Before Real Madrid makes a 1256 million move for to buy every single promising footballer from Sao Paulo, I think I'll let it rip on what is the most ridiculous transfer window I've ever seen in my life.


Kaka's departure from Milan shocked me like a taser to the nuts. It's like Johnny Depp declaring, "I ain't gonna be Captain Jack Sparrow anymore". Because only somebody of Depp's talent can cover up for the travesty that is fucking Orlando Bloom, but that's besides the point. Kaka wasn't just the symbol of Milan, he was the symbol of Italian football.


This is a bleak period for Italian football, when Juventus against Fulham is no longer as clear cut as Optimus Prime against a vending machine, and a league where Jean Alain-Boumsong can actually hold down a first team place. But it is Kaka, and till last summer Pato, who gives them a glimmer of hope that they can one day regain their status as the most beautiful league in the world.

But what I cannot stand the most is not that this move started skyrocketing all the prices of mediocre footballers the world. It is not that once again Real Madrid get their man despite being as competent as Middlesborough for long periods in the season. Rather, it is the fact that Milan continue to blind the world that Kaka left for financial reasons.

Milan's presiyoudent is the fucking Prime Minister of Italy. A simple wikipedia search gives  this:

"Silvio Berlusconi (help·info) (born 29 September 1936) is an Italian politician, entrepreneur, real estate and insurance tycoon, bank and media proprietor and sports team owner. He is the second longest-serving Prime Minister of the Italian Republic (President of the Council of Ministers of Italy), a position he has held on three separate occasions: from 1994 to 1995, from 2001 to 2006 and currently since 2008.^[1] He is the leader of the People of Freedom political movement, a centre-right party he founded in 2009, merging Forza Italia, his own party, with Alleanza Nazionale of Gianfranco Fini. His party's victory in the 2008 general elections paved the way for a third mandate in office. As of January 2009, he is the senior G8 leader, the longest-serving current leader of a G8 country."

To some, this means he is an extremely capable leader. To others it means he is very popular with the Italian public. But to me? It means he is so rich he can milk you. And if you tell me someone like him cannot bankroll Milan out of a financial crisis, but a 56 million pound cheque from Real Madrid can, then fuck me. Temasek holdings can probably buy Italy and use it as a quarantine resort.


To me it is as obvious as a penis on someone's face that either a) Kaka really wants to leave or b) Milan just can't wait to fucking cash in on someone they bought for 8 million euros. I think it's clear as hell what the answer is. And this obscene lie is just so Italian fans wouldn't do what they do best and fucking flare and burn down San Siro. But most importantly it gives a 42 year old man a reason to pacify his crying 8 year old son who just bought a Kaka replica jersey for the new season.

Just when I thought this couldn't be topped, Ronaldo, the cocky motherfucker who I'll not see play anymore, decides to sign for Real Madrid. He says it's because he's won everything with United. That is probably the most ridiculous excuse man has ever seen since Michael Jackson said he turned white cos he was "growing up".

Donald Trump didn't stop working even though he was fuck rich. Michael Jordan continued to defy gravity and led Chicago Bulls to title after title, creating such a record that even until now, almost 10 years since he's first retired(i'm gonna discount the Wizards bullshit), when you pass by a basketball court you can hear kids scream "It's Michael Jordaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan" before doing a fanciful layup. Tiger Woods has made golf such a 1 man sport with his achievements but he is still at it, 5000 swings a day, trying to better himself.


Cristiano Ronaldo is a 24 year old faggot who thinks that 3 EPL titles and 1 Champions League medal is everything. Fuck me. A champion is someone who creates a legacy, not a one-hit wonder. Steau Bucharest won the Champions League once too, so how the fuck is he different from anyone of them? The way Man Utd were ridiculously outplayed by Barcelona last year should serve as motivation to improve, but to homboy, it is a signal to jump ship.

Real Madrid lost out on the Spanish League to Barcelona last season. They were humiliated by Liverpool in Europe, and they lack the one thing that all successful clubs need, stability. How anyone can think that that Real is better than Man Utd in any aspect is really beyond me.

