<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562</id><updated>2012-02-16T10:24:45.522-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FOR PANTSDARIA!</title><subtitle type='html'>to wear or not to wear... that is the question faced by mankind throughout the years and it has come to me once more that the obvious answer is very difficult or the difficult question's answer obvious... pull your pants higher... that is the answer to all of life questions.
(plus it makes it difficult for people to kick you in the @#%!&amp; as it takes skill to judge the distance.)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-6415147186412862833</id><published>2009-01-01T03:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T04:40:55.421-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been awhile...</title><content type='html'>Hah. Finally I have come back to posting in this damned blog, I wonder whether it was just a matter or time. Neverthemore, I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT 2009 already! The new year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now thats the problem isn't it? Is that a good or is that a bad thing? Optimists say 'Yeah sure as hell it would be better!' whilst pesimists say 'See? I told ya so...' Haha is you didn't get that then I am probably rusty, just made that up lol. OKAY nvm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of you all may be thinking: 'What made me start posting again?'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I would say: 'Cause Livejournal died on me.' Cause it did. &lt;a href="mailto:!@#$"&gt;!@#$&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was thinking, what better way is there to start of the new year with a nice story of 'the news that should have been'? Right? Well, actually no, there is a better way I shall reflect on stuff and sulk and complain about the woes of life that I should have been complaining on my livejournal account. I shall. And you can't do anything about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so let's take a step back now, shall we? A large one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before 2008, it was 2007. (No shit) But the fact of life is that, there was in fact a new year last year, which means that we did actually go through the whole new year stuff and celebrated accordingly. BUT. Yes, I caps-ed the 'but' and made that word a sentence. But stop, and think about it. What resolutions did we give ourselves before 2008? Did we manage to accomplish any of them? Frankly speaking right now as I am typing this, I haven't the foggiest idea what I resolved to do in 2008 but I can't say the same for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I guess I didn't manage to accomplish anything, fair enough, it's better than getting worse...I GUESS)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two thousand and eight has been a funny year, almost so to the point of being sadistically masochistic, as the joy is from pain and the pain resulted in joy and the joy was painful to bear. They are actually three different things really. We had the natural dosage of fear in the world, natural disasters which did not hit us, lots of murders, terrorism and the ever-so-subtle economic downturn. Etcetera, etc. We had the same number of exams and school stuff, correct me if I am wrong, and experienced a nice level camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made new friends, lost some friends, forged stronger bonds, backstabbed people...You know the usual wishwash, just kidding for the last part I needed a contrasting statement to emphasize the feel of the sentence but since I just said this, it wouldn't mean much but you get my ultimate point. But I guess for me I basically learnt to forgive and forget, I hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking back now, the last year was a different one. The same new year, same celebrations, same resolutions, same hopes and dreams but in the end, from whatever point you look at it, unless you are blind (then in that case, sorry), the transit from last year to this year is different. Cause we are parting ways, well for some of us at least. WE would see less of of our old classmates, old friends and in my case squadmates. It is inevitable. I shan't drone on about all the hooblah about 'the time spent together was priceless' 'whatever bond forged was forged' 'we all have to parts way sooner or later, better it be painful than painless' 'that we wouldn't mind doing it all over again...' 'That I can't bear to leave last year behind and proceed to the next because of a fear that we would never be able to be the friends we were to each other again.' or that 'maybe the next time we see each other on the road we would not remember that name or this...'. Nope, not me, ain't that sentimental...not the tiniest little bit...cold as ice...*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I digress. I guess the main reason why I wanted to start posting here again is because I kinda miss this place? The web address alone brings back memories I hope I would never forget, ever. I am going to digress again, and I shan't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to shout out to all of you who have been my friend, closer or just aquaintances, that it has been a fun last four years with it's ups and it's downs and it's sidetracks and turns, plus in a lot of swearing, I am glad that I have went through those four year with you guys, or gals. And I hope that the next two years would be fantastic...okay, 'fantastic' is a tad too optimistic, 'better' would be...well, better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here and now, I shall end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is limmingxiang pullyourpantsup singing off to the new year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-6415147186412862833?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/6415147186412862833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=6415147186412862833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/6415147186412862833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/6415147186412862833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-been-awhile.html' title='It&apos;s been awhile...'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-6089991634776698691</id><published>2008-08-17T03:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T03:21:21.078-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wizards.com/magic/playmagic/whatcolorareyou.asp" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.wizards.com/magic/images/whatcolor_iswhite.