<?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-5092863</id><updated>2012-02-23T14:41:00.694+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blistered, Not Broken</title><subtitle type='html'>It is about how my frailty is entwined with my strength. It is about the experiences in life that forge the existence in me. It is about how in simplicity, uniqueness can be found. It is about why I have a mole on my nose..</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>338</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-861993108395943951</id><published>2008-05-17T15:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T15:58:19.655+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Love of mine some day you will die, But I'll be close behind. I'll follow you into the dark. No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white; Just our hands clasped so tight, Waiting for the hint of a spark. If heaven and hell decide, That they both are satisfied, Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs:If there's no one beside you, When your soul embarks; Then I'll follow you into the dark. In</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/861993108395943951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/861993108395943951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2008_05_01_archive.html#861993108395943951' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-3726874182710670970</id><published>2007-10-20T06:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T06:10:41.441+08:00</updated><title type='text'>God played a trick on me.</title><summary type='text'>i'm at a real low in my life right now and sometimes i wish God would just hear me, so i pray everyday for direction in life. i guess He thinks it's funny when He lets me dream about my grandfather. everything was so clear. so real. so alive.so alive i woke up crying in bed.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/3726874182710670970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/3726874182710670970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html#3726874182710670970' title='God played a trick on me.'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-7600309135876808239</id><published>2007-10-19T04:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T04:42:26.664+08:00</updated><title type='text'>谢谢爱</title><summary type='text'>雨下好乱半个夜晚你不在身边怎么晚安天好蓝要和你一起看起风时由你来温暖心事简单一句说完要我们永远不会分开有眼泪也因为你灿烂你微笑因为我盛开要谢谢爱让你在我身边守护我的未来有多少美丽奇迹你手心里全都记载好期待要谢谢爱让我学会宽容学会体谅关怀像阳光陪着大海是平静还是澎湃都是爱</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/7600309135876808239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/7600309135876808239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_10_01_archive.html#7600309135876808239' title='谢谢爱'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-4859043859298414718</id><published>2007-08-29T06:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T06:26:55.160+08:00</updated><title type='text'>omfg i can't sleep</title><summary type='text'>time is still. and cold air bites into my skin without remorse. there are so many things that i want to do with my life, yet i just that there's something holding me back. the lack of desire, passion and motivation. they say that your life flashes by just before you die - i'm thinking that when it happens to me, all i'd see would be a big black -SPLAT-. my life. nothing interesting. nothing so </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/4859043859298414718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/4859043859298414718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#4859043859298414718' title='omfg i can&apos;t sleep'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-6006967697591481929</id><published>2007-08-26T02:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-26T02:07:33.221+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I</title><summary type='text'>I am concrete dreams escalating by Clarke Quay floating on tonic and gin, grinning at the white folk who pay my girls. I am 92 degree Wednesdays, sweat stained schoolboys and soccer mud shoes in a thirty people bus carrying forty, with pineapples and mandarin oranges sagging in a bag. I am mahjong playing ancients, smoking. I am aluminum louvers and glowing altars stabbed by joss sticks. I am 89 </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/6006967697591481929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/6006967697591481929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#6006967697591481929' title='I'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-327850800928621844</id><published>2007-08-26T00:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-26T00:54:03.038+08:00</updated><title type='text'>张惠妹 - 如果你也听说</title><summary type='text'>突然发现站了好久不知道要往哪走还不想回家的我再多人陪只会更寂寞许多话题关于我就连我也有听过我的快乐要被认可委屈却没有人诉说夜把心洋葱般剥落拿掉防卫剩下什么为什么脆弱时候想你更多如果你也听说有没有想过我想普通交朋友还是你依然会心疼我好多好多的话想对你说悬着一颗心没着落要怎么附和舍不得又无可奈何如果你也听说会不会相信我对流言会附和还是你知道我还是我跌跌撞撞才明白了许多懂我的人就你一个想到你想起我胸口依然温柔张惠妹-</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/327850800928621844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/327850800928621844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#327850800928621844' title='张惠妹 - 如果你也听说'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-2498470326807566856</id><published>2007-08-19T01:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T01:14:38.214+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>There's no one in town I knowYou gave us some place to goI never said thank you for thatI thought I might get one more chanceWhat would you think of me now,So lucky, so strong, so proud?Never said thank you for thatNow I'll never have a chanceMay angels lead you inHear you me my friendsOn sleepless roads, the sleepless goMay angels lead you inSo what would you think of me nowSo lucky, so strong, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/2498470326807566856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/2498470326807566856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#2498470326807566856' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-5872434448390769720</id><published>2007-08-12T16:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T16:56:51.193+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bang! You've killed yourself again.</title><summary type='text'>My mind is in disarray. Kind of like a fish out of water feeling.I'm easily irritable.More of such emotions are definitely going to cause a schism within myself.And I think I'm just holding it all inside. It's hard to find an outlet. An excuse just to burst out for no apparent reason. The stigma of tolerance. A stigma cause without it, i'd turn into a raging maniac going at anything or anyone </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/5872434448390769720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/5872434448390769720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#5872434448390769720' title='Bang! You&apos;ve killed yourself again.'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-7022730685948205581</id><published>2007-08-11T03:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T03:50:10.027+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I happy am. I think. But since I think , so therefore I am, right? NOT!</title><summary type='text'>I'm feeling happy today. Well, quite at least. I don't know why. Perhaps the endorphins from the no nut famous chocolate chip cookies kicked in. -shrugs-  Anyway, I was doing some thinking about a conversation I had with Miss Brownie. If my memory serves me right, i remember discussing something along the lines of what ethics is. She was saying that ethics is for the priveliged. As in, not </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/7022730685948205581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/7022730685948205581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#7022730685948205581' title='I happy am. I think. But since I think , so therefore I am, right? NOT!'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-3953486006710992407</id><published>2007-08-07T03:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T03:58:49.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'>These few awkward lines.</title><summary type='text'>I'm leading the prosaic life right now.I'm absolutely dead; Blinded by life's suffocation of light, Deaf from life's rethorical rhymes and Starved from life's decapitated hope. I'm wondering like a blind deaf and dumb victim tossed in the lost and found section of the worlds' own reject bin (most victims are never found).I cannot find happiness in anything anymore. Everything touched, tasted, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/3953486006710992407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/3953486006710992407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html#3953486006710992407' title='These few awkward lines.'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-1887764422399992814</id><published>2007-07-30T00:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T00:18:48.433+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Mother Fucker</title><summary type='text'>Brisbane once more. It feels different somehow. Perhaps maybe it's changed so much over the past 8 to 9 months, perhaps it's me who has changed. The nights are lonely, quiet and many things that have happened have been left so unsettled back home. Everything I've done in the last few months, weeks and days I do not regret, but somehow there is a hint of unfinished business lingering somewhere. