Simon Cowell

Crooning on my STEREO: Vertigo by U2


You must have seen this man before. Or at least, for those of you who actually watch telly.
And I bet the most of you hate his guts.

I think he is the saviour of prime time television. Possibly the only tv persona who actually show signs of intelligence. He is blatantly honest; he tells you straight to your face if he thinks you're full of crap. I think that's good advice. Honest people are hard to come by these days.

Yet many people hate him. The weak minded hate him because he is, quite visibly, more sharp witted and instinctive than the norm. But many people despise honesty; they are afraid of getting hurt.

That is why many people do not progress because they deny the truth.

Today, I shoved my social calendar aside to stay in and watch the X-Factor finals. (I know.. I know!!!) Simon Cowell manages one of the finalists, Steve, who would be singing against Louis Walsh's 4 men group, G4. It was the battle of the managers, Simon versus Louis. The Tenor/Soprano group G4 are obviously more artistically distinctive than Steve, who is a natural crooner, so I expected the former to win. Plus, it was a case of 4 singers against 1.

But when Steve sang Frank Sinatra's 'Smile', I broke into tears. (usually I don't give a damn about song covers, but today it made a difference)
'Smile' have always been my spiritual anthem.

The song is not the case. Steve is the case. He started off in the auditions turned away by all the other judges but, surprisingly, nasty Simon. Despite the general preconception that Simon is an asshole, he had faith in the one man who was slagged off by the majority.

Today, Steve is in the finals. So 'nasty' Simon had a point.
And I voted (Yes, I DID!). I don't usually waste 25p on voting texts, but I felt that this man had to win. On the other hand, I was confidant that the rivals, G4, already had a recording contract on hand, so victory is not a neccessity. Because I have a soft spot for struggling artists, by voting, I am making a "talented but unfortunate" performer's dream come true.

Plus, for retribution's sake, I may need that sort of vote in the future.

Steve won. Simon won.
That bastard was right. He may slag off 90% of humanity, but he does have a worthy point. This is what I call constructive criticism. And this is coming from a smart bastard without a university degree.

He promotes a universal philosophy: simple but blatant honesty to wake the sleepyheads. I am sick of friends telling me that I look good in a coat which I actually dont.

If I have been sarcastic lately, I am totally aware of it.

That is because Simon Cowell is my role model.

Family Relatives

Crooning on my STEREO: Somewhere Only We Know by KEANE

I will be flying home in approximately 10 days time hampered by mixed feelings; the excitement of spending Xmas with the world's only worthy people (my immediate family) as well as the absolute dread of leaving my LOVE, London.

Oh, hold on, not to mention the highly anticipating festive encounters with RELATIVES. Oh yeah, sincerely CARING and LOVING AUNTS and UNCLES. They flood my family with LOVE.

That is BULLSHIT. Absolute CRAP. Let me explain the various species of relatives there are in my massive family of 'pain in the asses' .....

1) Oscar-Relatives: These relatives pretend to CARE. For example, if you GRADUATE with a good honours, they PRETEND to be HAPPY for you. Behind your back, they say you BRIBED the examiner.
(or rather, they say you NEVER graduated......)

2) Leach-Relatives: These relatives only contact you when there is a free Xmas dinner hosted by your family in the horizon. If not, they DONT GIVE A SHIT.

3) Tabloid-Relatives: These blood relations will DIG out your personal affairs and play the role as your CONFIDANTE. In actual truth, they don't give a damn and all they just want to know is what dirty shit you are up to.

4) Olympics-Relatives: This is RIVALRY, an inbred quality in most families. They just want to COMPARE their children's achievements to yours. Whenever they are on the losing end, these shallow parents LIE, on their kids behalf, so that they will always seem TRIUMPHANT. (Example: Who's got higher grades, who's thinner, who's got a better job.. etc)

5) Saint Mediator-Relatives: They are NOT saints. They are VENOMOUS. They will only show concern when you are on your DOWNFALL. The concern is a mere ACT. In their hearts, they celebrate knowing that you're DOOMED.

So what's this shit about BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER?

BEWARE
The only people to trust is your IMMEDIATE/NUCLEAR FAMILY

NOT your AUNTS & UNCLES

p.s: You can also categorise your aunt/uncle/cousin pests with several terminologies in my blog published months ago HERE

St. John the Baptist

Crooning on my STEREO: Moi...Lolita by ALIZEE


A hell lot of you have questioned me what I've learnt in three years of Art History. To reflect my intellect, I have attached an academic 1st Class analysis of the above painting by Leonardo Da Vinci.

"I think the subject matter is sexy. His sultry eyes are friggin' tantalising, more inviting than Jose Antonio Reyes. And look at those chubby arms, it has the ability to suffocate and excrutiate. Check out that grin, oooh la la!! He uses Neutrogena lip balm, right?? Therefore, Leonardo is DA MAN ahead of his time. Come on, who would've thought of using lip balm 500 years ago?

The HAIR! So beautifully and perfectly permed. Toni & Guy could never have done it this way. The curls are the epitome of those spiral pasta, was it fussili ?? One can conclude that national identity are engraved in those perfect curls......PASTA ITALIA !!!!!!!

Leonardo has done an excellent job on giving his subject the PERFECT MEDITERRANEAN TAN. I am envious (beyond belief) of that glowing skin that only St. Tropez can offer. So SUBLIME. Imagine this: You go on a beach holiday and you see a lifeguard who looks like this....... move aside, BAYWATCH!!!

Why didn't Leonardo give Mona Lisa that shimmering summer Tan?? Coz Italian men 500 years ago were attracted to lifeless women who dont sunbathe. Look at Mona Lisa. She looks too green. Yet men in the past find her sexy and beat the hell out of each other just to win her heart. Today, if you are as bronze as Beyonce, men fight wars over you.

Phwoarrr... check out that rapper look. The Renaissance Italian 'BLING'. You know why? Cuz' of that leopard skin which he wraps himself with. Check out any random P. Diddy music vid and you're bound to spot a couple of loaded pimps wearing leopard skin. And the finger, YO YO YO! A symbol of expression. In the case of sexy John, its YO YO YO, whazzzzupppp to HEAVEN. Vice Versa to P.Diddy, its YO YO YO, whazzzzuppp to HEAVEN too!!!!

I am too lazy to conclude. You should get what I mean by now. This painting is cool. This painting rocks. And it looks good on your living room wall. Think about it, how cool is it to walk about with a crucifix? I think it is going to be a summer trend. Leonardo is a genius.'

Note: I received a distinction for this visual analysis. Don't think of the material connotations as blasphemic, because the artwork has been argued as both religious and secular, since no one really knows what the subject is. The lucrative model could be St John the Baptist, Bacchus the wine baron or even Leonardo Da Vinci himself in a narcissistic mood.

And I don't believe in any of DAN BROWN'S conspiracy theories.

The Unresolved VAN Mystery

Crooning on my STEREO: PARA LLENARME DE TI by RAMON

Today I received a phonecall which spells the return of my zest for life. And of course, when I am in brilliant mood I can't help but to PICK on SOMETHING. (or SOMEONE at the very least)

This blog examines the VAN mystery. Girls SWOON over this hunk. Female 'soccer' fans WORSHIP his SEX APPEAL.

No, we are NOT talking about KAKA. You wish!


FIRSTLY, this man does not TALK. He ROARS.
ROARS so much you'd assume he's got bio/animal genetics.


Eh??? I thought I saw this lardy truck driver at Hog's Head last week.
Nice townie Nike classic gym outfit.
Sipping on orange juice makes him so MACHO.


How paedophillic. Trying ooze his sex appeal on innocent young children.
I see MICHAEL JACKSON ......


Travelling First Class in this classy outfit.
Come on girls, go SWOON over your SEXY man.


I am really sorry, but i am getting very bad vibes from this picture.
Leave it to your imagination: 'There's something about Mary.....'


If you cant get enough of ONE, there are always TWO.

Can someone solve this biological equation,
MONKEY+ DONKEY/MOOSE/HORSE = ?

Lyn's 10 DRUNK COMMANDMENTS

Crooning on my STEREO: FRIJOLERO by
MOLOTOV

Christmas is in the air and term is coming to an end, and much too many people have the inhumane intention of getting me pissed.... how unfortunate.
Since there is absolutely no way I can guarantee that my alcohol resistance maintains its peak 24/7, this blog is dedicated to the evil minds out there,

COMMANDMENTS
When Lyn is pissed,
1) Thou shalt not talk to her
2) Thou shalt not touch her
3) Thou shalt not go near her
4) Thou shalt not feed her more shots
5) Thou shalt not walk her home
6) Thou shall LISTEN to her
7) Thou shall pay for her taxi fare
8) Thou shalt not take photographs
9) Thou shalt not pretend to be her boyfriend
10) Thou MUST NOT follow her home!!!!!! If she finds you in her flat she will MUTILATE you!!!!!