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;b&gt;Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-6089991634776698691?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/6089991634776698691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=6089991634776698691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/6089991634776698691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/6089991634776698691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2008/08/take-magic-gathering-what-color-are-you.html' title=''/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-8913885577983277180</id><published>2008-06-11T04:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T05:01:17.875-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just look below, there's no secret message here...</title><content type='html'>Hah, it's been suprisingly nice to publish stuff here but now I am afraid to say that I will not be continuing to post, maybe at least not here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's strange how good it feels when someone tags your tagboard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe once in a red moon, I will post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S i love flowers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang thisisacrypticpost singing the last note on the last line of the last bar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-8913885577983277180?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/8913885577983277180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=8913885577983277180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/8913885577983277180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/8913885577983277180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2008/06/just-look-below-theres-no-secret.html' title='Just look below, there&apos;s no secret message here...'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-790114585420091317</id><published>2008-06-08T06:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T04:11:26.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The smile on your face, lets me know that you need me.</title><content type='html'>Took the quiz. The options were hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffff66;"&gt;You're 6:49 a.m.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;You're the time of day right around sunrise, when the sky is still a pale bluish gray. The streets are empty, and the grass and leaves are a little bit sparkly with dew. You are the sound of a few chirpy birds outside the window. You are quiet, peaceful, and contemplative. If you move slowly, it's not because you're lazy ? it's because you know there's no reason to rush. You move like a relaxed cat, pausing for deep stretches that make your muscles feel alive. You are long sips of tea or coffee (out of a mug that's held with both hands) that slowly warm your insides just as the sun is brightening the sky.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.the-n.com/quizzes/quiz/3321"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.the-n.com/media/quiz/badges/timeofday_quiz/649.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang laughingmypantsoff singing off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-790114585420091317?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/790114585420091317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=790114585420091317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/790114585420091317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/790114585420091317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2008/06/smile-on-your-face.html' title='The smile on your face, lets me know that you need me.'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-4075368349327073219</id><published>2008-06-02T19:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-07T04:04:59.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Each love is kindly marked for forever...</title><content type='html'>Hey, squadmates! this post is for you. It's a little something I cooked up yesterday night, hope you can decipher it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Zephyr&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;June’s night has yield some tears,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;How away we swam hard home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Strong my love with you-all grown,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;Kindness showed forever cherished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Knowing, each time, hour, year exits,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The jaunt yesterday defines your love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Friend, Come over, make X-mas young kindred,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Know each moment, know your charm. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;-KM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S Post. Script&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang pullyourpantsup singing on&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-4075368349327073219?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/4075368349327073219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=4075368349327073219' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/4075368349327073219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/4075368349327073219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2008/06/each-love-is-kindly-marked-for-forever.html' title='Each love is kindly marked for forever...'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-3808926587737421000</id><published>2008-05-16T05:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T05:27:04.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>As we go on, we remember, all the times we, had together...