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/1887764422399992814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/1887764422399992814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html#1887764422399992814' title='Crazy Mother Fucker'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-7152366403795476950</id><published>2007-07-06T22:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T22:28:32.164+08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Song, Old Jay. Still bloody fantastic lyrics.</title><summary type='text'>周杰伦 - 不能說的秘密 冷咖啡離開了杯墊我忍住的情緒在很後面拼命想挽回的從前在我臉上依舊清晰可見最美的不是下雨天是曾與你躲過雨的屋簷回憶的畫面　在盪著鞦韆　夢開始不甜你說把愛漸漸放下 會走更遠又何必去改變 已錯過的時間你用你的指尖 阻止我說再見想像你在身邊 在完全失去之前你說把愛漸漸放下　會走更遠或許命運的籤　只讓我們遇見只讓我們相戀　這一季的秋天飄落後才發現　這幸福的碎片要我怎麼撿</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/7152366403795476950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/7152366403795476950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_07_01_archive.html#7152366403795476950' title='New Song, Old Jay. Still bloody fantastic lyrics.'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-8029227539137233818</id><published>2007-06-24T19:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T19:15:26.219+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Transformers</title><summary type='text'>I can't wait for it to come out.Though I have this really bad feeling about it...Just hope Michael Bay doesn't fuck it up!On that note,DIE AUTOBOTS!!!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/8029227539137233818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/8029227539137233818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html#8029227539137233818' title='Transformers'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-5287706254905055801</id><published>2007-06-17T15:04:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T15:16:06.425+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drumll Roll....</title><summary type='text'>It's my birthday today.Happy birthday to me happy birthday to me happy birthday to meeeeeeeeeee.And I had a fantastic party.Now,time to rest.Thank you all ( you know who you are) for making it one of the best birthdays I've had in so many years.-love ya all.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/5287706254905055801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/5287706254905055801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html#5287706254905055801' title='Drumll Roll....'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-7694616662730759267</id><published>2007-05-31T05:42:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T17:55:18.867+08:00</updated><title type='text'>from me to you</title><summary type='text'>I’m taking my kisses back from youAnd returning the ones you gave for freeI’m sure you’ll probably get them again somedayBut never again from meI’m rubbing away the lipstick marksAnd burning your sweet words in the darkI’m packing away my homeless heart once againSprawled out on the sidewalk of painI’m forgetting the smells of who you wereWhile tearing your photos off the wallIn my favorite Tee </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/7694616662730759267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/7694616662730759267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html#7694616662730759267' title='from me to you'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-4249837925862167323</id><published>2007-05-31T05:22:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T05:22:47.951+08:00</updated><title type='text'>For Me This Is Heaven - Jimmy Eat World</title><summary type='text'>The first star I see, may not be a star.We can't do a thing but wait.So lets wait for one more.And the time, such clumsy time in deciding if it's time.I'm careful, but not sure how it goes.You can lose yourself in your courage.When the time we have now ends.When the big hand goes round again.Can you still feel the butterflies?Can you still hear the last goodnight?And the mindless comfort grows,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/4249837925862167323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/4249837925862167323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html#4249837925862167323' title='For Me This Is Heaven - Jimmy Eat World'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-3915854757421147700</id><published>2007-05-24T05:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T05:36:44.341+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eh Si Mi Lan.....Buay Si</title><summary type='text'>And so another European Championship to AC Milan. Their 7th win really. I'm starting to wonder if red is really an unlucky colour or are English teams just not cut out for European Cups. Liverpool didn't play all that bad, just that their shots on goal were not as commited as ACs', and so, eventually, they lost 2 - 0. Oh well, what do I care honestly, I'm a Manchester United fan anyway.__________</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/3915854757421147700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/3915854757421147700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html#3915854757421147700' title='Eh Si Mi Lan.....Buay Si'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-6280569786869107268</id><published>2007-05-21T05:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T05:41:05.653+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happily Ever After....Well, Fuck Off.</title><summary type='text'>And so the weekend's come to a close again. Nothing really fairy-tale about it. Went down to Wala's again today. E.I.C was playing as they normally do every Sunday.It's actually pretty amazing how they manage to entertain the crowd every time they're  up on stage. It's possible that on certain days, they might be having a dose of the "shittest of shit" feelings but heck, they always rock the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/6280569786869107268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/6280569786869107268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html#6280569786869107268' title='Happily Ever After....Well, Fuck Off.'/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-2214843920863532110</id><published>2007-05-16T05:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T06:05:25.192+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's been such a fucking long time since I've last posted anything but all I can say is that it's been a good break for me; traveling to Bangkok, meeting new people (tranny included) and trying really hard to get a temp job.It's strange really, when you suddenly have this feeling of begin able to accomplish anything that you want. It's  new. And I'm really savoring every moment of it.Not more </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/2214843920863532110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/2214843920863532110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html#2214843920863532110' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-189779663257890348</id><published>2007-05-16T05:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T06:06:11.465+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Train this chaos turn it into lightI've got to see you one last nightBefore the lions take their shareLeave us in pieces, scattered everywhereJust give me a chance to hold onJust give me something to hold ontoIt's so clear now that you are all that I haveI have no fear cause you are all that I haveYou're cinematic razor sharpA welcome arrow through the heartUnder your skin feels like homeElectric</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/189779663257890348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/189779663257890348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html#189779663257890348' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_Rd5SiWjAUBE/RkoiUGeYJTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/DyFYbbKDO2M/s72-c/DSC00032.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-2840426042706700473</id><published>2007-02-26T04:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T04:34:46.569+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>She's gone now.And my sun has set on an empty space.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/2840426042706700473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/2840426042706700473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_02_01_archive.html#2840426042706700473' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-117138944245540119</id><published>2007-02-14T01:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T02:03:19.566+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>After pondering over the mysteries of life; of why M&amp;Ms melt in your mouth and not in your hands, I'm back.Conjuring up my internal powers to will myself to write again has taken some time and hopefully some obscure creative monster will manifest itself from within me.Omnipotent beings seem like distant stars that strain to shine in the fading of the night while overbearing day regains </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/117138944245540119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/117138944245540119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2007_02_01_archive.html#117138944245540119' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-115299885419506543</id><published>2006-07-16T05:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T05:27:34.203+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>mediocrity has been part of my life.i never thought of myself saying this but i really hate myself for it.and i'm gonna change that.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/115299885419506543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/115299885419506543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2006_07_01_archive.html#115299885419506543' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-115231437715382492</id><published>2006-07-08T07:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-08T07:19:41.043+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>She never got the messages    That girl by the North shoreIn the girdle that holds her safe and close;    She's biting her lips in silent repose....