<?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-7445327012596180816</id><updated>2011-12-26T19:46:45.962-08:00</updated><category term='Beijing 2008 Olympics'/><title type='text'>The wind is a perv</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>99</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-7651408010230732771</id><published>2011-08-17T00:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T07:47:19.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is answering a rhetorical question necessary?</title><content type='html'>Learning about how creative industries and ethnics are, the word 'propaganda' does not seem to be alienated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, the ever so faithful Dictionary.com always does the trick. I decided to "dwell deeper" into the meaning of 'propaganda' with my phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not long after, my lecturer asked me (which I assumed was a rhetorical question), &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"What are you doing with your phone?"&lt;/span&gt; which she later proceeded to mention (angrily, may I just add) that her hospitalised mother has terminal cancer and there she was, standing before us to feed us with some creativity about how industries and ethnics are, and we (well.... I, in this case) seem to not bother about what she was going on about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have told her the truth - you know, "dwelling deeper" into 'propaganda' and perhaps I could have added that my late Grandfather was on life support because he had lung cancer and before his last breath, he told me that I should continue my tertiary education in any good university and most importantly, perfect my level of the Chinese language. And here I am, a second year degree student in a good university and most importantly, doing my very best in perfecting my level of the Chinese language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From my experience, teachers/lecturers never seem to get it. They take it as students being "very rude" and if you are unlucky, you get sent out of the class. Now, doesn't that just piss the world out of you that educators, (people who you are supposed to respect by paying full attention and not refer to Dictionary.com when you are in doubt of a word - any word at all) even so if you are in doubt of the meaning, you will somehow still be blamed for not knowing such words because you are meant to be a university student; ask you rhetorical questions and add personal stories just so you feel sorry for no one but yourself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, it is not like my answer (to a rhetorical question, mind you) would have done any justice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so my reply to her was&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; "Nothing..."&lt;/span&gt;, and later waited for class to end until I could actually "dwell deeper" into 'propaganda', which later also led to me feeling rather sorry about her sick mother and the fact that she was standing before us, lecturing us on how creative industries and ethnics are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess rhetorical answers do not work. Well, not always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-7651408010230732771?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/7651408010230732771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=7651408010230732771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7651408010230732771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7651408010230732771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2011/08/is-answering-rhetorical-question.html' title='Is answering a rhetorical question necessary?'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-6198378502413304417</id><published>2011-08-09T07:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T07:34:34.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is stupidity a social issue or not?</title><content type='html'>Discussing about social issue in class earlier had sort of pushed me to list down at least 10 different social issues to talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depression, anorexia, obesity, prostitution, rape... are the few of the many social issues we have in the world we live in. However, all of which are deemed "boring" for it is too common. (Seriously, what kind of world are we living in nowadays?!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, I thought that 'stupidity' should be a social issue. However, it is not (according to my lecturer). But I beg to differ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, common sense is so rare nowadays. Sure, there is the saying that goes that &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Nobody is stupid, just that they have not fully nurtured their brains."&lt;/span&gt; - Perhaps it is a nice way to put it but is it a choice for one to NOT fully nurture their brains? Or is it because they are too ignorant to even bother to nurture their brains? Either way, it is still stupid of the individual; to make it a choice NOT to nurture their brains, and to be ignorant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take for example, teen suicide (due to bullying - physical and/or cyber). Nowadays, most teens take their lives away because of bullying. In conclusion, it is a decision which leads to a permanent act just to "solve" a temporary phase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My opinion? It IS a stupid thing to do. Being hurt makes one angry too; and anger causes people to do stupid things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point is, THIS (the example above) stupidity seems to be a social issue. After all, physical and cyber bullying are both social issues. Teen suicide is another social issue. All this stupidity are summed up to be one big social issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As mentioned before, common sense seems to be so rare nowadays. How is that not an issue? Let alone, socially? That is where being pressured by peers soldiers on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the stupidity by many in this century we are all living in, is stupidity a social issue or not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-6198378502413304417?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/6198378502413304417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=6198378502413304417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6198378502413304417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6198378502413304417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2011/08/is-stupidity-social-issue-or-not.html' title='Is stupidity a social issue or not?'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-3433202335438959127</id><published>2011-07-22T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-22T12:18:15.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Choke</title><content type='html'>I grew up with few friends. Sometimes, no friends at all. Therefore, I grew up with Harry Potter. I read the book when I was a child and I will just say that it was a magical read. It made me happy every time I read the book (it still does); it was like an 'escape' for me, and how I could even be friends with the trio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, I would say that I "grew up" together with Harry Potter. He was like an imaginary friend. I do not think it is at all crazy but it did make me very imaginative and how I would always think outside the box. Moreover, it taught me what 'friendship' is all about and despite the fact that I grew up with the mindset of "having friends is actually pointless", it seemed like Harry portrayed someone who would do anything for his friends and there could be (at least) some people out there who are like him in the real world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember back when I was about 13, I was sharing with some people I know of at church, that I enjoy reading the Harry Potter series.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, I did not get a pleasant feedback because I was supposed to be a Christian, and I was not supposed to read such books for it portrayed witchcraft and wizardry. Ergo, reading Harry Potter would eventually "lure me to the dark side" and that I would start "practicing witchcraft and wizardry" because I had been strongly influenced by what I read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't elaborate further when what I actually want to say are found &lt;a href="http://www.relevantmagazine.com/culture/film/features/26194-the-redemption-of-harry-potter"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can read but no one is forcing you. No use with morons anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That, I could assure you will not "lure me to the dark side". The only confirmation of me joining the dark side would to become a death eater. (Nah jk, I always wanted to say that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such false accusation. If you were meant to find fault, apparently you did not do so well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know what is worse? Cursing me to go to hell just because I read Harry Potter. As if you are so sure that you are secured a place in Heaven. How I wish I could &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;obliviate&lt;/span&gt; you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not afraid of threats. You do not even know what you are going on about and you are going on with your false prophesy like you know everything. If your intention was to scare me, you pissed me off instead. And because of that, I would like to class you as an 'Epic Failure' - because your intentions of wanting to scare me, pissed me off instead - &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;EPIC FAIL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, it's funny and yet so irritating at the same time that every block head turns into a Harry Potter 'fan' after every single damn movie. What's even funnier (and yet so very irritating) is that people who never read and never know what's what, claim to have read all seven books. (And that would be coming from those who went around asking whether Voldemort won in the end.) Sorry, but getting your answers does not prove you know everything - let alone you, ever reading even one book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you choke on your words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-3433202335438959127?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/3433202335438959127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=3433202335438959127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/3433202335438959127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/3433202335438959127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2011/07/choke.html' title='Choke'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-4652784639072173536</id><published>2011-05-17T08:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T08:11:53.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dislike</title><content type='html'>I am just wondering why are people so obsessed to even see a need to have a 'dislike' button on Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe according to 'theory' is that it should be "balanced" in some ways, to have a 'like' button AND a 'dislike' button; to sum that all up, to be clear in their own point of views when they either like or dislike something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny that this obsession even went to the extent of groups being created, begging (yes, beg for one stupid button) for the 'dislike' button, as if it happens to be a matter of life and death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, the Facebook team has got other better things to do, than to succumb to just creating one miserable 'dislike' button for a bunch of yahoos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why the protest?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You either do not 'like' your friends' statuses at all, or 'unlike' if you realise your silly mistake for liking in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all the trouble to create several groups of begging for a 'dislike' button.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-4652784639072173536?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/4652784639072173536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=4652784639072173536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4652784639072173536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4652784639072173536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2011/05/dislike.html' title='Dislike'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-6237895922223026881</id><published>2011-05-02T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-02T11:13:41.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dyslexic</title><content type='html'>I hate to repeat of what I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am slightly convinced that some (or rather most) people are slightly dyslexic. No offense, whatsoever to actual dyslexics. (Funny, isn't it? That it comes off as offending, but have started off my sentence with 'no offense'.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's okay if they ask the second time but what is the point of asking over and over? Are you not satisfied with the same answer I give you over and over?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this moment, I don't know if I should feel pissed or 'rise above it', although the latter is very much preferred but seriously, how does this not bother me at all, that I am in every right to feel pissed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the foulies kick in, I shall jump to conclusion. (Pun!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion, some (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;maybe&lt;/span&gt; dyslexic) people really know how to piss people off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now you are going to question on how I live my life? - Fuck you very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-6237895922223026881?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/6237895922223026881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=6237895922223026881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6237895922223026881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6237895922223026881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2011/05/dyslexic.html' title='Dyslexic'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-3336086817666643575</id><published>2011-04-07T00:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T00:56:09.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fair enough</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAD: Do you have any finger food?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;WAITRESS: Um, well... we have fish fingers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAD: Oh? I guess that's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;finger-ish&lt;/span&gt; enough. I'll have a plate of that, please.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;ME: That was funny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAD: I know, and it is deep fried, healthy finger food.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because fish is meant to be healthy...&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/7445327012596180816-3336086817666643575?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/3336086817666643575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=3336086817666643575' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/3336086817666643575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/3336086817666643575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2011/04/fair-enough.html' title='Fair enough'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-8692790192157824233</id><published>2011-04-06T10:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T10:59:19.594-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Abused</title><content type='html'>Facebook has this new 'Question' button, and I think it is being abused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, my newsfeed is filled with stupid polls, by stupid people, asking stupid questions. Oh, the stupidity...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also think people like to abuse my nice-ness by taking advantage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, how weird of me to be 'nice' when my blog speaks otherwise. But deep down, I believe people deserve &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; chance. About to vomit as I type that because I am blogging about the abusive power in mankind; moreover, being pissed off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not get people. Like I ever &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;did&lt;/span&gt; anyway. But I dare say that I have at least tried, and still try to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I do not get people on why they want to do something when they already know they are not good at that particular something. It is good that people try things out - part and parcel of life by trying new things; also to see if it is your 'calling' or not. But that is a different story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I am trying to say is that certain people already know they do not have that particular 'calling' towards a particular something but still insist on doing it, whatever it may be. I am in no place to be judgmental over people's passion. I have passion too and I make sure that I have talent in some things, to a certain extent. Even if you had the likes of it but with no sense of passion (in other words: being irresponsible and coming up with thousand and one excuses, like saying that you cannot make it to practices because you have a pimple in your bum), then fuck off and let people waste their own time by themselves - don't need you to 'help out' in that, thank you very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So do not come and talk the fake shit saying that you have 'passion' towards something but do not even have a tinge of responsibility towards it. It also means: coming up with pathetic excuses saying, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I cannot do it!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you "cannot do it", then why the fuck are you wasting my time for? I do not like associating with people who try to be sympathetic, whether or not you are trying to use reverse psychology here, expecting me to say that you are good and you can actually do 'it' blah blah blah.... Shut up already, for fuck's sakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To sum it all up and put it in a nutshell, it is people (like me) who have to put up with this shit and lose everything: my temper, effort, breath and most importantly, my time. It actually makes me feel somewhat 'abused'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh sure.... this post is about you since everything seems to be about you. Go ahead and feel insecure. To put it in layman terms is that your attitude is like that pimple in your bum - irritating, and.... gosh, isn't your life just fucked up? &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Abusive...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-8692790192157824233?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/8692790192157824233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=8692790192157824233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/8692790192157824233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/8692790192157824233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2011/04/abused.html' title='Abused'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-4444670465264955043</id><published>2011-02-17T08:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T09:10:44.026-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And I come out from hiding</title><content type='html'>I admit. I am no fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took no liberty in wishing a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and finally-it-is-over Chinese New Year. I do not hate Chinese New Year at all but my anticipation for the end of noise and air pollution has come. *does the lion dance*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless, I shall do the futterwacken!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not coming up with any new year resolutions because I do not seem to follow it anyway. Last year, I thought that I could at least practice the piano every single day for one hour the least but it never happened. Hah! So, I am just going to live the rest of my daily life of 2011 as the river flows. But hope I do remember to AT LEAST play the piano (everyday).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I also think I am a vampire. But I do not like blood. I am so rare. Even for a vampire *covers half my face with cape*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just had to say it. So that people's thoughts of me being stereotyped as "weird" can be maintained to suit their fancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that after all, I have a good heart. A heart that looks out for other people's well-being. Just to let them continue thinking that I am weird for I think I am a vampire when I am slightly confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHA!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, I miss dissing people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;x&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-4444670465264955043?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/4444670465264955043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=4444670465264955043' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4444670465264955043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4444670465264955043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2011/02/and-i-come-out-from-hiding.html' title='And I come out from hiding'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-8341477676802100696</id><published>2010-11-11T05:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T05:44:48.567-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Force</title><content type='html'>Forcing is such an Asian thing to do, in my humble opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example: I hate it when my Mum forces me to practice the piano. I know, I know but really... it gets irritating. Whether I irritate my Mum by not practicing the piano or not, is a different story but you get what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Moving on to reality...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate it when people force me to eat when I do not feel hungry or do not feel like eating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, for one, do not tend to be such an Asian to use "reverse psychology" by declining when I really, really want it so badly at heart. Because I think it is a waste of time and only pea brains would live up to this tendency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what irritates me more, in which flows along with the forcing is that when you give your reason (the truth and nothing but the truth, mind you), they do not believe you and think by sending guilt running down your spine would make you change your mind but seriously, it makes me pissed off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few examples inspired by true events (in my experience, of course):-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I am not hungry and I do not want to eat."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;"It is your life. Go ahead and get gastric."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What a curse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I have already eaten."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;"Yeahhhhhh rightttttttt!!!!!! Just eat it."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am not hungry, I will tell you I am not bloody hungry and I do not wish to eat and I expect you to respect my decision. So stop forcing me and ask me to "have a bit" or rather "just eat it".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what irritates me as a whole? Not believing or let alone respecting my answer. Yeah, you must have seen me not eating before that you have this fantastic sarcasm of saying, "Yeah right". Really? Is that all you can say after??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may be an Asian and have grown up in an Asian community, but that does not mean I am like every other Asian who shy away by refusing great offers when at heart, it is otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if I were to get a gastric (as cursed), I'd rather not eat than to contradict myself and making people think I am cheap like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-8341477676802100696?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/8341477676802100696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=8341477676802100696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/8341477676802100696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/8341477676802100696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/11/force.html' title='Force'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-1071382528876042735</id><published>2010-09-30T10:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-30T10:52:16.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bo jio</title><content type='html'>Here is a Malaysian post!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting really irritated by people saying 'bo jio', like other words are non-existent and everybody must jio everybody when doing something so that people won't complain of not being 'jio-ed'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People usually say this as a joke, but honestly... jokes can get old, boring and irritating too especially when you have poor Hokkien command. And the result of you channeling 'bo jio' to people make people feel bad, stupid albeit regretful for telling the whole world that they are eating the best fish fingers in the world. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Bo jio...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wish lah bo jio you all, end of the world meh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-1071382528876042735?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/1071382528876042735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=1071382528876042735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1071382528876042735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1071382528876042735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/09/bo-jio.html' title='Bo jio'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-1580384516380253255</id><published>2010-09-28T02:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T02:26:21.037-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The best</title><content type='html'>My best friend has been my best friend for over four years now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We still do best friend things. You know... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the usual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not mind if my best friend copies me in buying the same things and/or liking the same things as I, but just not other people in general. Even if we are "just friends". Best friends are meant to copy each other but not "just friends". &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There is a difference.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We meet new people and develop new friendships. And then there are people who think we are jealous of each other's new friendships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not get how your insecurity could lead to such stupidity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend and I know for a fact that we are still friends, no matter what. Even if we are distance apart, we still keep each other in thought by sending random text messages; for example: looking at the moon. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Random, I know but she thought it would be cool to let me know because we would be looking at the same moon, despite being some place else. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are not happy with that, you just have to live with it. Because asking you to piss off would seem too much for your child-like brain to comprehend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;X and O's.&lt;/span&gt;..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-1580384516380253255?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/1580384516380253255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=1580384516380253255' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1580384516380253255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1580384516380253255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/09/best.html' title='The best'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-369231368568329642</id><published>2010-09-21T10:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-30T11:26:04.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What to do</title><content type='html'>Now that the holiday has kicked in, I can do the things I like and not feel "forced" to be studying or anything that will make my life miserable in future. Meh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I will continue to criticise people who dare say that Taylor Swift is a Country goddess. You make Stevie Nicks look bad. How dare you!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I will now say that everybody who hates Justin Beiber are insecure whiners who don't give him the chance. I know, I know. I hated the fact that I was "forced" to like him, and I still think his songs suck but give him a break. He hasn't even reached puberty yet. But if you are a married woman, who is over 25 years old who &lt;a href="http://www.spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/04/respect.html"&gt;irritates people but ended up getting irritated instead cos people share different interests as you&lt;/a&gt;, then you are considered a pedophile, no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I shall read Sherlock Holmes, David Copperfield, and then Sherlock Holmes again. Detective work needs a lot of work. (Okay lah, I just like Sherlock Holmes, okay? Okay.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I shall practice my piano everyday for one hour and more until I bruise all of my ten fingers (this time), &lt;a href="http://www.spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/05/bruised.html"&gt;once more.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. When I feel random (at some point), I shall harp on how backward the mindset of most people, and why  Krispy Kreme, Burger King and for everybody's sake, Carl's Jr must be located in every single state convenient, of this land of the world's best char koay teow, chicken rice balls, blah blah blah..... cendol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I am going to continue to say, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Hey! I want to get that really pretty and huge luggage for only RM8."&lt;/span&gt; (After converting from £2; such a steal from Oxfam.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such epicness. I shall rejoice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-369231368568329642?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/369231368568329642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=369231368568329642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/369231368568329642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/369231368568329642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/09/what-to-do.html' title='What to do'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-2785922622268547943</id><published>2010-08-31T06:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T06:00:52.684-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Merdeka</title><content type='html'>Happy independence day, Malaysia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to say that "Happy birthday Malaysia" is on 16th September, not 31st August. There is a difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is one great country.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-2785922622268547943?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/2785922622268547943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=2785922622268547943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2785922622268547943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2785922622268547943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/08/merdeka.html' title='Merdeka'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-6452293547421407104</id><published>2010-08-11T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-12T04:44:33.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't know</title><content type='html'>I actually feel pretty stupid answering people,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; "I don't know" &lt;/span&gt;when they ask me questions. From some question which I don't bother to answer turns out to be, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I don't know" &lt;/span&gt;actually gives me that sense of self-pity for feeling stupid in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Genuinely is because I really do not know. Or I cannot be bothered to answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, people would ask me what I want to be when I grow up. I tell them,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; "I don't know"&lt;/span&gt; and have that tinge of stupidity shiver down my spine after wards because of the looks and stares I get. (Gee, thanks for the guilt trip.) But I'll tell you why now; because I really do not know and I have a fickle mind. So by saying I didn't know, was not a lie. So don't look too surprise. At least I won't be a clerk typing letters behind a small desk for the rest of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know, giving a short and straight answer like that does not make me feel stupid anymore for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum's friend once asked me, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"But why Debra? Why do you think you are withheld in speech?"