Benzema, Albiol, Kaka, and now Ronaldo has joined this circus. Ribery and Villa are clamouring for it. It seems to me as if the whole of Europe is waiting for Madrid to finish this insane spree before starting to make any move.

In time to come, we'll see if this "project" will bear any fruits.

Quite how soccer has descended to this state is really beyond me.

PEACE.

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This is not really a very amusing period of time for me.

The Army Half Marathon donation drive is driving me nuts. The only good thing it got me was well, that fact that today morning I could go office later than normal cos I had to bank in some money. Other than that it's been as shitty as being caught in a your driving instructor's car after he just silent-farted and stink the whole car up.

All the workload plus the nagging feeling that I still gotta study for A Levels is also pushing me to a place I've not been to ever since fucking Jungle Confidence Course. Of course nothing can top that 9 days in the hellhole I was in, but this is ridiculously close. I swear I will actually hesitate if someone offered me a choice between re-doing JCC or being under this amount of stress, when usually the answer is a flying back-hook, 12323 punches to the groin and a lump of spit followed by a resounding "FUCK NO".

But through all these I've made some good friends. Some people I can safely say will stick with me through everything. Jin has been nothing short of helpful and generous, while Victor continues to amaze me with his man-management skills and patience. I have a lot to learn from this two, and I know I will.

Above all, Jo has stuck with me through all this. Yes sometimes she gives me shit too, but she makes up for it by being so sweet I sometimes wonder if she powers Candy Empire on her own. She stuck with me through BMT, OCS, 2 overseas trips, and now I have to ask for more as the next 4 months will be as tough if not tougher. But I know we will survive.

I love you baby.

Sometimes we spend our whole life searching for what we think we want, when what we really want was here along.

Ok it sound something like the above, but whatever. I know Jo is what I want, and I'll do anything to make her happy.

And I know I shouldn't spend so much time here, even though I have a lot to say about Kaka and Ronaldo's transfer to Real Mafia no Madrid, about Land of the Lost, about Transformers, and about, well, anything stupid I came across recently. Whatever. I need to sleep. and Study. and sleep. and study. repeat. HOW FUCKING LAME IS THAT OMFG NVM I'M NOT GNA HARP ON "REPEAT". FUCK.

OKOK i gotta go or i will become the horse who fell twice at the same cliff.

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When I go to blogs and read people updating details of their daily life I normally stay as long as it takes Ronaldo to do a stepover, but my 20th birthday was so well thought not putting it here would be absolutely cardinal.

Friday 2000hrs: Brought Jo along to Partyworld with my dearest Resource Management Branch. Was really touched to see so many coming despite me being in my post for only 2 months plus plus. I really dread awkward token celebrations, but this really touched me. The surprise strawberry shotcake in the middle of Victor singing Zhu Wo Sheng Ri Quai Le was really the icing on top of a wonderful birthday celebration planned by Jin and Vic.

Saturday 1230hrs: Part 1 of Jo's plans. She gave me 2 delightful T-shirts, an iPod nano, and a gem of a birthday card. I was just too shocked, and not kidding when I say I was speechless. No one has given me that much, and for her to spend so much on me despite not earning anything really shows how much she loves me. This sounds cliche but her self-made birthday card would really suffice. I love my baby, and now I'm starting to feel guilty when I think of how I helped her celebrate her 20th. SIGH.

Saturday 0900hrs: Got into a cab after Jo had told the uncle the location, I knew we were going to do something outdoor-ish. Jo had packed my bag for me, and went another mile by putting it into a huge paper bag so I can't feel what's inside. East Coast park was the destination, and I thought we were going cycling, since we've been saying that for a long time.