If any of these commandments are VIOLATED... don't expect to hear from me for the REST OF YOUR LIVES!!!
(yes, Lyn DOES GET SERIOUS!!! Really!!!!!!)

New Discoveries.

Crooning on my STEREO: Sobri by LESLIE

1) After an intense session in the pub, the entire course professed their true ages...by far, I am the youngest student in my MA!! But certainly not the brightest.

2) I have been told that the passport photo I usually use for my CV puts employment agencies off.

3) I caught up with a really cool long lost high school friend. This was what he recalled,,,
"...I still remember you as the cute Year 10 girl with the short skirt, coloured shoes and long-sleeved, black cotton sweater. It seemed to be YOUR uniform."
Shit, was this true? Pls. confirm.

4) I am probably the only postgraduate who bothered to vote in Junior Eurovision.

5) I saw a Guns N Roses tribute show on telly just now. Shit, I still miss Axl Rose's lycra tights.

6) Okay, I bought two seasons of Footballer's Wives. I CONFESS!

7) Another confession, I bought Britney's My Perrogative album. Don't rub it in!!!!

8) I have developed an unconcious habit of dancing in the Tube, courtesy of my Mp3 player.

9) I am no longer good in Daytona. I lost to a 'Landan' in Trocadero last weekend!! "INNIT"

10) Seeing Reyes remove his shirt on national television still makes my heart skip a beat.
I really don't know why!!!

Why Fashion and Football cannot mix.

Today I received the latest Arsenal catalogue in my pigeonhole.

Here we have Robert Pires trying to sell you a bomber jacket for forty two quid.
Firstly, the bomber jacket looks like a bin liner. Secondly, WE, as consumers, are 'supposedly' lured by this greasy Bollywood actor who somewhat reminds us of that fake designer conman lurking in the backlanes of Camden Town. RING A BELL??


Oh dear, whats with this sickly enthusiasm? Is this some sort of chemotherapy costume?
Gone were those triumphant days of Freddie's 'come sleep with me' Calvin Klein G-string campaign. COME BUY THIS UNWASHED STALE PYJAMAS FOR ONLY 20 quid.


I am not sure what he is trying to sell here... Colgate? Sunshine Health campaign? Or a secondhand Arsenal training jumper dating back to 1886? Whatever it is, the whole package costs a whopping 32quid.


This jumper squeezes your internal organs to flatter your body figure. And those JEANS....I have the SAME pair but in a much larger size! ARE MEN GETTING SMALLER OR WHAT?!???


Boxers! Three sexy colours (especially the tartan one) guaranteed to charm your women to DEATH. ALL YOURS FOR ONLY 10 QUID


This is the saving grace. BESTSELLER OF THE SEASON, but only limited to ONE lucky customer. Price on application.
But, then again, I am not too sure about those urchin green trousers....

Sorry, while stock lasts.....

Haagen Dazs

Patricia Franchini: It's sad to fall asleep. It separates people. Even when you're sleeping together, you're all alone.
- Jean-Luc Godard's A Bout De Souffle (1959)

Watched Godard's 'Breathless' two weeks ago, I noticed the above quote. Quite true, I think. You dream alone.
Yesterday, I have coloured my hair. I've given myself a Francoise Hardy hairstyle. Had a facial masque, did a pedicure, gotten rid of the bronzer. Had a bubble bath. Watched an evening's worth of X-Factor and realised how much I am in love with Simon Cowell's wit.

Also, I have stopped crying.

I think i might have woken up from the nightmare. I've stopped whingeing at God's injustice. Surely, my Sammy rainbow would rather see me promise food for his afterlife than to revel at my unproductive drowning-pillows-with-tears session.

I told myself, I will be fine.

I identified with my long lost humour after an attempt at kidnapping two ice-cream boys from Leicester Square's Haagen Dazs. My cousin and I scouted a smiling French bunny at the door clutching a stack of menus (think: Gollum's ''my precioussss'') close to his heart. Just a few feet from us was Colin Firth walking down the Red Carpet. Between the two, we chose to kidnap the French bunny for obvious security reasons.
Today, French bunny had another bunny colleague with him scooping ice cream at Haagen Dazs. So I bought a quid worth of Earl Grey just to investigate this new bunny. New bunny is French bunny's countrymate, in fact, I suspect they are brothers.

No, I have not made the kidnap attempt. Althought I have frequented the place so often with a lot of nasty plans in mind. Remember, bunnies work there every Mondays,Tuesdays and Sundays. Feel free to join me.

The Chinese believe, after the death of a loved one, it is important to have a taste of sweetness after mourning.

I guess Haagen Dazs did it for me.

Rainbows

What do you do when you have lost a colour of your rainbow?
It feels, surreal, you know.
It feels, like, you could never wake up again.
And you don't know what to do.
Even a week later,

You really dont.

My perfect life was embraced by seven colours.
Seven colours; one for divinity.
Five colours for the five beautiful souls whom I eternally love with all my heart.
And one hopeful colour for the stranger who has yet to walk into my life.

On the 6th of November, my rainbow did not seem right.
A colour has faded away.
Much too early.

I thought, I will be home for Christmas, and we will have fun together.
I thought, maybe, he will meet my boyfriend one day.
And i thought, when I am home for good,
We could grow old together.

But on the 6th of December
He never came home.

I don't know where he is.
And I was, and still am, afraid to pray.
He never woke.

I wished I told him how much I loved him.
I wish, that someone will tell me, if I can ever see him again.

If God ever hears my prayers, I will only ask of Him that
He will keep my Sam under His safe wings.

If this was a punishment from vengeful destiny,
then there are many others out there who are left unpunished.

If this was the result of karma,
then our fates are ruled by a blind and infantile force.

If either of this is true,
I will not allow the juvenile nature of Life to destroy me.

And with every courage, I pray that,
after the rain,

My rainbow will look just as beautiful as it did before.

A Study of Style

Today I made an expedition to Harrods in pursuit of self-gratification after a horrendous week. In fact, I am in the Dress Circle Restaurant (2nd floor, Ladies Department) as I am typing this, munching on an intoxicated brownie (the cheapest lunch in the area) and a bottle of the most fucking most expensive diet coke in the world.
Knightsbridge is a lovely area. No suspicious truck drivers staring at your clothes nor kitchen boys eyeing your laptop bag. Harrods staff endlessly pacify you if you look eager to spend above 50 quid at their till for the day. (as for me, I can only pathetically flash a pale debit card, thus they lose their smiles). Smiling security guards open doors for you, but lose their pleasant disposition if they spot an Osama look alike lurking around the entrance. Cosmetic counter salesgirls have an annoying habit of addressing you ‘madam’ even if you look painfully under aged to be shopping at Harrods.
The greatest entertainment of all lies in the shopping crowd. Tourists, locals and celebrities.
(I once spotted a Spanish actor and I almost fell to the ground, but to retain my dignity, I walked past him with my nose up and flashed my shopping bags.
That didn’t get me very far.)
Many tourists, some waddling around in awe as though they are in the London Zoo. Some, especially those in the Food Hall, treat it as their local marketplace.
My amusement is fuelled by those with a very pretentious sense of style. There were two shoppers, dressed in gawdy green and yellow, clutching the cheapest Prada handbag on the market strolled into the designer area speaking (or rather, SHOUTING) poor English at the top of their lungs. Class act? 2 outta 10. Bet you’d never see Victoria Beckham behaving like that.
Then there was a mother and daughter with multitudes of shopping bags, mother had a bling Chanel sunglasses on (Harrods interior lighting is dim by the way) and daughter (on the slightly larger side) squeezed into a tiny Von Dutch top. Style= 5 out of 10.
Money cannot buy dress sense.
There was also a teenage girl stumbling around in a pair of Manolos.. why, god, if you can’t walk gracefully, don’t wear it!!
There were some girls from Hong Kong, probably students, with designer accessories mounted all over themselves like a Christmas tree, one chatting pitch loud in Cantonese,
‘When I am here I feel like an actress, but I am on overdraft. But I am still going to get that Dior bag anyway.’
I feel very, very sorry for her parents aka financeers.

Moral of the sotry: If you cannot afford it, don’t buy it.
There is always Zara down the road.

Style is inert and comes from modesty. Don’t force it.

p.s: I'm off to Nottingham for the weekend. ciao ciao!

RESIDENT EVIL Part 2

Crash course for those who don't know:
I live on the roof of an office block on Fitzroy Street, London. On my left is the Tube Station coveted with lots of drunk characters, 10 secs walk to Mac D's where townies in tracksuits gather, opposite a construction site flanked with cute sweaty immigrant builders, next to a cafe where lorry drivers assemble for lunch and there is a daily congestion of office smokers around the flat entrance puffing their lives away.