&lt;/span&gt; I kept saying, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I don't know" &lt;/span&gt;until it was time for us to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In actual fact, I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;did&lt;/span&gt; know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, Clara Bow was one of the best silent movie actresses in Hollywood of all time back then. All she had to do was looked pretty and she was, even in black and white. Until the talkies started kicking in. Then, she was asked to use the microphone and to start memorising lines from then on. But she had microphone fright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From then on, she had quit show biz and retired at such a young age because she refused to talk. Nobody would be brave enough to do that like her; standing for her beliefs. Even if people were to ask her why she did that when she still had a bright career ahead of her, she would probably say,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; "I don't know"&lt;/span&gt; and stop from there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clara Bow would be too brave to even have a moment to think that her I-don't-know-and-I-don't-care answer was stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was not like Mum's friend would have understood me anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-6452293547421407104?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/6452293547421407104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=6452293547421407104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6452293547421407104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6452293547421407104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-dont-know.html' title='I don&apos;t know'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-4529070777026423736</id><published>2010-07-18T09:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T09:40:16.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People</title><content type='html'>There is a reason why I am anti-social; why I hate people; why I don't bother meeting new friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of them, (which I shall talk about now) are your college mates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who cares about what they think? Who gives a shit? Or two?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate group assignments. I hate working with a bunch of idiots who want to do everything and take the credit and exclude you, and not do anything and say that they cannot find any information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate working with people. I had, and always will be fine working alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this idiocy were to continue, my life will bear no meaning anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not like it meant a heft when this has been ongoing for, gee, I don't know... two and a half years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you'll get a job with reasonable pay you don't deserve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-4529070777026423736?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/4529070777026423736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=4529070777026423736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4529070777026423736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4529070777026423736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/07/people.html' title='People'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-5493887639586463808</id><published>2010-07-08T03:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T07:02:57.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beliefs</title><content type='html'>&lt;small&gt;(Also known as BULP #2. Refer to &lt;a href="http://www.spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/05/haterantwhatever.html"&gt;BULP #1.&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;/small&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contrary to popular belief, people always say Han Chiang College is the stupidest college. Ever. Why? Here is a list of a few reasons I have decided to come up with:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;1. 99.8% of the students are Chinese-educated and speak very poor English.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;2. Same goes to the lecturers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;3. People there are too "lala". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;4. You will die when you work with both stupid (okay lah, they are very lazy but let's just call them stupid) and too competitive people, and your grades may be put in jeopardy anyhow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;5. I have never seen a wall mural (as you enter the grounds of Han Chiang College) so fugly in my life before. It doesn't even deserve to be called a "mural" to begin with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of the all these, especially people who speak very poor English, Han Chiang College is stereotyped to be the stupidest college. Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may sound a bit contradicting, but I am just stating facts and then going on to why people shouldn't look down on that just because of these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, English is important. It IS a universal language that everybody must possess. But don't forget, Chinese language is also equally important. With the rapid development of the Chinese industry and business, it is without a doubt that Chinese is the new language people could possess in order to strive to success in this current era. (Oi, Chinese is one of the official languages in the United Nations ah.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is Han Chiang College stupid? Is it because people prefer to speak Chinese over English? And the only reason you study there is because of the school fees? Really? You would go to a non-profit college with reasonable fees despite the fact the people are, um, not your type? You know, the world turns 360 degrees for 368 days, revolving the sun, NOT you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your whining and complaints about something that had made you contradict yourself, makes you look like some spoilt motherfucker. If you are so rich, get out of this country. Go and study some place else where everybody speaks only English, and not Chinese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laughing at people who speak poor English, and prefer to speak Chinese, does not make you any better. Contradicting yourself, and then going to Han Chiang College just because of its reasonable fees, make you look like an idiot anyway. That is for selling out your beliefs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you could ever go to Oxford/Harvard/Princeton, I will bark like a bitch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-5493887639586463808?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/5493887639586463808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=5493887639586463808' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5493887639586463808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5493887639586463808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/07/beliefs.html' title='Beliefs'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-732324284623007887</id><published>2010-06-20T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T03:31:36.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey Dad, hey.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 369px; height: 372px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs053.ash2/35990_1455746867215_1039646454_31332405_4413924_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my Dad. I call him 'Biffo' sometimes; and he calls me 'sweet pea'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He likes to make funny faces when I take photos of him; and then tells me to show my friends that he can be 'hip', too. Also, he has the best sense of humour in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think he has influenced me to be a history, language and food enthusiast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is the smartest man I know. He can speak five different languages and five different Chinese dialects, write beautiful Chinese calligraphy, share with me Chinese idioms, and remember dates during the Japanese occupation. And no, I am not exaggerating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He hates people who look down on Asians, and gets annoyed with my broken Mandarin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He refers to teenagers these days (who use Blackberry mobile phones) as "stupid potatoes". Because (we all strongly feel that) teenagers these days buy the Blackberry to mainly use Twitter. So, you teenage Blackberry users who are active in Twitter, you are all stupid potatoes - because I doubt you even check your e-mails that often. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oops.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was younger, I used to ask him why did he have to name me 'Debra', of all names. He said, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Because it is a beautiful name. Not very easy to come up with a girl's name. I am better with boys."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Dad, here is a Father's Day post. &lt;s&gt;(Also, I would like the iPhone 4. I promise I will name it 'Frank'.)&lt;/s&gt; :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="result_box" class="short_text"&gt;&lt;span style="" title=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;我愛你.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&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/7445327012596180816-732324284623007887?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/732324284623007887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=732324284623007887' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/732324284623007887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/732324284623007887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/06/hey-dad-hey.html' title='Hey Dad, hey.'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-5417932334702852412</id><published>2010-05-14T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T13:16:22.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgive and forget</title><content type='html'>Have you been hurt by the people you deemed closest to you? Do you find it difficult to let go of the past and carry on with life without feeling any bitterness in you? &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There really isn't any use of bringing up the past. What's done is done.. However, I find it a burden to accept people who have hurt me in the past. The fact about them (schoolmates for instance) is that, they act as though nothing had ever happened and start befriending you, i.e. adding you to Facebook and start talking to you like nothing ever happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I have forgiven but not exactly forgotten. I learnt that, the power of forgiveness is a vital lesson one has to possess. It is hard but whoever said life was easy to begin with anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I apologise because I find it a burden to befriend people who treated me like shit in the past. Just forget about me and please don't ever think of becoming my friend. Treat me as invisible like you always did, take integrity in that. I rather know new people than become your friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you do not believe this, it is alright. But I am quite sure you will understand one day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-5417932334702852412?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/5417932334702852412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=5417932334702852412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5417932334702852412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5417932334702852412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/05/forgive-and-forget.html' title='Forgive and forget'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-5128897100179017867</id><published>2010-05-09T00:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T03:25:09.089-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother's love</title><content type='html'>There are just so much that goes on in my life, that it is almost impossible to remember everything in detail. Luckily, I tend to remember the lot and have decided to share my personal favourites and how my Mum's endless love for me had soldiered on throughout my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was three, Mum took me to my first ballet class and told me, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Look at those little girls dancing the Little Mermaid!"&lt;/span&gt; From then on, I made believe that I was a mermaid and danced around the whole house. Noticing my grown fondness of the Little Mermaid, Mum bought me Ariel, Flounder and Sebastian stickers and anything Little Mermaid, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was five, Mum and Dad took me to my first music lesson and told me I would be fine, no matter what. However, I am not too fond of Mum forcing me to play 'Tears in Heaven' because she likes it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 12, Mum sew ribbons to my ballet shoes because I wanted what Anna Pavlova was wearing (minus the pointes). I have only worn them twice to classes and refused to wear it again because they were so precious to me and I did not want to get them dirty. Eventually, I wore them again and it made me so happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I had accomplished something, Mum always told me that she was proud of me, no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I am parading my Mother's love because nobody would ever sacrifice so much for me and would also force me to play sad songs on the piano, like her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Happy Mothers' Day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;small&gt;(No BULP for this one.)&lt;/small&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-5128897100179017867?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/5128897100179017867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=5128897100179017867' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5128897100179017867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5128897100179017867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/05/mothers-love.html' title='Mother&apos;s love'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-7531386219957081412</id><published>2010-05-08T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T00:13:40.427-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BULP #1</title><content type='html'>In each new post from this one onwards (till I do not know which one, until I say something about it), I shall post one thing of what I loathe. Like a list, but a taking-it-slowly-broken-up sort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just call it the "Broken up list project", or "BULP".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were to write the entire list in one go, you would probably whine of its irrelevance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For BULP, I am not going to bother if I offend anyone because if people were to take it out just because they feel threatened, I am not going to care either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's take this post (title) as the introductory stage of BULP. So, here goes the first one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;I hate girls who call themselves fat when they are not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, you are fat and the idea of your endless complaints about it has finally sunk in. You must be glad there are people who agree with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you die of anorexia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your attempt in reverse psychology is a failure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/7445327012596180816-7531386219957081412?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/7531386219957081412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=7531386219957081412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7531386219957081412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7531386219957081412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/05/haterantwhatever.html' title='BULP #1'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-6632166722030498169</id><published>2010-04-27T01:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T07:25:04.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ruhe</title><content type='html'>You know when you are a boring person when you have nothing else to say. The whole idea of feeling "left out" and then stirring up rumours for your own entertainment is moronic and pretty selfish, don't you think? Moreover, picking on a random person (whether it is through your very own "lucky draw" that you picked the person to spread rumours about), or you do not have any other hobby because you simply do not have a natural flair of talent at anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judging the way the person walks, talks or even blogs does not show that you know everything about the person. For example: Do you truly know who my favourite author is? Can you tell which author inspired me to write this way? Do you even know my views on why I think people are stupid enough to think that Taiwan is not part of China when it still is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, a person cusses or says things in negative ways that make you think that the person is not a good example or let's just say, wild. Of course, people do stupid things when they are angry (whether or not others were the cause behind the angst) but not all the time. If I like or dislike  something, I'll just be truthful about it and not live a life full of pretense saying otherwise. And if you feel guilty just because of the way I blog, it simply means your attitude is as smelly as 80 pairs of old shoes from World War II and it is time you had some attitude adjustments rather than come up with words like calling the person "wild".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, I will just say this; it shows your shallow intelligence and how much integrity you have just to say things you simply assume. God did not make anybody a judge. If you dislike the person just because of the way he or she is, so be it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and if you have not, read up on the book of Ezekiel in the Bible already:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Spread false prophecy, and you shall be killed."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By that time, I'll feel very shiok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-6632166722030498169?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/6632166722030498169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=6632166722030498169' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6632166722030498169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6632166722030498169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/04/silence-is-golden.html' title='Ruhe'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-6068013954851095749</id><published>2010-04-13T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T10:07:13.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shape of an arch</title><content type='html'>You know you are Chinese, and you do not know how to speak a word of Chinese and people tease you to be a "banana"; Yellow on the outside, white on the inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not brilliant in the Chinese language, but at least I am not completely lost at it. I think it is quite shameful for a person, regardless of any ethnicity, to not know his/her mother tongue. But hey, at least we still have English ;p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the term "banana" bares another meaning too. Yellow on the outside and white on the inside still, nonetheless; but to put it in my point of view - Asians who speak with some fake Western accent because they look like what they are on the outside, but the moment when they talk, it is just like another episode of Laguna Beach. Let's not go to the part when they see Caucasians like gods, minus the episode of Laguna Beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do not degrade yourself by being someone you are not. It does not prove you to be high class or the fact that you have received the finest education to speak that way. The joke? Wearing coloured contact lenses to top that off. Maybe wearing coloured contact lens is all in the name of your choice of style and fashion, but come on. Asians wearing coloured contact lens and speaking with a fake Western accent? Epic fail. (Wouldn't make you any more natural speaking normally but still wearing coloured contact lens that do not suit you.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may or may not be classed as a "banana" but it just shows how much integrity you have to try so hard to be someone you are not and never will be, and that you turn yourself into nothing but a big joke. Would be one heck of a laugh anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Maybe it is because potassium is necessary for the function of everything that has breath.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I strongly feel that people who fake any Western accent should have their jaws dislocated. So that we could all watch Western films (the real deal, of course) without feeling disturbed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a tip though. Please do not try too hard by speaking like that when you visit/study somewhere Western. Very high possibility that you will scare all the Caucasians out of their own country speaking like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-6068013954851095749?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/6068013954851095749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=6068013954851095749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6068013954851095749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6068013954851095749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/04/shape-of-arch.html' title='Shape of an arch'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-6102705223442389054</id><published>2010-04-12T03:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T07:46:32.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bobba fun</title><content type='html'>Happy 21st birthday to &lt;a href="http://www.chattylass.blogspot.com/"&gt;Melissa&lt;/a&gt;, or better known as William W. Williams. Her middle name is now known to be Woolsworth. (Not in any relation to Waddlesworth.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, Colin Severus Alfie, have decided that her middle name be as such, for the W. has bore it's anonymity for a year now. Yes, I have the right, for I have decided to call her Triple W, in honour of the Chewabubba Woggabubba Bobba Club (along with Fredward von Frederick and Esteban de la Sanchez - and also some other extra people who were named A. Apple Apples and Yellow Mellow for some not-exactly-related-Bobba fun.) from the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, her face nearly got caked! (Fredward and I do no such things in public, apart from smelling our feet.) Due to nodding too much in sleepiness and the fact that the cake was right in front.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point, she finds chickens extremely annoying but savours them (because she never eats beef), nevertheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May you continue to age with grace and beauty, and never succumb to wearing heavy make up to look like a&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; tong tong chiang. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you buckets, my friend! I look forward to our growing friendship as the years go by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Yes, I am aware that 'bobba' could also mean bubbles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-6102705223442389054?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/6102705223442389054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=6102705223442389054' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6102705223442389054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6102705223442389054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/04/bobba-fun.html' title='Bobba fun'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-2877184356870661261</id><published>2010-04-05T01:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T04:16:01.889-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Respect</title><content type='html'>There are just some people who just never accept the fact that certain things are stupid according to other people (when asked, mind you) and just flip at the fact that it is like an apocalyptic comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, it was &lt;a href="http://www.spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/01/taylor-swift-cult.html"&gt;Taylor Swift.&lt;/a&gt; And now, it is Justin Beiber. Again, I do apologise if you're in love with him and have a death wish of marrying him (and the fact that I feel sorry for you that you expect the impossible), till death do you part but my opinions on him, are very similar to Taylor Swift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the same girl who worships Taylor Swift, asked me what I thought of Justin Beiber. It is like she is looking for nothing but an argument by the end of the day just because people do not share the same interest of music like she does. People have better music to listen to, okay!? I can put Keane on shuffle and never get bored because their lyrics are not stupid and at least have the nostalgic feeling, and are not confessions of getting dumped by their girlfriends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Obsessed Fan: OMG Have you listened to Justin Beiber's song??? It's so nice!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;ME: I don't like it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;OF: Why not?? He didn't do anything to you also. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Oh no, I was being harassed by a celebrity, yet again.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;ME: Because I just don't like it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;OF: Why not!!?? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;(Walao. Just because I say I don't like his songs, means you must throw tantrum at me odi is it!!??)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;ME: Cos I've got better music to listen to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;OF: You don't have to be so rude okay? You must still respect other people's feelings and interest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are you telling me to respect your feelings and interest? And I'm being told to respect people who never wore Alexander McQueen, or even ever had dreadlocks; and being told that I'm rude for saying I do not like the same person as you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry, but I find it hard to respect people with childish interest which would be a phase of little children who are not even teenagers yet to obsess over people like that, of which they will one day get over with; for a grown person like you. I know there really isn't a point in growing up when you can't afford to be childish sometimes but get over the fact that we share nothing in common for goodness sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Screw this. I'm going to ogle on my new earphones now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-2877184356870661261?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/2877184356870661261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=2877184356870661261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2877184356870661261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2877184356870661261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/04/respect.html' title='Respect'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-9009948358994804096</id><published>2010-04-04T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T00:20:21.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fairy Easter</title><content type='html'>It is a minute past yesterday and I feel boring just by saying a simple hello and starting off a paragraph like a girl selling flowers. OMG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess what? My baby sister and I composed a reindeer song. I think it is cute and meaningful, because I helped write most of it. What an accomplished feeling, as if I was really doing song writing for a living from now on. Oh bother, the paper is inked with pink coloured lyrics; albeit a long one and based on the lyrics (well, sort of), it would be nice if it was Country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a short lived time, my baby sister and I were mermaids named Purple and Pink. I was Purple, so shut up. We had to swim away from Madgirl and her evil friends because they (supposedly) capture mermaids and imprison them in humongous fish tanks forever. (How sad!) We had to swim in an oval (rather than a circle) to create an underwater black hole so that evils like Madgirl will be sucked right into it the minute she hurts any sea creatures. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;/No dugong and squid affair in 'Mermaid World', kthnx.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I succumb to a seven-year-old's world sometimes. But just to be fair, we played Scrabble and talked about technology. Yes, laptops, mobiles, game consoles, iPods; in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt; world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wished I was making this up (because you wouldn't have believed me and my previous paragraphs about being a mermaid named Purple or that she'd talk geek for a Year 2) but no. Plus, nobody would've believed I could actually "hang out" with a seven-year-old and play make believe with. But you know, there really isn't a point in growing up if you can't afford to be childish sometimes. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;/Defensive of pretending to be a mermaid. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my baby sister is a darling but I'm still not sharing my Kinder Surprise. *eatchocolateeatchocolateeatchocolateeatchocolateatchocolateeatchocolate*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.s. I realised I am a bit of a sci-fi geek. And I don't know where this paragraph came from. (I suspect it is Tardis-related.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I think the title of this post is cute! It reminds me of when I was doing Fairy Ballet when I was three. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;/Uh-oh, a bit Tardis-related there too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Anyway, a blessed Easter to all. May you get heaps of chocolate eggs. Nommmm..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&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/7445327012596180816-9009948358994804096?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/9009948358994804096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=9009948358994804096' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/9009948358994804096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/9009948358994804096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/04/fairy-world.html' title='Fairy Easter'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-760110878525722456</id><published>2010-03-07T10:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T10:33:34.742-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whole bunch of it</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xTubvMDD6Og/S5PxVb6JQYI/AAAAAAAAAIg/vIQUPbQz20Q/s320/bullshit1.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445961724992242050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why like that :(&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/7445327012596180816-760110878525722456?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/760110878525722456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=760110878525722456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/760110878525722456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/760110878525722456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/03/whole-bunch-of-it.html' title='Whole bunch of it'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xTubvMDD6Og/S5PxVb6JQYI/AAAAAAAAAIg/vIQUPbQz20Q/s72-c/bullshit1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-3155635414045363826</id><published>2010-02-24T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T01:01:05.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear friend</title><content type='html'>My friend, I am sorry for my long blog posts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my other friend said that I should stick to writing long sentences because she likes reading. (Lame excuse, I know. But I do prefer writing long sentences sometimes, myself.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just have a lot to say. (Well you can't blame me for being creative, eh? - No coughing allowed, I just stated the obvious first. You can agree with me later when you realise. Never too late :D)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You say it would be cool if I added photos to my posts. Truth be told, I really do not like to be seen as common since everybody else needs visuals to explain how their days past. (I guess they are mediocre bloggers, but &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;chi lang chi lang bo siang&lt;/span&gt;, right?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I think it would be cool if I posted a photo or two once in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, I have one condition; take the effort to read lah. Not so hard what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you're still my friend no matter what. (Not exactly "going with the flow" of this post, but the latter was nothing but the truth.