Then Ong called me. I thought he was gonna wish me happy birthday, he's always so sincere, but that boy ruined Part II. I couldn't believe it but Jo actually liased with BOB to play Cage on Saturday morning. WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKK. To call this the best birthday surprise would be the biggest understatement ever. Seeing all of them, Fred Siva Danny Jiahui Yijie Wilson Jem Ong Praveen Kamalesh Fahrun Gus Irwin and Guanghao, together after so long really hit the spot. What followed was such an intense soccer session that exposed my utter lack of fitness. TIME TO RUN TIME TO SWIM TIME TO GET FIT.

Saturday 1400hrs: Boarded train to Harbourfront, had dinner reservations at Carnivore. On the train Jo handed me a small card-holder. Inside were 2 tickets to Terminator Salvation. No wonder she had been rejecting my requests for the movie. Another surprise, and the movie was a blast. I finally got to see the whole "WE ARE DEAD, WE ARE ALL DEAD" that I've been annoying Jo with. Hahahaha. Fantastic movie though.

Carnivore was intense, other than the baldie who bypassed us so many times. It wouldn't matter if not for the fact that he was serving exotic stuff like chicken heart and pork knuckles. Good place, top notch service and an ambience like no other. The price was a litle steep but absolutely worthwhile. Ahh well now's not the time for reviews.

Before I go, special thanks to Jin and Victor for planning the entire K-session and the cake, and for you RMB-sters for turning up and rocking the night with all the singing.

To Siva Danny and Jinhui, THANKS for working with Jo, and to the BOB for an unforgettable and extremely shagedelic soccer session, and for reminding me how unfit I am now. HAHA.

To the best girlfriend a man can ever ask for, thank you Jo. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, you have given me a quite a lesson on what an awesome birthday should be like, and I can assure you I will not make you regret any of the things you did for me. When you said you could top last year's birthday I was quite apprehensive, but this is undoubtedly the BEST birthday I've ever had, and I can't wait for next year.

For the past few years I've been planning my own birthday, taking care of everything. Every night at 12 midnight I would eagerly anticipate people wishing me Happy Birthday, and foolishly think that the more SMSes I get, the more friends I had, when actually it really just means how many people you have been talking to on MSN recently.

This year, all the people who texted me, other than my RMB people, I had not seen or spoken to in a long while due to NS. So for them to remember me, I think it says a lot. A fuck lot.

I can never say enough thankyous to those who were part of this magnificent birthday celebration. To the main orchestrator that is Jo, you never fail to disappoint me, and I love you, with all the love in this wasted heart of mine.

In life, you give some, and you take some. For times like these, it makes everything that I've given absofuckinglutely worthwhile.

I'll be looking back at this for a long, long time.

GOOD'DAY.

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If you listen to radio you know that every ten seconds one celebrity/popstar/jesus will pop out, and, after 9 seconds of weird electronic deejay zizipping zapping whatever, go, "you're listening to *inserts fm frequency*"

I know this might seem perfectly normal to the avearge listener, but to a person who sits in his office and listens to radio the entire time, it becomes very, and I mean very fucking irritating.

Let's face it. I know what channel I'm listening to. I'm sure everyone does. Nobody turns on the radio, pick a random frequency, and walks away. What we need is less bullshit, and more good music. What we DON'T need, is a random, over the hill redneck to go "You're listening to, blablabla", when what the radio station wants you to hear is "You are listening to the same station Chen Weilian listens to, you are really immense". Gimme a break.

Then you have people playing random bits from Family Guy. Now that is fucking pushing it. See, I'm fine if only 1 or 2 really really hilarious quotes are played, but what I get is fucking 548947 lines of FG dialogue. Tell me how the fuck does Stewie saying "I'm going to kill you, then I'm going to kill the fat man" help.

Okay you watch Family Guy. I understand it's really funny. I really do. But get a fucking grip. If you're running out of ideas at least be subtle about it. Grabbing 1 or 2 quotes from Family Guy, Southpark, FRIENDS is being subtle. Playing the entire season of a cartoon on air isn't.

On an entirely different note, I won TNP Postman's letter of the week. Shall wait in anticipation for my new boots. Woohoo.

In other news, Kris Allen won America(is stupid) Idol. I just hope he won't end up like Taylor Hicks. He really seems like a pretty nice guy.