</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;The Last Campfire&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy sat down on the cold concrete seat. Even though the night’s chill licked at him, the warmth from his friends kindled a fire from within. Yes, his friends. He turned and took a look at his classmates, friends, brother and sisters, whatever they were called, his eyes attuned to the darkness of the witching hour. He looked closely. As his eyes slowly spotted each one of his friends he felt something stir in his heart. What emotion, what feeling. No words could describe it, it was simply indescribable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He could not concentrate much on whatever performance was on at that time, neither could he concentrate on his own bodily fatigue. He could only feel that hidden emotion wrenching his heart and soothing it at the same time. His mind drifted away from the campfire. He thought about the few days before, they had been through a lot. From every activity to every cheer, they were together as one. From every raft to raft they were together as one, from every waterfall to waterfall they were together as one, from every step to step they were one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, the boy finally realized, it was the last day of the camp. It was going to be all over. Was he happy? Yes, he was, how could he not be? He was looking forward to this day from the very start of the camp! He should be elated, he should be… Was he sad? Yes, he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His mind flickered back to the past few days again. He saw his friends again, together, not scattered like now at this campfire. He saw their faces of joy, joy when they joked around. He saw confidence, confidence like no other when they were cheering. He saw friendship, friendship that lends a hand every time you fall, friendship that will never die, come what may. He saw the class spirit, spirit that mends the wound for every bicker. Oh, how much they bickered. He saw unity, unity never ever before seen, unity that could shake the earth and tear the skies, unity that can bring love. Love, love for each one and every of his classmates, love that will be and never wouldn’t, love that could make one withstand a thousand adversities, and still stand strong for another thousand, Love that will last an eternity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was going to be over soon. The boy looked back again, behind him, at his friends. This time only in a general direction, his eyes became hard to focus, vision slightly blurred. Now, he knew what feeling was in his heart, he understood why he was here, everything made sense now. It did not matter whether they were sitting as a class now. It did not matter whether they weren’t all best friends. It did not matter whether they won any award. Neither did it matter that it was the last day nor did it matter that it was probably the last time they did anything as class. What mattered was simply that they were here, with him, till the very end. Once again, he felt that emotion stir in his heart, tears trickled down his cheeks as he continued to watch the performance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the camp commandant spoke. Fatigue dragged the boy’s mind down, only a few words were heard, but that was enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, everyone has to part ways. And sometimes we may never see each other again. We may forget this person’s and that person’s name, and maybe forget what we done together, forget everything about each other as we go on in life. We may meet on the street and pass without knowing we were in the same class, we may go on in life never knowing what we thought about of each other. We may never contact each other again. But remembering that whatever we did as a class happened, remembering that whatever bond was forged was forged, and whatever laughter was laughed, and remember that for once in our lives, we had friends like these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy looked up at the stars in the black velvet sky, decorated by stars which twinkled like teardrops and closed his eyes. He tried to capture the image and store that exact moment in his life. So that…so that he could one day revisit that moment again, to experience it all over again, just one more time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy bent his head down and cheered softly and silently, for one last time, in his heart, a place where they all cheered….together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘It does not matter whether you are able to win the war alone or not. Neither does it matter that you are the strongest that ever lived. What truly matters is whether you can bring everyone else along with you, and stick through thick and thin, helping them if they cannot carry on. Usually, the bond forged between two people is much stronger than one person alone, so imagine three, and then four. People who will be kept closest to you, strengthening you every time you weaken, pointing you to the right direction every time you are lost, are kept in your heart, and you, in theirs. Cherish and treasure every second you have with those people as with time such people will leave you physically. But with every extra second you spend with them, a little more of them fill up your heart and memory each time…’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;-Zachariah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang doourclasstee cheering off...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-3808926587737421000?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/3808926587737421000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=3808926587737421000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/3808926587737421000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/3808926587737421000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2008/05/as-we-go-on-we-remember-all-times-we.html' title='As we go on, we remember, all the times we, had together...'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-7909615580742705343</id><published>2008-04-23T04:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T04:54:00.896-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What is the meaning of life? Srsly</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Hey Hey... its been awhile since I last posted. I s'pose the blog is most likely classified under 'dead' now, but what the heck, I revived it. As for the reason why I revived it is because...well, I got reminded of my blog and re-read some of my older posts (No, that is not lame...), and it was fairly touching to remember times when I could just crap things out like no one's business...Just had a lot on my mind lately....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Anyway, heres the post. Forgive me if its boring or anything, I felt its rather meaningful. No powerful vocab found here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;An excerpt from a book that was never called a book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Strider, why do you even try?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘I try because I live. You can’t try when you are dead.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘We aren’t even considered alive, Strider, we can’t even eat, sleep or bleed, for that matter.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Living is not always about eating and sleeping, and as for bleeding, I rather the people whom I protect not to bleed.