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. I guess I have revealed the slight goodness in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we promised to "keep each other all to ourselves", but I'd just share this memorable criticism we shared not too long ago:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;ME: Eh....&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU: I know. That girl walking pass looks like a dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;My over usage of brackets must be controlled. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&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/7445327012596180816-3155635414045363826?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/3155635414045363826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=3155635414045363826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/3155635414045363826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/3155635414045363826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/02/dear-friend.html' title='Dear friend'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-7714710328203951051</id><published>2010-02-21T02:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T02:58:53.004-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Understanding</title><content type='html'>What irritates me is when I watch a non-English speaking programme, people must comment, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Of all programmes, you have to watch this. It's not like you're a local over there, and understand what they are talking about."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That is why there are subtitles, arse wipes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I would just like to say, if you are not a Caucasian, why do you watch Caucasian-made programmes ala Hollywood? Can you not watch a local-made one? So what if you think local-made films are a bore or do not make sense, but it's not like Hollywood make any sense ever since the 21st century kicked in; I mean, come on. All they do is plagiarise British films and remake a 98% similar one with different actors ala &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'Death at a Funeral'&lt;/span&gt;; and God-forbid, Metro Station (of all any other better bands) playing the theme song for &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'Alice in Wonderland'.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But as if you could understand what they are going on about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care if it's English-speaking that counts, but why not a Malaysian, watch a Malaysian-made film instead? Why watch Hollywood-made films when you're not even from Hollywood?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Likewise, I prefer to watch non-English speaking programmes (sometimes) CAN OR NOT!!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what if I watch a non-English speaking programme? I really hate it when someone else comments, or let alone criticise other people's interests. Hey, you've got your opinions but I did not ask you to criticise my taste of interest. I didn't even say anything about your &lt;a href="http://www.spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/01/taylor-swift-cult.html"&gt;idol worshiping towards Taylor Swift,&lt;/a&gt; so shut the hell up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not very understanding of you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-7714710328203951051?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/7714710328203951051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=7714710328203951051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7714710328203951051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7714710328203951051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/02/understanding.html' title='Understanding'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-263563901487102923</id><published>2010-02-12T03:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T03:36:53.369-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vitiligo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 418px; height: 78px;" src="http://img690.imageshack.us/img690/5215/mjvitiligo1.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;small&gt;Source: http://twitter.com/dawnyang1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/small&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See? What did I &lt;a href="http://www.spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/09/curious.html"&gt;tell&lt;/a&gt; you, bitches??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we shouldn't exactly trust every word Dawn says *coughsnoplasticsurgeryliecoughs*, but who would lie when it comes to MJ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-263563901487102923?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/263563901487102923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=263563901487102923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/263563901487102923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/263563901487102923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/02/vitiligo.html' title='Vitiligo'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-6185119537819129862</id><published>2010-02-08T08:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T23:00:41.907-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Glücklich sachen</title><content type='html'>Gelesen, wenn du diesen tagge verstehen und tun, wenn du wünschen. Bitte nicht kopie und paste für den grund von wißen, was Ich gerade über blog. Es ist beleidigt und dumm von dich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sowïso, vor kurzem, meine liebling freund von Bristol, Maxwell, hab tagge mir im Facebook, über dinge was machen mir glücklich. Abgesehen von meiner üblichen blogging art, Ich tue dies für eine änderung (und zusammenfaßung zu meinem alten blog nächstes mal Ich der weisen wieder :p)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hier 10 Dinge, die mich glücklich machen:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;1. Gummi &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;bären.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;2. Musik und tanzen, felsen an.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;3. Blog im Deutsch wenn Ich bin im der stimmung.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;4. Bitten, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Wo ist meine marzipan!?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;5. Unterlaßung Bavaria (L).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;6. Sprechen im Deutsch mit Stefan, und Maxwell auch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;7. Gute filme und musik.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;8. Schön fotos von begabte fotografen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;9. Kinder? Nein, nein.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;10. Gut.... Ich hab vergeßene dieses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"&gt;&lt;span class="on" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Bold" title="Bold" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 3);ButtonMouseDown(this);"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Bold" class="gl_bold" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicht zu ernst genommen werden, aber alles ist gut und trüei.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maxwell, danke für nichts. Aber es war von ihnen dich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Again) Please &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;do not&lt;/span&gt; copy and paste and asked me whether I just blogged such and such. Translating sites are not accurate. It is irritating and I do not wish to be affiliated with morons, thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-6185119537819129862?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/6185119537819129862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=6185119537819129862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6185119537819129862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6185119537819129862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/02/glucklich-sachen.html' title='Glücklich sachen'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-4334135405706564066</id><published>2010-02-01T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T07:10:12.234-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Attitude</title><content type='html'>In every ballerina's aspect, poise and attitude are equally important. From the way she carries herself, dances, and even walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, the thing about other people is, they just like to say things about you, even if they do not even know who you are. They will say that you are a proud person and that you are not worth knowing. I guess it's quite flattering when other people take notice of your existence, but not so great when they think otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People see ballerinas as the snobbish, too-good-for-you figures, and think that they're too good for you to befriend with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, this is how we, ballerinas are to you. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sarcasm. &lt;/span&gt;*cough*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is important for us to have that particular posture that could (morbidly) actually decide our whole dancing career. Do you know how difficult it is to get into Royal Academy of Dance London or Julliard without any of that attitude?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I guess we can't seem to help ourselves from the way we walk and carry ourselves, even outside class itself. I guess it's already in us to walk like that. Others who do not know, will misunderstand and think we are proud people. Come on, what would you think about a person, who happens to dance ballet but (let's say) you are not in the know of that, slouches like a potato; would you say the person has low-self esteem and is (also) proud and anti-social that others are actually not good enough to be her friend? And if you did know about her past time, would you even dare say that the person is not good enough to dance ballet, just because she slouches like a potato?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the people who cleverly overused the word 'proud' and blindly stereotype - particularly - ballerinas to be that way. Dancers, be it a tap dancer, street dancer, ballerina, hip hoper, jazz dancer, modern dancer or lyrical dancer, are fun people. &lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;While we dance, we cannot judge, hate, or even separate ourselves from life. We can only be joyful and whole. That is why we dance. Perhaps you could do the same, even if you have two left feet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We dance to express, not impress. Mind your attitude; you ain't seen nothing yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And then I end with a double pirouette and balance en pointé and beam with pride until the curtain closes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-4334135405706564066?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/4334135405706564066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=4334135405706564066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4334135405706564066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4334135405706564066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/02/attitude.html' title='Attitude'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-4366421301221926351</id><published>2010-01-24T06:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T07:18:30.645-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Taylor Swift cult</title><content type='html'>Unlike many, I actually do not like Taylor Swift. I do not know why, but I just don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think her music is mediocre and her lyrics are tacky and childish. I do not get that special feeling when I listen to her songs, even. Perhaps some of the beats in some of her songs are catchy (with help).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I carry on, I wish that you do not take it out on me just because most of you are deeply in love with Taylor Swift. If you did, keep in mind I actually respect your choice of music. I am not saying that people have bad taste for liking her. I respect your opinions, and it would be nice if you respect mine in return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, once upon a time, I was asked by my friends whether I liked her. Saying that I do not like her, another person (who wasn't exactly my friend, thank God), started to rape me to death; asking me what did Taylor Swift ever done to me, that I hated her so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, hate is such a strong word. I didn't say I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;hated&lt;/span&gt; her, I just said I didn't &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;like&lt;/span&gt; her (as a musician). Big difference, you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Cult Follower: Why do you not like her?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME: I just don't like her music, and I don't think her lyrics make sense.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;CF: Do you know her personally?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME: No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;CF: So how can you hate her?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME: I didn't say I hate her. Just dislike her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;CF: But what did she ever do to you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME: Do you even know her personally to say wonders about her?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;CF: You still can't say that you don't like her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Because Beyonce had the best video of all time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know when Kanye West interrupted, I actually felt rather bad for Taylor Swift. Yes, I did. Though, on the other hand, I thought he had a good point. Not cos I dislike the latter as a musician.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, go ahead. Become part of Taylor Swift's PR team for all I care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you never run out of wonders to talk about her, join a cult instead. Though, I doubt she'd even know your existence to even appreciate your little cult. Boo hoo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-4366421301221926351?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/4366421301221926351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=4366421301221926351' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4366421301221926351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4366421301221926351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/01/taylor-swift-cult.html' title='The Taylor Swift cult'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-2154363928519390603</id><published>2010-01-20T00:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T02:52:40.714-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I remember</title><content type='html'>I remember we used to play almost everyday when we were little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember sharing sweets with you and you always said they were the best you ever had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember we laughed and teased the little girl opposite for speaking broken Mandarin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember you teased me for having a weird English name (when it's not).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember you always called me by my Chinese name instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember calling you a stupid loser, and made you cry because you told your sisters not to play with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember hating you so much for asking me to go out to play whenever I had to do my homework.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the challenges we gave each other, to see who was stronger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember you always interrupted your sisters and I whenever we were playing together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember treating you like my little brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of these will stay in my memory and I shall remember the times we laughed, cried and played together, and just living our lives to the fullest. Although, we have not talked to each other anymore as the years went by, your death gave me quite a fright. Your presence will be missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May your soul rest in peace, Chiah Zi Jun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mourn the loss of the other victims of this ordeal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-2154363928519390603?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/2154363928519390603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=2154363928519390603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2154363928519390603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2154363928519390603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-remember.html' title='I remember'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-8478367732615767693</id><published>2010-01-19T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T02:37:56.274-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>I get annoyed when I ask people (really, just anyone) a simple question, like (for example) &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Do you listen to Coldplay?"&lt;/span&gt;, they go, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Uh... WHY???!!"&lt;/span&gt; with some suspicious tone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find it annoying because you must make things more difficult for me to give you a reason. And why must I give a reason to feed your "Why?" to begin with? Bugger, I asked you a straight forward question, I would like a straight forward answer dammit! I am the one asking questions over here, okay!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't mind if you asked me why, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;after&lt;/span&gt; answering my question first. If it was an interrogation to begin with, I swear I will shoot you in the head because you have no guts to just answer a harmless question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you done something wrong that you must ask "Why?" before answering a simple question? And what is wrong if you like/dislike Coldplay that you must jump up from your seat asking why, followed by countless question marks????????????????? (Not necessarily a subject relating to music or anything Coldplay-related, really. Other things included.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not like I would actually want to know how you live your life to fulfill my nose poking activities anyway. It is just a simple, and (I dare add) friendly question just to strike a conversation. People have other better people to ask, and even better, get a straight forward reply than asking something, and then being asked back like some baboon. I don't know if this is your ways of being "friendly" to begin with or to "make the conversations longer". Stupid idiots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friendly approach has (somewhat) expired since 2008, and I'd like to keep it that way; except to people I like. It is not my fault you call me proud because you just like to piss people off to begin with. If not, then I just don't like your face. Period. (Defensive of being anti-social.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't mind me. I don't live to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;question&lt;/span&gt; questions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-8478367732615767693?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/8478367732615767693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=8478367732615767693' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/8478367732615767693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/8478367732615767693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/01/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-6046318075816056582</id><published>2010-01-15T08:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T23:21:14.012-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Overused</title><content type='html'>I cannot stand the fact that people like to overuse some (considered) abbreviation to feed their laziness. &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;For example: Saying "preggers" or "prego" instead of "pregnant".&lt;/span&gt; Do not degrade yourself by saying lazy abbreviations which you think are "cool". &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;They are not. &lt;/span&gt;They are just plain stupid, and getting overrated because everybody these days tend to overuse those.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the other overused acronyms these days is, "FML". It makes my teeth clench when I see people these days end every one of their sentences with FML. We got it the first time, you do not have to repeat yourself that you live a lie. Your life sucks, so what??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, people spelling "prolly" instead of "probably". It is&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; not&lt;/span&gt; a short form of the latter. It's not even pronounced as how it should be, even in short form. Please spell it as how it is being pronounced, be it in short form. It's actually very irritating to talk to people with low IQ, which also applies to people having the mentality that "reckon" is short form for "recommend". They are both different words and each holds different meanings. Just because they sound almost alike, it does not mean they are the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and one last thing. Please have some originality in your writing rather than copying someone else's style. We already have one. We do not need the other. And that is not your inspiration. Being inspired does not mean copy+paste, like what most monkey butts always do. Just like an idiot and a moron. A moron is more idiotic than an idiot, like how most morons are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-6046318075816056582?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/6046318075816056582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=6046318075816056582' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6046318075816056582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6046318075816056582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/01/overused.html' title='Overused'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-1905292965384731134</id><published>2010-01-13T10:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T10:48:24.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like, literally</title><content type='html'>There is this strange thing, that blogging is only necessary here when there is agitation. I swear, I'm not usually like that; Maybe I am but with a good reason. And also being just anti-social and observant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not like anybody would take a shit or two with what's really going on in my life. I think it's pretty stupid of people to just pour their hearts' desire of their poor love lives or exciting ones that they even take photos together (forever) in every possible angle, and also who they hung out with and what they ate that made it so LOL worthy until something got stuck in their teeth (like anyone would give a fuck), on their public blogs because they treat it like their diaries. I thought all this love-sob, puppy love shit are meant to be private like how most teenagers would write in their personal diaries. But hey, I do admit they can get pretty interesting sometimes and funny because girl-loves-boy-but-boy-already-has-a-girlfriend-and-girl-starts-stating-love-quotes-&lt;br /&gt;everywhere-that-say-"When-will-you-ever-love-me-?-I'll-always-wait-for-you", that sort of crap that may or may not interest everyone; doesn't mean it's always interesting. Nobody needs to know EVERYTHING, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New year, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;second&lt;/span&gt; new post of the year. (Well, I couldn't resist the first one because people just wouldn't leave the conversations I share with my friends, be.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to attending halls of which people who actually bother to impart knowledge. (Most of them being monotonous and makes everything more will-losing of life. Not nice at all.) Something about Han Chiang College's environment makes things so uneasy. I mean, when it gets pack with people, it just agitates you to find a proper place to sit (Being clean and not occupied, thanks.) and as the venue grows with people, you just want to die of claustrophobia. It's just like a reflex action. Otherwise, if you enjoy getting all the attention and being in the presence of everybody else, in which your existence would most likely diminish since there will be too many people, some haven't bathe for days. Har har *points at you*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing about everybody (Well, let's say 98%. My approx.) here is that they will die if they depart with their friends. Yes, till death do them part. I wish them all the best in life. And when they go their separate ways, they start crying and claim home sickness. Boo hoo. Sorry, no heart to pity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many empty vessels in my college too, which really makes me want to physically hurt them. Like taking my shoe to slap them hard on the face, but it seems to be getting old since I always fancy the thought of slapping someone I don't like with my shoe. Literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some, try to fit in to look popular, and hoping that the whole student body will add him/her to Facebook. Others, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;try&lt;/span&gt; to fit in too, by hanging out with the ones who yearn to be popular, and laugh at every lame joke that are as lose as an old cockerel. I wonder why some other people would bother to laugh along when it was never funny to begin with. (Guessing there are many other people hoping to be popular too. Or don't understand anything and just laugh along so they won't look stupid.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OMG, if things were the other way round, it would be so LOL. Literally.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-1905292965384731134?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/1905292965384731134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=1905292965384731134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1905292965384731134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1905292965384731134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/01/why-rant.html' title='Like, literally'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-7627289254098907511</id><published>2010-01-06T10:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T10:13:06.867-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Translate</title><content type='html'>Whenever I converse to my friends in a foreign language that we happened to be familiar with (and others are not), other people tend to wonder what we talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's fine if you wonder what my friends and I talk about but the least you could do is just leave us be, and not copy and paste our conversation into any translating site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Translating sites can be pretty useful, but please keep in mind that they are not accurate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What right do you have to actually go to any translating website and translate the conversations my friends and I exchange over the internet and (if you were to do so), ask us if what you have translated is right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, you think we shouldn't write everything on the internet, but it is our wish to converse in any foreign language we want, other than English, and you have no right to intrude in our privacy and actually wonder what we talk about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care if you want to "learn new languages" but copying and pasting other's conversations and knowing for your own nose poking activities, does not show that you're interested in the language we're conversing in; it just plain shows that you have no other hobby, than succumb to doing childish activities like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure this is not so hard to understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the Germans go "Fick dich", which means &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fuck you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, fuck you for intruding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, something new for you to learn, if interested.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-7627289254098907511?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/7627289254098907511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=7627289254098907511' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7627289254098907511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7627289254098907511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2010/01/translate.html' title='Translate'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-3949266331448738939</id><published>2009-12-25T12:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T01:13:14.328-07:00</updated><title type='text'>2009</title><content type='html'>Dear all,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from the routinised criticism that rolls about in Spenchyy, I would like to wish everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been (a little bit - maybe a lot) harsh this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, maybe it is because people deserved it. I won't disagree with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps for one of your 2010 resolutions, you can state that you "want to be a better person". It would make everyone's life easier. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Just a suggestion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This shall be my last, not-at-all-okay-maybe-just-a-little harsh post of 2009.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 2010.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-3949266331448738939?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/3949266331448738939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=3949266331448738939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/3949266331448738939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/3949266331448738939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/12/2009.html' title='2009'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-7804996369790402925</id><published>2009-12-21T22:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T22:06:38.727-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflection</title><content type='html'>In order to improve, you need to face critiques and comments to evolve from a caterpillar to a butterfly. But the thing about people is, they cannot take corrections because they think they are so good and when someone tells them the truth, they get offended. (And these are the people who quote, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I don't care what you say about me"&lt;/span&gt; crap.) (See? Told you that they actually &lt;a href="http://http//spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/10/cowards.html"&gt;do care.&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The joke is, when someone critiques their work, they say, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You should look at yourself in the mirror cos if you were so great, you wouldn't be talking crap about me."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since when were critiques about one's work, crap about one instead?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mirror?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry (for your childish mind to comprehend) that you cannot take corrections, and what you do is always right (just gives it all away in your crappy work), &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;do not&lt;/span&gt; even state that you "accept critiques", in the first place. What? It never came across your mind that critiques could be harsh? Only professionals can critique your work? Do you even think that Simon Cowell would even bother to look at your work for a mere second?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moreover, I feel sorry that your term of "look yourself in the mirror", does not seem to apply much to what you want to hear. I also feel sorry that your metaphoric construction is an epic failure. (Applies to your crappy work, too.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops. Gonna ask me to&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; look in the mirror&lt;/span&gt; again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get some attitude adjustments then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you weren't so sensitive, perhaps you could be a better person in future, and people might actually &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hire&lt;/span&gt; you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is if their mindset of "nice" is the same as yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No need to feel that this post is about you. It is blogged in general, but I preferred to use "you" to make it less complicating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If there were any offenses regarding "you", &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;look yourself in the mirror&lt;/span&gt; then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-7804996369790402925?