</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/115231437715382492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/115231437715382492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2006_07_01_archive.html#115231437715382492' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-115091717628670401</id><published>2006-06-22T02:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T03:13:25.436+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>448am. Pressing on for my final exam. Somehow I wish time would fly faster so that I can get on with my sleep. Sleep - the lack of it for almost 24 hours now. Sleep is a luxury that I cannot afford unfortunately. Vanilla coke and my death sticks on the other hand keep me wide awake, physically at least. Right now mentally, I am that of a 5 year old kid.Reading about stress and Burnout. I am so </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/115091717628670401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/115091717628670401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html#115091717628670401' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-115038680571076539</id><published>2006-06-15T23:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T23:53:25.736+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>What is that sad look in your eyes Why are you crying Tell me now, tell me now Tell me, why you're feelin' this way"A bad cup of coffee and stale cigerettes."Just when I thought the week couldn't get any worse..Heard from my housemate that a friend's friend got killed by a hit and run in Singapore.You may have read it in the news.He was a close friend of the guy I know.It's just overwhelming </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/115038680571076539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/115038680571076539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html#115038680571076539' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-114996521035880199</id><published>2006-06-11T02:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-11T02:48:27.060+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Karma police, arrest this manHe talks in mathsHe buzzes like a fridgeHe's like a detuned radioKarma police,arrest this girlHer Hitler hairdo isMaking me feel illAnd we have crashed her partyThis is what you getThis is what you getThis is what you get when you mess with usKarma PoliceI've given all I canIt's not enoughI've given all I canBut we're still on the payrollThis is what you getThis is </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/114996521035880199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/114996521035880199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html#114996521035880199' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-114993789246483278</id><published>2006-06-10T19:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-10T19:11:32.476+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>To the wet and wild people. Please drive carefully.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/114993789246483278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/114993789246483278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html#114993789246483278' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-114657991864574981</id><published>2006-05-02T22:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-02T22:25:18.660+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So it seems the days of winter have arrived; the leaves have fallen off the trees and light drizzlethat seems to last forever. It feels that a ciggie should be in my right hand and coffee -black- should be in my left. It feels like feet should be curled up together to hold together warmth that cannot be found. With gratitude toward summer, my joy is found in the latitude of winter. Windows fogged</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/114657991864574981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/114657991864574981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2006_05_01_archive.html#114657991864574981' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-114538017104760182</id><published>2006-04-19T01:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-19T01:09:31.063+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Update your blog la...-cough-*Dotaing*Update it now la...*GOOOOOOOOOOD-LIKE*Aiyar...later la.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/114538017104760182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/114538017104760182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html#114538017104760182' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-113911369433398255</id><published>2006-02-05T11:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-05T12:33:31.046+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Make Your MaMa ProudBeen listening to a new few sounds lately, Okay, maybe not all that new but just updating myself in the music scene. Australian radio doesn't really have much to offer to people surprisingly, considering that they've got heaps of muscial talent and are known for famous bands like silver chair, powerderfinger, savage garden, the veronicas and the one hit wonder group bardot, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113911369433398255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113911369433398255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2006_02_01_archive.html#113911369433398255' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-113848270024366945</id><published>2006-01-29T05:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-29T05:11:40.256+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jejuned           Jejune were one of those bands that I thought never really fit into the whole emo genre. Maybe it's just that, in the midst of boy-bands like The Promise Ring, The Get Up Kids, Jimmy Eat World, Sunny Day Real Estate, and others, Jejune didn't really fit. They didn't have a post-punk or post-hardcore - or really a post-anything - sound. From the beginning, Jejune's sound was </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113848270024366945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113848270024366945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_archive.html#113848270024366945' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-113834946782743863</id><published>2006-01-27T16:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T16:11:07.840+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I R HIJACK.Simi mia?To be fair, it's quite logical that the further we progress, the more things will already have been done. But to be vindictive, count the number of recent films that aren't sequels, based off a novel, a play, comic book superheroes or a remake of a classic....used the other hand yet?So we were on our way to see Proof, another one of those critically acclaimed, powerful and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113834946782743863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113834946782743863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_archive.html#113834946782743863' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-113808027987562132</id><published>2006-01-24T13:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T13:24:39.893+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Rule Book No.1ROMANCE MATHEMATICSSmart man + smart woman = romanceSmart man + dumb woman = affairDumb man + smart woman = marriageDumb man + dumb woman = pregnancy_OFFICE ARITHMETICSmart boss + smart employee = profitSmart boss + dumb employee = productionDumb boss + smart employee = promotionDumb boss + dumb employee = overtime_GENERAL EQUATIONS &amp;STATISTICSA woman worries about the future until </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113808027987562132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113808027987562132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_archive.html#113808027987562132' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-113790852245076311</id><published>2006-01-22T13:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-22T13:42:02.460+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>hello.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113790852245076311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113790852245076311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_archive.html#113790852245076311' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-113721550208132013</id><published>2006-01-14T12:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-14T13:15:02.606+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Yahooing.I was searching for articles on Life on the internet using Yahoo's search engine and what does it give me back in return?King Kong....._Anyway, how is everyone so far? Enjoying the brand new year of hopes, dreams and aspirations and new strain of bird flu viruses? Isn't sad when you think about the way people die from diseases, that most of these diseases originated from animals? In my </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113721550208132013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113721550208132013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_archive.html#113721550208132013' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-113595651940253170</id><published>2005-12-30T22:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-30T23:28:39.413+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Forrest Gump once said that life is like a box of chocolate, you'll never know what you're gonna get.  