If you are squeamish about blood or hate gross pictures, then I can say that this post is indeed not for you.
If you have a weak stomach, then this is definitely not for you.
If you faint at the sight of the thinest trace of blood, then this is SERIOUSLY not for you.
But if you can stomach the sickest of things and watch through Saw III while eating pepperoni pizza (like me), then this is for you!
You know, kids, it does not pays to wrestle with the Tooth Fairy. Not when he is a hulking 1.93m (6ft 4in), 120kg (260 lbs) giant, also known previously as The Rock.
I was mindlessly going through Facebook when one of my friend initiated the Facebook Chat.
Talking about Facebook, what’s up with all those changes? Since I joined in November 2006, I think I lived through 100 to 300 changes within 3 years. That’s a lot change for a social networking site.
It’s like watching a person going under the knife numerous times.
The new Facebook site is just horrendous. Please, just… go back to the old design. It was working fine and was so simple to use and easy to navigate.
Anyway, back to the Facebook Chat.
My friend said a quick hello and told me to check out this awesome site.
Since my friend is a technie wizz and always introduce me to all these cool sites that I’ve never heard before, I decided to check out his newest “find”.
I think there are about 690 over songs. I have been playing a lot and most of the songs I have encountered are alternative, rock or metal. But with the wide range of songs, I’m sure there will be some that fit your genre.
Or.
You can upload your own song into your song library and play it on JamLegend. Of course, in order to upload your songs, you’ll need to sign up and signing up is free. Basic membership, that is.
I uploaded Lily Allen’s Fuck You.
Eh.
And if you are an up-or-coming artist or band, you can create a profile for your band (like MySpace long time ago) and upload your songs. In that way, you can introduce your songs to the Internet and your fans in a fun, interactive way with free (somewhat) publicity.
What I like about JamLegend is that beside letting me destroy some riffs, I get to listen to songs by new artists or bands. And they are awesome songs.
My first song I encountered was this:
Yeah, a Lady Gaga remix.
Second song I encountered was this. Actually, this band is rather awesome.
The quality is rather crappy. Below is a video with better quality:
That is JamLegend. The guy is playing at Legendary difficulty level, without the strumming part. Yep, you can strum too. Just hit the “Enter” button repeatedly.
Another song I came across in JamLegend:
Frankly, I prefer her to Taylor Swift.
And another song I played on JamLegend. The guy gives a short explanation on how to play JamLegend at the beginning:
The song would have been better if he didn’t miss any notes. But at least he still can kick my ass anytime.
So what are you waiting for? Sign up and go play JamLegend. Just don’t blame me when you get sidetrack from your schoolwork or develop carpal tunnel syndrome.
I changed it because I was becoming more and more frustrated with the layout of the pictures and text and how everything always became jumbled up after I publish a post.
So I thought that by changing the theme and layout, maybe everything would be okay.
How fucking wrong I was.
Everything was still the same.
So I painstakingly went through all my posts, edited, rechecked, reedit and republish them. The results was oookayyy.
In short, it was not what I wanted but at least it was a slight improvement from the previous layout.
I’m not a big fan of white background because I feel that its too blinding and after a while of reading black text on white, it’s like frying your eyeballs. Hence that was the reason why I had a black layout previously.
I wanted a black layout but after trawling through the options WordPress provided, I could find any black layout that suited my fancy. This layout suited my liking for simple, easy designs so I went with this. Besides, the fonts are bigger than the previous layout, so it makes for easier readings.
I edited most of my posts since the original font comes in gray colour. Gray on white = hard to read words. So now all fonts are in the boring, default black.
Except for the November posts, the first December post and the student protest post, they are still in the gray fonts. I didn’t want to do any editing to those posts because of three reasons:
1) They are one of my great posts. Let’s say I had a lot of blog-spriation during the month of November. They are my magnum opus for now.
2) If during the process of reediting, the layout becomes fucked up and irreparable, I don’t think I can ever forgive myself.
3) They are fine as it is.
This blog is now up and running and I’ll be sticking to this layout for now.
Until the next, better layout (preferably with a black background) comes along.
Or if somebody with the technical know-how is willing to design my blog for free.
Song:
This is trance.
No, it is not Christian trance, although the lyrics may sound like it.
But the meaning behind the lyrics does not refers to Christianity.