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/7804996369790402925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=7804996369790402925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7804996369790402925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7804996369790402925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/12/reflection.html' title='Reflection'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-3353828493181884071</id><published>2009-12-10T23:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T04:42:38.776-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mac vs. Windows</title><content type='html'>I do not get why must Mac users look down on Windows users. I am going to take several wild guesses because it seems to be never ending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, it is because they think Americans use it, that is why it has to be "cool". It is because majority of the Americans are using it. Even their laptops are in movies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, it is crazy expensive in Malaysia. They think that they are gods, carrying Apple products because they can afford it while many others cannot. And they must bring their MacBooks everywhere they go; and when they were to, let's just say, hang around in Starbucks, they&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; have&lt;/span&gt; to sit &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;outside&lt;/span&gt; where &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;everybody &lt;/span&gt;passes by, and their laptops&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; have&lt;/span&gt; to face the crowd. So that everyone can see how stupendous the Apple logo is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they want to boast in their blogs, they take several screen shots of them having a conversation with a friend, or whatever "amazing" Facebook status that their friends post, that happened to be oh-so inspirational, and what's not. (Not to be mistaken to taking screen shots of something relevant like, how to navigate about when you're an Apple n00b, and something like that.) I understand you want to post whatever you want on your blogs but taking screen shots of your conversation which seems so irrelevant, and posting them publicly, shows your level of maturity is really low, and that you can succumb to talking like a brainless child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the joke? They go on saying Windows suck because it cannot do what the Mac can do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, yes. I know your photo booth application is the best in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did Apple make you an ambassador or something to list every con of Windows that Mac is an insufferable flawless invention that ever existed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I am an ambassador for Windows itself, but it just makes me wonder why people can be so narrow-minded to say that Windows suck and Apple is the best in the world. Have you no other goals in your life, that Apple is narrowed down to be the best in&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; your&lt;/span&gt; world?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a Windows user now, but have used two of the older versions (&lt;a href="http://www.switchstories.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/imac-10years.jpg"&gt;older&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.chandrakantha.com/articles/indian_music/filmi_sangeet/media/1984_macintosh2.jpg"&gt;oldest&lt;/a&gt;) of the Macintosh when I was younger, and I was sad when my older Macintosh died on me because it was one of the best birthday-cum-Christmas presents I've ever received.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take it from me, I find both Windows and Mac to have their differences (in a good way) and I could spend hours on the internet, and Photoshop using both platforms. No hair pulling, nose cringing, or teeth clenching moments for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both Windows and Mac have their differences. If you were to keep harping on how much Windows suck just because you use a Mac now, it is probably your first time owning something expensive. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Just saying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-3353828493181884071?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/3353828493181884071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=3353828493181884071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/3353828493181884071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/3353828493181884071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/12/mac-vs-windows.html' title='Mac vs. Windows'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-4826622208261074872</id><published>2009-12-09T08:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T08:47:28.427-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No, thank you</title><content type='html'>I hate the fact when you (politely) reject an invitation, or some group to be a fan of in Facebook, your friend tends to resend it to you for God-knows-how-many-times. I reckon it is because they think that I will accept the invitation in the end because I am left with no choice. (BAH.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So hear, hear. This is why your directions in life are not going as planned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Your group is NOT worth being a fan of, okay? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I have rejected not once, but . . . . . . . . . . . . . . &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ten&lt;/span&gt; times of the same invite, it means I am not interested, and never will be. Is that not obvious enough to comprehend? So, stop with the desperation. Please bug someone else for all I care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't care if you have the mindset of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You won't regret joining this group"&lt;/span&gt;; the thing is I am not interested to begin with, so I have nothing to regret in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say I hate being invited several times to the same old crap, I bloody mean it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-4826622208261074872?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/4826622208261074872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=4826622208261074872' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4826622208261074872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4826622208261074872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/12/no-thank-you.html' title='No, thank you'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-7863620452785840769</id><published>2009-11-26T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T05:31:36.585-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you believe?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Time flies by so quickly...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quoting this before it becomes too cliché (again) by the end of the year, when everyone starts blogging, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"OMG! It's going to be 2010! Time flies!",&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Just a blink of an eye, the year has ended."&lt;/span&gt; I know because almost everybody quotes that, and I am just re-quoting them now, as examples, and nothing more. Cliché.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, how sick is the world "coming to an end" on the 21st of December 2012 (21/12/12)? It's just like saying the day of 9th of September 2009 (09/09/09), brought people luck. Or any distinctive days which happened to have the exact same numbers; just arranged, in this matter of apocalyptic speaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing about movies like these, worry the crap out of the everybody (especially the ones with the never ending cliché blogging) that an apocalypse is just a few years away, not even enough to sum up a decade. And the quote, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"The world is not a safe place anymore"&lt;/span&gt;, starts kicking in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jennifer Lopez portrayed a victim of abuse when her co-star husband decided to take advantage of her in the film, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'Enough'&lt;/span&gt;. Did that bother anyone that this could be the sign that the world is not a safe place anymore? Husbands abusing their wives for their own sadistic pleasures?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just stirs curiosity on why people tend to harp on something that they are not even sure of, just because they heard rumours of it being proven for some vague promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody knows anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop spreading false prophecy on 2012 (the year, not the movie) as an apocalyptic issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What? When time flies again, fast forwarding to 2012, would you quote, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"2012 already! The year of doom!"&lt;/span&gt;??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were to, you can just die alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-7863620452785840769?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/7863620452785840769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=7863620452785840769' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7863620452785840769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7863620452785840769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/11/do-you-believe.html' title='Do you believe?'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-4663387792463721897</id><published>2009-11-23T00:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T22:23:22.594-08:00</updated><title type='text'>College</title><content type='html'>I have been asked where I go to college. And the responses I get after replying would be,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; "Of all colleges, you have to be in THAT one."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is wrong with the place I am studying in?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry if my college is not some Ivy League or it is at a more convenient area where finding food won't be so limited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the colleges in Penang are the same. To me, at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, screw you. You are not even in Harvard or Oxford or Cambridge to begin with. If you ever get into any one of those top universities in the world, I'll bow before you and lick between your toes. And the college I go to is considered "low-class", how? You insult me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't give me, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You will never know. I would go to any one of those Ivy Leagues for all you know" &lt;/span&gt;crap. If you were even smart to begin with, you wouldn't even judge a book by its cover. You should jolly well know that going to a "higher class" college would not make you any smarter either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when people get their results, the first question being asked would be, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"How many As did you get???"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does it matter how many As people get? If they do not get straight As, are you trying to say that they are stupid and could have gotten better results? And if they do, are you threatened by the fact that many other people are better off than you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't even get one, (just one) '+' behind your As for working your arses off just to show that you are better than me so that I would respect you and your time put in. Sorry, but I find your ways of impressing rather naive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't even win a Nobel Prize for getting straight As.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-4663387792463721897?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/4663387792463721897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=4663387792463721897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4663387792463721897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4663387792463721897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/11/college.html' title='College'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-4687523734516883345</id><published>2009-11-18T07:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T08:04:44.182-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Copyright</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I hate the fact that I come across blogs by stupid people I do not like, post a really pretty photo or several pretty photos, that are clearly ripped off from Deviant Art, Flickr or Tumblr, and do not credit the artist, and just edit their blog URLs in those stolen artwork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Resulting in art theft, does not make your blog anymore interesting or let alone any passerby come back to your blogs so that you can gain more traffic. I shall take it that, you are just hoping for them to come back because of "your pretty photos", so that they could at least click on your advertisements, the next time they visit your blog for "more pretty photos", so that you can make easy money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, you have disclaimers written on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dong nan xi bei&lt;/span&gt; of your blogs saying that your blogs are copyright reserved. As if your blogs are so worthy to be copied off in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Because of this, artists are forced to watermark their photos and it bloody ruins the vibe in the photographs.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Watermarking photos does not guarantee everything to be safe. People even know how to remove it these days.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Though, it’s not like those stupid people’s blogs I came across, know how to do that. I just do not understand the lackadaisical originality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-4687523734516883345?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/4687523734516883345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=4687523734516883345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4687523734516883345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4687523734516883345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/11/copyright.html' title='Copyright'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-124692289935147113</id><published>2009-11-16T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T21:24:59.035-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When you think you know</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;MUM: Look! This place was once some rich man's mansion. Then it became an old folks' home. Now, it is going to be a medical college.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: And next time, it'll become an art supply store.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;MUM: Really?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: If I'm not home, I'd be inside, wandering about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAD: You like medical colleges?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAD: There's a ghost in this building.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BRO: Really???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAD: Didn't you hear? She has breasts measuring up to the size of potatoes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: I finished the last apple in the fridge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAD: Now that's a good girl!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;JANELLE: Wehhhh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: What?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;JANELLE: The dog &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; my cake!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: Oh cool. First prize is a MacBook Air.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAD: You can win meh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BRO: Why is it good to look like you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAD: Do you not like being handsome like me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BRYAN: Do you know how to speak French?&lt;br /&gt;DAD: Of course. I'm French, you see.&lt;br /&gt;BRYAN: You are?? I thought you were Chinese!&lt;br /&gt;DAD: Yes, I'm from Beijing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAD: Would you like to walk the dog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DAD: Yeah, me either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MUM: God loves everybody.&lt;br /&gt;DAD: But I'm not God.&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/7445327012596180816-124692289935147113?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/124692289935147113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=124692289935147113' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/124692289935147113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/124692289935147113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/11/when-you-think-you-know.html' title='When you think you know'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-4137381309656941945</id><published>2009-11-14T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T04:46:37.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Nothing"</title><content type='html'>One of the things that gets on my nerves is that, people tell you something, but when you don't catch what they say, you ask them to repeat, they end up saying, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Nothing."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since it's "nothing" in the first place, shut your big yap then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you say that it's something to do with my hearing but fuck you for speaking incoherently in the first place, and end up blaming other people's hearing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hearing is fine, thank you very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you tend to think things out loud, but telling me something incoherently and when being asked again, you say "nothing".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;A: I think purple looks good on you compared to pink.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;B: What?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;A: No, nothing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;B: Just say it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;A: No, no.... Nothing..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*pulls a weak smile with obvious guilt shown* &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;(Losers.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps you do not like repeating yourself. Not that I like asking, "What?" repeatedly either. It makes me look like some dumb twat to make myself even more twatful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody likes to know your thoughts when you are going to end up saying "nothing". Be it a compliment or a comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;Maybe&lt;/span&gt; it is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; important to share. But I suggest you THINK before you speak. That is even more &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Not like it's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;nothing&lt;/span&gt;. Just saying..&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&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/7445327012596180816-4137381309656941945?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/4137381309656941945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=4137381309656941945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4137381309656941945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4137381309656941945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/11/nothing.html' title='&quot;Nothing&quot;'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-5123970255765947979</id><published>2009-11-11T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T01:14:49.864-08:00</updated><title type='text'>One of the best inventions</title><content type='html'>It made my nose cringe when a dear friend of mine told me that one of the people she knows, said that if he were to take photographs with his SLR (if he gets one), he will never succumb to Photoshop because it makes one a bogus photographer, and the photos do not seem natural anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say, Photoshop is one of the best &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;inventions &lt;/span&gt;in the world. Of course, it is not advisable for one to over edit his/her photographs, because it just spoils the quality of the photos; but truth be told, nobody is perfect. Neither am I saying that Photoshop is perfect too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, Photoshop is important in every photographers work. Are you saying that the models you see in magazines are so perfect, or that they can do stupendous things like let's just say, flying in the air with birds?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People say,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; "He/she is not really a photographer. He/she over edits his/her photographs to make the models look good in everything."&lt;/span&gt; I hate it when people say that using Photoshop does not class one as a photographer because he/she does not opt for the natural. You make Joey Lawrence look bad! How dare you! He's one of the best photographers alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep in mind that you can NEVER edit a really bad photograph to make it look professional. Even if one tries, it still shouts 'epic failure'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, I'd like to see you &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;try&lt;/span&gt; first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-5123970255765947979?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/5123970255765947979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=5123970255765947979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5123970255765947979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5123970255765947979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/11/one-of-best-inventions.html' title='One of the best inventions'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-2392613082286536098</id><published>2009-11-08T07:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T20:50:53.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Photograph</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" class="medium"&gt;No matter what camera you use, it is not the camera but your artistic eyes who makes the photograph.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, choosing a camera is equally important. But people who think a particular brand is bad just cos someone takes mediocre photographs using that particular brand, you are narrow minded. It is not the "mediocre" camera, but the mediocre "photographer".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And people think that getting the latest SLR models (with HD video recording) will make their photographs &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;seem&lt;/span&gt; better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Just saying....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-2392613082286536098?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/2392613082286536098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=2392613082286536098' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2392613082286536098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2392613082286536098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/11/photograph.html' title='Photograph'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-5661142385078392607</id><published>2009-11-02T06:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T02:15:02.249-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Carrying a brick is a trend?</title><content type='html'>I do not get what is with the whole trend of having an SLR these days. Fashion (chavvy dressing and clothes that people think that look nice on them, but actually turn out to be gag-worthy) I understand, but an SLR? Not exactly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing about that these days is that everybody &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;must&lt;/span&gt; own an SLR, in order to look "professional" or "cool" for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is like the gadget has become ridiculously cheap that almost everybody can afford it. Because they claim to have interest in photography.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your interest in photography is respected, but having the thought that people think that they are so bloody good (when in actual fact they are really bloody bad), they start calling themselves "photographers", just because they own a really amazing camera that produces vivid raw images, and they have friends to model for them, or that the lighting so happened to be 'perfect'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;You are not a photographer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a photographer requires lots of effort. It takes days to edit the thousand and one photos you capture, including post-processing and what's not. Being a photographer, isn't just about making your friends look pretty with your outrageous make up skills, or going to the beach to sum it all up. Location is equally important, depending on the vibe you want to instill in your photographs. And the beach happens to be "perfect", how? And you think photography is all that simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having an SLR, as it is, does not guarantee that you'll take professional-like photographs. It depends on how you capture your object, and what you want to instill in your photographs. Sure, it gives you beautiful raw image, but it doesn't mean you are a photographer already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photography is not just about dolling your models up with your outrageous make up skills, and asking them to post like top models; it is about the things around you. And is that how your puny brains filter up to? Taking photos of your friends that already makes you a photographer??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If a person who is truly interested in photography, he/she won't brag about switching his/her current camera model to a newer one so badly when he/she already has a good enough one; just because the new models have HD video recording. Sure, it is good to invest in newer, better models that could benefit one in future. But why brag about wanting a newer model, when your current model is as good enough, and could capture an equally vivid image?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But are you only interested in wasting your money away, for the sake of the latest trend, just because it has HD video recording? And you claim to have interest in photography?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you (at least) do not take photography as a joke, you would be investing in lenses instead. Have you ever thought of "broadening your horizons" that you want to capture?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine, I do not exactly blame people for being so gaga all over an SLR with crazy amazing functions. Everybody likes everything, and it is not wrong to talk about something you really like at the moment. I mean, since when could SLRs record videos?! But at the same time, why must people give in to that sort of gimmick? Don't you think a normal, compact, digital camera would suffice you? Besides megapixels of digital cameras have increased abundantly, that could even measure up to an SLR. However, it would still be rather unfair to compare a compact to something more "professional".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People tend to want SLRs with higher megapixels, because they think the cameras with more megapixels produce better photographs. Yes, megapixels should not be neglected. One megapixel equals to one million of square pixels. The trick is that any camera can seem many megapixels better by making only small increases in image quality. Like 10 megapixels seem more than eight; but it is really just a very small difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Owning an SLR (if you own one; in which I presume most people already do) is not just about taking pretty photos of your model friends, and then uploading all over your blog/Facebook/Twitter. What's more, having the damn nerve to say, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"If you are interested in modelling, contact me. My prices are reasonable..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why must people "contact" mediocre photographers, who charge them at (so they say) "reasonable prices"? Do you honestly think you are &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; good at all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photography is not a joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You probably do not take it as a joke but with your (seemingly) incurable Peter Pan syndrome, you make yourself a bigger joke instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Ooooh, I take photography seriously."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Oooh. Well, aren't you full of shit?&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&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/7445327012596180816-5661142385078392607?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/5661142385078392607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=5661142385078392607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5661142385078392607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5661142385078392607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/11/carrying-brick-is-trend.html' title='Carrying a brick is a trend?'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-673813325557895121</id><published>2009-10-12T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T03:12:38.811-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cowards</title><content type='html'>As far as I am concerned, cowards are usually insufferable busybodies who must poke their noses into everyone else's business, indirectly, by asking their "PR team" to find things out for them, rather than they find out themselves. Apart from being "know-it-alls", people who just say, "I don't care what you think about me" crap are insecure whiners who think they are God's gift to the opposite sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, cowards want to know about other people, especially those they do not even like (mind you), but they will ask someone else to do it for them instead. Why do you care? If I do not like a person, I wouldn't even bother reading his/her blog, or count how many friends he/she has on Facebook, or anything that makes your ego bigger. And if I do not like a person, I do not even want to know the grades the person gets in school. It's like I take the person as too good for me that I see him/her as a threat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the thing about people (Penangites, in general), they want to know bloody everything. This place is already suffocating as it is, and they still want to know about everybody's business. But they ask someone else to ask for them instead (Eg: "What's your CGPA?" or "How many sheep did you count in your sleep last night?") because they are cowards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, yeah. You're so rich, you even have your own PR team to do your shit for you. What's amazing is that your PR team work for you for free, and by the end of the day, they get sick and tired of you and leave you, and then you're left with no more PR team, or even friends. So, is it worth to know the business of people you do not even like?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the thing about gossips and rumours about a particular person, and the victim goes on saying, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I don't care about what other people think"&lt;/span&gt;, actually &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;do&lt;/span&gt; care. What's worse, taking narcissistic photos of themselves (which happened to be gag-worthy by the way) and posting all over their blogs with descriptions saying, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I am fat, so?"&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I have a zit on my face, so?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you "don't care", but stating out the obvious does not make it any better. It is like you are trying so hard to tell people that you don't care, when you actually do. Your guts are admired for taking horrendous portraits of yourselves, but if your main objective is to show that you really "don't care", it really isn't helping you much. Sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-673813325557895121?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/673813325557895121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=673813325557895121' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/673813325557895121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/673813325557895121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/10/cowards.html' title='Cowards'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-8283903569097283202</id><published>2009-10-10T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T03:07:05.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog</title><content type='html'>A blog is a place where people express themselves through creativity; it is solely up to them whether they choose to blog about their daily lives, thoughts, or anything to even share. Moreover, who are you to question the way people blog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think that one's blogging techniques are (a bit) too harsh, or too critical; and that you have a morbid feeling that the person is blogging about you (yeah, yeah, everything is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;always &lt;/span&gt;about you), perhaps it's time you change your attitudes that happened to stink like a smelly old shoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People have better topics to actually blog about rather than always talk about other people. Sure, people have their moments where they just need to tell the rest of the world what a little shit other people are, then sure, people would talk about other people. And most importantly, do not take shame or even delete a certain post even after things are put behind later. (Still kept for leisure reading, and dignity's sake.