I say, that's bullshit. Then again, Mr Gump was retarded.Anyway, how was Christmas? This year the only present I got was a puke faced housemate whom I had to drive home. The housemate only had 4 glasses of wine and the saddest part was that the housemate wasn't even female.It was the first </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113595651940253170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113595651940253170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_12_01_archive.html#113595651940253170' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-113525414924032859</id><published>2005-12-22T20:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-22T20:22:29.250+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jesus Christ Mary and Joseph!Carol gave birth to a healthy 3 kg+ baby boy at Mt Elizabeth, 530pm Singapore time! TODAY!Yet to be named, but I'm sure it won't be a stupid one like Gaylord.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113525414924032859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113525414924032859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_12_01_archive.html#113525414924032859' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-113454308230313298</id><published>2005-12-14T14:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-14T14:51:22.316+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-Bustard-Fine, so I guess not all the bus drivers in Australia are nice and patient.I decided to take the 427 bus instead of 428 because it took a more direct route back to my place which meant that I could get home earlier, but as I boarded the bus...Me: "Hi, one ticket to indooroopilly... -in a polite manner-"Diver: "PLEASE."Me: "Sorry?"Driver: "PLEASEEEEEE. -contorts face and mumbles some rude</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113454308230313298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113454308230313298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_12_01_archive.html#113454308230313298' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-113431465333800480</id><published>2005-12-11T22:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-12T03:48:04.596+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Out and Running....Australia's a really famous country for all kinds of shit..more specifically, Brisbane's a really famous state for most kinds of shit, most famous, for it's fucked up weather.I was at the coast on Saturday and I reckoned I'd get a nice brown crisp tann to put some sexiness into old fat pasty me. Brisbane being Brisbane however, pissed on my plans.You see, I was already at the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113431465333800480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113431465333800480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_12_01_archive.html#113431465333800480' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-113362888679738968</id><published>2005-12-04T00:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T00:54:46.806+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-One summer day-I was taking a fag at the balcony and I couldn't help notice my friend's armpit hairs sticking out. It reminded me of them porn stars in the 70s.Me: "Dude, your armpit hairs look like King Kong's pubes."Marcus: "Fuck you la kok, can't help it if I'm hairy right?"Me: "Yea, you're so hairy they filmed a bug's life on your armpits."Marcus: "Fuck you la kok. What do you want me to do?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113362888679738968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113362888679738968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_12_01_archive.html#113362888679738968' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-113198982812143296</id><published>2005-11-15T01:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T01:37:08.133+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-devastated-i don't know what to write about anymore these days.maybe i should close my blog.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113198982812143296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113198982812143296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_11_01_archive.html#113198982812143296' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-113154356593868262</id><published>2005-11-09T21:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T21:42:47.153+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm sorry, did I scare you?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113154356593868262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113154356593868262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_11_01_archive.html#113154356593868262' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-113086228688322511</id><published>2005-11-02T00:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-02T00:24:46.896+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>-SIGH- I was just looking at the pics of Boon's birthday on Fat Bastard's blog and I really really wish I was there for the celebration. Looking at the smiles and retardedness of my homies really makes me homesick. SO FUCKING HOMESICK.And the bad news is that i'm staying for the Summer Semester. Sorry guys, i don't really have a choice. Really really wishing that I didn't have to stay. Fuck.That </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113086228688322511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/113086228688322511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_11_01_archive.html#113086228688322511' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112992374731703072</id><published>2005-10-22T03:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-22T03:42:27.323+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Jester God.Indeed God has a sharp wit. He made a baby named Kuan Sian. But forgot to give him brains. Sadly the brainless retard won't read this post as well but I already have a few nasty ideas on how to make him do so..anyway, so God made a baby without brains, and an even funnier thing is that God gave him a choice to study anywhere in the world but he had to choose UQ. Unfortunately, we </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112992374731703072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112992374731703072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_10_01_archive.html#112992374731703072' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112965779416643459</id><published>2005-10-19T01:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-19T01:52:09.566+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Dug up some old stuff -Entitled: Poetry DUH!Wondering thoughtsThat are written by obedient fingersThat refuse to be spokenBut on the tip of my tongueLingerA wondering voiceThat is unspokenReplaced by a myriad of wordsThe silence is BrokenEyes closed inwardlyA simple reflection of a verseSomething spontaneous Nothing rehearsedPoetry</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112965779416643459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112965779416643459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_10_01_archive.html#112965779416643459' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112861797394434825</id><published>2005-10-07T00:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-07T00:59:33.950+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Perhaps this will make him say something useful.I love you too, bro.-Drake.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112861797394434825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112861797394434825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_10_01_archive.html#112861797394434825' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112723889165524307</id><published>2005-09-21T01:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-21T01:54:51.660+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>What do you get when you cross a donkey with an onion?an ass which makes you cry.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112723889165524307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112723889165524307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_09_01_archive.html#112723889165524307' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112575588731755515</id><published>2005-09-03T21:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-03T21:59:09.810+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Well, he asked. Nah:A cold, wet sort of Magic.Weather's lovely.Had the fuck-off heaviest spate of rain just now. Not the usual half hearted oh-all-right-here's-some kind of affair, no. Someone up there was really laying this one on thick.It started with a distinct, unusual chill, which I appreciated immensely. The heat here in Teh Cubicle (Room. Which is the size of rich people's wardrobes.) is </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112575588731755515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112575588731755515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_09_01_archive.html#112575588731755515' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112559129050551627</id><published>2005-09-02T00:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-02T00:14:50.510+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Condoms make the world go round.Why did kamikazi pilots wear seat belts?Morning after pills makes a woman fuck more.Condoms makes the man a whore.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112559129050551627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112559129050551627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_09_01_archive.html#112559129050551627' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112541064024362404</id><published>2005-08-30T21:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-01T00:51:53.