book and its cover.

And the lecturer at the course points over to me.

"Hey, can you pls help the old guy next to you? He looks lost. Looks like he's been lost since the start of the day."

All i can do is face-palm and shake my head.

Pls... GODDAMNIT... STOP SAYING THAT.

Another 20min later, after another chapter, the lecturer says the same thing again.

"Alright, tomorrow, you're sitting in front."

The guy next to me is dressed in a loose old polo, that looks like it was cut frm the seat of a car. With tan colored pants, a crinkled up old brown belt and a dark brown hiking shoes. His blackberry was in his front pocket on the polo, and pulled it down bcos of the sheer weight, and he smiled everytime, like he was back in grade school.

My friends, the man sitting next to me, was the Senior Director of Projects, a man who has had more than 20years experience in this industry with connections all over the security, commercial and government security sector.

Dear gawd... man... they need to add the "Job Title" column to the application forms of the course... seriously...

another world currency...

3 day course.

The training room is equipped with computers. Computers come equipped with full internet access. Everyone else is sitting in front of me, im in the back row.

I am watching youtube and writing this blog.

The next 3 days will be great.

Heh...

And the food here - HORRIBLE. I paid S$6.50 for half of a dory fillet with white rice and a few shredded strands of lettuce and tomato with cucumber. I wanted to puke. At least they were generous with the mayonnaise...

song of the day is "Eric's Song" by Vienna Teng...

short and sweet...

Tennis = Shiok ah!

Work = Fuck ah!

MRT traffic = Shit ah!

Boss calls last min asking for project to be submitted latest by Sunday, but the files that you need are back in the office so you have to go back to the office on a FUCKING sunday to get some files, edit them and pdf them, but then your Adobe Professional doesnt work anymore and you gotta reinstall all this crap and put the files together, after pdfing and submit online thru a DAMN slow documentation control program and STILL have to rush out for tennis at 3pm = GODDAMN FUCKING KNNCCB OMFGWTFCAMEL BBQ SHIT FUCK FU-SHIT-CK SH-FUCK-IT ah!!!

song of the day is "Eric's Song" by Vienna Teng... a smooth and slow piano piece that will calm ur soul, and ease your burdens for the day... ... ... i.e. you will fall asleep.

last call for sin...

Been 6 days since the last post.

Lots of new things.

For one, Federer is now achieved a Career Grand Slam, which means that he has won all 4 of the most important tennis tournaments in the ATP (namely, the Australian Open, Wimbledon, US Open and his much coveted French Open title). This makes Federer the undisputed GOAT (bah bah...) which stands for Greatest Of All Time, at least up to this point. Whether or not Nadal can overtake him is another story that is still being written.

Also, do not forget that Federer has also achieved a VERY RARE Career Golden Slam (a Career Grand Slam plus an Olympic Gold Medal). Only Andre Agassi has achieved this, but he had no where NEAR the number of titles that Federer has.

In other news, i have a new phone. The Samsung Star. Check it out. Full touch screen and very lightweight and slim. Nice.

In other words, i advise anyone against visiting MOUNTBATTEN. The place is haunted. Haunted to the fucking core. The only one sanctuary there seems to be the fucking 24hr MacDonalds near the Kallang Stadium. Everytime we go down to that centre in Mountbatten for a simple problem, always ends up something screws up, machines start acting funny and stuff doesnt work. Also, prostitutes line the streets, but they're like 50+ years old, which is like uber disgusting.

So, in other words. DO NOT GO TO MOUNTBATTEN. That place sux.

Except the MacDonalds. Which is total WIN.

song of the day is "All These Things That I've Done" by The Killers... my new ringtone...

sod-off...

It's a Wednesday, and im still shaking from the aftermath of the situation.

And yes, it'll be about tennis.

Rafael Nadal is out of the French Open. Andy Murray is out of the French Open as well.

The remaining players are: Robin Soderling, Fernando Gonzalez, Gael Monfils, Juan Martin Del Potro, Tommy Robredo and Roger Federer.

This is Soderling's best showing at major event so far, and he beat Nadal on Sunday. Gonzalez has had his best results on hard court, not clay, being a finalist in the 07 Aussie Open. Monfils is a home crowd favorite and is in the form of his life. Del Potro has the physical gifts to make him a winner, tall, with a huge serve and flat strokes. Robredo is a dark horse of the lot, short in stature with a one-handed backhand and quick reflexes. And then we have Federer, who is in a "slump" and who's form looks exceptionally shakey.

If we go by Head-to-Head records, Federer should sweep this one easily, but we know that surprises abound in the French Open, LOTS of them. One of them sent Nadal packing.

Back to work, the morning random blog session is over.

stop kidding yourself...

Just admit it la.

Your son did it.

There is NO WAY in hell that it COULDNT have been him.