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way a person blogs could cause misunderstandings sometimes. And people who feel victimised by even just a single blog post, start the blame game and feel insulted. Maybe if you gave your attitudes some sorting out, you would have not felt a least bit guilty in the first place. What? Have you done something really bad, like, oh, I don't know, let's say, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;manipulate other people's feelings and tell a different story to other people in front of people's faces&lt;/span&gt;, and (according to your conscience) "not realise" it; but when people point out your flaws, you get offended? Is this even fair at all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, everyone has their own ways of blogging. You've got yours, I've got mine, so why do you care anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have something to say and have a strong urge to share, just do it. It is a free country isn't it not? In fact, nobody is even stopping you to come up to my face to say that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know (rather than just think) that when the actual victim voices out his/her opinions through blogging, makes a good read, compared to people who blog about too detailed things (like people would actually never give a shit, or two about), or rather your "luxurious" finds which are not as luxurious as you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example: Cheap lingeries you bought at the night market; buy one, free one sort. Even if you got them at sky high prices, you were probably cheated and your "luxurious" finds are still considered as cheap skate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take this from me. It came from the &lt;u&gt;bottom of my heart.&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe after you are done with your attitude adjustments, I could blog with a positive vibe. Sounds good to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-8283903569097283202?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/8283903569097283202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=8283903569097283202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/8283903569097283202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/8283903569097283202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog.html' title='Blog'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-708827257295766229</id><published>2009-09-14T06:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T07:24:32.614-07:00</updated><title type='text'>William W. Williams</title><content type='html'>"I am a keeper.", said Lady Violet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why of course, my dear Lady Violet. We are not that just in society. Along with my handsome nephew, Bradley Uppercrust III, who thinks so too.", said William W. Williams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ahhhhhhhhh........", shouted Lady Asquith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is the matter, my dear Lady Asquith?", asked William W. Williams who was taken aback by the sudden shout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sacre bleu!", exclaimed Lady Asquith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was nothing but silence after that French exclamation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing. I just wanted attention.", said Lady Asquith who had calmed down later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone heaved a sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uncle Bill, I am only here to see Jilly Cooper.", said Bradley Uppercrust III.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not now.", he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He&lt;/span&gt;, as in William W. Williams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I would like to give my dog, Atticus, a bath first.", explained William W. Williams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know what to suggest.", said Lady Violet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;William W. Williams is &lt;a href="http://chattylass.blogspot.com/"&gt;Melissa.&lt;/a&gt; Her endless love for English names, I dedicate this scene to her, as she did for me, Colin Alfie, in her blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where Jilly Cooper came from.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-708827257295766229?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/708827257295766229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=708827257295766229' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/708827257295766229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/708827257295766229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/09/william-w-williams.html' title='William W. Williams'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-4784791054992677970</id><published>2009-09-07T07:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T03:28:13.525-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Curious</title><content type='html'>Why would people be celebrating a dead man's birthday? What does it make you? Designing hats or gloves, does not even show how you even pay your tributes to the late Michael Jackson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why didn't everybody celebrate his birthday when he was alive? What stupid "tribute" that you think would benefit the youth of the nation just by designing hats and gloves and then winning free Michael Jackson CDs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he was alive, did any of you bother to wonder why he was misunderstood for being a pedophile? Did any of you bother to even find out that the cause of his skin was actually a disease called Vitiligo, rather than accusing him of bleaching his skin?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's worst, taking all those stupid quizzes in Facebook, to see whether you are "true fans" of Michael Jackson, after his death (mind you).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was never a fan of his, I wouldn't even bother to take quizzes to see if I was a true fan of his or not. Even if any of you take the quiz all of the sudden, and managed to become a "true fan", you probably got all your answers from Google while doing the quiz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was never a fan of his and did all of these after his death, I'd be really embarrassed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should feel ashamed of yourselves too, for selling out your beliefs after someone famous died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ELVIS IS ALIVE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-4784791054992677970?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/4784791054992677970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=4784791054992677970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4784791054992677970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4784791054992677970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/09/curious.html' title='Curious'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-6641386094482487148</id><published>2009-09-02T12:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T03:16:44.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sissified</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I am so sorry that I have to leave your group because my friends have changed to a different group, and I've to follow them. Sorry."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, at least you said &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sorry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;understand, &lt;/span&gt;yet I do not. Understand the fact that you HAVE to be with your friends (till death do you part), and do not at the same time that you have to LIE to the lecturer, in front of my face, along with my friends who bare witness this ordeal experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your friends tell a whole other different story, saying that they were with a different group from the very beginning and they have always been with you the whole time, yet you "do not know what was going on", and still asked if we would like to be in the same group. The joke is, your friends did not say anything either, because you even asked us in front of their faces and they said nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the saying of "birds of the same feather, flock together", is true; because yourself along with your friends compliment each other so well. Which is manipulating other people and then telling the lecturer a whole other different story. Moreover, in front of our faces, mind you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you tell the lecturer that, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I didn't know that you actually wrote down the names of our group already." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you THAT bad at telling lies? I could even pretend that I have a strangely perturbed horse who actually rapes people like you, and people may even believe me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend and I even approached you to discuss about our assignment, and you handled the situation so well. Oh-I-will-research-this-you-will-research-that sort of crap. Though, the next day you could send us a text (not even bothering to actually come to our faces to say that), that you have to "follow" your friends, just because they switched to a different group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What? Are you so afraid that they won't be friends with you anymore, just because you didn't want to switch to another group with them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get it. You are a sissified gay boy who will never get laid by a girl no matter how "brilliant" you flirt with her even if she knows that you are straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only have you manipulated my friends and I but dare you lie to the lecturer, in front of our faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the lecturer had not intervened with what we had to say in class, we would have yelled the hell out of you; and that my foe, would have been the best damn moment of our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you ever dare to continue your fuckery, I swear the next time, I will mention your God-forsaken names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You do not have to give me lame excuses like you have communication problem with your friends. The both of you speak the same language, what is so problematic about your communication? Are you that bad that you lack of creativity to even express yourself? Rather than,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; "I don't know what's going on, it's all him/her"&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blaming someone else does not show that you have dignity. It shows that you are a disgrace that some other people would even bother to call you their "friend".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of now on, you are THE sissified gay boy, who has a brain of a ding dong, and the girl who you have to follow till death do you part, is simply known as "the girl who lied that she didn't know how to read and write, but could speak in Chinese only just to escape Chinese classes last term at college cos she wanted more time to rest (Lame excuse that points out that you are clearly very bad at lying since you blog IN CHINESE occasionally. Wow, you really HATE Chinese studies, eh?)".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that's one heck of a hint for HCC students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This does not stop here. These two fuckers have the guts to have the want of joining my friends (who happened to be the shit in art and graphics) and I for a different lecture, so that we could do everything, and they do nothing but still get an A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get your A's yourselves. Which I don't think you would if it narrows down to individual work (without the help of outsiders).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's no fun getting to know you better. You have been read, inside and out. Makes you really ugly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-6641386094482487148?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/6641386094482487148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=6641386094482487148' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6641386094482487148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6641386094482487148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/08/sissified.html' title='Sissified'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-1331172458254854994</id><published>2009-08-14T02:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T08:57:03.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>H1N1 is a joke?</title><content type='html'>Several people are sick these days (most literally and mentally), and there are other people who like to tease the sick (and the lame) that they have gotten the swine flu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think that is a really good thing to joke about with even just your close friends, it really isn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joking about something like that, does not even make it a joke, or that you have a great sense of humour to say that people are going to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you fail, or even ran out of ideas to express your condolences, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;shut the hell up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are making this pandemic sound as if it is a joke and that people shouldn't really give a shit about it at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes you an even sicker joke to be a living disease, that you have to tell the sick that they have swine flu, and you are free from it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-1331172458254854994?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/1331172458254854994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=1331172458254854994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1331172458254854994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1331172458254854994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/08/h1n1-is-joke.html' title='H1N1 is a joke?'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-1075916468446930221</id><published>2009-08-08T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T09:31:56.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook</title><content type='html'>My Dad asked me if I had a Facebook. I told him I did. He asked me if he added me, would I accept his request. I told him I did not mind. He then asked me whether he could read the comments my friends and I exchange. I did not mind either. He said that he will watch me "play" it first, before creating one. I obliged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then gave up and said, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Screw this. I thought the internet was supposed to be fun."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said no more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then ranted on how Facebook ruins people's lives and how it robs people's creativity away. I silently agreed. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Little children should be seen and not heard.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frankly, it is bothersome that people post &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt; on their profiles: what they are doing, to the thousand and one photographs of narcissists who take absolutely nothing else but themselves but claim to be interested in "photography". &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;My foot.&lt;/span&gt; And, to several other photos of God-knows-what, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, you become less of a person in a way that people in your list would even state the minor details on their statuses, like when they just shat from the toilet, or whether they are scoring enough points to build their game empires, or whether it is their (?) month anniversary with their boy/girlfriends. Who gives a fuck?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably certain people do. I guess I just got carried away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, Facebook's great to keep in contact with distant relatives and friends. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;And it should stay that way.&lt;/span&gt; Thing is, it makes me feel &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;too&lt;/span&gt; connected at some point that I may lose my originality without knowing, because someone, somewhere, may plagiarise ideas off one's profile. Like how one replies comments, or how one takes his/her photos, or how one makes a video, especially from which angle it is being filmed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What pisses me off is most of the quizzes in Facebook. Knowing when one will give birth, or what he/she should name the child, or whether one is a true Michael Jackson fan, or what one should name his penis; not very interesting at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get it. Your brains are as dead as your fore fathers. So what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Social networking, my arse. More like some internet account, that everybody &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;must&lt;/span&gt; have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-1075916468446930221?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/1075916468446930221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=1075916468446930221' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1075916468446930221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1075916468446930221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/07/facebook.html' title='Facebook'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-78517107179953075</id><published>2009-08-05T12:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T13:14:23.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Insensible know-it-alls</title><content type='html'>To be honest, Hermione Granger is one of my favourite Harry Potter characters. I just do not like the fact that she is overrated, and annoying. However, her vast intelligence, and being the insensible "know-it-all" is actually acceptable to a certain extend because she KNOWS what she usually goes on about with everything. Unlike some people, always try too hard to achieve an 'A'. Let alone whether they bother to have the '+' behind their As, which I don't think it would bother them much because their main objectives are all together, is to score just an A, and that's that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Impressing people on the internet by boasting that you are fantastic in, let alone, photography, language, dancing, music, etc; does not prove that you are all that in reality. If you are basically &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;all that,&lt;/span&gt; you wouldn't be wasting your lives away showing how "great" you are, all over your online docks, just so you could convince idiots to believe that you are exceptionally great, when you are no where near that in the first place; you would be out there doing it instead. Sure, it would be nice if you could share things here and there once in a while. But being someone you are not, would beg to differ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine, maybe people do not have the guts to flaunt what they speak of themselves in reality. But if they have the guts to do so all over the internet, I don't see why they beg to differ in reality. You do not even have to decline for doing so. Others can easily sense your hesitation and awkwardness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk about brown noses.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-78517107179953075?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/78517107179953075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=78517107179953075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/78517107179953075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/78517107179953075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/08/insensible-know-it-alls.html' title='Insensible know-it-alls'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-4576455141565362636</id><published>2009-08-04T06:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T06:23:05.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Outcast</title><content type='html'>I have always lived with the fact that people hate me. With a good or no reason at all, I do not know. But I have always lived by that fact that I don't have friends. Which is okay, because I don't see the reason in having any friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my life, the "friends" I knew and still do, had always been "nice" to me only when they wanted something. After, they just forget. I'm not sure whether they treat everybody else they meet the same, but this is how my life worked, and still works sometimes. And I could assure this would be implied with "friends" to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't see myself as someone beneficial because some people befriend some people because they think they are beneficial in some ways, and I don't see myself as, or anywhere close to that. Because if that is so, they'd still bother to call one another out, and what's not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's pretty much the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;truth.&lt;/span&gt; When I SPEAK the truth, people hate it. I don't understand. Yeah, the truth hurts but if you are not going to take advice from people who can see that you are mediocre, learn to bloody accept it and learn from it. If your lives were perfect or anywhere near that at all, I would start barking like a dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loathe most of the people I've met since I came back to Malaysia. Especially in secondary school. I was not bad at school, but I honestly loathed my school mates, especially when it came to Girl Guides. It was the biggest mistake joining that shit arse uniform body, and I don't understand how many can like it. I did not mind the activities, but those mingin dog bitches thought they were so great and mighty, just because they had high posts. If they do not like you (like me for instance), they would do anything to kick you out of the uniform body, regardless of whether you faired well or not in your activities and what's not; just because they don't like you because some people would dare to speak the truth and they won't like it because they think they are all that when they are not at all. (That's why their only "talents" had to be through hard work, like guiding.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk about teachers. When I accidentally forgot to bring a book to school, the teachers will say that I did not do my homework and didn't bring to school on purpose and lied that I "forgot" to bring. Thing about teachers at my secondary school was that they simply LOVED to ask rhetorical questions. Rhetorical questions could be fun, once in a while, but they seem to&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; over do it.&lt;/span&gt; And when you answer them back, they will yell at you not to answer them back. And they start threatening you with demerit marks. And when you do not answer them back (because you somehow have this feeling that you will be yelled at), they will still yell at you once more, for being rude not to answer their questions. Teachers I have dealt with by far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Penangites (like people I've mentioned above) can suck sweaty donkey balls. By far, at least I have learnt that people are like that, and still know at least a few people who are willing to be my friend for who I really am. Penang people, that is. At least I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not blogging this to gain sympathy because I really do not need it at all. I hate people feeling sorry for me just because I don't have what people have. I should feel sorry for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you,&lt;/span&gt; because you do not even know what "life" is. Yet. I don't know. Does it matter? I mean, not like any of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; would ever know the meaning of "life".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too many people can turn one claustrophobic anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Anne, Erika, Fuh Sin, Grace, Helene, Jane, Melissa, Nicole, Simon, Tom, &lt;/b&gt;I love you guys anyway :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-4576455141565362636?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/4576455141565362636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=4576455141565362636' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4576455141565362636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4576455141565362636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/08/outcast.html' title='Outcast'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-7808183381385741405</id><published>2009-08-02T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T08:10:38.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You're sick</title><content type='html'>Why must you bother to even wonder where did Michael Jackson go, after his death; heaven or hell? The man is dead, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;give it a rest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moreover, going around telling people that reading and/or watching Harry Potter will lure people to the dark side and you will go to hell for doing so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God did not make you the judge. So, don't start topics on whether MJ went to hell or heaven, or what I should be reading or watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If God did make you the judge, you would give me (even just) a clear explanation on why I should not be reading and/or watching Harry Potter rather than just &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"it's all a lie",&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"it will lure you to the dark side",&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"you will surely go to hell".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you get any lamer than that? I could even cook better things up like, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Clipping my toe nails is better than watching Harry Potter"&lt;/span&gt;, in order to avoid going to hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Has it ever occurred to you that the book series are all fictitious? If you dislike it and think it is all a lie (since it is fiction), fair enough. But you don't have to gather your own cult, that people must like/dislike the same things as you. You are just plain insulting other people's interests, just so you can benefit on your own interests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insulting or what!?? You know shit, but you are already cursing people to go to hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does not make me any worst of a person. Hey, you've got your opinions on certain things, and I should respect that. It would be nice if you could return that favour and respect other people's interests, rather than plain cursing them to go to hell, or that I will stop loving God because of that. What I do is between me and God. And I suggest what you do should be between yourselves and God too. Rather than saying things that you think you are so sure of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By doing so, it does not make you people of God. It shows how much you try too hard, that you even forget about what the book of Ezekiel says. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Preach false prophecy, and you shall be killed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Which means, going to hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell you what...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stick to reading your Bibles and save some holy water for later.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God bless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-7808183381385741405?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/7808183381385741405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=7808183381385741405' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7808183381385741405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7808183381385741405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/08/youre-sick.html' title='You&apos;re sick'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-7894459477718106893</id><published>2009-07-29T05:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T11:45:27.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Avoid blogs with background music like a plague</title><content type='html'>Apart from slow internet connection, I absolutely hate people with background music in their blogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine, you ask me to "check your blog out" because, you probably are desperate enough to gain more traffic; and I am being nice enough to oblige that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is because of you, I am forced to mute my speakers half way when reading. Isn't it annoying? That when you are having the lark of your time reading (not that it is very great anyway), and the music pops up of no where, and you have to pause/mute it? Especially when I am happily listening to my own songs, which happened to be better than your stupid-song-which-will-never-win-an-Emmy-but-you-have-bad-music-taste-that-&lt;br /&gt;you-think-is-very-great-when-it-is-no-where-near-that-at-all song, thank you very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's fine if you are obsessed with that particular song, and you want to do whatever you wish with your blogs but if your main purpose is to probably get more readers, then keep dreaming.&lt;br /&gt;You will never gain traffic, no matter how you try to make your blogs seem "interesting", when it will never be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With society like that these days, blogging shouldn't be made accessible to people like that. It will prove how cheesy you are, with your choice of song and/or how cheesier could you get by embedding a background song in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it's true the internet is not a safe place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-7894459477718106893?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/7894459477718106893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=7894459477718106893' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7894459477718106893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7894459477718106893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/07/internet.html' title='Avoid blogs with background music like a plague'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-6402208337043003642</id><published>2009-07-21T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T23:43:48.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Speechless about squibs</title><content type='html'>People who annoy people to update their blogs, should die. You have no better hobby, so what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who claim to read the books, but still have no comments about the movie that is based on the books they have read, and also claimed to like, should also die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not even squibs, but &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mud-squibs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a Harry Potter fan (which also includes people reading the books and bother to get involved with the fandom world), the sixth movie was not exactly disappointing. I liked it, to be honest.&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; At least, it was rather according to the book. It was not brilliant, but it did not infuriate me like how movie 3, 4, and 5 did. If you have not read the book, the movie would have probably pierced you to death because you will find it somewhat not progressive. (Like how people complain about the first Narnia movie being a bore).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;It infuriates me to the core that people CLAIM that they are Harry Potter fans; i.e. reading the books and what's not; just as much as how the third, forth, and fifth movie did. If you actually have read the books and are fans of in the first place, you won't actually fancy some of the movies; moreover, saying they were brilliant; just because certain scenes were funny or a particular character was good looking. It does not prove that you are a fan. It just shows how cheesy and lame you can be, and suddenly saying that you are a fan of something, when you were never a fan of it in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it is Harry Potter, not PORTER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Fenrir Greyback was not how I imagined him to be. I opted for the somewhat Barty Crouch Jr. look, minus the tongue flick, adding the hairiness. Though, Greyback was portrayed pretty well. As for Pansy Parkinson, she was not how I exactly wanted her to be; she was rather annoying, and looked annoying too.&lt;br /&gt;I thought Narcissa's role was too little and that she should have had more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come to think of it, my English lecturer reminds me of Dolores Umbridge. The comparison between the both of them has concluded to be a same difference. Her portrayal of Dolores Umbridge, can be set as an exemplary one. Like any fool who had gone through kindergarten would know not to put "beautifuler" or "beautifulest" (although, they are still words somehow), but we are still taught about which is the biggest animal in this world, and whether they are human-friendly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slight exaggerated fact, but definitely not about the exemplary comparison. However, the exaggerated fact is still morbidly true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody ever gets what I am blogging about. