<?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-6222682192654717867</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:09:18.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>verbal diarrhea</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thrash-talk.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6222682192654717867/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thrash-talk.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>complainqueen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18360719201796594949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222682192654717867.post-6207072575898578868</id><published>2007-10-24T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T00:30:15.512-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rain rain go away</title><content type='html'>There are a lot of things I want to blog about, but I cannot remember what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me ramble ramble ramble!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes. I have been eating as if it is the end of the world tomorrow. Let's just say that "eating in moderation" does not exist in my dictionary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I must rant. Last night, or technically this morning, I stayed up late to do an essay. It is not finished, but I just need to type my conclusions so by my standards IT'S FINISHED. I went to bed at 3.30 am, woke at 8.00 just minutes ago. Why?&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm supposed to host a tea party/ breakfast picnic on my college lawn today! I was super excited and motivated! I wanted to finish as much of my essay as possible so that I could enjoy my picnic.&lt;br /&gt;Now, the weather outside looks like SHIT. WHAT IS THIS?! WHAT IS THIS?!?!?! Wah lao I plan so nicely for it to be thursday because ONE of the weather forecasts say that will be cloudy but never it will rain so I thought at worst misty misty still very romantic like Pride and Prejudice. Aiyo please please please don't rain!!! :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM UPSET LA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's move on. Deep breaths, deep breaths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the IT department was monitoring my computer, I don't think they'll have a very good impression of me. I have been typing things like "Gesualdo's boyfriend", "Gesualdo homosexuality", "Gesualdo bisexual tendencies", "Gesualdo masochism". But I can justify these perverse enquiries! I have to write an essay on this Gesualdo guy, who is a MURDEROUS MASOCHISTIC MUSICIAN, and my essay title is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Gesualdo’s boyfriend. How does our understanding of the composer’s music change with attitudes towards sexuality?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My tutor comes up with the best questions and he words them in the best ways ever I tell you. Just look at that question. Does it not imply that Gesualdo is gay, if not at least bisexual? I spent 1-2 days reading up on his life, and it would be more accurate to say that I spent 1-2 days looking for his boyfriend. CANNOT FIND.&lt;br /&gt;I emailed my tutor thereafter, saying:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I've borrowed some books on Gesualdo from the music faculty library and the new college library but I can't seem to find any mention of his boyfriend. The controversial bits that I've come across are the murder of his first wife and his masochistic practices. Do you have any books or internet sources to recommend?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: normal;"&gt;His reply:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;pre class="message_body"&gt;"Not immediately to hand; just start from the idea that the wife's&lt;br /&gt;lover was, and write about how that aspect would affect your view of&lt;br /&gt;him"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Okay. I don't know about you, but that was not English to me. I am very demoralised.&lt;br /&gt;I tell people that English is my first language leh. Win already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather is still depressing. I need a hot shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Up and down... ferris wheel...&lt;br /&gt;Tell me how does it feel&lt;br /&gt;To be so high... high... high?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it lonely?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6222682192654717867-6207072575898578868?l=thrash-talk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thrash-talk.blogspot.com/feeds/6207072575898578868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6222682192654717867&amp;postID=6207072575898578868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6222682192654717867/posts/default/6207072575898578868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6222682192654717867/posts/default/6207072575898578868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thrash-talk.blogspot.com/2007/10/there-are-lot-of-things-i-want-to-blog.html' title='rain rain go away'/><author><name>complainqueen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18360719201796594949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222682192654717867.post-7993204363468044730</id><published>2007-10-23T16:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T07:41:18.439-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First we run, and then we laugh til we cry</title><content type='html'>This entry is dedicated to SAMANTHA LEE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the telepathy across the channels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the lack of action on the battlefields.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the ego-boosting starbucks conversations that thickens with our skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the unwillingness to compete with THE OTHERS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the joys of fat jeans and loser hoodies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ultimate contradiction: Winning losers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't care. Because I like us better :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I read my previous blogs, I cringe from the beginning to the end.&lt;br /&gt;Childish. Whiny. Angsty.