It's not about whether or not he did do it or not, but it's just that there are NO OTHER ALTERNATIVES to explain what happened. Is it possible that Widj*j* walked into his prof's office while the prof was masturbating and was thus attacked by a knife wielding prof, desperate to hide his sick obsession, but underestimated the polite young indonesian and was disarmed and counter-stabbed (yes i just invented that word), leading him to flee the office. And overcome by the mental damage of seeing his prof jerking off, young lad Widj*j* throws himself off a building.

Does that sound even REMOTELY possible? NO WAY, except the part abt profs masturbating, which im sure they do, bcos they can, and their offices are usually so quiet and comfy, plus free internet access... temptation...

ANYWAY, there are no other alternatives to explain what happened.

Just remember, a little while ago, 2 quiet, polite kids picked up guns and shot up a school in the US.

THERE WERE ALL ONLINE GAMERS. The 2 kids in the US were obviously Counterstrike fans (they used guns remember?). And THUS, we can deduce that Widj*j* was a WORLD OF WARCRAFT fan (he used a knife).

Most likely chose to be an Undead character too, which is why he jumped, fully expecting him to "live" through it. Which of course he didnt. But that's strange isnt it? I mean, if Undead are already DEAD, then why is it in the game, they still kena damage when they jump off a high cliff?? It doesnt make sense.

I will now make a reference to THIS, which should give some POSSIBLE SCENARIOS for what happened.

Let's think M Night Shayamalan.

In typical Shayamalan style, most likely, it will turn out that the injured and recovering prof is actually the REAL Widjaja. The evil prof found a way to SWITCH BODIES with his young indo student. And then tried to kill the real student, but he got away. He then realized that it SUCKED to be an indo kid in sg, with a warcraft character who specialized in gay-ass botany and killed himself. Sixth sense anyone?

Or perhaps we'll go with the classic LOTR ending. EAGLES saved him. We just dont know it yet.

Or perhaps Naruto. It wasnt Widj*j*, it was just a KAGE BUNSHIN!!

Either way, it'd be retarded to continue to deny it - your son attacked a prof. At least he had the balls to try something like that. He failed though. A miserable FAILURE, but at least he tried.

Or perhaps he was just a lost lonely soul, looking for companionship in an online world that had become so warped with his own reality that the concept of death-rebirth became second nature. And thus, spurred by the pain of a loss in scholarship, and disappointment of his parents, he took to vengeance. Just as a computer gamer will naturally seek out the monster that killed him before, he sought out the prof whom he blamed and tried to take matters into his own hands, believeing that he had been wronged academically, and that he deserved vengeance. And faced with the reality of his actions, his heart bulged with the guilt and reality of what he had done - he had attacked a fellow innocent human and had stained his family's reputation forever. Unable to bear the guilt, he took flight, and like the ambitious but blind Icarus, he fell. He fell to his doom.

Or maybe God did it.

Argue as you will.

Think about all the possible alternatives, and the reality becomes CRYSTAL CLEAR.

song of the day is "Your Call" by Secondhand Serenade...

freshly baked...

I cannot remember the last time I felt *that* excited before a match. Eventhough i had faced this same guy countless times. The difference was that, this time, i had something to prove to myself.

Over the past few months, my focus had shifted, and so did my game. Slowly, the scored crept up. A long time ago, i had beat this friend of mine 6-0. A score that is defined in tennis as a Bagel.

A week later, it was 6-1, called a Breadstick, but it still didnt matter.

Then came a short couple of days in which, i pulled a muscle in my lower back. Not a big issue. Just a minor strain from the gym. I could still move and walk and lift, i just had to take a short break from serving.

When i came back, the serve felt good. But i was wrong. When my friend and i played a match again, i found myself struggling. My serve... lacked bite. It wasnt heavy. It wasnt fast. Hell, it wasnt even that accurate anymore.

And coming from a guy whom my fellow tennis khakis called "Mr Sampras" (im not kidding), it was heartbreaking.

I won that match 6-4. It was CLOSE. SOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo close that even when i had won, i didnt know it. I was still in minor panic mode. Neve before had i been afraid to serve. This time, it was bad.

The reason was simple, the minor sprain on my back was still in my head. Eventhough i was fully recovered physically, mentally though, i was no where.

And that's where Friday came in. Towing my bags to nus, in the blazing hot sun, the heat exhaustion made me forget that i had ever had a back problem.

And on Sunday, it all came back. Serve after serve after serve. It felt great. It felt GOOD.

The score was back at 6-0. But all credit to my friend, he was a real challenge.

Time to bake more bagels.

And for some reason, the day after, which was a Sunday, saw me UNNATURALLY fresh in the morning. Like i just had a good fuck the night before.

Song of the day is back to "Falling Down" by Oasis. I cant stop listening to that song. It is awesome