One thing to be proud of: I have a food disposal unit. And a spanking clean toilet.

----------------------------------UPDATES---------------------------------------
Council Tax has come knocking on my door and I have absolutely no idea what they were pressing on for. So I offered them Chocolate Swiss rolls to shut them up.

My American neighbour forgot his keys and was waiting in the cold for the landlord to open up his door. Being a kind Samaritan I invited him to pop over for refuge at my place. He said he will wait for a while and come up a bit later. Later, he was pressing my doorbell ten times but I left my music on at maximum. Ooops..

As a reknowned midday riser, I usually undertake the anonymous task of sorting out mails into flat pigeonholes. One day, as i was doing so, a Chinese student/neighbour walked in and glared suspiciously at me as though I was stealing letters. True enough, I was coincidentially holding a stack of Barclays and HSBC letters in my hands.. but shit, do I LOOK LIKE A THIEF????

Poor 7 yr old landlord's son (whose room is next to mine) has moved out of his bedroom. I don't think he liked Franz Ferdinand nor my hair dryer.

I slept through the fire drill again. Fire engines were gathered around the block and everyone has vacated their flats.
Except me.

Something is rotting in my kitchen. I can't figure out what it is. Must be the grapes, cheese, pate and chicken bones I left in the bin since last week.

Post Match Bitterness... Cont'd

Found some classic explanatory diagrams today.







Caption says 'RUUD SHOWED WAYNE AROUND HIS NEW HOME'

Very..very appropriate...
and comforting.

Ridiculous Things People have said to me this week.

SUNDAY
A Manchester United fan, disillusionedly ecstatic over her team's rare victory, screamed on top of her lungs,
'Did you watch the match?? That Brazilian guy is soooooo goood!'
'Who?'
'Christiano Ronaldo'

Victory transforms ignorance into utter foolishness.

MONDAY
I went into an obscure IronMonger to hunt for a rare specie of lightbulb for my flat. As I was looking through the vast section of bulbs, a middle aged man who stood next to me said,
'Did you used to model?'
'No.'
'I see, what a shame. Agencies often go for muscular and plus-sized models nowadays.You'd be good...'

p.s: That man was a photographer.

TUESDAY
I charged into Selfridges to stock up on Clinique skincare. I had a pretty good conversation with the salesgirl behind the cosmetic counter until she blatantly commented,
'Your skin seems very blotchy, uneven and oily, Let me recommend the pore minimiser....'

And I thought I looked pretty decent that day.

WEDNESDAY
Sat next to CuteBoy in class. All was going well until he thoughtfully said,
'Oh yeah, I remember you broke that chair the other day.'

Shit. He remembered.

LYN's RANT BOARD (Yes, I actually DO get ANNOYED)

Yes, it is THAT TIME of the month. And YES, little things DO annoy me BIG time.
Here's the LOWDOWN of what pisses the crap out of me.

1) MANCHESTER UNITED FANS
NOT ALL, but MOST M.U fans are downright HOOLIGANS. Like those who ring your mobile 50 times to piss you off when their crap donkey transexual striker (guess who?) scores an undeserved penalty.
FINE.
But how often do you EVER have ARSENAL fans taunting you with countless text messages and phonecalls after their team wins one match?

MOST MU Fans have preserved that imbecile reputation successfully.

And most MU fans are FEMALES.

2) MANCHESTER UNITED
Think ANIMAL FARM UNITED aka SAFARI UNITED complete with newly arrived (and imported) exotic & exciting wildlife.

SPECIES
Alan Smith = ALBINO 'RAPIST' MONKEY
Van Nisterooy = ROARING DONKEY
Wayne Rooney = VIAGRA CHARGED WILD BOAR
Christiano Ronaldo = OVERGROWN MONITOR LIZARD

3) MANCHESTER UNITED FIELD STRATEGY
Once upon a time, Ferguson said to the Nevilles,
'See that Spaniard? Keep on tripping and kicking him to the ground. Dont worry, no red card. I have bribed the refs.'

How does it feel when your husband comes home limping and bleeding like he had been attacked by several sexually deprived creatures?

Enough said.

4) MY INTERNET CONNECTION
Yes, to those who get damned annoyed when i appear and vanish every 5 mins on MSN.

DONT FUCKING BLAME ME.
FUCKING BLAME MY INTERNET CONNECTION.

Don't EVER believe your landlord when he says that your flat is equipped with the fastest broadband connection in the damn country.

And MAC MSN SUCKS. Stick to WINDOWS.

5) 'FRIENDS'
People who CLAIM to have known me all their lives suddenly ASSUME that I am pissed off at them.
Maybe its because I didn't return their calls, texts, mails by accident.... etc

IF YOU 'FRIENDS' REALLY,REALLY,REALLY,REALLY KNOW ME, YOU KNOW THAT I WILL ONLY GET PISSED OFF ONCE IN A BLUE MOON,
(unless you can't stop harping your insecurities on my nerves.)

Sometimes I wonder how much you patty lot know about me.
-------------------------------------------

HELLO??? DO I LOOK LIKE I ENJOYYYY GETTING PISSED OFF FOR NO REASON?????

Today is the blue moon.

What TYPE is YOUR MAN???

Take a sheet of paper.
Answer these objective questions with humour.
Check the results at the end.

DISCLAIMER: NO OFFENCE INTENDED FOR THE WEAK AT HEART

1) Your crush/boyfriend was born in
a) KUALA LUMPUR
b) BLACKPOOL
c) MELBOURNE
d) CHICAGO

2) His dress sense consists of
a) a pair of TED BAKER jeans (only one pair for the sake of posing), ill Fitting Designer Top and a pair of Air Jordans
b) The occasional adidas TRACKSUIT, a tarnished gold necklace (courrtesy of Claire's Accessories) and one stale BEANIE
c) A Hawaiian print shirt, cargo shorts to flash his hairy legs complete with a pair of flip flops.
d) Oversized t-shirt emblazed by a GOLD medallion and jeans three times his size.

3) His mobile phone is
a) God knows ( he changes to a new one every fortnight)
b) MOTOROLA S700
c) NOKIA 3210 (handed down by his sister 5 years ago)
d) A self assembled phone with a glittery cover to emulate the 'diamond' effect

4) His Favourite Shopping Destination is
a) Mid Valley, Malaysia
b) JD SPORTS
c) Harvey Norman in search of a new BBQ Pit.
d) Downtown HARLEM

5) His student accomodation is
a) the most expensive student house he can get his hands on (so as to impress other impoverished Malaysians)
b) A moss-infected student terrace block with overgrown creepers and a replica of Lothlorien in his backyard. Otherwise, he squats in a dodgy nightclub called KINGDOM
c) A wooden hut
d) A stolen modified Mercedes C-class (note: check MTV's Pimp My Ride)

6) As for sports, he likes to play
a) BASKETBALL (gone were the days when dating boys from the school basketball team was considered a crowning glory)
b) FOOTBALL (he played for his local football team 5 years ago, it was the peak of his career)
c) RUGBY, FOOTY, BASEBALL, CRICKET, HOCKEY. FENCING, LAWNBOWLING and any sport you can think of.
d) None. Perhaps some random slam dunks with the neighbourhood kids. Oh, guns.

7) Over-used spoken vocabulary
a) WAH LAU!!!!!!!!
b) SHIT, SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT
c) Blah blah blah.... MATE
d) Yo, Me Brovaz in Da Hood

8) He swoons over
a) Anorexic models like Channel [v]'s Cindy Burbridge
b) David Beckham.... and his nails.
c) Surfer Chicks and burnt BBQ meat.
d) Any living creature in a BIKINI

9) His name is somewhere along the lines of
a) LIM AH KAU (guised under an exotic English name of MARCO)
b) BRIAN MANCHESTER (hideously monotonous and common)
c) CROCODILE HUNTER (so engrossed with wildlife that he forgets his name)
d) 50 CENT

If your answers are MOSTLY
A
He is a Malaysian wannabe cool rich Western brat. Usually ugly and pimply.
B
He is a First Class British TOWNIE craving for absolute attention. Apparently does the full monty in male changing rooms. FOR HEAVENS SAKE.
C
He is a DOWN UNDER WOMBAT. As part of his romantic commitment, he takes you to the outward bound camp.
D
P.Diddy is his mentor. He is a BLING-BLING GIGOLO. Don't expect an engagement ring from Tiffany's, he will get you a gawdy gold one from Harvey Nichol's.

Rue De Purgatoire

Looking back at Summer 2004 @ Zurich -> I FOUND THE PURGATORY GATES!!!!!!!!!!

Today was a PMS day. I broke a chair in the lecture theatre, then ate 3 packs of Indomie, 2 Southern Fried Steaks, Half a Belgian Pate, more Sevillan Olives, and 100g of Mayonaise straight from the jar and another three tablespoons of strawberry jam.
TALK ABOUT A SCREWED WINTER APPETITE...