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I suspect it's the nargles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-6402208337043003642?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/6402208337043003642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=6402208337043003642' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6402208337043003642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6402208337043003642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/07/speechless-about-squibs.html' title='Speechless about squibs'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-7482609338179770985</id><published>2009-07-18T03:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T03:05:21.729-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Passion</title><content type='html'>People always stress on what should they major in, because they fear that they will suffer from financial problems in future. With this thinking, it does not prove that you are smart with your decisions; it just shows how naive you are to "choose the safer route" because you can "earn more money" with that. If you are only doing something because of the money, it does not mean you will be successful in life, because you do it for the sake of it, and not cos you love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only study the thing you love. If you wanna be a fine artist or a teacher or anything, so be it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Studying something you have no passion for, or believe for some vague promise of earning money, don't. It will never work. The people who love it will always do better than you. And they will be the ones earning all the money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plagiarising someone else's creativity does not prove that you are the smartest dugong in the herd. It just shows your lackluster creativity, and then claiming every credit. It won't guarantee that you will be successful. It shows that you are a wannabe who have no talent at all, but yearns to have creativity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think that makes you elite, that will be the time I resurrect Michael Jackson from the dead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-7482609338179770985?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/7482609338179770985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=7482609338179770985' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7482609338179770985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7482609338179770985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/07/passion.html' title='Passion'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-5168761769487348270</id><published>2009-07-10T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T11:14:13.219-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Musik</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="width: 372px; height: 250px;" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/96/l_39648c2d442d4a9b8830377d97cf3f1a.png" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Relating to Beethoven; he preferred being alone, I am no different from that; he was deaf, I will go deaf if I continue maximising the volume of my ear phones; he spent most of his time with music, I should probably do that as often as I usually do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His pieces are too detailed, with too many key signatures and notes; which does not make for happy practice, especially if they exceed to ten pages and they are exam pieces. *faints and dies* However, always made for happy listening. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I hope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot fathom the looming ball of darkness that he had when he prepared his scores. Neither could I, for Chopin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, it is pretty much an honour to be playing sad pieces. It shows one's capability of handling it with such patience, even if one's patience span is shorter than finger nail clippings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*Closes eyes and thinks of England*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-5168761769487348270?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/5168761769487348270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=5168761769487348270' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5168761769487348270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5168761769487348270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/07/musik.html' title='Musik'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-2500996614148128479</id><published>2009-06-28T07:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T01:44:40.398-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why are you all pretending to care?</title><content type='html'>People should really stop going on and on about Michael Jackson's death. Yes, people are upset but honestly, some of you probably have never bothered about MJ and is just going on like a nag, just because it is the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;in &lt;/span&gt;topic now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MJ was no doubt one of the greatest pop sensations. Though, those who never liked him, just because of his weirdness, are now paying tribute to him on their blogs, Facebooks, Twitter, or anywhere, really; when neither of you gave a shit or two about him, or bother to at least say that he was misunderstood for being accused as a pedophile, and "wanting to become white".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you feel embarrassed that you're pretending to care? I would, if I was never a fan of his. Moreover, quoting his song lyrics everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By copying and pasting his life story, (which you clearly ripped off from Wikipedia), does not even convince people that you are a number one MJ fan, and that you know him in and out.  Moreover, posting several photos of him (i.e. Google) in your blogs, does not prove that you are a fan of his. It just shows that you are a wannabe who probably blogs just for the sake of his death, or to gain traffic, or both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, you do not have to be a fan to at least pretend to be sad about his death. Listening to his songs repeatedly, and saying that you are starting to appreciate his music, shows how much of a joke music is to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neither am I saying that MJ is music, nor music alone is MJ. It just proves to everybody else (who actually bother) that you clearly know shit about music, and only blogging about his death for the sake of the occasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that is the case, why don't everyone celebrate Elvis Presley's, John Lennon's, Kurt Cobain's, death anniversaries every year, since music means so much to you? (Since the pop sensation is dead, and you're going on about it, like you care).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, we shouldn't mourn for his death. Celebrate his existence instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bet you didn't think of that, and came up with stupid sayings like, "Damn, why did he have to die!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, yeah. You can even choose&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; when&lt;/span&gt; to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-2500996614148128479?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/2500996614148128479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=2500996614148128479' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2500996614148128479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2500996614148128479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/06/why-are-you-all-pretending-to-care.html' title='Why are you all pretending to care?'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-7851153808905541548</id><published>2009-06-19T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T03:35:00.483-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tanzen</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 271px; height: 241px;" src="http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/64/l_f98829a3932745dba3909d18b65dd013.png" /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once, I was lost to the point of disgust. I had in my sight lack of vision and light. I fell hard and fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, in the dust all the the things that are discussed were thrown to the wind. So at last, it begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dancing is the only thing that makes me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from the art section of Borders and rejected things of people I don't like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or idling at one corner, listening to your own music and not sharing with anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh God. I hope this isn't cheesy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes. That girl in the photo is me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm going to try and do that again before I can't anymore :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mercy me. I hope that'll last.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-7851153808905541548?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/7851153808905541548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=7851153808905541548' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7851153808905541548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7851153808905541548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/06/passion.html' title='Tanzen'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-4765431338227797481</id><published>2009-06-04T05:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T03:53:25.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>YouTube, Twitter &amp; Facebook</title><content type='html'>YouTube eats up my bandwidth &amp;amp; it is irritatingly annoying that when you try to search for a particular video, many pops up &amp;amp; there is a high possibility that you have to click every single link, because the video is either too short, too boring, too parodied or too stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twitter is pretty cool but it is so annoying that almost every Hollywood celebrity (i.e. Miley Cyrus, Heidi Montag, whoever is fake), always tweet in such an artificial Godly manner. Eg: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Reading the Bible by the pool"&lt;/span&gt;; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"I feel so bad not reading the Bible today!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They read their Bibles (supposedly) "everyday", but they do things such as plastic surgery, &amp;amp; being so desperate until they endlessly (&amp;amp; not forgetting shamelessly) tweet the world, asking people to vote for them so that they can win their music awards, when they have no talent in the first place. Looks like voting for yourself isn't enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Facebook's boring as F. It is even lamer that there are several pointless quizzes that people take, just to find out who is their real soul mate, or whether they will die a peaceful death; from how you should live to even how you should shit in the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In year 3000, YouTube, Twitter, &amp;amp; Facebook, will (possibly) merge into one monolithic time waster, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;YouTwitFace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-4765431338227797481?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/4765431338227797481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=4765431338227797481' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4765431338227797481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4765431338227797481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/06/youtube-twitter-facebook.html' title='YouTube, Twitter &amp; Facebook'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-6512550559143383426</id><published>2009-06-03T23:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T03:54:06.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bermuda Triangle</title><content type='html'>I think I'm slightly obsessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday is in love with the Bermuda Triangle. I think it's mysteriously interesting. I guess people who have gone &amp;amp; disappeared there, have disturbed the (supposed) spirits &amp;amp; have ruined the aura with irritating sounds of their planes &amp;amp; ships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything has a reason to happen, yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the reason of the disappearance for every plane that so happen to just "fly by", in the mysterious Bermuda Triangle, then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you think the mysterious disappearance of Air France, has something to do with this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask me anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-6512550559143383426?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/6512550559143383426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=6512550559143383426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6512550559143383426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6512550559143383426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/06/bermuda-triangle.html' title='Bermuda Triangle'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-1392410835338608705</id><published>2009-05-27T08:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T11:01:35.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bruised</title><content type='html'>I bruised my fingers while I was playing the piano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, people just won't believe me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry if I fail to be convincing enough, or I have not exaggerated my best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever had to play a complicated modern period piece, with several accidentals &amp;amp; complicated time signatures &amp;amp; ever had to end the piece with thrills &amp;amp; slides?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or did you have to play a jazz piece with thousand &amp;amp; one notes, &amp;amp; also end with sliding the keys?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If so, you would have believed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bruised my fingers while playing the piano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd be surprised if you told me that you went window shopping, &amp;amp; your feet had bruises from walking too much, because you were wearing heels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I dunno what it's like to be stupid enough to wear heels, just to window shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I rest with such nostalgia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Sad music being played on a violin*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-1392410835338608705?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/1392410835338608705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=1392410835338608705' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1392410835338608705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1392410835338608705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/05/bruised.html' title='Bruised'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-2824549323937648835</id><published>2009-05-24T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T02:57:56.708-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unwritten</title><content type='html'>You know, I have come to realise that I don't actually hate anyone. I actually strongly dislike instead, &amp;amp; loathe the way people are. Even the lamest jokes that are said, they are cringe worthy as it is, that I just don't bother to even get to know who they really are. But is it really THAT important as it is to know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can never seem to fathom why it has turned out to be this way. It does get pretty much tiresome just to complain &amp;amp; brag how almost everyone in this world are morons that most of them used to, or rather still do, think that this world was/is flat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mostly sense that looming ball of darkness cloud over. It sickens me to the core. Why is it that the best music composers in this world, died in such a way that no matter how temperamental, they still die a suckish death? Or rather the best authors either had turned to suicide or mostly died of tuberculosis?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But honestly, society has issues. The stupidest &amp;amp; lamest issues, that I would say that Tchaikovsky was hot, although he was gay. They tend to think that they are the best at everything but when there are people who are way better who give a much more better performance, they start to hate their competitors &amp;amp; would find every alternative to sabotage them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes do not know what I am trying to point out but by being a nobody, it’d be so much easier to ignore unwanted attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though, who would bother about what I am trying to point out anyway? My parents are too intellectual for me, my brother's a kumquat, my dog's a bitch, &amp;amp; my alter-ego is not as responsive as I thought it would be, my friends are too-cool-for-you-bitch, &amp;amp; by the end of it, I refer to brilliant people who share the same birthday as I do, although dead; even the rest of the authors whom I find so intellectual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alcott's 'Little Women'.&lt;br /&gt;I hated Fred Von for being engaged to Amy when he did not deserve her at all. I hated the fact when Jo's book was not accepted, &amp;amp; at the same time, receiving horrible news of Beth that she was about to face death, on the same day. I hated Aunt March for being such an old, unreasonable hag - It all only starts to make sense that in life we face such horridness to give us more confidence, yet lower our pride. It only started to make sense when Jo had her book finally published &amp;amp; marrying someone intellectual, in the end. Having to see Amy &amp;amp; Teddy getting married was pretty much a happy ending. Beth need not suffer anymore; sad but her loved ones would never fear death anymore, knowing that she will be there to greet them one day in open arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, people with amazing talents, of whom, make full use out of it, always perform better &amp;amp; they should be the ones society should envy but at the same time, must be greatly appreciated no matter what. But I stand firm in saying that society really has issues. Not just one but all. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Societies have issues. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people are just blessed in a way that they are either born to a family of what society tend to concentrate on for many time beings; however they still remain the same since the day they were born, especially when they step out of the shadow. People who can see, see that these people, who have no talent &amp;amp; they are not worth the envy at all; but why is it that society has no rule, whatsoever to at least try to do something about that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having the feeling of hatred, does not seem to do much, no matter the endless complaints. Those who get bored from time to time, turn to television, where most programmes these days tend to promote stupidity &amp;amp; queerness. That is why hatred grows from within to see what the society has become; being surrounded by morons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-2824549323937648835?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/2824549323937648835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=2824549323937648835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2824549323937648835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2824549323937648835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/05/unwritten.html' title='Unwritten'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-2722560422058557897</id><published>2009-05-21T03:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T03:28:43.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Angels &amp; demons</title><content type='html'>Considering the fact that I did not read the book, the movie seemed rather ridiculous &amp;amp; pretty predictable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movies which are based on best selling books, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;never &lt;/span&gt;follow what's written in the books. Because the people think that they are so smart, they want to change every thing &amp;amp; screw things up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was the author, I'd be insulted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6/10.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-2722560422058557897?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/2722560422058557897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=2722560422058557897' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2722560422058557897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2722560422058557897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/05/angels-demons.html' title='Angels &amp; demons'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-5634304423204545820</id><published>2009-05-11T08:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T10:33:29.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Think</title><content type='html'>Ich versuche zum blog in einem heitren &amp;amp; wunderliche weise so viel wie möglich. Jedoch wegen der zunahme von dummheit &amp;amp; solches eigenartige denken, bitte ich, um mich zu unterscheiden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Staubanhäufung. Leute sehend, dümmer zu werden, konnte das einflussreich manchmal sein.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ich weiß nicht, warum ich Deutsch blogging für diesen pfosten bin. Aber ich finde ihn recht kühl, um ihn zu tun, &amp;amp; werde ich mit diesem fremden pfosten an fortfahren, ob jeder oder nicht versteht.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ich denke, dass das internet leute ihre traditionelle kreativität, wie schreibensbuchstaben oder zeichnen, oder erhalten berauben lässt mit einbezogen in tonwaren oder fliegende drachen, oder wirklich kreativer aller gerade, wirklich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es ist ziemlich genau eine schande, aber ich fahre noch auf &amp;amp; fort; nicht lassen sie meine traditionelle kreativität gehen zu vergeuden.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-5634304423204545820?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/5634304423204545820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=5634304423204545820' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5634304423204545820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5634304423204545820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/05/twink.html' title='Think'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-8800727214968299652</id><published>2009-05-01T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T21:08:02.530-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pathetic</title><content type='html'>Here is a rant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never actually liked the people at my college. I guess they are not my type at all. In fact, they AREN'T my type at all. I honestly don't care if you think that I am trying to seem superior in every single way, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I am not.&lt;/span&gt; I will tell you why &amp;amp; feel free to ask me whenever you see me, &amp;amp; if I even DARE to stutter one word to you, feel free to judge me in every way. This I can assure you, if I even dare to stutter even just a word to you, I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thing is, about this Chinese-educated ones. Not that I have anything against them, I just cannot stand their pathetic values most of the time. I do not blame them for having the spirit of competition, but for God's sake; if you REALLY want to find fault, at least TRY to be more realistic instead of putting our academic lives in jeopardy, that the lecturers are somehow "forced" to fail us because we did not "participate" in group assignments at all, when that is clearly untrue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the thing; they always want to do bloody everything. Even we, English-educated ones for example, are more than willing to help. Come on, we pay shit loads of money to study the same shit as you, &amp;amp; dare you just shoving (&amp;amp; not willing) BRIEF INFORMATION TO US INSTEAD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, they allow you to help somehow, because &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"they cannot do everything", &lt;/span&gt;which I fully support. However, they only explain to you in brief, &amp;amp; you have to find in several different sources just to send to them because they go on saying, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You &lt;u&gt;just&lt;/u&gt; send to me the details &amp;amp; I'll do the rest." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, they will somehow whine to the lecturers that they were the ones, who did every single shit &amp;amp; that the rest of the group members did not participate at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nerve you have to ask us to "just find information &amp;amp; we will do the rest", &amp;amp; just explaining things to us in brief, moreover; you still have the nerve to take every credit??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, when we, victims tell our part of the story, they just shut the hell up &amp;amp; don't even dare to answer. If you are so right, as you whined to the lecturer, why don't you fight back? Because you know, I don't see why is it so difficult for you to at least TRY to argue, when you have all the guts to claim every credit in the first fucking place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This does not stop here. These little fuckers go on whining to their own herd of dugongs that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;we&lt;/span&gt; are being &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;lazy.&lt;/span&gt; Yes, yes, we are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;soooooo lazyyyyyyy&lt;/span&gt; to the extend that we have given up hope to even bother to at least try to explain to the lecturers, that you were the ones who wanted to do everything in the first place &amp;amp; only explained to us things in brief. Or rather, you don't bother to explain at all because you have other assignments to do &amp;amp; apparently too busy to talk online.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong. Not all of them are like that, only &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;most.&lt;/span&gt; So, there is a difference, all &amp;amp; most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their attitudes sicken me to the core that I could actually lose the will to live. And to think pointless subjects make me lose the will to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My rant is complete, &amp;amp; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;not in brief.&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/7445327012596180816-8800727214968299652?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/8800727214968299652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=8800727214968299652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/8800727214968299652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/8800727214968299652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/05/pathetic.html' title='Pathetic'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-2841446481374879329</id><published>2009-04-30T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T10:44:10.167-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You will get an A+ when pigs could actually fly</title><content type='html'>There is this growing epidermic that needs to be stopped. Though, it is more of a pandemic in that matter that those who overwork themselves, actually have the thought that vests could be made of genuine gorilla's chest one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Right after I become the Queen of England.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially those who just want to benefit &amp;amp; do not give a shit if you fall or not. They become nice to you, because they think that you are worth the 'A' to score, when it comes to group assignments. I cannot comprehend or even come to a thought, why they stress themselves up to the extend by sleeping during the wee hours in the morning, but end up not having any points themselves to even come to a solution for an assignment. However, others end up being blamed, due to just a single moron who had been deprived of sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, nobody asked &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; to overwork to the extend, that you think that your "job well done" would assure you that you can get an 'A'. However, even when the lecturer praises you on your job well done, you still think that this particular group, in which we all scored an 'A' equally, had put all the pressure on you, until you overwork yourself till the wee hours in the morning for nothing. And we still scored an 'A' because.....???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, if you are really desperate to have a "+" behind your A (which you will get when pigs could actually fly), &amp;amp; think that it is best that you leave us for something else more "welcoming", at least take the COURAGE to inform rather than just trying to "fit in" another flock &amp;amp; pretending like we were never associated with you before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please, do not fret to try to argue when you see me the next time (when pigs could fly, I hope). Sure, I am like &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt; unreasonable until you feel so guilty since this blog post is about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I ask for is the same wavelength, to waste no time of stupidity &amp;amp; queerness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked for something simple &amp;amp; you, you little shit, fail to at least try to amuse me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Avoid us like a plague if you must. I actually find it so much more easier to breathe.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-2841446481374879329?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/2841446481374879329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=2841446481374879329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2841446481374879329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2841446481374879329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/04/you-will-get-a-when-pigs-could-actually.html' title='You will get an A+ when pigs could actually fly'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-927124917547790262</id><published>2009-04-11T10:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T10:32:55.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why aren't Asians cool?</title><content type='html'>Asians ARE actually pretty cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am one myself, so I have to be THAT bias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no, I honestly think that Asians are cool. Cos if I didn't say so, people would say that I am discriminating my own race &amp;amp; rat crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why aren't Asians cool enough to even star in their own, supposedly "Asian film"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like 'Dragonball' for instance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, I never cared about the anime of that either. But as far as I can remember, Goku was, &amp;amp; still is an Asian. Yet, an anime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 171px; height: 261px;" src="http://chasness.files.wordpress.com/2008/07/dragonball11.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you trying to indicate that Asians can't pull off the character of Goku in the movie? Or is it Jackie Chan or Jet Li or Jay Chou are not cut out because they are too old or too weird, to be Goku that it has to be played by a Caucasian?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is just like asking Paris Hilton to act as someone intellectual or rather Brad Pitt to be Mr T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;we&lt;/span&gt; that lame? Are we Asians&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; really&lt;/span&gt; THAT lame?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 312px; height: 178px;" src="http://www.deeko.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2007/11/dragonball-zs-goku-and-piccolo-cast-20071114042954221.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I see no similarities in this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not like I have anything against Caucasians. I just don't understand why Hollywood thinks that Asians are not cut out to be in their own (sort of) movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying Asians are perfect either. We even have the sick &amp;amp; the lame:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 208px; height: 277px;" src="http://30tocure30.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/williampic_c.