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘But don’t you find our existence so…so inconsequential?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘I can’t really find anything that is consequential.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘You don’t find your love for Jasmine consequential?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Love can hardly be called consequential, Lucifer. You should know that.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Yes…’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Lucifer?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Yes?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘What is the meaning of life?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Life?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Yes, Life. Existence. Subsistence. Being here at this time. Life.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘I do not know, Strider, that is something I do not know. I have seen death many times over, but not life a single time. Life is more than living, than evolving, than adapting, for if it is just that, than perhaps we are just created for no actual purpose. Whatever we do has no consequence on the universe, we are here just because we are. Whether it’s because we should, or we must, there’s no changing the fact that our very existence is by pure chance. However, it’s impossible to say that all objects were created for a reason in the first place. I feel that it is our duty to find what this purpose is, a reason why we are alive. If not, we could just be a speck of dust, our existence and purpose already defined by whatever which created them. Once, an entity finds it’s true purpose in existence, it’s will alone would be able unstoppable. A mind so clear and definite, even you or I can’t stop it. That’s why, Strider, I exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘But you are always causing chaos and disorder throughout the universe.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Exactly, oh Lord of the Universe.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S Note the painful irony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.P.S Strider is suppose to be the one restoring order in the universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang pullyourpantsup singing off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-7909615580742705343?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7909615580742705343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=7909615580742705343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/7909615580742705343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/7909615580742705343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2008/04/what-is-meaning-of-life-srsly.html' title='What is the meaning of life? Srsly'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-7076254127408847860</id><published>2007-12-09T06:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T07:04:39.615-08:00</updated><title type='text'>FOR PANTSDARIA!!!</title><content type='html'>Yo! It’s the end of the year! We cheered that it was here and now…it is STILL HERE! WHOO! YEEHAW! RIGHT ON!.....Or so you think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is over! The holidays are being forsaken by god, wrenched away from our miserable lives, torn to little tiny pieces and used from Christmas decorations, pounded into dust which further disintegrates into microscopic fragments of nothingness, fading into oblivion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok! Enough of the self-pity! We are students! The very heart of our country! We have been through projects, tests, exams, presentations, IDMI, CHINESE! We are INVINCIBLE!!!! (During the holidays)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onwards to the topic, I have realized that though my blog hath been about pants it has never really been about pants. SO I felt it to be very fitting to discuss on the topic about pants.&lt;br /&gt;What is pants?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is simply something we are destined to wear? A simple apparel which we carelessly throw over bodies? A useless/useful segment of garment made of two cylindrical tubules of sorts for our appendages to seek refuge in? Or is it just…pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It keeps us warm, shelters our mechanical transport organs from the various elements, protects our humane psychological modesty and defines our social standing in the nuclear family. Such an insignificant…thing, that we decorate ourselves with with no careful attention to what meaningful and purposeful reason it has to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We treat it for granted, this unique artifact passed from generation not even known to man, this odd shaped cloth shaped like two rectangles overlapping each other at the corners so gracefully and elegantly. Like a piece of art fused with a placid scenic view of mountain ranges, trees brimming with life yet the chill of autumn decaying them methodically, so that splashes of orange and magenta pervade the steady terrain of sleek cool green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much dedication and love was fuelled into the flawless design of pants. The invisible designers measuring the perfect angle for the two rectangles to conjoin, the concertina shaped interlocked region, the symmetrical regular halves which extend beautifully outwards at directions of truth and hope at end with such magnificence of a dying steed, hooves pounding the ground with so much vigor and health, yet how futile the struggle between life and death as even the great must one day fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pants is the very mark of our identity and our very soul. Wear it to high, and people might kill you. Wear it to low, and regret ever wearing it. But wear it just at the point of perfection, the very pinnacle of social understanding and norm, the heart of the area with no name, and you will attain true enlightenment. It is at that point, that very spot where the holy haft sat, the evil haft fallen, that point of true perfection and devotion, that separates the typical ‘pants-wearer’ from the‘pants-BELIEVER’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that I end this post, and remember, respect the pants, for the pants respects YOU! May the pants be with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang putyourpantsproperly singing off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-7076254127408847860?