And I am still PROCRASTINATING over my preparation for my seminar presentation tommorrow....wish me luck!

RESIDENT EVIL

More Franz Ferdinand on the stereo that the landlord's son next door is finally suffering from Insomnia.

'This Fire's is out of Control
We Gotta Burn This CITY
BURN THIS CITY
BURN THIS CITY!!!!!!'

No implication in the lyrics above, just that any soul residing in Fitzroy House will be burning me alive the next time they see me.

I devoured 250g of expired Napoli Tortellini and I am going to puke in the hallway.

My cousin just handed me a stack of desireable topless posters of PETER ANDRE.
(What the fuck????)

I am seriously going to PUKE.

Thank You Fitzroy House for cleaning up my mess... ciao.

p:s Inspired by my friend Vincent's Blog, I am going to indulge in my perfection. No, I don't suffer from a low self esteem. And No, I am not trying to pick up guys. And YES I am going to make BRAGGING my hobby.

Watch this space.

Jeremy Bentham told me that I was above the average league. Yes, I agree. Who is going to argue with Bentham?

Conversations with Jeremy Bentham

Note: The remains of the great philosopher Jeremy Bentham is exhibited in the Hall of the Main University College London Quad. His waxed figure (complete with his skeleton beneath the preserved exterior) is on display in a giant coffin sized cupboard...but as freaky as it may sound, he turned out to be rather friendly.

8:10pm: I took a route through the Bentham hall simply because there was no other way out of the university building which shortcuts to my flat. My coursemates all took a different route because they lived in a different area. OK. I was alone. And my footsteps echoed through the hall. Jeremy Bentham was on my right.

Bentham: Hello, young lady.
Me: Errrmmmm..... hello??
Bentham: Why do you look so..... perplexed?
Me: Cos YOU are speaking to me. I could have screamed, y'know...
Bentham: You could have asked for my autograph.
Me:(Almost pissing in my pants) True....... can I go now?
Bentham: No, pray, tell me, why are you unhappy? The Boy?
Me: (relieved that someone actually wanted to listen to my miseries) God, yeah. He didn't run after me. He went off with her. You saw it, didn't you?
Bentham: I don't have a good view of their whereabouts from here. But I suppose I see them going to library together sometimes.
Me: Tell me, Jeremy... I am so sick of falling in love at the wrong times... why does fate deprive me of the only thing that will make me smile away from home?
Bentham: Simply because you are blessed with many things others could only dream of.
Me: Like what? An I POD?
Bentham: Maybe. I saw a chap who walked past me listening to one earlier on.

(Pauses) ( Dread creeps into my nerves....I sense an upcoming lecture......)

Bentham: Tell me, who has travelled around the world? Who has seen paradise on the peaks of St. Moritz? Who has successfully written a dissertation without consulting credible sources? Who has her own London apartment? Who has a perfect family who provides and loves her unconditionally? Who has the guts to get herself tattooed and pierced alone without bringing a school of chaperons? Who has met Formula 1 drivers? Who has seen Real Madrid play? Who has acted on national stage? Who has figure skated? Who has sprinted? Who has watched the films of Julio Medem and found her alter ego in his characters? Who aspires to go to Latin America to seek the holy grail? Who has just bought a pair of 30quid jeans from River Island today? Who has wished upon the stars of Orion and had her wish came true? Who possesses the unparalleled compassion for stray dogs? Who is happily doing her MA? Who has intervened several of her friends' attempted suicides? Who empathised with Giuletta Massoni in the Nights of Carbiria? Which student uses Wedgewood plates for Pot Noodles? Who.....
Me: (Interrupts) Damn, you do know a lot..
Bentham:Therefore, I am Jeremy Bentham.
Me: You deserve your credit. Thanks... really, you're right. I should not complain. But still....
Bentham: Listen to the New Radicals, 'Someday We'll Know'.
Me: Phwoar!!! They played at your time???
Bentham:My child, fate has it that you will only meet the man who is as good as you are. The act of waiting is a pain, but you are UP there. You are way above the league of this boy and the rest of your unfortunate encounters in the past.
Me: Thanks, (with a tear) and thanks for your kind words. I really appreciate it...TRULY.
Want me to open the cupboard so that you can take a stroll?
Bentham: No, it is my wish to be here. Go,my child, before winter sets in.
Me:I shall remember this. And I look forward to speaking to you soon. Thanks Jeremy, once again.

Thus, I went home with a smile. And danced to Franz Ferdinand.

And of course, The New Radicals, too.

10 Things I Love about London

In No Particular Order...

1) I have my own Flat
Which means I can blast my music, dance around naked, barbeque rats, practice karaoke and bring home Big Issue Sellers without the prying eyes of others.

2) No One Gives a Shit about You
You can dress up like a doll and you will still fit into the crowd. Today I can be a goth, tommorrow a punk, the next a drag queen etcc... no one bothers. This is the place where I can finally wear my legwarmers without enduring stares.

3) Everyone has an I POD
In Malaysia, if you are seen with an I POD you are doomed to be robbed.

4) The Tube
Most would disagree with this part, but The Tube is a godsent invention. Efficient, fast and it doesn't induce nausea.
It is also a romantic muse;I've never seen so many people snog in such an unhygienic place.

5) Shopping
Nothing in this world beats several Body Shops and Zaras lined up on the same street. Knightsbridge is PARADISE.

6) Celebrities
Yes, there is a possibility you may bump into a member of The Strokes in the Tube, the Beckhams at Harrods, Jude Law in Covent Garden and Reyes kicking about in Hyde Park (I wish!) Fan culture means that I will camp outside Odeon in the cold to catch the premiere screenings of the upcoming London Film Festival... with the stars!

7) Arsenal
Highbury is only several tube stops away....

8) Faster Pace
People generally walk faster; which means no more waddling road hogs in front of you. If there is, run them down and you wont need to be sorry.

9) Heathrow
Not that I love heathrow the airport.. the fact that it is no longer three hours away by coach means that I can jet off any weekend to a sunny island to escape the occasional English blizzard.

10) Bayswater
FOOD. ICE RINK. CHEAP PHONECARDS. and the best ROAST DUCK RICE ON PLANET EARTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Death in Tottenham Court Road

5:45pm: I walk briskly home from college, with my soul mate (aka. I Pod) tugged nicely into my ears crooning Santana's feat Jorge Moreno's 'Satellite'.
I walked.
The usual stuff; crossing the road, abiding by traffic rules and racing my way through masses of people waddling their way to the Warren Street tube station. It's everyday stuff.
Nothing New.
I walked past Sainsbury's and stopped briefly at the pedestrian junction. I needed to cross Tottenham Court Road in order to get back to my flat. The pedestrian light was green, but people were literally running across the street.
Why the hurry? I thought to myself in the mentality of a country bumpkin.
But the lights have been green for quite some time.
I took the chance and I crossed. Just like any other pedestrian.
I paced rather quickly.
But it turned orange when I was in the middle of the road.
With Jorge Moreno screaming into my ears, I conveniently did not hear the engine rev of the 100 vehicles waiting in line.
But my mind raced: RUN!
I ran.

A townie's motorbike and a car accelerated into me.

And that was it. My mind stalled. How did it happen?

God, it hurts.

I died.
It was the moment I turned my head to face those cars driving into me. But it was too late. Maybe I was still alive when it happened. Like a chance. A strange coincidence. That a fool should cross when the light turned orange. I heard sirens and I glanced at an ambulance.

And then I realised.
I was on the other side of the road.

The ambulance raced past me.

But much to your disappointment, I was OK.
and still am.

Perhaps I did die. Like a train of coincidences, everyone is bound to have a close shave with death.
Mine was inches close, I thought I felt an abrasion with an exhaust pipe.
My life could have just ended then.

I may not be typing this now.

WELCOME TO LONDON!!! WOOHOOOO!!
AND CROSS THE ROADS WITH EXTRA CARE!

'Life have many circles. But mine has only revolved once. The most important part is missing,' Los Amantes Del Circulo Polar

Memories, me and St.Moritz, Switzerland....... July 2004 

THE AGE OF GENIUSES

Too many complaints from my dear readers and too little time! I have been so inefficient in blogging lately courtesy of my virus stricken laptop and daily muses. After months of no lectures, I am depreciating into an illiterate. Anyhow, I promise I will make it up sometime in September after I return to dear old Britannia!!

For those who bother, I haven't been doing much lately, my e-mail account has been pissing me off, same ol' me still hunting for accomodation in London, drooling over Reyes on telly and scheming cunning means to stalk him in London.
Another earth shattering record... I haven't been to Zouk nor Velvet for two weeks and that is an achievement! Poverty battles my demons... I spent half my savings on Latin dance lessons, a new laptop and a pair of heels.
A few hours ago, my family and I played Monopoly ala Italian stylissimo and I was the second to reach bankruptcy. I bought the worst estates... a variety of train stations... who the hell in the right mind would do that?????