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>it's been raining a lot recently;i love the rain.the smellthe soundso mysterious.so nostalgic. - as i close my eyes, letting raindrops pelt against my face. embracing the moment whilst my mind dances in the puddles of imagination; inadequacies of my past, misconceptions of my future and the boon ( no pun intended tim) of now. meh,what a gay moment.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112541064024362404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112541064024362404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_08_01_archive.html#112541064024362404' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112471332079075916</id><published>2005-08-22T19:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-22T20:23:08.566+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's the 21st of August, 5 weeks or Uni feels like an eternity of work.But, as always, Mr khum chan here always finds time to unwind.And the results include winning $200 at the Casino. -blink-That's with a base capital of $50 mind you. Impressive for 1 hour worth of bright lights, ciggie smoke, drunk players, talking to a funky dealer and finger therapy, right? Gotta love Black Jack or as the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112471332079075916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112471332079075916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_08_01_archive.html#112471332079075916' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112374263409875578</id><published>2005-08-11T14:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-11T14:43:54.103+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"You keep me flying You keep me smiling You keep me safe in a crazy world You understand me Embrace my fragility You keep me safe in a crazy world And in your arms I find the strength to believe in me again"  it's you my dear grandfather. you are missed.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112374263409875578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112374263409875578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_08_01_archive.html#112374263409875578' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112317870292385170</id><published>2005-08-05T01:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-05T02:08:53.836+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Mr Ed went berserk.And so it is, like they said it should be,never kick a horse while it's taking a piss.Not that it was intentional...and so the story goes,The horses were crossing a river, but this particular horse stopped when it came to the edge of the river. Naturally the rider thought the horse was afraid to cross, and gave the poor horse a good kick on its sides not knowing that the horse </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112317870292385170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112317870292385170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_08_01_archive.html#112317870292385170' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112299794954861398</id><published>2005-08-02T23:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-02T23:52:29.556+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>you kissed my ass and left a milo-stained lip mark.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112299794954861398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112299794954861398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_08_01_archive.html#112299794954861398' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112086332044017995</id><published>2005-07-09T06:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-09T06:58:26.130+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Evening wentAnd morning cameBut the boy refused to sleepIn an empty room with the lights onWith a cigarette And his sad songEvery waking minuteHangs around his neckLike a slow execution His blood shot eyesAnd blistered fingersHe yearns for her touchNot knowing what anything feels like anymoreBroken shattered and teethered to boneBoy's alone</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112086332044017995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112086332044017995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_07_01_archive.html#112086332044017995' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112059304871704204</id><published>2005-07-06T03:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-06T03:50:48.723+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Currently listening to Jay's Yi Lu Xiang Bei from the Initial D movie.Feeling a little this and that. I'm not sure what.I have a sinking feeling in me. And I feel absolutely depressed.I shouldn't be right? I mean I just got two distinctions for my exam.I feel like the song.I hate myself.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112059304871704204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112059304871704204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_07_01_archive.html#112059304871704204' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112050199461572454</id><published>2005-07-05T02:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-05T02:33:14.620+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>There have been many break-ups recently. Maybe it's the weather; the sun and then the unexpected rain.The humidity.Or maybe it's because it's July. You know what they say about July (actually -I- don't, and who the fuck are they?)Finally got my handphone line back.So if anyone wants to hollar me up, please do so at+6598380072. No queer fucks please.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112050199461572454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112050199461572454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_07_01_archive.html#112050199461572454' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112040769020360509</id><published>2005-07-04T00:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-04T00:22:09.060+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"And I still miss her even though.. The freshness that lingers on my lips after.. Softness of her touch everytime she... Her scent which emits from her body after every.. The eyes that would sent the world into a frenzy with just a... It's just you my... There would be no vivification without you".</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112040769020360509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112040769020360509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_07_01_archive.html#112040769020360509' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-112014709191677446</id><published>2005-06-30T23:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-30T23:58:11.920+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"just to feelto feel you here with mejust to hear you whisper the words that are priceless to mejust to know you moreto be with youto lose myself in you is all I wantall I wantjust to be where you are"</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112014709191677446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/112014709191677446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_06_01_archive.html#112014709191677446' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111973044431396082</id><published>2005-06-26T04:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-26T04:14:04.316+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I is back in Singapore. And I look like a fish ball...Will continue to look like one for the next three weeks.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111973044431396082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111973044431396082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_06_01_archive.html#111973044431396082' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111899096374790656</id><published>2005-06-17T14:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-17T23:54:50.763+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's my birthday today. i'm suppose to be happy. I guess.But turning 23 or any other age since a year ago seems different now.I miss my grandpa. He used to send me a birthday card every year.I feel empty without his words. Without his writing. Without his love.-Sigh- hey grandpa if there is anway you can hear me, know that you are still missed.loving you always.Your grandson.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111899096374790656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111899096374790656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_06_01_archive.html#111899096374790656' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111765599291605245</id><published>2005-06-02T03:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T04:02:51.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sun, sand, sea, surfing and then some...I'm pretty darn sure that everyones' heard about the Schapelle Corby crap. Well if you haven't, here's a summary.In October 2004 Schapelle Corby set out with her family on a 10 day holiday in Bali to enjoy the beach and the surf. Instead of happy holiday memories and a sun tan she has endured a harrowing nightmare burned with humiliation and injustice. She </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111765599291605245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111765599291605245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_06_01_archive.html#111765599291605245' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111669849209182321</id><published>2005-05-22T01:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-22T02:01:32.096+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Man You...dammit. looks like i'm gonna be poor next friday; M3's birthday...and drunk.Owe him 5 shots all thanks to Man U losing the FA CUP via penatly shoot out. Exams are in about three weeks time. And I have a paper on my birthday...again. It's been like this for 2 years now. Anyone who calls me and wishes me any well wishesis gonna get a rude awakening from me.Was a victim of racism today. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111669849209182321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111669849209182321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_05_01_archive.html#111669849209182321' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111632140702462304</id><published>2005-05-17T17:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-17T17:16:47.030+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>my world becomes her stagewhere she sings and dancesand readsfrom soliloques to prose to poetryshe becomes every entry and exit she recites and toys with alliterationwords become her havenmy world becomes her stageof enduring loveof unrequited hate</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111632140702462304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111632140702462304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_05_01_archive.html#111632140702462304' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111609949278071540</id><published>2005-05-15T03:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-15T03:49:37.430+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>And so, after spending 72 hours in Singapore, I'm sick - flu to be exact.The perils of humidity, dust and singlish.Amazing discoveries 101my sister -in-law is pregnant.my dad got baptised. his Christian name is Bruno.i have an exam on Wednesdayi don't know what to studythe most expensive coffee is made from beans digested and excreted by a catin some ulu countrythe country with the most number of</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111609949278071540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111609949278071540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_05_01_archive.html#111609949278071540' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111563822864983210</id><published>2005-05-09T19:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-09T19:38:08.510+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Debauchery weekend retreat : High on coffee. Addicted to kisses. Drunk on love.stress is my poison and ike is my remedy.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111563822864983210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111563822864983210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_05_01_archive.html#111563822864983210' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111435624821391221</id><published>2005-04-24T22:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-27T00:59:44.243+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>She sells sea shells by the sea shore - and probably more.Captain's Log, 2050. AD (I think) 12.32 am - to explore a toliet where no man has wanked in before: There are a total of five..no wait, six, no wait! SEVEN in the crew.Commanding Officer A.R.L.G.X. Also known as Andrew Royce Lim Guan Xian. Highly trained in sweet talking women and siphoning information from them. Master in hairstyling and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111435624821391221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111435624821391221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_04_01_archive.html#111435624821391221' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111393313134340596</id><published>2005-04-20T01:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-20T01:54:27.270+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The white smoke - the people have been answered...supposedly.And so the Catholic Church has a new Pope.German, 78. And chose the title, Benedict the 16th. Well done.He's probably gonna die soon.I don't know why they bother.Displeased, I am with the decision..But whatever the case, God has His plans well drawned out.And so rises a new Servant of God, from the slience of death.Go and sow what you </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111393313134340596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111393313134340596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_04_01_archive.html#111393313134340596' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111380760315255699</id><published>2005-04-18T14:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-18T15:06:14.306+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The raucous of a Psychologist to be, maybe, perhaps, perchance - if I don't fuck up.Woke up today with a rather disturbing recollection of the nonsense that I rantedon with ike yesterday. Treetop Inc. Where francais was the language that bewitchedmy simplistic mind, regaling me with tales of stars and how they came about.It was all good, till she pushed me down the tree-top; and jolted me </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111380760315255699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111380760315255699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_04_01_archive.html#111380760315255699' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111375495480078539</id><published>2005-04-18T00:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-18T00:25:40.570+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Explicitly for voodoo dicks, or so they say.Woke up pretty late today. Lazy sunday syndrome kicked in as usual.Sleeping most of my life away, so much so that I felt i woke up with a hang-over.-blink-the body clock routine is totally messed up. -shrugs-Met the group again today.Went to catch Guess Who? with Guanxian, Marcus and Kellythen ajourned to Cyber for some brainless rantings, with Wendy </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111375495480078539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111375495480078539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_04_01_archive.html#111375495480078539' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111367161745718230</id><published>2005-04-17T01:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-17T01:15:19.486+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The senses of my being flee, rendering me useless to what ifs and whathaveyous.What do you not have?Like understanding the Ur-bororo, whatever the hell that is. The ignominy of bullshit scares me not! Ha!There seems to be a pile of crap on my floor and a teetered noticed board on my wall festooned with notes such as:DO DIRTY SMELLY SHIT STAINED LAUNDRY, CLEAN DIRTY FART SMELLING ROOM, PAY OVERDUE</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111367161745718230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111367161745718230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_04_01_archive.html#111367161745718230' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111341685753693867</id><published>2005-04-14T02:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T02:27:37.536+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>No more wealth management please!Maybe I shouldn't have taken the elective, I totally hate it. -bleah-Oh well I thought it was gonna be easy but...-sigh- nevermind.Had the mid semester exam for it today,Hope that I can score well.Went over to Jill's place for some help and looked at work till 2ambefore bunking over yesterday.We're not together anymore.Yea I dumped her.Well dumped is kinda harsh..</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111341685753693867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111341685753693867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_04_01_archive.html#111341685753693867' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111341509148763007</id><published>2005-04-14T01:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T01:58:54.156+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>republished for felicia's amusementIt's been a while since I last blogged.Currently happy at my new place.No doggie poo whatsoever.No more walking around the house in sandals!!!and it's pretty close to everything you can ever need.The room's not that spacious but it's neat nevertheless.It's got ducted air-con so that's a plus. It's carpeted too.Which keeps the feet warm when it gets really </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111341509148763007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111341509148763007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_04_01_archive.html#111341509148763007' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111340532895123619</id><published>2005-04-13T23:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-13T23:23:14.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>No more wealth management please!Maybe I shouldn't have taken the elective, I totally hate it. -bleah-Oh well I thought it was gonna be easy but...