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7076254127408847860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=7076254127408847860' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/7076254127408847860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/7076254127408847860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2007/12/for-pantsdaria.html' title='FOR PANTSDARIA!!!'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-8990232041518577516</id><published>2007-11-25T22:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T22:15:10.568-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PEOPLE! PEOPLE! Lend me your ears! NO! Seriously, I need them....</title><content type='html'>Hey guys... I need your help. And no ZHIKAI is NOT illegal, he is just CONTRABAND.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I need help on my posts. I was wondering what should I post about.&lt;br /&gt;Controversial, Nonsense, Life, School, Holidays, Pigeons, ZhiK...you get my drift.&lt;br /&gt;Any feedback would be appreciated. And please for pant's sake stop maligning ZHIKAI he's just a sad little boy with screwed up hair, life, internet, face, pants, dance moves....Just joking lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang pullyourantsup singing off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-8990232041518577516?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/8990232041518577516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=8990232041518577516' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/8990232041518577516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/8990232041518577516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2007/11/people-people-lend-me-your-ears-no.html' title='PEOPLE! PEOPLE! Lend me your ears! NO! Seriously, I need them....'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-1602975261541702854</id><published>2007-09-16T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T07:33:37.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Exams...They are coming.</title><content type='html'>Okay, my internet is taking extremly long to load this goddamn page so I am seeing how much i can type before the... ARGH. K, never mind. I shall proceed on with my mundane topic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EXAMS! What kind of infidel to the world's of ages past of intelligence would not come to hear of such a unspoken word? I trust of none. The very word symbolises the reapers from the deep and unforgiving pits of Hell itself, ripping poor innocents sould from ragged bodies thrown upon the defiled trenches of misery and hate. Cries fill the air with remorse and anguish as death stalks each and everyone one's bedraggled corpses strewn at the feet of Heathen Death Gods. The very second justice and warmth are shattered and disintegrated is the moment the godforsaken word is uttered. As the old wizened lady impaled with dozens of metal spikes inscribes our epitaph on a smodering granite tombstone with her bloodied hands, legions of locusts strip bear whatever fruits there are in this sea of conglomerated industrial refuse. The word which forcasts the lives which we never had and the word which is the harbringer of Death. Yes, it is the EXAMS....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I doing? You may ask me so earnestly with puppy-dog eyes of innocence. Well, to enlighten the burden on your cerebral cortex I am blogging. Blogging about the EXAMS. Damn you made me say it again...Ok. I shall continue with the story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was only one week away from the exams. The students unfaltering virgil on the mottled calender made sure of that. 8 subjects with 7 days, it was not looking good. The teachers looked down upon them with dark eyes full of contempt. 3 days away from the exams, the students continued their revision, tearing through textbook after notebook after notes, their concentration wanning, still there was 8 subjects. The entire school stayed back in the confinement of the premises for fear of wasting tranport time, it was insanity. 2 days and 8 subjects, some students died of malnutrition, and others just died. The remaining consisted of vegetables whose brain ran dry from over-concentration. Only the strong remained. The teachers patrolled the camp like wardens holding red ink pens, itching to get a crack at the impending papers. One day left, the students were holding strong. Malaria spread like wildfire and hysteria unsettled the ranks. Already, 30 students were sent to the medic's frothing at the mouth with uncontrolled convulsions while some of them ended their own lives by snapping every single one of their pen in half. The surviving students raged on, lactic acid burned their fingers, their eyes shrivelled from dryness, their legs had ruptured varicose veins, their bones were hollow and their teeth rotted into dust. It was going to be over. Suddenly, a student stood up roughly, his action pushing the table in front of him slamming into the opposite student which instanteneously crumbled to dust. Ignoring this, the students took all of his books and notes and pens and threw them into a heap of burning students corpses. The teachers turned to him and glared and piercing eyes. A students which was caught in the general direction instantly fell clutching his heart, and after a few minutes of writhing he stopped, cold to the touch. The students who stood up ignored this and with a full hearted cry leapt of the nearest teacher and using his body weight, slammed into the teacher propelling the teacher into a nearby cache of red fountain pens. The box exploded outwards of the red pens, and the teacher struggled to get up. The other teachers watched him get up. Before any knew, nearby students got up from their trance like state of mind and started throwing textbooks and pencils at the teachers. The teachers responded ruthlessly shooting red pens and hurling lockers at the students. It was 500 students against 50 strong teachers it was not good odds. The lead student stood up on a chair and watch his fellow students fight fearlessly and valiantly. He saw the teachers shooting down the students by the tens. He saw a particular student charge forth midst the the hail of red pens towards the battlefront of the wall of merciless teachers. Several pens pierced his courageous skin bright red fluid spilt out of his wounds by he did not stop. Almost there, he lifted up his weapon, an english hardcover Longman 50th edition dictionary of comtemporary english, and leapt at the nearest teacher. More pens penetrated his clothing, 4 in his left arm, 5 in his torso, and 20 other scattered over his body, but still he continued. He striked. It