A levels and O Levels results have been released, and straight As are as common as a dustbin in every household. No offence, but almost everyone I know have straight As or 3 billion A stars this year. Soon, everyone will be a Freud, Verne, Jung, Einstein, Vermeer, Pavarotti, Joyce Streisand...

Oxbridge will have a surplus of prodigal applicants.

Yawn.

Time for 'kiasu'* parents to boast their trophies.
-----
*Kiasu is a SouthEast Asian term for people who are over-competitive and would go to diabolical means to outdo one another, including blood relations.

Home sweet home, my bedroom in Kuala Lumpurrrr.. Pls excuse the mess!!!!!!!! 

LYN MUST NOT LOSE HER HUMOUR....

Hey all, really sorry cos I haven't been blogging lately...blame it on distractions and little adversities. But I will cope. And will try to keep my humour. Not that I've ever been comical at the start anyway.

Oh, I looked through my GCSE sketchbooks and I can't figure why I ended up with a 'C' for Art. There was an unemployed expat-turned-teacher in the name of Miss Jenny Marsh (unmarried for the most obvious reasons) whose visual inability led her to believe that I was possessed by Francisco Goya at some point. Therefore, she accused me of cheating. For an untrained teacher who couldn't tell the stylistic differences between a Renoir and a Monet, such accusations were phenomenal..... how did I manage to summon a Spanish Master on the eve of my GCSE Art Exam? I must have been a sharman when I was 17.
My art portfolio was refused to be externally marked as the result of her uneducated claims of witchcraft.

Conclusion: Do not send your children to Garden International School. Most teachers are the worst breed of unemployed university dropouts. Mr Robinson, Mr Shorthose, Miss Marsh and most were too unmemorable to name.

Expanding... expanding.... Big.. bigger.. BIGGEST!!!!!

Blogspot is becoming a pain in the ass, so here's my brand new backup site dedicated to my love for gawdy films.
EL CINE PARADISO
Not exactly launched yet, but will do so pretty soon as long as my wandering heart gets over an overdose of Reyes ecstasy.....

Yes, you've got it right.... ARSENAL 3 - 1 to MAN U.

Sweet dreams, Ferguson's dreamteam of toyboys have just been on show. (with the exception of 'Christiano Ronald Gay DO' and my personal favourite Van Donkey) But Arsie's Van Persie fit the picture perfectly....

More to come!

FACT vs MYTH

Home sweet home, indeed! On the 21st year of my life I made a stringent resolution to meet up with long lost pals etc.... so far so good! The comic relief lies in the outrageous rumours which have gone around and, coincidentially, reached my ears thanks to some undercover mates! Anyhow, I, the celebrity, am here to clarify the truth behind those rumours.... 

Myth #1: 'Lyn received an offer for Masters because there is simply no one else applying for a place in Film Studies, so one student is better than none,' said a Parisian Slut to her mother.
FALSE
This uneducated claim was made by a jealous barbie who had to fake her graduation and had to whore her way up the corporate ladder.
And I am sure a university would pusposefully run an entire department with 6 lecutrers solely for ONE student.  
Truth is, I was fighting with 300 other applicants for 15 places for MA. 

(To the slut: Silencio por favor, por que tu es una PUTA grande.)  

Myth #2: ' Lyn will only date Spaniards,' said an Asianphile  
FALSE
Firstly, this is purely the case of the kettle calling the pot black.
Secondly, if i was that desperate i would have dated every single Spaniard i know.,, the aerobics teacher, the waiter, the lengua instructor, the salsa boy etc.

 Myth #3: 'Lyn used to be so damn hardworking and intelligent back in high school,' said a long lost schoolmate.
FALSE
This is the joke of the century. I barely passed my GCSEs and almost had an 'E' for Maths. Mr Rob said that I was 'slow'. I spent more time chewing gum in class than listening to crap expat teachers.

Myth #4: 'Lyn is married, because her status on Friendster said so.'
FALSE
Yeah, I am married at 21 with 3 kids. My husband is Jose Antonio Reyes.

Myth #5: 'Lyn is in an acting school in London.'
HALF- FALSE
2 years ago, I was contemplating Guildhall for a BA in acting. But if you have seen me doing The Crucible at Actor's Studio box you would conclude that there is absolutely no future in me.

Myth #6: 'Lyn is a party thug.'
FALSE
I don't drink alcohol cos it makes you fat. I don't sleaze dance with random men. I only go out twice a week.  And I don't look like a thug.

Myth #7: 'Lyn is dating x,y, and z.'
FALSE
I was single through 1 year of pre-uni, 3 years of university and I shall continue stretching the record of going through masters in solitude. You see, being unattractive is rather,..... pain inducing...... 

Myth #8: 'Lyn is sooooo fat now!!.'
TRUE
Obesity is the result of happiness.

Myth #9: 'Lyn is really nice!'
HALF-FALSE
I can only count on two hands the number of people whom I am genuinely nice to.
Ever heard of wolf in sheep's clothing?

Vienna!!!!!! June 2004 

GREETINGS FROM SWITZERLAND

In case youve been pondering upon my sudden absence, I am now writing from the chilly mountains of Matahorn with a retarded keyboard+++ so excuse me over the cumbersome spelling errors and Martian characters +"**%%&/(....
We were in St, Moritz the day before, Zurich and Austria a week ago. Weäve been hopping on and off trains like refugees, waking up at unearthly hours to scale mountains and indulging in excessive MTV,s Pimp My Ride series. Tommorrow we,re off to some obscure mountain and hop onto the Glacier Express to Geneva. France next week and back to English soil just in time or mzy graduation. I wish i could post up some random photos now, but this is the hotel computer and ImaC does not have an infra-red link.
Food is extremely good here, been having 4 meals a day and dozens of snacks in between. Even McDs taste better here. Swiss cows are fresh and succulent, milk taste good and men are... o.k.

Its so bloody scenic that its almost surreal ;)
Bliss is the word.

My inbox was flooded with orbituaries and condolences over Spains defeat, shit that sucks++ I am also slipping down my rankings in the Fantasy Football league (courtesy of an influx of French and Spanish tranfers) Thanks for your sympathetic e-mails....I am now rooting for Portugal,s defeat. Speaking of which, we just had dinner in a restaurant and were served by a waiter who was a cross between Ruud Van Donkey and Chrisitano Wannabe Ronaldo.

Two words= HEE HAW.

Anyway, before the conceirge chases me out of this place, to all of you out there, please take care; Shirl, John, James, Sarah, Sue, Arif and a long list..... i better run++++ i hear thunder from the mountains... Mount Olympus could be on the rage+++++

If only Jose Antonio Reyes played for Spain. If only.  

Drink Football, Eat Football, Sleep Football

Symptoms of Euro 2004 fever.
(Based on a personal diagnosis.)

a)You begin every conversation with ANY HUMAN (friends, postman, kebab boy, taxi driver, bin collector, etc) with, 'Did you watch the country A vs country B match??'

b)You spend an average of 4 hours in the local pub every day, watching consecutive Euro matches from 5pm till 9pm.

c)You emerge as a laddish hooligan. You throw glass beer bottles at jubilant fans of the rival team which has just gathered 3 points.

d)If you are a girl, you find yourself roaring like a disgrunted dinosaur every time a good attacking cross is manouvered. Your interest on vanity issues, such as Raul's waxed legs, dramatically diminishes.

e)When your team is trailing a loss of 0-5, you binge drink expired ale and nourish your lungs with a year's supply of nicotine.

f)Without much thought, you dump your girlfriend who hogs the telly watching Big Brother.

g)For one month, you are the godsent patriot. Your daily wardrobe consists of St. George t-shirts, national flags as sarongs and headgear proclaiming radical nationalism.

h)Lardbrokes becomes your favourite pre-match haunt.

i)Your mood swings like a pendulum and your friends are cautious of you. They can more or less predict when to approach you depending on match scores.
Your mobile is strangely quiet when your team has just conceded a goal.

j)You make friends with bald beer-bellied England supporters in dodgy bars. You also share the same table as townies in pubs. Yet you do not complain.

k)You live on chips and burgers.

L)You swear and curse so much that everyone thinks you have Tourette's disease.

M)Mp3 playing on loop on your Winamp- 'Lightning Seed's 'Football's coming Home......'

6 months Wisdom

The past six months have uncovered several important facts about myself and life.