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** Even Asians speaking in Chinese to their friends in public, but lying about being illiterate in writing &amp;amp; reading Chinese but still blogs &amp;amp; replies comments in Chinese, are one of those airheads, whom are sick &amp;amp; lame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I like Asians even if I don't like many people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we are pretty cool &amp;amp; make Maths seem cool too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asians are cool okay? Like me! So shut up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(** Try catching the ball.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-927124917547790262?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/927124917547790262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=927124917547790262' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/927124917547790262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/927124917547790262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/04/why-arent-asians-cool.html' title='Why aren&apos;t Asians cool?'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-2312712868878366479</id><published>2009-03-27T07:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T13:02:10.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Change in climate</title><content type='html'>A few years ago, I wanted to do something to help change the deteriorating climate. This year, our country has finally decided to take part in it &amp;amp; I am glad. People start blogging about it &amp;amp; if we don't participate in this, bad things will happen to us. Literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thing is, I am glad that our nation is going to participate as one to switch off our lights for one hour as of 2030hrs onwards. And since almost everyone is so "concerned" about the earth, why don't you all do it &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;everyday&lt;/span&gt; instead of just stating this particular special date &amp;amp; time to remind everybody else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, I have decided to mention what I had in my previous paragraph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, living everyday of our lives, are you all either forgetful, ignorant or just plain participating for one day, just for one hour, to think that it is enough to help with the already bad climate that we have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DO IT EVERYDAY INSTEAD. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you have every right to feel damn proud of yourselves to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; help save the earth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-2312712868878366479?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/2312712868878366479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=2312712868878366479' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2312712868878366479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2312712868878366479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/03/change-in-climate.html' title='Change in climate'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-6004919803324032675</id><published>2009-03-15T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T01:41:41.036-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Awesome bunch</title><content type='html'>I was meant to type in something for this paragraph, apparently I have forgotten what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MUM: I'm cooking curry tonight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: Indian style?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAD: Don't be so prejudice!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: Do you love me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SUMMER: Are you trying to ask something from me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: Yeah, classic Chanel flap bag.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;PASTOR: You know 'To Kill A Mocking Bird' is a nice read.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; DAD: Shouldn't you be reading the Bible instead?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TOM: *slaps*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: *slaps*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TOM: That's not fair!! *whines*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAD: You see that old lady wearing that sexy bare back?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: What about her?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DAD: She &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;doesn't have any teeth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DOMINIC: What will you tattoo on your stomach if you wanted to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: 'Liposuction'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt; Sanasaaaaaa!! Sanasaaaaaaaaaa!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DOMINIC: You are bloody annoying!&lt;br /&gt;DAD: But this song is brilliant!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: Do you like my name?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: I love your name!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: Thanks. I love your name too!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DOMINIC: Stop talking to yourself, dip stick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DOMINIC: You are pretty stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: You are stupid like a kumquat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DOMINIC: What is 'kumquat'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DOMINIC: Stop using big words. I don't understand you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: Ok, I shall stop using bombastic words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DOMINIC: What is 'bombastic' har?&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/7445327012596180816-6004919803324032675?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/6004919803324032675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=6004919803324032675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6004919803324032675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6004919803324032675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/02/awesome-bunch.html' title='Awesome bunch'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-6166640271330968962</id><published>2009-03-12T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T21:14:57.935-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Janelle</title><content type='html'>My seven-year-old niece is funny. But she doesn't know it. I think..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: Do you speak to your classmates in Chinese or English?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;JANELLE: I don't have friends. So, I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; talk to my teacher instead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: Oh, in Chinese?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;JANELLE: No, English. But her English a bit out one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;JANELLE: This is my class photo! And I don't like this girl *points*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: Why not?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;JANELLE: She likes to steal things.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;DEBRA: Oh. She very poor one is it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JANELLE: I think so lah.&lt;br /&gt;COUSIN: DEBRA!!!! How can you call her friend "poor"?&lt;br /&gt;JANELLE: WHAT! She's not my friend!!&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/7445327012596180816-6166640271330968962?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/6166640271330968962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=6166640271330968962' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6166640271330968962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6166640271330968962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/03/janelle.html' title='Janelle'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-5741487569654626842</id><published>2009-03-04T00:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T02:37:51.718-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Testimonial</title><content type='html'>Since Melissa dedicated a blog post to me, which I find swell, I thought I should do the same too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very demanding that could make one cry. For example, I once dropped a piece of chicken thigh on the college's library carpet (which I went to very recently &amp;amp; seeing the stain of the chicken sauce still there, &amp;amp; that the librarian giving me such a look that she urges herself not to laugh at), &amp;amp; she made me eat it because she claimed that she marinated the fat thigh all night &amp;amp; woke up early on purpose to pass it to me. (You were freaking one &amp;amp; a quarter hour late, you egg). But it's not like I cried cos she doesn't scare me. Fool *points*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what is she an epitome of because she said I was one of an ice berg &amp;amp; I feel that that is the most powerful epitome in the world, that it would be unfair to class her, even one level lower than me, to be an epitome of something. *Flips hair*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her time management is simply &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;exemplary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like her potato salad. It is very amusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the next time when &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; see me, you can bring these along with you to give me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 225px; height: 225px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5IQHrrdt6HE/SJy66KqeExI/AAAAAAAAAHw/aygzlyyD5YI/s400/easy-ravioli-ck-592279-l.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 209px; height: 209px;" src="http://img.timeinc.net/recipes/i/recipes/ck/06/07/potato-salad-ck-1206167-x.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.selltop1handbag.com/images/A25167beige.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eheh. Sorry leh. But I also want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 172px; height: 172px;" src="http://www.freshfromtheboat.com/market/images/keylimepie.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh right. Melissa is an epitome of a cook. Which involves loads of carbohydrates in her food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like carbohydrates.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-5741487569654626842?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/5741487569654626842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=5741487569654626842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5741487569654626842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5741487569654626842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/03/testimonial.html' title='Testimonial'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5IQHrrdt6HE/SJy66KqeExI/AAAAAAAAAHw/aygzlyyD5YI/s72-c/easy-ravioli-ck-592279-l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-737847600343710670</id><published>2009-02-26T03:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T03:41:01.325-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bugs</title><content type='html'>Dominic gives the funniest replies ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;ME: Do you like that "bugs in my tummy" song?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DOM: No.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-737847600343710670?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/737847600343710670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=737847600343710670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/737847600343710670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/737847600343710670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/02/bugs.html' title='Bugs'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-904241510924087412</id><published>2009-02-12T07:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T07:38:59.897-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate almost everybody</title><content type='html'>You don't have to tell me that I can't. You make as if your balls are the spherest in this world or that anybody even want to bother to rape your boobs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at a lot of people, but that doesn't mean I want to get to know them. I don't have friends &amp;amp; I'm not upset or whatsoever to think why I even bother. Because I don't. You don't have to remind me that people don't like me &amp;amp; that is why I don't have friends. I never asked for your opinion. Neither do I need any of those fuckish craps of yours, which you think is so smart that it could be a theory one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop being such childish motherfuckers. When some local girl dates, let's say a Caucasian, you go on commenting that the girl is a whore. But when you see some random Caucasian boy, you say that he is gorgeous. Go get fat, okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to 'strike a conversation', just get to the bloody point. You don't have to come &amp;amp; ask me why don't you even dare to try liposuction. Just get to the fucking point, for everyone else's sake. Or I could at least take a guess that you're so fat that you can't even find your arse hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't have to tell me that I didn't get a full 4.0 CGPA, that's why it makes me look like some dumb shit. If you get that particular CGPA &amp;amp; the system allows to give you an extra point 5 to that, then I take that you are really smart &amp;amp; that you make everybody else look like dumb shit heads. Clearly, you are not all that yourself or could at least try to think what the hell is a 'googol'. So preach your fuckery in a random third world country for all I care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since when did people get so materialistic? Last week, I got my birthday friend something small but meaningful, at least in my opinion, as it was a doll which symbolised happiness. Until two other blonde friends told me that I was being 'cheapskate' for giving her something like that. So they bought something from TopShop instead. And they tell me that I am being cheapskate. I don't know where you learn that crap from, but it seems to me that you purchased TopShop items for her, so that she would love you to death &amp;amp; be your friend forever. Just cos you got her something expensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am surrounded by morons. So God help me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-904241510924087412?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/904241510924087412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=904241510924087412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/904241510924087412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/904241510924087412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-hate-almost-everybody.html' title='I hate almost everybody'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-808663256734708182</id><published>2009-02-07T00:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T00:43:29.841-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends</title><content type='html'>I hate the fact then when friends plan something with you, then end up cancelling it just cos they forgot to clip their toe nails. Also those who say that they will be coming over to your house, &amp;amp; ends up texting you, asking you to go over to their house instead. You think you own every fucktard by TEXTING people rather than calling, to come over to your house instead? What? You're saying that my house isn't big enough to fit one whole Brady bunch?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there are those who said that they will come at this precise time, but at least half an hour past that, they're still not here. And when you call them up, they're either still at home or clipping their toe nails or injecting botox to their faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If friendship is such a joke to you, then maybe you should feel sorry for your own lives instead. I'm not saying that my friends are like that (maybe one or two, which I dunno why I even bother calling them my "friends"). I'm just stating my point in general.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also hate other morons outside my circle with different, obvious reasons. Especially those with stupendously fucked up theories, which they think will benefit the youth of the nation. And also those who try too hard to be sarcastic &amp;amp; humourous at the same time. You are already fucking annoying as it is to even at least try to be anywhere close to that. Your jokes will always fall flat on the floor &amp;amp; your sarcasm will always be as hurtful as the ones who are really sarcastic. I don't care how many years you had been practicing to be anywhere close to that. You're still not. Okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**No wonder everyone else has "the best of friends in the whole wide world". They simply blend in well together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**I have decided to add two asterisks in front to make the sentence more lively. Friendship is supposed to be lively.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gag.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-808663256734708182?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/808663256734708182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=808663256734708182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/808663256734708182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/808663256734708182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/02/friends.html' title='Friends'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-7578383338015192778</id><published>2009-02-02T09:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T10:36:41.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Script</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Tonight almost everyone will be in trouble as the "seven days" threat (but it's so real that you all have to panic) is almost up. And tonight is the night."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Actually, I do not know what I'm talking about &amp;amp; thought that was an action movie, I recently purchased."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"For years, I had been cleaning floors &amp;amp; picking up every shit that was shat on. Fuck it all. One day I'm going to be the President of The United States of America."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to come up with three useful sentences, that I wish to hear in that movie I was talking about &lt;a href="http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/01/hello-again.html"&gt;earlier.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It shall be very amusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;It also involves guns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pow pow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-7578383338015192778?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/7578383338015192778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=7578383338015192778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7578383338015192778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7578383338015192778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/02/script.html' title='Script'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-8995078395391172690</id><published>2009-01-26T01:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T10:37:12.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fireworks</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://img261.imageshack.us/img261/5486/orange01ft3.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A cow for this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Happy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Australia&lt;/span&gt; Day :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-8995078395391172690?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/8995078395391172690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=8995078395391172690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/8995078395391172690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/8995078395391172690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/01/chinese-new-year.html' title='Fireworks'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-2795914290608061736</id><published>2009-01-12T23:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T08:49:27.657-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Short &amp; stout</title><content type='html'>Technically, I was not around during my first day of college. Though I resumed on the second day. And before college actually reopened, I took the effort to pay my fees first &amp;amp; I even asked for my timetable if it was any possible. The clerk told me that I could only get it when I go back to college &amp;amp; said it was okay if I go back on the second day instead. That isn't so bad, right?! Moreover, there was confirmation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second day, I went to the office &amp;amp; asked the person in charge for the timetable. And she started to rape me to death with interrogation. And mind you, she did not even take the effort to walk up to me to ask leh. I'm fine with interrogation, but she had to do that by raising her frog croaks across the room with every coconut heads in between us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;BITCH: Why didn't you take it yesterday?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME: I was away. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;BITCH: Why did you go away when you know college started yesterday?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME: I already informed another clerk &amp;amp; she said it was fine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;BITCH: What fine?? Why didn't you come yesterday?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME: Because I was away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;BITCH: Away for what??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME: &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*Getting irritated*&lt;/span&gt; Away for fun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;BITCH: So what do you expect me to do now??!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME: You can give me the timetable &amp;amp; forms, I asked earlier. (Like DUH right!?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;BITCH: &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*Annoyed*&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;What course??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;You must also give me a letter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME: Should I?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;BITCH: You didn't know?! Like that also need to tell you?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME: Yeah, I didn't know. Tell me more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;BITCH: You're not a new student, you should know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: Yeah, I'm an &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;old &lt;/span&gt;student.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;BITCH: So why did you go away?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ME: Syiok. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*walks off*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you. I'm not writing any shitcake letter. I already informed the office BEFORE college even bloody reopened. And you were not there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another time which was months ago, regarding a worthless medical certificate which she refused to accept from me because my doctor issued it using a cheapskate blue pen, rather than black pen. Can the world's population get any stupider by the minute? What kind of a fucktard does not receive medical certificates written in blue pen?&lt;br /&gt;I like my health &amp;amp; wealth a lot. As if I would want to waste my money just to get an arse wipe piece of paper written by a doctor for you. Or risk my health with unnecessary medication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you were wondering, she is a short &amp;amp; stout bitch who thinks she needs breast implants. That explains why she did not take the effort to walk up to me, rather than interrogating me across the room.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-2795914290608061736?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/2795914290608061736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=2795914290608061736' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2795914290608061736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2795914290608061736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2009/01/short-stout.html' title='Short &amp; stout'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-8691846920896032683</id><published>2008-12-25T09:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T07:19:16.469-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Egoistic</title><content type='html'>I think it's awesome to host a show, based on a true story. It's great to have high hopes that you have done well but not to the extent that you tell everybody that, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"The show we host was as good as Broadway."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who are you to compare yourself to Broadway? It is like you are comparing yourself to the, let's say impossible because of your mediocrity. Do you know how much people pay to watch one Broadway show?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's great to have optimism on but by saying something ridiculous like that, makes you a laughing stock instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.opti.dyndns.org/%7Ejl_ban/leann/photos/photo3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;Cookies I baked earlier. So cute! Like me! Ok, just kidding. Actually, not really. Only joking. Ok, shut up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Time to pretend!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall send literal letters to my pen pals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall stop blogging for this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then continue next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy new year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-8691846920896032683?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/8691846920896032683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=8691846920896032683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/8691846920896032683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/8691846920896032683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2008/12/true-story.html' title='Egoistic'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-3313521100342123649</id><published>2008-11-18T01:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T08:15:07.144-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gala night</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="width: 400px; height: 201px;" src="http://img296.imageshack.us/img296/1345/groupcropped01up0.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dance with you soon ♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-3313521100342123649?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/3313521100342123649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=3313521100342123649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/3313521100342123649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/3313521100342123649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2008/11/gala-night.html' title='Gala night'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-5744597998635263335</id><published>2008-11-06T06:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T07:13:19.928-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anthropology</title><content type='html'>Firstly, I hate it when people force me to do something when I detests doing something I loathe. Like eating something that does not make happy eating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"You must eat everything! Think of the people in Africa."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why must I think of poverty-stricken people in Africa when I eat? And how does thinking of them give me a healthier appetite? If you pity them so much, send food to Africa lah! I eat as less as I want, dammit! If you like the food so much, stop forcing me to eat with you and go to hell already.&lt;br /&gt;You make me suffer from malnutrition instead, when you act like some blonde and brainless aristocrat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, when a horrible encounter had taken place and you some how experienced it, keep the fucking bullshit to yourself. I don't care how true it is or that you have some stupendous 6th sense which nobody else owns. I don't care if you are trying to do some ghost buster shit over here, just go and haunt yourself rather than scare everyone else. Nobody asked for your stories or myths or legends, you stupid fucks. You have already scared many, so we don't need the whole cow dung to be scared as well. Or it seems like all of you monkey balls are prepared for an apocalypse that you have to scare the whole cat litter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't see how this has become any worst for almost every student body anymore. So don't come and play God and tell us that it will past. We know when it actually passes, shit you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do pity anthropologists, and perhaps psychologists as well, having to study about testicles like you lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is true that the world is not a safe place anymore. Having idiots surrounding you, and it is not like we have a choice. And come to think of it, I think WE'RE the ones who should deserve the most sympathy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-5744597998635263335?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/5744597998635263335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=5744597998635263335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5744597998635263335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5744597998635263335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2008/11/anthropology.html' title='Anthropology'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-4669038668751333193</id><published>2008-11-02T01:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T10:26:25.283-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Save the horses</title><content type='html'>I was looking for a photograph of a horse which looks solemnly depress out of nowhere with no future anymore that it is thinking of taking it's own life away when no one is watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 268px; height: 201px;" src="http://everyrider.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/horse_alone.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite a bit of the resemblance, this photo is not what I was looking for. Though it does seem depress from nowhere. But I sense that there is a flicker of hope for this one and wishes to continue with it's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 288px; height: 207px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3296/2425231964_5db2344b93_o.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This horse looks more perturbed than solemnly depressed. I think it will continue living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;"It is not what I am looking for."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"&gt;"Please leave before I strangle you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sue the artists; depressionise the horse with no flicker of hope left. Or I will strangle you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what to suggest..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-4669038668751333193?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/4669038668751333193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=4669038668751333193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4669038668751333193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4669038668751333193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-horse.html' title='Save the horses'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-2645809699569403728</id><published>2008-10-23T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-28T01:59:14.174-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Americans must vote wisely</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;"At the time, when the war started, you said it was going to be quick and easy, you said we knew where the weapons of mass destruction was, you were wrong. You said we were going to be greeted as liberators. You were wrong. You said that there was no history of violence between Shiite and Sunni. And you were wrong."&lt;br /&gt;- Senator Barack Obama on McCain.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever it is, I support Obama. But I do not get this certain thing that people refrain from voting him because they fear that he will screw up his promises, or that his promises seem impossible to keep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.... and then they end up wanting to vote for McCain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I really do not see how things can become worse for your country anymore. Fine, maybe it can but try going towards the right way this time for goodness sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You think Obama's transcendent change will not turn out to be a happy one, or not. And refuse to vote for him, because you do not want to risk that. But you are taking the risk of siding the administration that has failed you for eight years??? And that is your justification for not voting for Obama?