made contact with the teacher's temple, the teacher instantly collapsed in a heap. 5 teachers moved in and stabbed him in the abdomen with metal rulers. The students cried out, a cry of anger and pain, but of fufillment. The teachers withdrew their rulers from his body and the student fell to his knees. The teachers turned round to continue the assault, they did not see the student, bleeding profusely get up and dashed at them still wielding his dictionary. They turned around, not fast enough, the student swung one final decisive blow, it did not matter whether they would retaliate, he knew it was the last strike he'd ever deal, he was contented. One of the teachers got hurled into a mass of frenzied students swarming him, bashing him up up tables, chairs, lockers, locks, a whiteboard...The lead student watched as his fellow students tore across the battlefield with unyielding and relentless blitz, and his heart soared. He thought of the times where there was no school, no tests, no essay and no exams, the time when he knew what happiness was. He looked again at his comrades, now weak in number but stronger in courage, the ones who stood through adversities, thick and thin, the ones who would die for him, but ultimately for a common goal. With a bellow of rage of leapt of his chair, and sprinted across a bloody battlefield with comrades dying all around him, into the fray. Multiples pens embedded themselves into his flesh but he did not wince. Now's the time, the time to strike, the time score, the time to fulfill, the time to win and the time to PASS!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above advertisement on Stabilo Swan red pens are subjected copyright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S Rated M18: Violence and Gore but since its at the bottom and you most likely din noe abt it until u read finish the story I suppose I could let it slide...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-1602975261541702854?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/1602975261541702854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=1602975261541702854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/1602975261541702854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/1602975261541702854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2007/09/examsthey-are-coming.html' title='Exams...They are coming.'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-8169876670142909453</id><published>2007-08-13T05:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-13T07:42:23.586-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally, on the brink of destruction...</title><content type='html'>Yea! As morbid as the title might suggest I have this feeling that something big and undoutedbly bad is going to happen, trust me.&lt;br /&gt;Ok...It's been awhile since I last posted since that last essay was freakishly long and actually consumed some of my knowledge. Which brings me to the subject of knowledge. Nah I ain't gonna type some freakishly long post again,(who has the time?) instead, I plan to just write a story instead, that way it would be better for both of us....you'll have to trust me again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Knowledge&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Tyrond was a exceptionally brilliant tactician. At a very young age he was able to devise of plans and strategies which would usually effective in whatever circumstance, and quickly too. Some examples, were perhaps him playing soccer, he never actually stood on the field but he could direct his players with such swiftness and calmness that the players themselves were bolstered by his empowering voice. His soccer tatics eluded the best of teams and his strategies were so detailed that every gameplay had multiple fallbacks for respective situations and even these fallbacks have fallbacks of their own.  Whoever who was in his team usually won the game. Besides soccer he also excelled in strategy games. He does not click fast nor does he the best gaming peripherals but rivals no doubt still see him as someone who they should be wary of. Strategy games was something he prided himself in and he never lost a match. His plans and devices were impeccable, no loophole could be found. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;As every ant has its termite, there was another boy in the same school called Luke. Luke was no brilliant mind who could forecast any game whatsoever and was considerably lazier than Tyrond. Believable enough, Tyrond spends his hours before matches or games planning and gearing up his game plan. Contrastly, Luke hardly does any fore work and if you challenged him there and then he would most likely accept the challenge and the next secound you find yourself dealing with him. So, what's do special about Luke? For starters his mind was comparable to the smartest people ever lived. He could think of ways out, improvisions, inventions, impromtu plays and even speeches on the spot. His mind was quick and most of all, he could follow it. In this manner, he could be said to be considerably smarter than Tyrond.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Word spreads around the school, and Tyrond hears that his reputation is being overshadowed by Luke's. Consumed by anger, he goes to Luke and challenged him in what he's best at: a strategy game. Of course, Tyrond had already planned the match ever since he heard the rumours spreading and had draft and spreadsheets of calculations, predictions and strategies which could take everyone down even if it was a thousand brains to one, even if a nimwit followed the plans people would think he was a saint. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So the game chosen was a very plain game it was neither graphically estatic nor was it very exciting. the alone way to win was through tatics. Tyrond smirked at the very idea. As the two sat down oppostie one another, game loading, Tyrond flourished his plans and tatics made specially for the occasion. Luke seeing this was unfazed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;'You know, you ARE going to lose' Tyrond cautioned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;'Really? If I am then perhaps I should go get a new com, cause the only reason I am gonna lose if if my com suddenly explodes' Luke replied calmly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;'Fine.' Tyrond said defiantly as the game commenced.