-sigh- nevermind.Had the mid semester exam for it today,Hope that I can score well.Went over to Jill's place for some help and looked at work till 2ambefore bunking over yesterday.We're not together anymore. Yea I dumped her. Well dumped is kinda harsh</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111340532895123619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111340532895123619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_04_01_archive.html#111340532895123619' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111324011048859165</id><published>2005-04-12T01:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-12T01:21:50.490+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>From fairest creatures we desire increase,That thereby beauty's rose might never die,But as the riper should by time decease,His tender heir might bear his memory:.But thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,Making a famine where abundance lies,Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament,And only </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111324011048859165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111324011048859165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_04_01_archive.html#111324011048859165' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111299019133186631</id><published>2005-04-09T03:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-14T01:55:25.556+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It's been a while since I last blogged.Currently happy at my new place. No doggie poo whatsoever.No more walking around the house in sandals!!!and it's pretty close to everything you can ever need.The room's not that spacious but it's neat nevertheless.It's got ducted air-con so that's a plus.It's carpeted too. Which keeps the feet warm when it gets really cold.Finally had some life in Brisbane </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111299019133186631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111299019133186631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_04_01_archive.html#111299019133186631' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111061655339875458</id><published>2005-03-12T16:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-12T16:35:53.400+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Move move, moving in 24 hours. No more smelly corners for us.Work work, work piling in. -projects-Hols hols,  holidays in two weeks.and to C who's in UBC, -pat-You'll see him soon. 4 months do go by pretty fast,especially since you're as busy as me.see you soon, hopefully, maybe."Stop dragging feet.We can't go back for seconds lost.Smooth the sheets.Noone was here and never will.Wind your watch </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111061655339875458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111061655339875458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_03_01_archive.html#111061655339875458' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-111028881662450073</id><published>2005-03-08T21:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-08T21:34:23.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>woke up today after dreaming about my grandpa.and i cried. uncontrollably.how i wish i could have been there before he died.when he asked for me on the hospital bed.messing his hair was a favourite past time of mine.and i won't be able to do it anymore.dear grandpa,i'm sorry, i really miss you, sorry i wasn't there before your last breadth.not a day goes by that i don't think about you.i wish i </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111028881662450073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/111028881662450073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_03_01_archive.html#111028881662450073' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110960645908817552</id><published>2005-02-28T23:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T00:00:59.090+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>silly things you read off the net 101There are three types of people in this world. Those who can count, and those who can't.and also seeryan has a big dog. her name is paws. ryan also owns 2 hamsters. their names are hammie and poopie. they live in a cage and ryan is fattening them up with all the food he gives them. he will barberque them and eat them one day. ryan tells me his favourite foods </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110960645908817552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110960645908817552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_02_01_archive.html#110960645908817552' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110894122273757832</id><published>2005-02-21T07:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T00:01:28.980+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Back in brisbane.Lonely.Dusty.Squeaky floors.A spastic dogAnd it's uber far from school.I wish i was home.-clicks heels together-Nope.Not happening.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110894122273757832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110894122273757832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_02_01_archive.html#110894122273757832' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110876049812878609</id><published>2005-02-19T04:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-19T05:01:38.130+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"It's freezing in Bristol   There's love on the telly   A girl grinning at me   She's doing the shimmy" - Veruca SaltGoing home in 24 hours. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110876049812878609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110876049812878609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_02_01_archive.html#110876049812878609' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110789253944796250</id><published>2005-02-09T03:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-09T03:58:20.860+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>it's chinese new year today; and 13 days before i head back to brisbane.the usual reunion dinner with family and all, and the usual count-down to aprosperous year ahead of us. something was missing this year; well more likesomeone. i really miss you grandpa.***went to the beach with tim and gops yesterday. got ourselves really really fried.i'm like red again. and it hurts, especially </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110789253944796250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110789253944796250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_02_01_archive.html#110789253944796250' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110616862026824580</id><published>2005-01-20T04:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-20T05:09:47.116+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Watched Kinsey today. Surprisingly it was quite disappointing.Oh well, to much hype about it perhaps.Or perhaps it was one of those things when someone has a high expectationof something but it turns out dodgey..Someone has been on a pop-corn rampage since coming home; even tried to rationme a single pop-corn for the entire movie.-FAT HOPE- try it one more time and -I- will stick a flower </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110616862026824580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110616862026824580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_01_01_archive.html#110616862026824580' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110547439660237551</id><published>2005-01-12T04:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T04:13:16.603+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>mary had a little lamb little lamb little lambmary had a little lamb little lamb little lamb and it was white as snow and everywhere that mary went the lamb would suck her toeanyway...for what i did today. Read Vel's blog.I'm feeeling lazy.damn you vel! -laughs-</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110547439660237551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110547439660237551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_01_01_archive.html#110547439660237551' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110521580591234834</id><published>2005-01-09T03:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-09T04:30:04.513+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"lost in a daydream. in spite of everything. candy coated sparkle haze that sends me away.I'm a million times gone.until the suns sets for the last time.until the ocean burns.I won't fall asleep in this old house.saccharin in my veins.these days go by and no one really knows how to do the real math, the real chemistry.and when the world blows up,I'll hold your hand when the big bomb drops</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110521580591234834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110521580591234834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_01_01_archive.html#110521580591234834' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110512797948404131</id><published>2005-01-08T03:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-08T04:04:49.136+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Fat Farm Summitwatched being julia today. talk about 18th century satire and breaking all it's rules. with things from homosexualty to scandals to self-realisation to emancipation of women to schizophrenia. with laughs from start to end, it was a well spent 6.50. 4 out of 5 popcorns.  4 because as charming and fantastic as annette bening was in the film, she was a total bitch in the end.***</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110512797948404131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110512797948404131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_01_01_archive.html#110512797948404131' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110468630673592526</id><published>2005-01-03T01:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-03T01:19:26.590+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> "When I say I'm in love with her. What does that mean? It means I review my future and my past in the light of this feeling. It is as though I wrote in a foreign language that I am suddenly able to read. Wordlessly, she explains me to myself. Like a genius, she is ignorant of what she does." Jeanette Winterson, "The Passion"   it's comforting to know that i've made a mistake about my parents.