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You lot are really a clever herd of dugongs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, McCain supporters, I just would like to know what do you really see in someone who has failed you for almost one decade (that is a lot, almost a dozen). Yes, you may have your own opinions and doubts towards someone, in which you think may break his promises but since it is justice for all, what is wrong of giving him the benefit of the doubt?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-2645809699569403728?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/2645809699569403728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=2645809699569403728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2645809699569403728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/2645809699569403728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2008/10/americans-must-vote-wisely.html' title='Americans must vote wisely'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-1671243207934008795</id><published>2008-10-11T03:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T03:17:49.089-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant on movies</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="width: 277px; height: 57px;" src="http://img264.imageshack.us/img264/6006/sdue9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I do not understand why everybody is saying that this movie is the bomb. But what was good was the story line and the accuracy of music, used. I did find a scene or two, funny. It is a nice movie, just did not expect it to be as lame as other people reviewed it not to be. Though, it kicks High School Musical and Camp Rock's shitty arses, any day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 291px; height: 217px;" src="http://www.jimhillmedia.com/mb/images/upload/Camp-Rock-Logo-2-web.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not find this movie great at all. How is it better than High School Musical? Jonas Brothers? I thought it was as lame as HSM. But come to think of it, this movie does not actually suck so much. Because Miley Cyrus was not in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.neostudios.com.sg/images/posterMne2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not find anything so funny about this movie, as many people say. I thought some of the jokes were merely cringe-worthy. True that, it was quite a depressing movie, yet so pitiful towards some of the characters. I found it difficult to cry, since every other shit head cried when watching this movie, and say that I will most definitely cry when I watch it, too. Turns out, I did not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess maybe I am too critical. Or other people just failed to be as convincing enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-1671243207934008795?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/1671243207934008795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=1671243207934008795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1671243207934008795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1671243207934008795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2008/10/rant-on-movies.html' title='Rant on movies'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-7126492490535123498</id><published>2008-09-23T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T11:47:46.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jane Austen</title><content type='html'>Laugh, but I do see some parallels between these results and my social self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As analytical to every detail and action,&lt;br /&gt;and calculation to whatever there can be.&lt;br /&gt;Memory towards the seemingly insignificant&lt;br /&gt;and visual processing as with the processing of facial expressions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I must be somewhat silly now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched one of those Jane Austen classics once more and have been merely always been affected by every single one - and the after-show conversation.&lt;br /&gt;Particularly what was watched, it seemed gloomy. And then it is just so sad to hear that one of them had to marry an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;I will never be able to express the looming ball of darkness that I felt shelter me from any possible happiness unless I sit and have a deep reflection of sorts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want a clue, it is about how painful it was to feel for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Elizabeth&lt;/span&gt; for being in a solemn mood at some point. I was appalled to know that no one else seems to feel as gloomy for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Elizabeth&lt;/span&gt;, as I do. Contrary of whom portrayed this character quite well, yes - in a completely different context.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am deeply solemn, that is judging from how this classic can leave me in such pessimism approaching the wee hours, when I have school, hours later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's not get me further started into this whole gloomy thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-7126492490535123498?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/7126492490535123498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=7126492490535123498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7126492490535123498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7126492490535123498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2008/09/jane-austen.html' title='Jane Austen'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-4734524300373921429</id><published>2008-09-17T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T04:02:32.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainbow cupcake</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="width: 322px; height: 214px;" src="http://img257.imageshack.us/img257/2072/rainbowcupcake01tr4.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;For Joan K.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;"18, and old"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-4734524300373921429?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/4734524300373921429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=4734524300373921429' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4734524300373921429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4734524300373921429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2008/08/rainbow-cupcake.html' title='Rainbow cupcake'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-7023432713501709777</id><published>2008-09-11T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T11:18:23.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The clerk with no business of her own</title><content type='html'>Foreign language class was in progress. And then our teacher had decided to give my class a break, fair enough. Went outside of the door entrance, and stood RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE ENTRANCE where I am visible to observant people inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time was up, so I had to go back in, to my dismay. And then this clerk approached me and started to rape me to death with interrogating questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;CLERK: You know you are not supposed to leave the building or not?!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;ME: I did not leave the building.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;CLERK: So, where did you go?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;ME: I did not go anywhere. I just stood outside the entrance with my friend *points at my friend*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;CLERK: I know you bluff! I saw you drove off somewhere! WHERE DID YOU GO?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;ME: We did not drive anywhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;CLERK: I saw with my own eyes that you and your friend drove away. WHERE DID YOU GO?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;ME: Must I answer that again?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;CLERK: Don't be so rude!! I know you were outside for quite sometime and drove off somewhere and came back late!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;ME: 15 minutes can drive around the whole of Penang Island already is it? (OMG, is this the clerk who handles our tuition fees?!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;CLERK: Don't be so rude!!! WHERE DID YOU GO?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;ME: Hmmmppphhh..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;CLERK: What "Hmmmphhh"?!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;ME: I am trying to think who else saw me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;CLERK: You wait. I call the security guard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;ME: I am a very busy person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;CLERK: Bilibalabulumalamulukakakuku (What? I don't understand Tamil).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:85%;" &gt;*Hangs up the phone*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;CLERK: You can go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;ME: You satisfied already ah?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;CLERK: *Dirty stare*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black, skinny bitch! See your face also tulan already.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-7023432713501709777?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/7023432713501709777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=7023432713501709777' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7023432713501709777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/7023432713501709777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2008/09/clerk-with-no-business-of-her-own.html' title='The clerk with no business of her own'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-6951161595483497623</id><published>2008-09-06T06:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T07:08:50.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Animals</title><content type='html'>I understand people's love towards animals, but most of them go way beyond the extend that they become compulsively obsessive that you must eat vegetables and only vegetables alone, so that animals don't die, suffering a tragic death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vegans tell me that I do not love animals because I eat them and that I should stop animal cruelty by stop eating them. I don't hate animals. I like cows, because beef is tasty. And so is chicken. Therefore, you cannot say that I hate animals for having such sumptuous meat to feast on for later. I also like single-cell organisms, like amoebas. If I were to eat amoebas, I bet you won't stop me from eating them either because it seems like you vegans only care about multi-cell organisms, apart from the single-cell. How loving are you lot towards animals, eh?&lt;br /&gt;I think you vegans should stop vegetable cruelty. Because all you only know how to do is talk big and eat rabbit food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So don't come and lecture me to stop eating meat or what's not. And stop asking me why am I so cruel as it is to even eat fried chicken or a beef burger. They are delicious. So why the hell would I want to turn into a vegetarian because of that? In that case vegetables taste like chicken kiev.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, I do not understand why some people must take their pets out with them when they want to have their dinner. Moreover, dressing your pets up in horrendous clothes which you think looks, "fashionable". If I was the pet, I'd most probably die of embarrassment. If you really did love your pets, you would not dress it up so that it will look like some stupid piece of walking shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I just do not really understand why people must copy Paris Hilton and name their dogs Tinkerbell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-6951161595483497623?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/6951161595483497623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=6951161595483497623' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6951161595483497623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/6951161595483497623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2008/09/animals.html' title='Animals'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-3606681202122902127</id><published>2008-08-30T05:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T02:06:37.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to pronounce my name</title><content type='html'>There are still several who don't know how to pronounce my name. Confirmed!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get really very irritated when people mispronounce my name. No matter how hard I try to correct them, they keep repeating the same mistake, and also end up calling me by stupefied nicknames, which I resent. You know how tedious it is to correct you buggers or not? It is like teaching a fish how to breathe on land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, my name is pronounced as &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'THERE-BRA'&lt;/span&gt;; not &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'DEE-BRA'&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'THERE-BAH'&lt;/span&gt;. My 'E' and 'R', are not silent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is just like mispronouncing &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'Dolce'&lt;/span&gt;, to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'Dollz'&lt;/span&gt;; when it is supposed to be &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'Dol-che'&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, that is why you people are so stupid, because you do not take this seriously. So, stop laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then you people result in calling me Debbie or what's not. I hate being called Debbie. Especially by people, whom are no where close to me. I do not mind my family calling me that. Other than them, do not ever call me Debbie. I am very meticulous on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blog a post on how to pronounce my name already so tiresome can?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-3606681202122902127?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/3606681202122902127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=3606681202122902127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/3606681202122902127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/3606681202122902127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2008/08/how-to-pronounce-my-name.html' title='How to pronounce my name'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-4447276061011863969</id><published>2008-08-25T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T07:54:33.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant on liars</title><content type='html'>I am not saying I never lied. But then you have those people who bluff themselves just to fit in to the society or for whatever prospects they have, themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, you have those sort of promoters some what persuading you to sign up for whatever shit that is worthy of your crap, by taking up so much of your time and telling all the goodness that the particular thing you sign up for, will serve you with great benefits; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Hey, would you like to sign up for this? It's free. If you sign up for this, you will get free gifts and what's not."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is a bunch of platypus shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing in this world is ever free. Ever heard of the saying, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Time is money"? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, these people waste your time by telling you useless crap, but make it seem interesting and make it seem that they are facts and tell you that when you sign up with this, you will get free things. As I said, nothing in this world is ever free. And they waste your time, therefore they also waste your money. Even if they did not waste your time by persuading you like hell, you still pay extra without knowing that you are actually paying for it, and not getting it for free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, have you ever heard of the saying, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"The truth shall set you free"&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;Do you think the murderer who brutally murdered Altantunya Shaarriibbuu, goes to the judge and confesses, "Yeah, I murdered that bitch.", will he be set free??&lt;br /&gt;(Okay lah. Maybe there will be extra charges for calling Altantunya a bitch).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there are some people, who claim themselves Eurasian, when basically they will never be and never will be closed to that; just because they are not proud of who they are, and feel that being Eurasian will give you an "exotic" feeling. *coughsdawnyangcoughs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to lie, at least be good at it. Don't just claim that you once studied in the United States, in which you never did, and then fake some stupid Americanized accent when clearly, it sounds like a 1-year-old, actual American baby, trying to pronounce whether it is "Toe-mah-toe" or "Toe-mae-toe". *coughsdawnyangcoughs*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Don't sue me hor. I have no money hor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, once in school, I apparently "forgot" to bring my book to school and was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;nearly&lt;/span&gt; punished. Why &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;nearly&lt;/span&gt;, and not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;Because I actually told my teacher that my book had cancer and died, and she actually believed me!!!!!!!!!!! (What? I really did not get any demerits. &lt;s&gt;So some white lies has some truth in it&lt;/s&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But this is different. It was obviously for self-defense. Pffft. *swifts hair*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-4447276061011863969?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/4447276061011863969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=4447276061011863969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4447276061011863969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/4447276061011863969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2008/08/rant-on-liars.html' title='Rant on liars'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-5754987087434088969</id><published>2008-08-21T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T07:46:09.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rant on songs</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This is wholly based on my humble opinion or wholly based as a matter of facts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever felt like cringing your teeth when/after listening to some stupid song which totally wasted your time, when your time deserves to be spent listening to better songs with better lyrics?&lt;br /&gt;But I do not get why some people can like some trashy group who dare call themselves a "band" when they do not even know how to sing at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First up, we have Destiny's Child:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 303px; height: 301px;" src="http://www.dance-lyrics.com/ama/other_songs_b000bf0dhe.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one of their songs go, &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;"Say my name, say my name...."&lt;/span&gt; blah, blah, blah..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What NAME? I do not even know your name, even if I did, I wouldn't want to be saying your names. We only know the name of your mum's, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Destiny.&lt;/span&gt; And that you are the child of Destiny. Or children of Destiny. Whatever floats your boat. Or float your BOATS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, we have The Pussycat Dolls:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.plong.com/MusicCatalog%5CP%5CPussycat%20Dolls,%20The%20-%20PCD%5CPussycat%20Dolls,%20The%20-%20PCD.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pre-apologise to those who are absolutely in love with this group of pussycats, who call themselves a "band", or preferably "dolls". Because this is the stupidest groupie that has been made in music history ever, in my opinion. Why? They cannot even sing, especially the lead singer. Like what the hell? I do not know why is she even the lead singer in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you get trashy songs from them like, 'Buttons'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Come on, loosen up my buttons baby.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then another, 'Don'cha'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Don'cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me....&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, don't go telling us to loosen up your buttons, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;babies.&lt;/span&gt; Because you might want to put some shirt on first to allow some cheap skate pervert to even loosen up those buttons of yours, if you even have any.&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, I do not wish to be as trashy as you. HOT?! How self-centered of you pussycats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it me or some people are stupid enough to even invite them for the MTV Asia Awards? To me, I thought they actually wasted the first bit of the whole awards show, seriously. Nicole Scherzinger cannot even sing, for goodness sake! Why is she even a "singer" in the first place? They did not even win a single award leh! Some more think I am being mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also think their stupid "Girlicious" or what&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; -cious&lt;/span&gt; reality TV show about searching the next Pussycat Doll or some shit, I think it is such a waste of money and air time and also advertisements. Which lame shit wants to be the next Pussycat Doll anyway? Not like they benefit from a group which you dare call yourselves a "band". Yeah, you pussycats are really self-centered. I THINK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, we have Aly &amp;amp; AJ:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 296px; height: 221px;" src="http://photo.sing365.com/music/Image.nsf/Aly-AJ-image/A02A086FDF5B8F0248257059000A0866/$file/aly-aj-2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing much against these blondes. (I am not saying they are stupid either). But one of their songs, "Potential Breakup Song", was probably one of another song with pretty much stupefied lyrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;It took too long x3 (for you to call back)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;And normally I would just forget that,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;Except for the fact it was my birthday,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;My stupid birthday....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, they are telling us that if their boyfriends take too long to call them back on their birthdays, their birthdays blatantly become stupid. Really? You wished you were not born??&lt;br /&gt;Because if your birthday blatantly becomes stupid, you would probably jump off the cliff instead of being so fussy over this over a song. Hell, I would be pretty miserable if my boyfriend did not call me on my birthday, too. But my birthday becomes stupid over that? Wow, I really wish I was not born too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then they go on breaking up with their boyfriends, just because their birthday already becomes stupid and they immediately feel the stupidness, instantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 156px; height: 255px;" src="http://www.kale.com/buckkale/barney.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;I love you, you love me....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I DO NOT LOVE YOU.&lt;/span&gt; I do not even know who the hell are you. I wonder why do children even bother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or not, how can you call them "children"?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids, start listening to good songs. (Well, not like I am saying anything about High School Musical, either).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, and then I wonder...&lt;br /&gt;How do people like Vanessa Hudgens become so well-liked among people, for just prancing around in some low-budget movie...?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-5754987087434088969?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/5754987087434088969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=5754987087434088969' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5754987087434088969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5754987087434088969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2008/08/rant-on-songs.html' title='Rant on songs'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-5679334724166191050</id><published>2008-08-14T22:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T10:12:48.467-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beijing 2008 Olympics'/><title type='text'>Discrimination</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;(Long post ahead).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 324px; height: 202px;" src="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/telegraph/multimedia/archive/00789/lin-yang-460_789580c.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Little girl who can't sing on the left, was chosen over the girl who can sing on the right, because she was apparently, prettier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, they chose Lin Miaoke over Yang Peiyi for the looks and the main consideration for the national interests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I do not think this is much of discrimination. Hell, I would be sad and miserable if I was the actual singer, and get replaced by a prettier person who has a nicer set of teeth. But you have to admit it; now the whole world knows who the real singer is. Isn't that crediting the ACTUAL SINGER?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, this whole thing is called dubbing. So, what is wrong with that? We live in a world together with plastics, people we hate, trashy celebrities, who walk the same surface as this earth as we do. So, for all these times, you people are not used to it and still say that China is discriminating just because the Chinese DARED to admit this? Would YOU even dare to admit this??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many talented Asian actors/actresses out there who would definitely own the stage and live under the lime light, but yet they are not chosen because they are &lt;u&gt;&lt;b&gt;Asians.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt; And all the spotlight go to people with blonde hair and blue eyes. So, why can't the WHOLE WORLD see that as DISCRIMINATION, other than those who get treated badly? Even the movies made in Hollywood or wherever, people other than the casts themselves even have to dub the movie here and there before it actually hits screens. And yet viewers who do not know shit can say the movie is brilliant or what's not, like High School Musical. You think Zac Efron is so great as it is to sing his own songs? Oh please. He was just singing someone else's voice, while getting all the lime light. Just because he is probably prettier than the real High School Musical singer, for Troy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a matter of fact, China is growing economically and coming up to it's name. And it happens to be a fact that a lot of leading, popular countries are intimidated by that fact. One of the fireworks scenes may have been prerecorded, but the rest were real, weren't they not? So, that is not very disappointing after all, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;China, being the host for the Olympics this year, it is such a great honour to them, and they even took the trouble to have so many performances for the opening ceremony. They wanted to impress the world, and they did. So, I think it is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;the main consideration for the national interest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If China was really a discriminating country, they won't even dare tell the whole world who the real singer is. If they were to say that Lin Miaoke were to sing the song ALL BY HERSELF, then you can call that discriminating. Other than that, I do not think it is no where near discrimination at all. I highly doubt, or better, NEVER will come to a realisation that any of YOU out there would even DARE to tell the whole world about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine, if you think that Yang Peiyi will grow up having the thought that she is ugly, that she had to be replaced by another better looking girl to sing her voice. Sure, she would have that thought but she was the one who agreed to sing in the first place. And replacing her is definitely not a last minute gesture, mind you. So, you pretty much get what I mean. If you think she's going to have this thought for life when she grows up, how do you think the boy who sang Zac Efron's part for the first installment of High School Musical, feel? Moreover, I'm very sure he is old enough to understand that "he is not as good looking as Zac Efron".&lt;br /&gt;Have you thought of how &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;he &lt;/span&gt;would feel too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is so intimidating about the Chinese that you loathe so much? There are many things China had done to help other countries, such as America, United Kingdom, and all those leading countries, too. And yet the Chinese were not appreciated anyhow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody I know, says that the opening ceremony for the Beijing Olympics was the best they had ever seen, myself included. Apart from the fake singer and only one prerecorded fireworks scene, overall it was bloody brilliant. If you people who are against this are trying to sabotage the Chinese, then I think all of you should really go to hell. Because I have never seen any opening ceremony for the Olympics, that grand before in my life. Can you even come up with such an opening ceremony THAT grand for the Olympics? When pigs can fly, perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a Chinese myself. And ever since the day I was born, I was damn proud of the fact that I was, am, and forever will be proud to be a Chinese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People, who think their races are so much off better than Chinese, call us&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; "Ching Chong China people", "Chinks"&lt;/span&gt; or what's not. Why don't the whole world see that as discrimination? And I also do not get why people think Eurasians are so "exotic" and they have such "exotic" features and looks. And some people who are ashamed of who they are, claim themselves Eurasian and what's not, like &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dawn Yang.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you people really want to be THAT bias, and keep saying that China is a discriminating country just because 0.5% out of 100% of the Beijing Olympics was not "real", then I think you should show the world what you've got. Which I think, you people have &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NONE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-5679334724166191050?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/5679334724166191050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=5679334724166191050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5679334724166191050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/5679334724166191050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2008/08/china-is-discrimating.html' title='Discrimination'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7445327012596180816.post-1570543407184909786</id><published>2008-08-12T03:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T11:26:59.264-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to send a subliminal message</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="width: 335px; height: 242px;" src="http://img516.imageshack.us/img516/2771/chips01hr9.png" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;My masterpiece&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they shamelessly serve you "chips" that look like that (not even the crumbs), &amp;amp; give you a ridiculous amount of chili sauce instead, waste it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And write any mean messages you can think of. Like, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"my ex-boyfriend's horrible cologne smells better than this shit"&lt;/span&gt; or anything short. No point taking up your time to send them long subliminal messages anyway. Cos they're idiots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or simple acronyms would be best.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7445327012596180816-1570543407184909786?l=spenchyy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/feeds/1570543407184909786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7445327012596180816&amp;postID=1570543407184909786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1570543407184909786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7445327012596180816/posts/default/1570543407184909786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://spenchyy.blogspot.com/2008/08/western-food.html' title='How to send a subliminal message'/><author><name>Debra</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='30' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/00/91/20371900/1_278156488l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