I found this song when I was looking for the MV for 3OH!3 song Starstrukk featuring Katy Perry. So when I found the MV on Youtube, I opened up the link and waited for the video to load.
Wait…. the song doesn’t sounds right.
Besides, the lyrics didn’t matched the mouth movements of the singers. And where was Katy Perry’s voice?
Then I saw a disclaimer in the information box that the soundtrack had been taken down due to copyright violations.
And another song was put up in place.
So after my initial annoyance that I didn’t get to hear Katy Perry’s voice, I got hooked onto new song and started searching for the song’s name and the artist’s name.
Fortunately, some good soul left the song information the comments section. So I entered the song info into Youtube Search and hey presto! got the song.
I was hooked.
I played the song again and again.
It is awesome, in a different way.
For your info, 009 Sound System is the artist’s name.
The rules of the reading challenge are (taken from the blog):
So here’s how it works: Between January 1 and December 31, 2010, read one book in each of the following categories:
A book with a food in the title: Clockwork Orange, Grapes of Wrath, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
A book with a body of water in the title: A River Runs through It, Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters, The Lake House
A book with a title (queen, president) in the title: The Murder of King Tut, The Count of Monte Cristo, Lady Susan
A book with a plant in the title: A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Wind in the Willows, The Name of the Rose
A book with a place name (city, country) in the title: Out of Africa; London; Between, Georgia
A book with a music term in the title: Song of Solomon, Ragtime, The Piano Teacher
I haven’t been reading much the past year. I think I read a grand total of 3 books (add 3 to the number) in 2009. They were “The Life of Pi” by Yann Martel, “Playing for Pizza” and “Skipping Christmas” by John Grisham. I’m sure I read a few more books but these are the books that I can currently remember.
That being said, my reading have gone tremendously downhill. I used to be a voracious reader and would usually read a book every week or so. Somehow, as I got older, especially when I entered army, I think my attention span went downhill and my reading reduced to one book every 3 to 4 months.
So as an effort to start reading more, I decided to sign up for the challenged mentioned above. Although there’s a small incentive, the only thing driving me is to read different books in all 6 categories.
I’ve decided that out of the 6 categories, 3 shall be chosen from Singaporean writers. I don’t know which category but food is a definite first choice as a Singaporean writer will most likely write about food.
The choice is not arbitrary. As a Singaporean, I have read very little and know very little about Singaporean literature. The only writer that I can claim to read is Philip Jeyaretnam. Even then, I have only read one novel of his: “First Loves”. The other “Singaporean” writer I can claim to read is Neil Humphreys. I did read some Singaporean writers’ short stories and poems but they were scattered everywhere in anthologies. And not once have I read any Catherine Lim novel.
Starting this year, I aim to read more local literature.
So any Singaporean reader reading my blog, recommend any Singaporean writer to me.
I am not going to restrict myself to reading 6 books for this reading challenge. I aim to read more books, probably another 6 more or so, about the rate of 1 – 2 books a month. I know it is going to be difficult but if I can do it during my younger days, I’m sure I can still do it now.
I’m starting with this novel called “Indecision” by Benjamin Kunkel:
The title of the novel is very ironic.
Once I’m done with the novel, I’ll write out a review. That way, I’m accountable to my goals (fuck, I feel like I’m in school).
University readings don’t count.
A big thanks to Lovelyloey’s blog for introducing me to “What’s in a Name?” challenge. Her link is under “New Ink Inc” at the right.
And check out this new blog: Zack @ UB. It’s a new blog pertaining to media and communications. Something I wanted to do at Sydney U, but er, my grades were not too “top-notch”. Anyway, at least I got to do English Lit. So it’s still a win-win situation.
No song for this entry.
Night.
EDIT: I remembered one more book I read for 2009. It was loaned to me by Rajan and it’s “Slumdog Millionaire” or aka “Q&A” by Vikas Swarup.
Not the money shot variety. If you have no idea what the hell I’m talking about, Wikipedia will explain it all in full details: “Money Shot“.
I went for a facial at a beauty parlour.
With my Dad.
Not exactly the most manly father-son bonding activity. But there is a reason how my dad and I ended up having facial at a beauty parlour.
It all started with my mom (as situation like this are wont to). I was helping out my mom and younger sis as they were moving to a HDB flat (an apartment) that my parents rented recently. As the son, I was there to do the grunt work. Actually, I didn’t do much, the movers did most of the grunt work. I just stood there, scratching my butt and ‘supervised’ them.