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;There was a hundred soldiers on each team and they were suppose to destroy the opponent's base while defending their own. It was simple enough. High ground advantage, rocky fields, rivers and forested areas gave way to millions of ways to take out the opponent's hundred soldiers. Choosing a base would mean life and death. Tyrond chose his base to be on a hill with far sight range and good all-rounded defense, Luke would definitely find it hard to battle upwards. Luke casually chose a dense forest, which getting in and getting out was equally difficult. Tyrond kicked into action. he reserved 20 soldiers in base and sent the rest out. He reasoned 20 should be enough to hold out long enough for the other 80 to come back.  His hill was near the centre of the map a little more inclined to the left side. There was a river forking also near the centre of the map effectively splitting the map into three. The top right of the map was where Luke's base was in a dense forest sheilded by a rocky field. There were three briges connecting each island to the next rather conveniently though the soldiers could do without the bridges. Tyrond sent 30 soldiers the top bridge near the top right of the map for brigde control and sent 30 the the bottom bridge for again control and to guard against Luke. From his point he could see the map quite clearly. His hill was surrouded by rocks providing excellent obstacles for anyone who wanted to attack. There was a hill at the bottom bridge serving as a guard post and ambush point. Tyrond planned to strike if Luke's forces came that way. He sent the last 20 as scouts to find Luke's base through the bottom bridge. As the scouts scoured the bottom right island, Tyrond felt a little uneasy about it, something was wrong, it seemed too easy, he already had control of two bridges and scouts finding Luke's base at the bottom right island. Suddenly, 20 soldiers attacked Tyrond top bridge across the river. He predicted that these must be Luke's expeditionary forces. Tyrond ordered his troops to attack aggressively. Simultaneously, his 20 scout soldiers were attacked by 60 of Luke's oldier's at the bottom island. Seeing that it was pointless fighting he withdrew his soldiers back to the bottom bridge in the safety of the hill. Losing only 5 soldiers. At the top, a massive fight was going on but Tyrond knew he would definitely win given the odds but held back as he knew that it would not be wise to chase past the river, reinforcements might lurk there. The fight ended when Luke lost 10 soldiers and Tyrond 5 soldiers, an exchange. Tyrond reasoned that Luke's base must be at the bottom right since resistance was so heavy and decided to move the 25 of his soldiers past the bridge in an attempt to pincer Luke up. The 10 soldiers there did not pose a threat to his plan. The 45 soldiers he left there to defend against any army trying to attack his base. He moved his 25 soldiers in a regular pattern so as to prevent any soldiers getting past them. Tyrond was quite contented with this manouvre. All of a sudden, his 25 troops were under attack. He could not count the numbers since it was very rocky and boulders impeded vision. The shots fired seem to come from all around. Tyrond executed his evasive tatics and dispersed his group into groups of five spreading out and finding his ambushees. 5 of his soldiers were lost but he killed 5 of Luk's as well. Tyrond regrouped and continued the march. He scaled the coast with his 20 soldiers in the rocky fields. As he reached a hill he ordered his men to spread out to surround the hill keeping in the cover of the bushes. then at once he charged up the hill, surprising the forces there. Both parties lost 20. It was a fair enough trade considering he was on lower ground. With a sudden sense of dread he realized that his top was completely open. Calmly, as indicated in his plans he divided his 45 soldiers and sent 20 to guard top. Just as his 20 left the 45. The bottom bridge-hill was attacked by 30 of Luke's forces. 25 against 30 it was a fair fight considering he was a a hill. Luke's forces withdrew as they lost 25 soldiers in the battle, whilst Tyrond lost 20.  Counting the numbers lost so far, he realized that he has more soldiers than Luke, if he continued to play defensively he might hold Luke off and wear him down then sweeping in to crush him. Tyrond sent 10 soldiers from his base to the bottom hill. He though of how he was going to take up defensive positions at points to flank Luke. He was going to win. All of a sudden, every instinct screamed at him to regroup at base. Tyrond lost control and he flipped through his plans everything has been exactly in planned only catch was his reached his final fallback...there was no more plans after this defensive flanking, he assumed he had won. Tyrond hesitated. In that instance Tyrond's base was under siege by an unknwon number of soldiers, the rocks hid their numbers carefully. Furthermore, his base was attatcked from all sides. the 10 mewasly soldier were holding off but definitely not for long. he swiftly move all his soldier to flank Luke's soldiers and pin them down using the hill. It was a bloody battle but Tyrond he was going to win, Luke had no way out and he had more forces than him. As he commenced his flanking Luke's forces stopped firing and disappeared into the rocks. Tyrond ordered all forces to be back at the hill. He lost 5 soldiers in that battle. Just as he thought all was well the 5 soldiers fromt he bottom hill got slautered as they made their way back to the hill. They had obviously met the unknown no. of soldiers. Tyrond analysed the situation, it wasn't good. According to some of his older tatics he should strike back as a couter-offensive, he then sent 30 of his soldiers down the hill to where his 5 soldiers died. Just as he predicted, Lukes forces were resting there in the cover of trees. The ambush was prung and Tyrond's 30 soldiers fought with 30 of Luke's soldiers. Luke escaped with 5  while Tyrond had 15 left. The odds were suddenly in his favour. Tyrond gave chase to the 5 pathetic soldiers but realized the dense jungle was too much for the 15 soldiers to handle and decided to pull back. He was already winning. Out of the blue, the 15 soldiers were under attack. the bottom hill was control by Luke and 10 soldiers. Tyrond lost 5 in that unfortunate encounter. It was 15 vs 10. Tyrond knew he had to tread lightly. Logically speaking, he could win easily by sending 10 soldiers to Luke's base and it was most likely defenceless. He set off the 10 soldiers to Luke's base and waited.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Suddenly, Luke stood up from his seat and after offing his monitor he went to Tyrond's side. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;'What the hell, you trying to cheat? Or have you already given up?'  Tyrond asked haugtily.