PEACE.

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I actually had a draft typed out this week, but Imma postpone that just because what I'm about to say I have been waiting for too long, too long.


I love Arsenal FC.

The only time I've felt so low after watching an Arsenal match is when Michael he's-only-good-cos-he's-fast Owen plundered 2 late goals to totally rob the FA cup from under our noses.

That said, Man Utd entirely deserved to win. Anyone who disagrees with that either does unicycling for a living or is a retard. We were just not good enough. Walcott couldn't figure that there was no way he could use his pace past Evra because the latter was playing in line with Van Der Saar, and Adebayor continues to think that the offside rule only applies to non-African players.

However, I do not blame a single Arsenal member, from Peter Hill-Wood down to the corny announcer at the Emirates. I especially hate it when, after one bad performance, Arsenal "fans" starts calling for Wenger's head, Bendtner's legs, or to axe Fabregas and sell Denilson and Eboue at a 30% discount inclusive of a free Arsenal scarf and a trip for 2 to Dubai courtesy of Emirates.


Yes we had a bad night, yes Man Utd outclassed us, but these were the same players who beat them 2-1 at the Emirates earlier this season, the same people who survived that penalty shootout against Roma, and the same group which earned rave reviews for going 21 games unbeaten in the league. What is very disturbing is hearing "football analysts" in papers or websites saying Arsene should buy "Alonso who has the experience of the baboon in Lion King" or "Gareth 6-metre-passes Barry" who has valiantly led Aston Villa to 5TH IN THE FUCKING LEAGUE.


I'm not even going to start on what the fuck a job title such as a "football analyst" means(what's next, football advisor?), but seeing people who think they can outthink and advise Arsene Wenger who to buy on papers and websites is really fucking amusing. Yah okay you've won 4 FA cups in FM2009. Get a frigging grip. Yes the 16 year old Brazilian virgin you signed from Sao Paulo scored 50 goals in his first season. Great transfer acumen? How about no.

Before people even start pointing fingers at Arsenal, let's look at another Top 4 club, Liverpool. What have they achieved this season with their "experienced" and "old" players? Hmmmm. Other than being perpetually second in the league, they also achieved elimination in the FA cup, League Cup and Champions League before Arsenal. AWESOME!!

Meanwhile, young and weak Arsenal only managed to be semi-finalists in FA Cup and Champions League, fourth in the league although the difference from being second is having to play a Champions League qualifying fixture with an obscure Eastern European team who probably have a team of plumbers and mechanics. Are we really that bad after one loss to what is possibly the best team in world football right now?

I have absolute faith that if Wenger keeps this team together for at least 3 more years, we will destroy people. The last of the old guards, Henry and Ljunberg, only left 2 years ago. We are still rebuilding. It wasn't helped by Hleb's and Flamini's last minute departures. Although I am sure their combined appearances at Barca and Milan are prolly less than Eboue's tally this season. HA SUCKERS.

Point being? Yes we are a young squad, but it is a work in progress, not a finished article. And the fact that this "work in progress" significantly exceeded the minimal expectations heaped upon them, and also Liver-forever2nd-pool, really says alot about their undoubted raw talent and promise.

Yes, maybe some changes are needed. I'll leave that to Wenger, to Pat Rice, to all who have been there and done that, but definitely NOT to the fucking football analysts, who still think we should sign a world class MC and an experienced CB. COME ON. Which club wouldn't want a world class MC and an experienced CB? Even Pingyee can say that.

PEACE.

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WOOHOO I LOVE JO

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This really wasn't the script I had in mind.

Sometimes when I look back, of course I wish I had dealt with things better.

Of course I wish I had more time.

Of course I wish things could turn out better.

But this isn't a one man epic.

I need my supporting actors, yet when the time really called for it, they couldn't step up.

They just couldn't. And it hurts.

But, for all you know, maybe this is just how things will turn out, eventually.

For better or for worse, nobody knows.