- No one has the right to dictate your life.
- Selfishness comes in handy 24/7.
- Pests are everywhere, even on your ceiling.
- The notion of Forgiving is full of shit, how the hell can you forgive when you can't forget?
- I have learnt to hate and despise under external circumstances, never self-inflicted.
- I have learnt to love my family greater than ever.
- Self- proclaimed geniuses are the biggest losers.
- Inconsiderate Bastards DO exist. Having to bear with one under the same roof is a Trojan feat.
- We are surrounded by actors and actresses.
- I have learnt to love myself unconditionally.
- I know exactly what I am doing. If you think I am acting strangely, I am doing it on with a concise reason. I am not as one dimensional as you think.
- Tyranny is the most fucking indispicable nature. I have no time and space for such asses.

(I am writing this not because I am pessimistic. No matter how you perceive life positively, shit happens. But I have learnt to deal with it and hell, I am a brand new happy person!!! )
Tip of the day: Laugh at assholes. Value your time :)

Final days as an UNDERGRADUATE: Clearing up my student room... I despise the house but I love my little space. I doubt I will get a room this big in London!!!  

Read Between the Lines: PART 2

(Andre Breton, thanks for granting me a degree.)
Certain words have certain connotations. Por ejemplo,

Case #1: When it comes to appearance, you are often referred to as 'CUTE'. Never as 'gorgeous', 'beautiful' or 'pretty'.
Definition: 'Cute' defines a fat kid, a wailing baby, your bulldog or a bloated NEMO. Can that be flattering?

Case #2: People often describe you as 'SWEET' and 'NICE'.
Definition: 'SWEET' categorises you as some sort of flower which attracts honey sucking insects such as bees. 'NICE' is the most mundane word in the dictionary. People only use it when they have nothing to say about you.

Case #3: Asianphillics (aka 'gwailos' who have fetishes for exotic chinese girls) in clubs thinks you are 'sexy'.
Definition: Just because you are chatted up by someone of a different race does not literally mean that you are physically attractive. 'Sexy' positions you as a harlot; they see you as available for sex. Don't forget that clubs are badly lit places, no one can really see what the hell you look like. Chances are, your male protagonist is drunk.

Case #4: You go home to Malaysia after being away for more than 6 months. Your grandmother looks at you in horror and says, 'Wah..... You're soooo thin!!'
Definition: According to Chinese tradition, being thin represents a biological famine (malnourish) and consequently indicates that you were living in Satan's lair; an unbearable post-war condition away from home.

Case #5: You have just collected your results. You get 100 missed calls and texts on your mobile phone. One text says,'How did you do?? I am sure you did great! I am sooo happy for you.' The sender is someone who failed his/her exams.
Definition: The 'I am so happy for you' bit is a LIE. He/she is hoping that you have failed as well so that he/she wont be the lone victim of misfortune. The 'I am sure you did great,' bit is a deceptive act of emotional blackmail so that you will owe him/her a favour for not telling them your results.

READ BETWEEN THE LINES. Part ONE.

REMEMBER: People DO NOT speak straight from their hearts.

Situation: YOU are mourning the death of your beloved hamster. You ring your good friend to whine on the atrocity. Your SYMPATHETIC friend says,'I know how it feels. I have been through worse... my bird, fish, frog all died at the same time.'
The sympathetic friend's intention: 'Just shut up. What do you know about PAIN? My life is more unfortunate than yours and therefore I have suffered more sorrow than what your wussy heart can endure.'

Situation: YOU just stepped out of your exam hall, looking blatantly pissed off. A CONCERNED coursemate approaches you and asks,'So, how was it??,' followed by a cheesy grin.
The concerned coursemate's intention: 'I know you did shit. And I did better than you. I want to hear that you screwed up the paper from YOUR own mouth.'

Situation: YOU never had a boyfriend/girlfriend. A HELPFUL friend gives you some handy advice,'I think you should lower your expectations....' (add 'lah' into the last bit for some Malaysian flavour.)
The helpful friend's intention: 'Go date any Tom, Dick and Harry off the street. You are not that special anyway.'


Situation: Your friend went to a formal ball and she wants to show you some photos taken that night. Before she hands you the photo album, followed by a MODEST comment,' Don't get a shock, yeah? I look very ugly that night.'
The modest friend's intention: 'I look absolutely dropdead gorgeous that night and I want to stun you by lowering your expectations before you see me in all my Oscar glory.'
(p.s: How the hell would you want to show or take any photos if you really thought you looked ugly that night??)

Situation: You are collecting your exam results from your tutor. Your results are awful, and your EMPATHETIC tutor makes a remark,'Despite blah blah...you have potential.'
The empathetic tutor's intention: 'You are not intelligent. I LIE (as well to 50 other students) just to give you a fake glimmer of hope to get you through your cursed degree. And don't forget to pay your tuition fees, too.'

PARALYSIS!

Still in bed. My neckache has left me partially paralysed. Despite my misfortune I still had my dose of 2Fast 2Furious in the city. Hell, I have never seen such wonderfully modified Nissans, Lancers, Fords etc. My favourite? A modified Renault with the car plate no. G8 SPY  

To all the Men I have 'Loved.'

NOSTALGIA: You look back. You are HORRIFIED. And you WONDER.
These are the men who have adorned my bedroom wall throughout my teenage years.


Above: Axl Rose on a 12 year old's wall. S & M king? Indeed.

1992-1993= AXL ROSE from Guns N' Roses : A man who wore short lycra tights on stage. He had a wardrobe of them in assorted colours. I actually went to Imbi Market and bought a bundle of ten in red,green,yellow, purple and any other gawdy colour you could think of.
I even wore them to class parties, I think I wasn't that popular back then.

1993-1994= DAVE MUSTAINE from MEGADETH : Thanks to my sister's influences, I developed strange fetishes for long-haired and sweaty GLAM ROCKERS. I was THAT close to developing a crush for Steven Tyler from Aerosmith. Thank God.

1994-1995= JON BON JOVI from BON JOVI : Yes, the one who looks like a DOG. When I heard him passionately wailing 'Always' on the radio, I fell in love with his voice. (come to think of it, it did sound a bit like Amy SEARCH..remember...'ISABELLA'?)

1995 -1996= TIM WHEELER from ASH : From glam rock to Brit pop. The perfect epitome of a junkie. I was too ashamed to put his posters up in my school locker.

1996- 1997 = Gallagher Brothers from OASIS : Now when I look at their pictures, they remind me of 'House of the Dead' zombies. As for their infamous eyebrows, I see overgrown bushes in my backyard.

1997-1999= RONAN KEATING from BOYZONE : The BOYBAND hormones were kicking in. When I thought he winked at me during a concert, I pretended to faint so that the sympathetic officials would take me backstage.
30 other girls did the same.

1999-2001= BRYAN MCFADDEN from WESTLIFE : Yes, the FAT one. When I met the group backstage I penned a classic poem for Bryan. Here's an excerpt;

Oh Bryan, I love You
I wish you knew
I think I will kill
Just to have you.

What fucking genius could have written that cheesy shit????!?

p.s: I think it later inspired Westlife lyrics.

2001-2002= MIKA HAKKINEN from F1 MCLAREN : Moving on to SPORTSMEN. From Ireland to Finland. From a tennybopper to an adultress. Yes, Mika is married. And he has a kid, too.
I was drooling over somebody's father.

After bumping into him in Selfridges, I briefly fancied Eddie Irvine from Jaguar. But now when I look at him (in a more mature perspective); he looks like a crocodile.

2002-2003= IKER CASILLAS FROM REAL MADRID : SPAIN. My raging hormones drove me to Santiago Bernabeu (Real Madrid homeground) to hunt him down. Some sleazy bastard sold me a dodgy ticket and I had the BEST seat on earth.

2004- ?? = JOSE ANTONIO REYES from ARSENAL : A sweet Andalusian boy first on my 'To Marry' list... though sometimes I wished he didn't wear such bodyfitting singlets.
--------
I left out an important insect metaphor in my previous post.

LEACHES aka SUCK-UPS : People who suck up to you for benefits. And abandon you when you need them.

PESTS you ought to ELIMINATE.

1) RED ANTS aka FERRARI FANS--> Just because these Tifosi(s) are having a fucking good season they go around BITING and taunting others.

2) WORMS aka GOSSIP QUEENS --> They only want to meet up with you just to DIG into your life and spread it across their busybody communities.

3) PRAYING MANTIS(es) aka RELIGIOUS HYPOCRITES --> Churchgoers who drive flashy cars to park on holy grounds. They pretend to PRAY but they are actually thinking of a Gucci bag.

4) FLIES aka FREELOADERS --> They constantly HOVER around you hoping they'd get a free meal or a one night accomodation at your place.

5) BUTTERFLIES aka GIRLS who MANIPULATE MEN with their BEAUTY --> These frail creatures FLUTTER around men, enchanting them with their 'beauty' and 'fragile' state so as to manipulate the opposite sex to carry shopping bags for them. Remember: BUTTERFLIES ARE FRAGILE.

