also. I would've expected her to SCREAM back, saying "Why did ur son have to be so NOOOOOOB??? He should have BLOCKED it rite?"
Truth be told, no one is at fault. The 15 yr old deceased got owned, OVER-owned, and died as a result of the BADASSERY of the winner.
I'm sure that after the funeral is over, the WINNER will be and should be presented with a double promotion.
A 15 yr old student has died after being kicked in the neck by his opponent during a taekwondo competition.
The opponent, the WINNER, showed up, all remorseful and told the mother "I am sorry." That in itself, makes him quite worthy of admiration, considering that he did EXACTLY as he was instructed.
The mother of deceased SCREAMED at the WINNER, saying "Why did u have to hit so hard? You should have been more careful!"
That madam, is why ur son LOST, and died. The mother of the WINNER just stood by and cried also. I would've expected her to SCREAM back, saying "Why did ur son have to be so NOOOOOOB??? He should have BLOCKED it rite?"
Truth be told, no one is at fault. The 15 yr old deceased got owned, OVER-owned, and died as a result of the BADASSERY of the winner.
I'm sure that after the funeral is over, the WINNER will be and should be presented with a double promotion.
as observed, monday sux
So im rushing now. Rushing to get to work.
Woke up a little later than usual, and due to the sickening avalanche effect, i ended being superbly behind time on EVERYTHING. Fuck Monday.
Managed to finally get out of the house at 820am. I live on the top floor - 20th storey. My clothes dry really fast, and when the wind is on, my clothes all become nearly horizontal. If u want to know wat it feels like to do ur laundry in hurricane katrina, come to my place - it has the full simulation - except the dying n*ggas... As Carlos Mensia once said, "Hurricane Katrina taught us a very important lesson, n*ggas can't swim."
Anyway, so im getting into the lift, and then it stops at L18. An eyebrow twitches. Okaaaaaaaaay, never mind, a little kid gets in. Small innocent, but DIABOLICALLY EVIL LITTLE PIECE OF ROTTEN FLESH. The little imp begins to hit buttons like a mad leprechaun. If i had my tennis racquet in hand, I might've instinctively smacked the little scaley menace.
But i didn't. He was with his mother, i wouldve needed TWO racquets in that case.
So what turned out to be a simple 2min lift ride, turned into wat seemed like 30min - im certain of it. Fucking cretin should be burned to a crisp and fed to walruses.
As if it wasnt any better, my standard bus service 124, took a turn for the worse, changing the bus from the old model of bus, to the new model - the R3T4RD3D version, with its trademark cinema seats and complete lack of seating for anyone. Engineering failure on the road.
And who says taxis arent worth it?
song of the day is "Fields of Gold" by Eva Cassidy...
Woke up a little later than usual, and due to the sickening avalanche effect, i ended being superbly behind time on EVERYTHING. Fuck Monday.
Managed to finally get out of the house at 820am. I live on the top floor - 20th storey. My clothes dry really fast, and when the wind is on, my clothes all become nearly horizontal. If u want to know wat it feels like to do ur laundry in hurricane katrina, come to my place - it has the full simulation - except the dying n*ggas... As Carlos Mensia once said, "Hurricane Katrina taught us a very important lesson, n*ggas can't swim."
Anyway, so im getting into the lift, and then it stops at L18. An eyebrow twitches. Okaaaaaaaaay, never mind, a little kid gets in. Small innocent, but DIABOLICALLY EVIL LITTLE PIECE OF ROTTEN FLESH. The little imp begins to hit buttons like a mad leprechaun. If i had my tennis racquet in hand, I might've instinctively smacked the little scaley menace.
But i didn't. He was with his mother, i wouldve needed TWO racquets in that case.
So what turned out to be a simple 2min lift ride, turned into wat seemed like 30min - im certain of it. Fucking cretin should be burned to a crisp and fed to walruses.
As if it wasnt any better, my standard bus service 124, took a turn for the worse, changing the bus from the old model of bus, to the new model - the R3T4RD3D version, with its trademark cinema seats and complete lack of seating for anyone. Engineering failure on the road.
And who says taxis arent worth it?
song of the day is "Fields of Gold" by Eva Cassidy...
Monday, July 6, 2009
alignment...
Federer is TRULLY the greatest of all time.
And that is all that i will say about that.
Bcos eventhough i was thrilled at the sight of federer leaping like a mad salmon in the air with delight, i was even more so moved at the sight of a dejected Andrew Stephen "Andy" Roddick.
The many times Roddick has played and lost, he has taken it as a lesson, a prelim paper, a preview of the greater glory. Even when he lost his USOpen title to Federer for the first time, he was markedly eager to learn and play again. And again. And again.
After the quarters of last year's wimbledon, where he was beaten by a flash-in-the-pan Richard Gasquet, Roddick has almost quit. Never had he been more mortified at his own vulnerability.
But his wife, Brooklyn Decker, a model who knew almost next to nothing about tennis, held him together. He continued his career through the year, going averagely deep into tourneys with only minor success.