Anyway, after moving into the new flat and rearranging some of the furniture according to my mom’s instructions, I flopped down on the couch and started to bum about.
Just then, my mom walked pass and for some reasons, she did a double take, walked towards me and said:
“Zareth, I think you should go for a facial.”
I gave my mom a quizzical look and asked her why.
“Well, I think a facial should be good for you.”
I shrugged and mumbled that I was “fine with anything” (my usual response) and continued staring at the ceiling with comatose eyes.
“OK,” mom said, “you really want a facial?”
I never had a facial before and some of the Youtube videos I saw had people comatose with pleasure from receiving facials. Actually, I never had a massage, a facial, or a spa treatment before. I did have a foot reflexology in Penang but that was done at the hotel poolside and not in some air-conditioned, dimmed room. And armchair massagers don’t count.
So I thought, what’s the harm in a facial? I get to pamper my skin, enjoy an hour of pure comatose bliss and come out feeling refresh.
So I agreed to have a facial.
My mom told me that she signed up for a package deal where she was given three facial treatments. She used up one facial treatment and did not have the time to use the other two. So she offered me one facial and the other one for my dad since “he could do with some facial treatment too”.
So I got a free facial treatment courtesy of my mom.
Two days later, I got a call from her saying she had booked my dad and I for the facial treatments at 1pm. I admit I was looking forward to it since it was my first facial.
So I met up with my dad and we both headed to the beauty parlour.
When we got there, I felt slightly awkward as the majority of the clients were women. Fortunately, my dad and I were led to separate rooms for our treatment. In the small room, there was a bed, a mirror, a small dressing table and a shower stall. Since it was my first facial, I stood beside the bed like a noob, wondering if I should get on first or wait for the beautician to come in.
I decided to wait for the beautician.
She came in a few minutes later and motioned me to lie on the bed. I got on the bed and the beautician covered my entire body with a large towel.
If you are wondering, no, I did not have to strip. I’m just having a facial, not an entire body massage. I got onto the bed fully clothed.
Anyway, the beautician wrapped another towel around my hair and proceeded with the treatment.
She started off with some cooling lotion to cleanse my face.
Hmmm…… it felt nice.
The sensation of the cotton pads and the cool lotion on my entire face soon put me into slumberland.
It continued for a few minutes before she moved on to do some light exfoliation on my skin. It felt great too. By then, I felt my skin was throughly cleansed.
After the exfoliation, she applied more lotion on my face, massaged it around and swapped it off with cotton pads. This continued for the next few minutes.
Lotion.
Massage.
Cotton pads.
Lotion.
Massage.
Cotton pads.
I had no idea what the lotion was or why it was needed to be applied numerous times. But it felt great and I was not going to stop the beautician.
By then, I was looking like this:
That is obviously NOT me. I got it from Google Pictures.
After all that lotion, massaging and cotton pads, the beautician laid two thin cotton pads on my eyelids. I was wondering why she needed to place cotton pads on top of my eyelids when I ‘felt’ or rather, ‘saw’ the lights of the room became brighter. Why did the beautician need such bright lights? What was she going to do next?
I was going to find out soon.
I felt the beautician’s fingers wrapped around my nose. With a firm force, she squeezed the tip of my nose.
What the…
Then I felt the prick of a needle.
Oh….. I see.
She was squeezing out my whiteheads and blackheads.
I actually felt slightly offended.
That was because the day before I used a blackhead strip. I have a slight problem with blackheads and that necessitates me to use blackhead strips every now and then. If the beautician could still find blackheads on my nose, it means the strip wasn’t doing a good enough job.
Oh well, at least the beautician will do the cleaning-up.
The beautician continued her routine for a few minutes. Squeeze, poke. Squeeze, poke poke poke. It was uncomfortable but the pain was still tolerable.
Until she moved onto my forehead.
Ever since I started keeping my hair long, I’ve been battling with pimple problems on my forehead. Of course, the beautician saw it as her duty to burst every, single, damn pimple. No matter how small they were, she was going to hunt them down.
It was pure, pure torture.
For 15 minutes, FIFTEEN minutes, actually I think it was much longer; the beautician squeezed, prodded, poked and popped every god damn pimple. She worked with meticulous efficiency, from my forehead, to my cheeks and then to my nose again and down to my chin and jawline.