6) BEES aka PEOPLE who INSULT without THINKING --> Some idiot once told me that people who write well usually have no friends. That is the most brainless assumption I have ever heard from an untalented fool. Bees STING without rationalizing.. remember???

7) MILLIPEDES aka ROAD HOGS --> They are so damned SLOW that it just pisses you off.

8) MOSQUITOES aka CLINGY FRIENDS --> They TRAIL you and insists on INTRUDING into your life. Then they try to suck all of your good blood by infecting you with AIDES Fever.

9) COCKROACHES aka SLY FOXES/ THIEVES --> They HIDE in the dark corners of your room and once you are caught offguard, they DEVOUR your belongings.

10)SPIDERS aka DOMINEERING 2-FACERS --> They may seem harmless, but they quietly SPIN a WEB all around you when you least expect it. Once you're helpless, they DOMINATE and EAT you.
-----------

p.s: Someone told me to start posting CLUBBING photos on my blog to enhance its popularity. Ahem... does this look like a SLUT BLOG to you?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY 2 MI HERMANA!!!!!!!!!!

Don't freak, the image above is a still from one of my sister's favourite films, Tarkovsky's Andrei Rublev. I could never get myself to watch it, as much as serious film critics will rave about the film..
I JUST CAN'T.

I mean, look at the film still. Just look at it. Does it appeal to you?
Would YOU want to sit through 3 hours and watch a Russian monk/artist pay for his sins on earth? (That was just a preconception I got from the DVD cover, it may not be so.)

Mind you, this is no Passion of Christ. No sadomasochistic gore. No diluted tomato ketchup splashing all over the set. It does not send the weak minded into a spiritual revival. No Monica Bellucci as repentant Magdalene. No LOTR's WormTongue lookalike demon persona lurking in the background cradling a baby remincscent to Austin Powers. No Mel Gibson.

Most of you will say, 'I thought Tarkovsky was a Baroque composer?' Some grade 8 piano students actually said that.

No. Andrei Tarkovsky is a revelation to Russian cinema.
My sister acknowledges that. And she is not even a film student. In fact, my sister is a degree holder in both Art History and Film Studies without actually spending three years studying Visual Culture. She knows more than I know in my course without investing £7950 for an obligatory piece of paper. She knows more about the French surrealists than my thesis supervisor. I am just a redundant puppet in my course.

She even visits their graves in Paris.

If you think coming to Broadway Cinema with me is mundane, you are naive. While I do somersaults watching Almodovar's films, she'd rather watch Godard's Breathless. Spanish sleaziness versus the French 'beating around the bush': You can see how our interests conflict.

We are very different. I am a 20 year old empty teenybopper whereas she is a worldly-wise romantic. She has the greatest wit of our generation, and a genius in her own right. And hell, her sarcastic humour can put the devil to shame.... 'La Bicicletta'...

As my sister once told me, 'Travelling is education.'
I can't stand people who travel to Paris and come back claiming that they are cultured just because they have visited The Louvre, or perhaps,barged into an obscure art dealer.
You learn with a sincere approach, not because you want to brag to your friends. You travel because you sincerely WANT to travel, not because you subscribe to peer pressure. (Very common student phenomena in Malaysian cases)

If there is one person who deserves to travel the world for the right reasons, it would be my sister. And if you think that I am special, that's because my sister has inspired me in every way.

No, I am still NOT going to watch Andrei Rublev.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY and Many happy returns!!!!!!

lots of love and God bless,
Su Hermana Yng Lyn

10:41am La Puerta Principal de New College: Waiting for good ol' Nacho who would eventually turn up 30mins later. Bless him!!! I felt like a total townie squating on the staircase.  

10 reasons why you'd never date me.

After much self analysis, I've figured out why I am date-less. This is in response to the lovely bunch of you who said that i wasn't repulsive, but read on...

1) Apart from bad visual memory, I cannot remember numbers. That includes birthdays, addresses etc.. (I am beginning think that I am dyslexic.) People often give me shit when i ask the same question twice.

2) I often insist on paying for meals. I think its genetics, i come from a generous family. I trick myself by not withdrawing cash but i end up reaching the limit on my credit card.

3) I swear way too much.

4) I start every conversation with ,'oh my god.. did you see Reyes?' Its also kinda stressful when you see that my room are covered with glaring posters of men.

5) I wolf down my meals. And talk to you when vegetables are still stuck on my teeth.

6) I whine about the size of my bum in every single damned conversation.

7) I never finish the drinks that you buy me.

8) I watch films which makes the half of you sleep.

9) I am naive. So you'll have to treat me like a kid when you date me.

10) I am not pretty. FULL STOP.

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I sprained my leg during ice training yesterday and I've been limping since, thus, moral of the story: STRETCH BEFORE YOU EXERCISE!!!!!!

Blowing Kisses to the Sky

I called home yesterday and had a rather hilarious chat with my family. My dad insisted on marrying me off to Christiano Ronaldo rather than Jose Reyes. My mum was confusing me with the frenzied itinery of the Austria/Swiss tour. My sister and I had a good laugh at the indispicable adventures of a 'bicycle'.

Shirl and I had a big pleasant lunch this afternoon. I will be seeing Mr.Nacho tommorrow. And Mr. Tortilla the day after. Possibly, Mr. Tomato Salsa the following weekend.

I have started a diary to note every strong emotion I encounter, so that they will come into good use if I am to appear on the silver screen the near future.

This is a gorgeous quote from Almodovar's El Matador
'Eversince the first time I saw you kill, I've searched for you in the all the men I've loved. I've tried to imitate you when I killed others.'

I am too lazy to explain the above quote. Go watch the film, there's a copy in the Beeston Vid store. I have training at the ice center tonight,and I can hardly lift my myself.

I am blowing kisses to the sky so that it wont rain when i catch the bus tonight.

With my luck, it probably will.

And of course, I am also sending my blessings to a very dear friend who is on the other side of the country. God, how i miss him!!

Good thing we are all under the same sky :)

SMiLE!!!! And have a wonderful day today despite the winter showers on a summer morning!! I am missing home!!
 

RESOLUTIONS

After much psychological wrecking the past 3 weeks, I desperately need to tie up some loose ends. This is what I have been crooning the entire rainy morning:

'When you come from nothing, you're going back to nothing. What have you lost? NOTHING!!'-- Monty Python's 'Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life.'

I don't care if you care but I am going to tell the world my resolutions for the next 3 weeks. Hope it inspires you.

- Go into a trance and learn to handle shock and trauma.
- Master all my single jumps and Land my first double jump on ice by 18th June 2004.
- Get a decent swimsuit.
- Make sure that my Spanish lessons are pleasant. I'll try not to be a pain in the ass.
- Hunt around for mother's and father's day presents. And my sister's b'day present too! (Trust me, not any present will do. They all somehow end up in the store room)
- Apply for my part-time job at the piercing parlour.
- Start packing and move out of this shithole.
- Begin the design of my next tattoo.
- Get myself a boyfriend. I think solitude is driving me into stupid actions.
- Camp in Broadway Cinema and drink up all their Earl Grey Tea.
- Complete at least one script. Please inspire me!!!!

I think these will keep me busy. Have a nice day!

10 things you do not know about me.

1) I am a sucker for half the songs on Eurovision Song Contest.

2) I DO take the taxi from Dunkirk to the Sports Center.

3) I am a romantic. A naive one.

4) My parents are a blessing; my dad told me he'd buy me Arsenal one day. A year ago, he promised me Real Madrid. Awww, how I love my family!

5) I don't read academic texts, my sister summarizes most of them for me. Hah, how much I love her, too!!

6) I lead an extraordinary life and therefore, I will only fall in love with someone extraordinary. Saying that, someone once told me to lower my expectations on men, I take that as an insult!!

7) I cut and colour my own hair.

8) I have a very poor visual memory of people's faces. In fact, it is so bad that it took me two days to register Reyes' face into my head despite having his pictures all over my room! So the next time I walk past you and I don't say hi, don't go around bitching that I am arrogant.

9) I am a VISUAL CULTURE student. This is for those who still assume that I am an engineering student.

10)I have a soft spot for men with tattoos. No,no,no with the exception of 'anchors' and 'mums'.

The Four Thugs: From left: Pat, Yvonne and Sue. I am at the bottom. (This isn't exactly the best photo)  

Love on a Monday Morning

I woke up at ten this morning compliments to an annoying radio blasting nearby and conducted my usual ritual of switching on my comp first thing i step out of bed. Logged onto MSN and two high school friends frantically messaged me.
They were Yvonne Khor and Foong Sue Wen. If you were from GIS you'd remember them. I am sure. One is loud. The other is blur.

And they were wishing me HAPPY BIRTHDAY on the 24th May 2004.

What the hell?!? I was close to mutilating them for getting my birthday wrong.
Much too early. After all, they were my closest friends from high school.

