I’m all for a good competition. Competition sharpens ambition, it raises the bar and the standard of the playing field, and makes things a little more fun, really. Even if one team isn’t quite as good as the other, there’s still a lot to look forward to. Underdogs can topple a champion, or champions may prevail. Results are never straight-forward; may the best man win.
It’s when one opponent is laughably bad and makes the stupidest mistakes that competition becomes a farce.
Oh, our lovely little unnamed politickal party with a bankrupt man at its head. What on earth are you doing? How seriously dumb can you get? Will this latest shenanigan really win over the hearts of Singaporeans? Men ranting about non-issues to whoever will listen, and being utterly mule-headed and stubborn. No less than the honorable Lee*s have filed suit against you, but like that’s not enough, you still go out and sell more copies of your little paper.
Rats are already fleeing the sinking ship but Atap Ch*ee is brainlessly clinging on like the captain of a ship with misguided loyalty, like a terrier who won’t let go even after his skull has been caved in with a large iron bar.
I’ll give him this much, he’s a tenacious little bugger.
I want to go Bangkok really, really badly.
I’m going to miss this year’s King’s Cup because I went and committed to Yunnan without checking the dates for King’s. Well, angel won’t be there again this year so it won’t be quite as fun. Maybe next year then, one last gasp before I enter the working world.
Not sure if KX and Ying still want to go to BKK. If they back out I’m gonna have to find somebody else to go with me :( Den might come. It’s really cheap now, JetStar is offering at only $19…must go must go must go and blow all my internship pay :D
Either that, or convince Dad to take us to Vietnam at the end of the year, then I’ll give up my Bangkok holiday and save the money - or learn diving at Redang :)
I apologise for the morose tone of my blog entries of late. Upheavals and spin cycles and tension have been making me feel very low these days, and it’ll just be a matter of time before I’m able to shake off the doldrums and put on my happy face again.
I do have something to be happy-proud of - last Saturday a bunch of the old-timer masters (angel, babi, big bird, Cheah, Gan, Andy, Tony, Quek) and me (non-master extra :D) trooped over to Michael’s new condo in Ang Mo Kio (you know, the one that’s sprung up behind and beside the community library) for an impromptu unofficial mini that has been dubbed ‘Grandeur 8 Mini’ in honor of the condo’s rather glam moniker.
I bummed around his apartment the whole afternoon because I wasn’t good enough to play in the tournament I’d shamelessly cadged the invitation from Michael anyway I wasn’t playing in the mini, so I enjoyed Michael’s lovely little loft library, drank gin and tonics and entertained Tony’s youngest girl with endless games of hide-and-seek (I’m not so sure I want kids anymore). In the end Michael asked me to play his last game for him, because even though he’d gotten 15 bingos throughout the afternoon, he’d only won one game, or something like that. So I took over his last game with Quek…and thrashed him by well over 100 points. Even managed to get the highest scoring bingo of the entire afternoon, FLASHED (four-timer) for 112 points. Ha! Quite pleased and proud and perhaps not so afraid of eventually entering A div (that is, assuming I finally make the grade).
Singapore Open is in a month and I desperately need to finish in at least top three in B div to make myself confident that I’m good enough and going somewhere. Sadly though, Sing Open (being an open) will probably see the Malaysian masters and good B players coming over the Causeway to yank my chances below ground level, so I’m just going to have to buck up. Don’t want my ratings to drop anymore :(
Okay, enough scrabble talk :P I know all of you are staring at my blog and muttering words like “geek”, “crazy”, “omgwth what is a bingo” and such, so I’ll stop now, I promise :D
It’s funny how one person can feel so alone even when surrounded by tons of people.
They’re renaming our school the Wee*Kim*Wee School*of Communication*and In*formation.
Right.
WKW*SCI sounds awful. I don’t want to be a graduate of the WKW*SCI! No offense to the great man himself because he was a lovely person (so I hear) and a fantastic president (so I’m told), but seriously, I really hate it when they randomly tack on names to a school just to honor the person - especially when it’s because of money.
Like the Yong*Siew*Toh Conservatory*of Mu*sic. I’ve gotten unending grief from my friends who are students there, because the name is unwieldly, clumsy and not at all smooth on the tongue, just like our brand new WKW*SCI (shudders run down my spine when I even think the name).
So if we’re stuck with it anyway, and as a result have gained a $25 million fund for our school, can we:
1) get a new vending machine with instant noodles and a hot water dispenser, because we’re an isolated school with no canteen/cafe,
2) expand the school to build a new LT because one lecture theatre that can only hold 120 students is obviously not enough for even one batch of 180 students per year,
3) stop having to pay equipment rental
4) throw out AM*IC and restock the library with books that were actually published this millennium?
I wonder if they’re even going to account to us where the money is going. I hope to see some visible improvements to school.
Gasp, maybe they paid for the new 5th floor and rooftop with the money!
I’m prone to making rash decisions when I’m vulnerable and washed up on the rocks.
I just want to let down my hair and forget everything.
I’m so messed up.
Things keep running through my head, crazy thoughts, don’t think, don’t, that way lies madness.
So many crazy damn things.
My hero, my Liverpool captain. Best midfielder in English football. True blue (red?) Kopite.
I present to you: Stevie G, Professional Footballers’ Association Player Of The Year 2005.