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110468630673592526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110468630673592526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_01_01_archive.html#110468630673592526' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110461615701550186</id><published>2005-01-02T04:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-02T06:12:32.393+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>listening to:  greyscale by jejuneno matter what anyone says i'm still pretty much the emo junkie.guitar chords run through my veins like cocaine.went to watch shutter with miss lawn mower today.it wasn't all that bad. neither was it all that scary. and it had a rather original ending.the thais have a way of doing things; not to mention always adding tinges of tranny jokes into them.i </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110461615701550186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110461615701550186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_01_01_archive.html#110461615701550186' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110453428517613053</id><published>2005-01-01T06:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T07:04:45.176+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>it's almost 7 am.my body clock is screwed. oh well.gonna watch Shutter with miss squirmish later.maybe even catch ocean's 12 after that.hope it's a scary movie else i'll throw my shoe at the screen. "Oh yea. all right.     Somebody's  Heine.     is crowding my ice box    somebody's cold one is giving me chills    guess i'll just close my eyes." - Weezer</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110453428517613053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110453428517613053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2005_01_01_archive.html#110453428517613053' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110443192842380284</id><published>2004-12-31T01:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-31T02:38:48.423+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>met a vindictive little bitch today (no, not you vel).more like my sister. apparently we were playing and suddenly she scratched me really hard. my skin peeled off and there was blood. my parents saw it and my sis realised this and immediately put on the ohididitbyaccident look. she was like, " sorry sorry sorry."in reply i said "yea, sorry this" and smacked her on the head. damn 11 year old kid</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110443192842380284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110443192842380284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2004_12_01_archive.html#110443192842380284' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110435726892370939</id><published>2004-12-30T05:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-30T06:30:08.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Phantom of the Opera.what a fucking waste of money.`Nuff said.vel and i grew fatter today. -shakes head-and i made her cry again. -blink blink-*V's watching gilmore girls now* AN EATING...again -laughs-apparently she wants to read something more than about her growing fatter. -bleah-before the growing fatter story, we actually couldn't decide where to go and ended up asking a cab driver</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110435726892370939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110435726892370939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2004_12_01_archive.html#110435726892370939' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110425611871927828</id><published>2004-12-29T01:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-29T01:50:26.473+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>electrico - runawaysome didn't run fast enough, some were caught by surprise and many drowned.many have said that it's a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. -shrugs-it's just so frustrating for these people who have lost their homes, their loved-ones, their spirit and strength to carry on. and it's gonna be the new year soon.the death toll just keeps going up and up and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110425611871927828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110425611871927828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2004_12_01_archive.html#110425611871927828' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110417217350242078</id><published>2004-12-28T02:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-28T02:45:56.073+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm all red. my cheeks are red. my nose is red.headed down to the beach with my bro and tim and afewofthelads today.swam and sun baked for a good 3 hours. -blink-went home around 7pm. had some clam chowder soup for dinner.waited and waited actually.was waiting for vel to call me or text me from her dinner date but she didn't do so untill 1am++so i ended up watching kung fu hustle at </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110417217350242078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110417217350242078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2004_12_01_archive.html#110417217350242078' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110408472319124537</id><published>2004-12-27T01:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-27T02:12:03.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Christmas.And what did Santa bring to Asia?A whooping 8.9 scale earthquake. The largest the world has ever recorded in the last 40 years.And with tsunamis reaching 80 ft, i'd say people got more than they wished for.God rest their souls.been chatting with Vel quite a bit these days. well actually more like in the mornings. somehow we've both got this strange habit to sleep at uber fucked </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110408472319124537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110408472319124537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2004_12_01_archive.html#110408472319124537' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110374547303922734</id><published>2004-12-23T03:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-23T03:59:02.786+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>And i thought genital mutilation was bad. Self mutilation is much worse, especially the way it was portrayed in the french movie "In My Skin". I guess the way it was filmed was really good but the whole story just didn't connect properly. Somehow somewhere meaning was lost and the passion of self mutilation was nowhere to be found. maybe vel and i missed out somewhere.Vel's a really really </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110374547303922734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110374547303922734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2004_12_01_archive.html#110374547303922734' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110331249597549358</id><published>2004-12-18T03:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-18T03:41:57.946+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Blisters 101.Try RollerBlading for 5 hours.In the rain.On sand.And getting beaten by a damn twig. &gt;.&lt;On hind sight i had fun!And a whole load of aching.O.o</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110331249597549358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110331249597549358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2004_12_01_archive.html#110331249597549358' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110218477038675312</id><published>2004-12-05T02:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-12-05T02:26:10.386+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Wow.I'm back in Singapore land.The land of the kiasu. The land of the er..er..whatever really.Been back for a few days now.i'm on 2 months break.sweet eHz?*anyone wanna date me?* -blink blink-What to do what to do?I'm free....Gotta enjoy..but i'm already getting bored.on top of  that..well..issues. BIG ones.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110218477038675312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110218477038675312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2004_12_01_archive.html#110218477038675312' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110145054859586000</id><published>2004-11-26T14:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-26T14:29:08.596+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>3 distinctions1 credit1 pass.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110145054859586000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110145054859586000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110145054859586000' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5092863.post-110113771338083941</id><published>2004-11-22T23:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-11-22T23:35:13.380+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"Shaking like a dog shittin' razorblades,waking up next to nothing, after dreaming of you and meI'm waking up all alone, waking up so relievedWhile you're taking your time with apologies,I'm making my plans for revenge.Red eyes on orange horizonsIf Columbus was wrong I'd drive straight off the edge.I'd drive straight off the edge.I've got a big fat fuckin' bone to pick with you my </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110113771338083941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5092863/posts/default/110113771338083941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pressthemole.blogspot.com/2004_11_01_archive.html#110113771338083941' title=''/><author><name>Don</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5623/151/640/collage1.1.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