&lt;br /&gt;If I could write beautifully and capture my "pain" (note the inverted commas) eloquently with words, then it would be a different matter. But the truth is I just cannot write that way, and if I tried I'd sound pretentious and will still cringe anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone seems to have a blogging style of their own. Char makes me marvel at the scenes she paints with her words. Sam makes me scream with laughter with her comedies.&lt;br /&gt;Me? I guess it's time to figure it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep thinking about 2 feel-good dreams I've had in the past 2 weeks. Ever had dreams where you're with someone and everything just melts away? Maybe you don't even know who he is, maybe you won't ever know, but it doesn't matter.&lt;br /&gt;Because all you wonder about is how perfectly your head fits against his neck.&lt;br /&gt;Because all you feel is his arms around you, enveloping you into the most comforting embrace.&lt;br /&gt;Because all you sense is the nearness of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it supposed to feel this good?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, what does it matter. All it takes is the freaking alarm clock on my handphone to dissolve everything and tear me away from this false sense of security. Disney isn't the only thing that makes me build unrealistic expectations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But nothing wrong with being hopeful, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You tire me out, don't want to let that happen&lt;br /&gt;A secret scream so loud, why did you let that happen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So put your arms around me&lt;br /&gt;You let me believe that you were someone else&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cos only time can take you&lt;br /&gt;So let me believe that &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; am someone else&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&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;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:VERDANA;font-size:85%;"  &gt; &lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6222682192654717867-7993204363468044730?l=thrash-talk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thrash-talk.blogspot.com/feeds/7993204363468044730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6222682192654717867&amp;postID=7993204363468044730' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6222682192654717867/posts/default/7993204363468044730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6222682192654717867/posts/default/7993204363468044730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thrash-talk.blogspot.com/2007/10/first-we-run-and-then-we-laugh-til-we.html' title='First we run, and then we laugh til we cry'/><author><name>complainqueen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18360719201796594949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222682192654717867.post-4941614291163241523</id><published>2007-10-21T04:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T08:02:28.968-07:00</updated><title type='text'>She Will Be Loved</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;She will be loved...&lt;br /&gt;She will be loved...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I jammed the ONLY photocopier in my entire college. And there's no one to un-jam it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Librarian: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;Well it's Sunday so it should be alright&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;It's MUGGING day. It's ESSAYING day.&lt;br /&gt;It's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;everyone-shares-the-one-and-only-copy-of-the-book-&lt;br /&gt;needed-for-the-same-essay-due tomorrow &lt;/span&gt;day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I hope no one else finds out it was me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I will be loved....&lt;br /&gt;I will be looooooooved....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&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/6222682192654717867-4941614291163241523?l=thrash-talk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thrash-talk.blogspot.com/feeds/4941614291163241523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6222682192654717867&amp;postID=4941614291163241523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6222682192654717867/posts/default/4941614291163241523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6222682192654717867/posts/default/4941614291163241523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thrash-talk.blogspot.com/2007/10/she-will-be-loved.html' title='She Will Be Loved'/><author><name>complainqueen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18360719201796594949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6222682192654717867.post-4047096151886057525</id><published>2007-10-10T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T16:58:07.951-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LOSER</title><content type='html'>I am loving my college life, but SHIT STILL HAPPENS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My calf has been hurting like a bitch. So i go borrow a hot water bottle from a friend. BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW TO USE IT. When I found out that I had to actually pour hot water inside it, I realised that I couldn't yank the cork thing off. So i had to hobble to ANOTHER friend's place, climbed 3 long flights of spiral stairs, before finally getting another hot water bottle which my OTHER friend so kindly heated up for me. And then I hobbled all the way back down and climbed back to my 2nd floor room and realised that I LEFT MY KEY AND HANDPHONE AT MY OTHER FRIEND'S HOUSE. So I had to go all the way back and sheepishly knock on her door to claim my essentials and then trudge back to my room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PANG SAI LA!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6222682192654717867-4047096151886057525?l=thrash-talk.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thrash-talk.blogspot.com/feeds/4047096151886057525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6222682192654717867&amp;postID=4047096151886057525' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6222682192654717867/posts/default/4047096151886057525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6222682192654717867/posts/default/4047096151886057525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thrash-talk.blogspot.com/2007/10/loser.html' title='LOSER'/><author><name>complainqueen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18360719201796594949</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