But this is my life. I chose it. And I'm not regretting it one single bit.

I'm moving on, with Her.

And that's just the way it's gonna be.

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When I started watching soccer, Bergkamp was at the peak of his powers. It was a pity the faggoty me back then only looked out for goals and not assists. Looking back, this man is really a one of a kind genius.

Anyways, had mutton soup at Geylang with the Yaps. The goat's tongue is enough to make your testicles jump twice. Imbaaaaa. Realised that I always eat these exotic stuff with the Yaps. I wonder when we'll have a proboscous monkey's nose or a striped hyena's calf muscle.

Today's the 14 month-sary of me and JO. HAHA. Lame people celebrate months. Cool people eat Kambing soup and go OCS to return number 2 on their month-sarys. I'm cool.

Okay tomorrow's my first driving lesson. I know, I know, I'm slow. Suck my tits.

Oh and I strongly encourgae people to watch the latest Russell Peter's shit. Red, White and Brown. It makes you laugh more than watching an entire season of Two and a Half Men while tickling your toes with the latest OSIM foot massage thingy.

Now that I'm 8 to 5ish once more, I see more people, and the bitch in me is raging once more. I sense more entries. HAHA.

Okay time to dine. Arsenal's kicking ass now, I'm eating rather good food for now, I'm on a 46 game unbeaten streak in FM 2009 now, I will tip the next beggar I see 50 baht. Woohoo.

TATA.

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Wanted to slip this at the end of the last entry, but decided it was worth one entry alone.

5th Feb 2009 marks 1 year of the happiest time of my life thus far. 1 year of unbrindled joy, pleasant surprises, and undying and unconditional love.

SYJO.

1 year and counting.

I LOVE YOU BABY! :)

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And so, the see them once a year time has arrived! HAPPY CHINESE NEW YEAR to whoever still visits this undermanned blog.

As you may have guessed, the only impetus I have to blog is when I come across something that arouses the bitchy side in me, and considering how little time I have left for myself due to NS you can probably guess how, for lack of a better word, disturbed I was when I read this article by someone called Solomon in the New Paper.

I've written an article on names from hell, I've attended the wedding of someone called Lancelot, so pardon the lack of insults towards the aforementioned person, but trust me when I say his articles contains enough vermin to kill the entire Golden Army from Hellboy 2, which is about as bad as a movie can fucking get.

See I can understand why some people dread Chinese New Year, like being afraid of wearing the same dress as someone else, or having to deal with the ice-breaking phase that's inevitable considering you only meet your grandma's cousin's aunt's pet dog's neighbor's daughter's fortune teller once a year, but to dread CNY because of giving Red Packets?! Seriously? That's like not wanting to win the World Cup because you're afraid it's too heavy. COME ON.

Kids will be kids. If you expect them to have the maturity of Guan Yu(redcliff2 owns btw) or the fucking wisdom of every Morgan Freeman character then you probably think Paris Hilton is a nun. So when they ask for more angbao money don't give the oh-you-just-came-on-my-face look. If this happens every week like Eboue fucking up for Arsenal then okay, but it's an annual thingy! It's Chinese New Year, for GuanYinMa's sake. Do humanity a favour, go withdraw some spanking new notes and, most importantly, let it rip.

But dear columnist here brings it one step further by saying he didn't have enough "ammunition", i.e., his own kids, to counter his losses. Firstly, I don't know about you guys but I'll be quite disappointed if my dad puts me on level ground as a 5.56 round. Like seriously. I'd rather be first guy that got fucked by Ip Man when he challenged those 10 guys than be a fucking bullet. Give me a fucking break.

I thought Singaporeans have left the Kiasu era behind them but obviously this guy is so miserly he probably lives on food the last Apatosaurus left behind, and collects those paper flipflops from hotels, probably from his last visit to Zimbwabe, where everyone's middlename is inflation. No?

I'm incredibly easy-going, but I'd rather watch Emmanuel Eboue juggle a football for 1hour giving different expressions every 5mins than read articles like these.

PEACE.

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