His style was still the same, huge HUGE serve, followed by... something else. He struggled with that part. Roddick was all about the serve. He holds the fastest serve in all of humanity at this point. And yet...
At the 2007 Aussie open, Federer embarrassed Roddick, outserving and blasting him off the court, as Roddick tried desperately to attack the net, only for Federer to overwhelm him instead. At the 2009 French Open, he went into retriever mode, running down everything with new-found fitness and finesse and touch, only for him to be outdone by a superior and flashier Frenchmen called Gael Monfils. At the 2009 BNP Paribas, he opted for a heavy topspin power baseliner approach, much more traditional to his standards, only to meet the then world no. 1, the mighty Rafael Nadal, who consequently knocked him away.
Roddick has tried everything, and in everything, he was... GOOD. Very good. But each time, he has met with a master in that something. His western forehand will never reach the RPMs of Nadal, his transition and attack game never as smooth or natural as Federer's, and his retrieving skills never has dogged as Monfils. He was stuck somewhere in the middle, with nothing but his serve.
This year.... that serve paid its dividends, in bulk.
In the 2009 Wimbledon finals, against Federer, Roddick's serve was untouchable. He could simply NOT BE BROKEN. He held. Game after game after game... no matter the score, no matter the pressure, his serve tore through the grass like a garden shear and saved him breakpoints, set points and match points.
It saved him everything, save one crucial Championship point. It went to Federer.
A cruel cruel cruel way to end a magnificent run. For 39 games, his serve was solid. Save that one time, and it cost him everything in that match.
So sad. And so unfair. If anything, Roddick deserved that Wimbledon title. He had come so far, learned so much and had managed to put it all together this time. For once, it all came together. He could win the baseline rallies against Federer. He volleyed more successfully than RF. He could run down Federer's winning shots. And his serve.... dear gawd, what a serve.
I have become a Roddick fan. Bcos if anything, it teaches us that hard work, determination and the reliance on what makes us... US, can take us places.
song of the day is "I'm Yours" by the Script, from a msn filesharing session that started at 2am in the morning... siao.
And that is all that i will say about that.
Bcos eventhough i was thrilled at the sight of federer leaping like a mad salmon in the air with delight, i was even more so moved at the sight of a dejected Andrew Stephen "Andy" Roddick.
The many times Roddick has played and lost, he has taken it as a lesson, a prelim paper, a preview of the greater glory. Even when he lost his USOpen title to Federer for the first time, he was markedly eager to learn and play again. And again. And again.
After the quarters of last year's wimbledon, where he was beaten by a flash-in-the-pan Richard Gasquet, Roddick has almost quit. Never had he been more mortified at his own vulnerability.
But his wife, Brooklyn Decker, a model who knew almost next to nothing about tennis, held him together. He continued his career through the year, going averagely deep into tourneys with only minor success.
His style was still the same, huge HUGE serve, followed by... something else. He struggled with that part. Roddick was all about the serve. He holds the fastest serve in all of humanity at this point. And yet...
At the 2007 Aussie open, Federer embarrassed Roddick, outserving and blasting him off the court, as Roddick tried desperately to attack the net, only for Federer to overwhelm him instead. At the 2009 French Open, he went into retriever mode, running down everything with new-found fitness and finesse and touch, only for him to be outdone by a superior and flashier Frenchmen called Gael Monfils. At the 2009 BNP Paribas, he opted for a heavy topspin power baseliner approach, much more traditional to his standards, only to meet the then world no. 1, the mighty Rafael Nadal, who consequently knocked him away.
Roddick has tried everything, and in everything, he was... GOOD. Very good. But each time, he has met with a master in that something. His western forehand will never reach the RPMs of Nadal, his transition and attack game never as smooth or natural as Federer's, and his retrieving skills never has dogged as Monfils. He was stuck somewhere in the middle, with nothing but his serve.
This year.... that serve paid its dividends, in bulk.
In the 2009 Wimbledon finals, against Federer, Roddick's serve was untouchable. He could simply NOT BE BROKEN. He held. Game after game after game... no matter the score, no matter the pressure, his serve tore through the grass like a garden shear and saved him breakpoints, set points and match points.
It saved him everything, save one crucial Championship point. It went to Federer.
A cruel cruel cruel way to end a magnificent run. For 39 games, his serve was solid. Save that one time, and it cost him everything in that match.
So sad. And so unfair. If anything, Roddick deserved that Wimbledon title. He had come so far, learned so much and had managed to put it all together this time. For once, it all came together. He could win the baseline rallies against Federer. He volleyed more successfully than RF. He could run down Federer's winning shots. And his serve.... dear gawd, what a serve.
I have become a Roddick fan. Bcos if anything, it teaches us that hard work, determination and the reliance on what makes us... US, can take us places.
song of the day is "I'm Yours" by the Script, from a msn filesharing session that started at 2am in the morning... siao.
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