Seen enough of me yet? No? Well then, here's good news: I'm back.

This holiday period is killing me. Having nowhere else besides town to set my foot on, I'd rather stay home and fret over prom night, which is less than a week away. Currently, my wardrobe only houses t-shirts - not that I didn't make any effort to search for presentable apparels of course; they just didn't have my size. What's more, my hair bears a striking resemblence to Einstein's (if only I had his brains). In short, I am dead. If I don't do anything about it in the next few days, I swear I'm going turn up for the event looking like poo.

The previous paragraph doesn't seem to give any explanation on why I'm back at blogger. The reason's actually very simple:

I is boring. (Yes, it's another one of my meek excuses.)

N.B. The previous line is not supposed to be grammatically correct. =)

To save you from all the trouble, I have decided to move all my entries made at LJ here, just in case you haven't been reading. A word of caution though, if I'm bored, I may churn out more rubbish than you can ever imagine.

Paranoia is at work yet again.

I woke up today with a bad feeling. Something which occurred yesterday still haunted me. Still weary from the lack of sleep, I leapt out of bed and reached for - not the ocean blue PS2 controller, mind you - my cell phone. Sure enough, upon close scrutiny, two fresh new wounds, each about one-tenth the size of the period at the end of this sentence, were discovered. Scratches and I never co-exist. It's either the scratches go or, well, since I can't go anywhere, the phone goes. Desperate, I began to feverishly polish the affected part with my shirt without realizing the simple fact that scratched surfaces can never be revived to their original glories.

This was bad.

There was virtually nothing I could do. Since the two dotted wounds were within close proximity, I had thought of manually drawing an arc under them to create a smiley, so that people might think that they were there for a reason. (This was what I had been doing to my lecture notes if such misfortunes were to befall.) Eventually, I had decided against the ingenious idea as such imperfections-made-even-more-obvious would only agitate me further. Right now, my blood is boiling to the extent of evaporation, but as a person/friend/jerk/dork/good citizen I would like to warn you people about one very simple way to get your phone scratched.

Your pockets sure prevent external threats from reaching your phone, but within itself, danger can arise. Before you slot your phone inside thinking that your phone's safe, check the bloody pocket to see if there's any foreign object in it. I didn't, and when I finally reached in to retrieve my phone, I realized that there was another resident - a 20 cents coin which was staring at me with a bloody smirk, confident that it had managed to wreck my day. I looked at it in disbelief, and without further deliberation, I hurled it into a nearby drain.

You see, that is the fundamental reason why I have always believed in the saying "money is the root of all evil". Take my advice, and your phone might just live a day longer.

(Pardon the crudity - I had to make it rhyme.)

With my gaming tv still remaining unconscious, all I do daily is visit TuckerMax.com with hopes of having something to laugh at. (A word of caution: refrain from visiting Tucker unless you, like the author, have a pretty warped sense of humour.) Amusing myself nowadays seems more difficult than solving some stupid 3-D trigonometry. Going out isn't much of a solution, judging from the amount of cash being spent on a meal alone. I have, therefore, decided to stay home for the next one day. The $12 pocket money will remain intact that way, until Saturday when I'll be playing mahjong with my friends, and Sunday when I'll be catching HPatGOF for the second time (I caught it yesterday).

Speaking of the movie, it was wise not to have read the book before seeing it. It was entertaining, though not the best I've seen. I'm not going to spoil it for you, so catch it yourself and be either a) entertained like me or b) pissed like everyone else because I'm the only idiot who hasn't touched a single book of the HP series.

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You know, the elevator (or lift if you choose to call it) has got to be one of the greatest inventions ever. It prevents skinny sticks like me from having to burn fats in order to climb flights of stairs, which could otherwise very possibly turn me into a needle from a stick. That aside (in case some people might get jealous), we can also learn about things we never knew from the other passengers (is that what you call them?) in the elevator. Not necessarily useful ones though, but they definitely can be put to use someday. An example:

Passenger A: Why didn't Hello Kitty return people's greetings with a simple 'hello'?
Passenger B (friend of A): Dunno. Why?
A: Because Hello Kitty doesn't have a mouth.
Rest of the passengers: *giggle giggle*

A: Why didn't Doraemon respond when someone called him from behind?
B: *remains silent*
A: Because Doraemon doesn't have a ear.
Rotp: *giggle giggle*

A: One more. What is the difference between a mosquito and a fly?
B: *doesn't feel like answering*
A: A mosquito can fly, but a fly cannot mosquito.
Rotp: *faint*

How cool would it be to meet such species everyday, eh?

The bane of my life has expired. I am free...

... for slightly more than a month before I embark on my national slavery service journey. Sheesh.

Before the A levels I had planned to do so much, but only two days into post exam period have I realised that nothing actually materialised. I'd conjured up images of myself being glued to the swivel chair with my eyes fixed on the television screen, hands molesting the ocean blue PS2 controller. In a way, it did happen. It just wasn't what I had expected it to be. I thought my mind would be devoted to gaming and gaming alone, yet it inadvertently shifted focus to the coming Feb/Mar. That alone was sufficient to kill my interest in anything.

Maybe I'm past the gaming age.

With that hypothetical situation in mind, I rushed down to the community library and then back home, with a book in hand. Armed with a can of coffee, I settled down and began reading. All the while, my gaze seemed to penetrate the book and land on the over-heated PS2. It was then that I came to a conclusion that there was insufficient evidence to prove my hypothesis right. (WTF. I absolutely detest math, but those were the first words I had thought of.)

I exchanged the book for (guess what) the ocean blue PS2 controller, and my hands immediately accustomed to its feel instead of some foreign object like the former. Consequently, it was yet another gaming marathon. To be honest, it doesn't take a genuis to realise that things will stay this way until the bio people finish their paper on Thursday.

I am bored.

If you're bored like me, you might want to check out The Students' Sketchpad, one of the best sites I've seen.