The tables turned. They were wishing me in advance for my 21st, knowing that the three of us are hardly ever online at the same time. And they did it with such sincerity, certainly not out of obligatory fakeness. And Yvonne wont be in Malaysia for my b'day bash.

I was touched. They actually bothered. And this blog is dedicated to the coolest friends I had from school, Patricia, Sue Wen and Yvonne.

Sue's in sexy Scotland, Yvonne and Pat are in sunny Australia. Back in GIS, our lockers were next to each other. Yvonne was the loudest in the hallway, and occasionally you'd catch her threatening to beat up a helpless boy. Sue was the green shirted friendly prefect, putting on a facade of responsibility but in actual fact, she's littering the hallway with her food residuals. Pat, who migrated to Sydney later, is often reprimanded for not tying up her long hair,and strutting around in a little skirt. I, the avant-garde, am always altering my uniform; shortening my skirt, coloured Nikes and replacing the school jumper with a trendy Sportsgirl one. Because the prefects love me, I got away with it. Except from Mrs Lim...

And hell, the four of us are intelligent. I am not boasting. Pat, Yvonne and Sue were A star students. I only had an A, but who cares, I hung with them so that I look smart too. And they are gorgeous, they had plenty of admirers. (Sorry, guys, they are all taken, but there's always ME!!) They were great at sports too, Pat and Sue were excellent swimmers, Yvonne played basketball and as for me, the forgotten sprinter.. :( Boys, teachers, bitches.... we laughed at everything.

Since we left school, we all have the tendancy to vanish and reappear into each other's lives at random times of the year. And when we do meet, we rant and rave like the best of friends. In fact, we are. Despite leading different lives 10000 miles away, (with the exception of Sue who's 6hrs by train away..) there is a certain assurance that no matter how much we screw up, we will always have each other to fall on.

We need not explain. We don't even need to know why.
Its like an apparition. Sue even sent me a cookie from Glasgow. :)

Thanks guys, for the wonderful conversation this morning.
God bless you three in everything you do!!
lots of love,
Yng LYN

My student bedroom in Notts which hasn't been well maintained during the exam period. It looked like a dump center two days ago!!!  

3 years in University have taught me that.....

1) Townies are equivalent to 'Ah Bengs.' Tracksuits and golden medallions bought from Claire's Accessories is part of their signature style.

2) Examiners tend to mark more leniently when they are pregnant.

3) You can still be considered beautiful despite having cursed with an oversized size 12 bum.

4) It is possible to sleep with the lights off.

5) If you are deprived of cable telly, the annual Eurovision Song Contest on BBC1 is your only window to foreign civilisation.

6) Most Malaysians roam around in herds consisting of three to ten. And they feel sorry for you if you're seen having lunch or going to the cinemas alone.

7) Many students like to pretend that they are rich. And spend recklessly with their parents' hard earned money to enhance their reputation away from home. If you have an inert sense of style regardless of whether you're really poor or rich, you don't really have to endorse Ted Baker.

8) Beer culture makes you ugly.

9) The sun only shines 65 days a year.

10) You can still live healthily despite having smoked weed PASSIVELY every evening for six months.

11) Stalkers DO exist.

12) I am not the only 20 year old still drooling over poster boys.

13) There is no escape from family spies.

14) Kebab and chips drowned in excess mayonaise is the food of the gods.

15) Desire is the driving force of all human action. (As homage to Andre Breton who caused a considerable amount of misery to me for the past 10 days )

Sun, Sand and Sea... SUMMER IS HERE!!!! 

Top Ten Summer Essentials!!!!!!

This is my courtesy----> The top ten essentials for everyone this summer!!

1) For the girls, buy a Hepburn dress. (I bought a pink one from New Look...you're bound to send out the right signals to builders, bus drivers and policemen. They will be more courteous towards you.)

2) For the handful lot of you who claimed that you have failed your exams, fret not, because even if you have to resit for one, it will be in September. That leaves you three months of bliss from now.

3) Test out the self tan products they've been advertising endlessly in mags, its fun! Despite what your malaysian parents say: these products are not hazardous to your health. (Tried & Tested: I recommend Dior Tinted Bronze for the face and Lancome Hydra Bronze for the body) Stop bleaching yourselves for a change!

4) Invest in a good digital camera and NOT a jittery camera phone.

5) Venture to Skegness. You will make history. Or take a night drive through St. Anne's and brag about it to all your friends.

6) For those who are graduating in July, make sure you give the finger to the university before you leave for good.

7) Make sure you have chosen to live with the right type of people the next academic year. Very, very important. Saints have the divine ability to transform themselves into Lucifers.

8) Buy the Dirty Dancing 2: Havana Nights soundtrack. The movie was shit but what the hell, the music is so dead sexy!!!

9) For those turning 21 this summer, do something outrageous. Break someone's window. Open a strip joint. Or take my example: sneak off to Phuket.

10) TO ALL MALAYSIAN STUDENTS, for god's sake,... BALIK RUMAH!! You don't want to waste your money traveling to places like Barcelona at its tourist peak and come back complaining about the crowd and heat.

This month's edition of Sight & Sound. Talk about cheesiness, but I loved the film!!! Pedro, Perdo... what's with that rose???  

My Beagle Sam, chilling out in my bedroom back home in Malaysia. Its a Dog's life! I've been harbouring the same bitterness that my student accomodation in dunkirk is so, so, so awful!!!!  

If only i could be more thoughtful. No More Art history for the rest of my life!!!!! 

F.A.Q.S

Frequently asked questions. Killing one bird with two stones. Make sure you don't ask me these questions again the next time you see me.. I've been asked these too often!
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Q: 'How was your exam?'
A: It was shit this morning. I couldn't recognise any of the slides. There was an oil painting of a horse. And a portrait of man with an outrageously huge forehead. The Cubism exam was more decent.

Q: 'Does getting your navel pierced hurt?'
A: Absolutely No! As painful as it may look, it is definitely less painful than shooting holes into your ears! Trust me on that!

Q:'Does it hurt to get a tattoo?'
A: No, SHIT, unless your skin is that of an elephant's. Imagine someone carving a design out of your flesh with a sewing machine. But don't let this put you off, you'll get used to all that prickling after the first five minutes.

Q: 'Why are foreign and independant films often associated with porn?'
A: Because those who claim so have either not watched any or are merely uncultured. Porn is a diverse term, and, sadly, it is too often misused in informal linguistics. European cinema tends to portray sexual intercourses more explicitly than commercial films, mainly due to narrative aesthetics or their respective local tradition of film culture. A scene that depicts love making is NOT porn. Julio Medem's film Sex Y Lucia is NOT porn. It is a pity how quality films are often misconceived by the mainstream audience.
To get your hands on REAL porn, go to your local video store and check the top shelves.

Q: 'Why do you love Spain?'
A: That was where I first fell in love. There is something very beautiful about Latin culture. It's probably their unparalleled passion for life. Getting chased by bulls is an example. Saying that, I do have a soft spot for Latin America too!

Q: 'What are the best Spanish films?'
A: My personal favourite is Medem's Los Amantes Del Circular Polar (lovers of the Arctic circle). If you like Madrid, garishness and drag queens, go for Pedro Almodovar's films. If you like thrillers and suspense, anything by Alejandro Almenabar is pretty good! If you enjoy peculiarity and excess sex, Bigas Luna's films are a good package.

Q: ' And Spanish songs?'
A: If you like Gareth Gates and the Pop idol sort of stuff, type 'Operacion Triunfo' into your Kazaa search bar. Names like David Bustamante, David Bisbal and Ramon will come up. They have very soppy love songs, but the faster beats have a very Latin influence. For starters, go for Enrique Inglesias or anything by Alex Ubago. On my playlist now is La Oreja De Van Gogh, its Spanish pop-rock and it does grow on you! If you want hip hop or rap, try the Cuban band Orishas.

Q: 'What exactly is a degree in Visual Culture?'
A: It's simply a joint honours between film studies and art history. Rather than memorising and regurgitating historical events pertaining to specific artworks, you analyse images in theoretical perspectives, such as Freud, Foucault etc.

Q: 'So is it easy?'
A: Fuck off

Q: 'What are you going to do after you graduate?'
A: I am going to hunt Reyes down in North London.

Q: 'Why don't you go out and get pissed every single damned night?'
A: Simply because I have more important things to do than to dress skimpily at the height of winter. And I do not subject myself to peer pressure. I do not want to look like a fool when i am pissed. I DO have a reputation.

Q: 'Why don't you have a boyfriend?'
A: Firstly, I am repulsive. Secondly, I love the way I am. I do not enjoy unnecessary intrusions into my life.

------- Lyn's Copyright---------

Mercilessly dragged into the spotlight by a Spaniard to demonstrate my rather poor Flamenco skills... god, i wonder what the audience thought!!!