I was in great agony by this time. I remembered thinking: “I didn’t sign up for this! I didn’t sign up to be tortured!”
My hands became cramped from the tension and my jaws ached from clenching my teeth. Worse still, my face felt on fire.
Yet, the beautician worked on. Every pimple, every whiteheads, every blackheads, every comedones, every single blemish she could find, she went after it.
Who could know that five fingers and a needle would wreck so much havoc?
By then, my eyes were tearing up constantly from the pain. Fortunately, the cotton pads on my eyelids soaked up all the tears. Now I know why they put cotton pads on the eyes.
I think my breath was coming out in sharp, short gasps.
It was that fucking painful.
I’m the type of guy that would never ever burst a pimple. Not even by myself. If I have a pimple, I would just wait it out, probably apply some cream and wait for it to subside.
I think this is how I looked when the beautician popped my pimples:
That is NOT me.
After the beautician was satisfied with popping my pimples, she proceeded to wipe off the blood from my face. Okay, there wasn’t a lot, but at that point of time, I imagined there was a lot.
The beautician then applied a very cooling lotion. After all that popping, my face was on fire, so the lotion was a very welcome reprieve. She did the same procedure again: lotion, massage, cotton pads.
Finally, the torture was over.
I was wrong.
It was not over.
The beautician wiped off the last vestige of lotion from my face. A few seconds later, I felt something warm pressed against my right cheek. At first it felt warm and nice. Then it felt hot and painful.
Then I felt a sharp sting.
Then I smelled a mixture of burning rubber and wait… was that the smell of my skin???
Oh great, so now I’m subjected to having facial burns on my face.
The beautician prodded my face with the burning stick. Up to now, I have no fucking idea what it was because my eyes was closed the entire time and by the time I opened my eyes, the offending instrument was gone. But I remembered the pain. I remembered screaming in my head that this was not what I expected. I imagined a very relaxing facial. Instead I was undergoing something completely different.
Fortunately, the burning procedure only took about a minute. The beautician left the room and came back a while later. This time, she placed a cotton gauze over my entire face.
What was going on now?
My guard was up. Why was a cotton gauze placed over my entire face? Was she going to do more painful treatments on me?
It turned out to be best part of the facial.
The beautician slather a very thick cream over my face. It was extremely cold but pleasant. She went on for a while, applying the cream to my face. After my face was covered in the cream (except the nostrils, I need to breathe), the beautician left and I laid on the bed with the cream on my face slowly solidifying.
When the cream turned into a semi-solid state, it felt heavy. But it was nothing compared to the previous two procedures. So I just laid on the bed, mask on my face and slowly drifted off to sleep.
The beautician came back about 15 minutes later and gently peeled off the cotton gauze and facial mask. When she did that, I never felt my face so clean before.
She then finished off the treatment by cleaning my face with lotion. After my face cleansing, she left the room first while I stood at the mirror, inspecting my mug. I expected my face to be inflamed with ugly, red spots after all the popping and burning but surprisingly, my face looked incredibly smooth and a lot better.
I went out of the room and saw my dad waiting for me in the reception area. After drinking some tea provided by the beautician, she told me that with my long hair, I better use a hairband to keep the hair away from my forehead. Advice that I intend to heed.
After my dad and I left the beauty parlour, my dad asked how my facial was.
“Painful. It was torturing,” I replied.
“Why?”
“The beautician popped every pimple on my face!”
My dad laughed and smugly reply: “I don’t have any pimple on my face.”
Talk about rubbing salt into the wound.
But would I go back for another facial?
Yes, I would. I never felt my face so clean before. But it’s expensive, so I don’t think I’m going for any in a long while.
I finished watching Season 1-4 of “Bones” within a week and Season 3-4 of “Prison Break” within 4 days. That’s how lazy I have been the past two weeks.
This is Scottie Thompson. I first saw her when she guest starred in Season 4 of “Bones”:
You might recognize her from “NCIS” as Jeanne Benoit or “Star Trek” as Nero’s Wife or the recent series “Trauma” as Diane Van Dine.
I love her eyes.
I seriously need a job.
P.S. What.. the… fuck is wrong with my blog. I can’t control the layout of my post. I’m seriously considering to change the whole theme of blog.
Hmm… maybe that will keep me occupied for a day or two.
(Taken from daymix.com)
Zareth Writes At 