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;'Look at your base, you dolt' Luke replied casually, as if disappointed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Prophetic enough, Tyrond's base was under siege by those 10 soldiers form all sides. the 5 meagre soldiers were barely enoguh to cope with al the fire. the rovks made it difficult to aim and judge their no.s though Tyrond knew it was 10. The 10 soldiers he sent already reached the bottom right island, perhaps if he found Luke's base before his was destroyed he might pull it off. Tyrond frantically, sieved through the island as his soldiers died at his base he started to get more and more nervous. When he was down to his last soldier he became overcome with anxiety that he did not realized he already checked the island twice. The last soldier fell. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;All this while Luke had been behind him watching his feverish movements. As Tyrond watched his base burn to ashes he turned back and looked at Luke with imploring eyes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;'How...? How...were you one step ahead of me every time?' Tyrond muttered defeatedly.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;' Well, first of all, I did not do anything fancy. My base was at top roght all the while hidden in the dense forest. I reasoned you wouldn't find me there if you were distracted...' Luke replied.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; 'That's why you placed 60 soldiers there at first, as a distraction, not a defense' Tyrond spoke with a sense of enlightenment, his plans never prepared him for that,' but what about the 35 soldiers showing up at my doorstep?'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;' I realized that you were busy controlling the bridges so i allowed myself time to swim across the river. I reasoned that you would not try anything with your divided forces against my 60 soldiers. Thus explaining my sudden sppearance'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;'So I could have...but if I...I should have went to...' Tyrond's word were left hanging in mid air as he watched Luke exit the room not looking back. It was over, he lost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The end&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;After reading that long story I would like to ask you people this question:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;What exactly is knowledge? Is it knowing things beforehand or knowing how to act when the time is right? Or is it total supreme intellectual capabilities or perhaps just knowing how to adapt to change?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;It is hard to define knowledge, most would refer it to grades and such but I think not. Knowledge is definitely broader than that. Its just like anyone can be smart but not everyone can be wise. Intelligience does not mean you are knowledgeble neither does learning how to apply it. Instead when thoughts becomes reason and reason becomes action and action becomes opportunity and opportunity becomes achievment only then do you understand the meaning of knowledge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;'I am not wise and all-knowing as you think, Strider. I am just a ordinary old man in a weird looking robe who seem to give answers in abstract forms. Frankly, the only reason why people think I am wiser than them is because they do not give themself the chance'-Zachariah&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I am limmingxiang pullyourpantsup singing off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-8169876670142909453?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/8169876670142909453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=8169876670142909453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/8169876670142909453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/8169876670142909453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2007/08/finally-on-brink-of-destruction.html' title='Finally, on the brink of destruction...'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-4989473099436606719</id><published>2007-07-23T05:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T05:33:25.429-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Emo? What is emo?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;YO! It's been awhile since my last post cause i have been working on this lastest project and hoped you like it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;‘Emo-ism’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, as the topic might have suggested I am in no doubt going to talk about being emotional or otherwise known as emo.&lt;br /&gt;First of all, what is emo? Is it an aspect of one’s subconscious mind conjuring up massive feelings of sadness and anguish so much so that the body breaks down and obvious shunting to a desolated corner would overrule all other productive forms of work? Or is simply a choice for the victim to choose from the dark recesses of the incomprehensible human mind? Whatever is the reason, be it an alien strand of neuron infecting virus or just a simple mind over matter, we shall delve into that soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The definition of emo can definitely be thought to be unnervingly consequential but alas I am here to albeit prove that slightly false. As emo is by no doubt that it is not in the common dictionary an individual must seek the answer through their own mind. My own definition perhaps is the situation where one finds all else of no degree of excitement and thus feels compelled to reduce oneself to an almost ethereal form, seemingly unsure of what to do or simply becoming non-existent. The person who is emo would also erect this invisible but strong barrier around him or herself psychologically and radiate this immense sense of grief to an extraordinary extent until all who are caught in it are disturbed and are also dragged most of the time unwillingly into the emosphere as I call it. People who notice this would normally have a sudden urge to inquire about that person either through direct or indirect contact. Direct contact would usually result in an unprecedented rejection by words, physical rejection could also result. Indirect contact would inevitably result in a whopping amount of speculations and thus also resulting in a nil answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Moving past the definition part, the whole damned reason people emo is what bothers everyone. Face it; we succumb to curiosity stupidly at every important juncture wondering why that person is emo-ing is something which just spring up upon us like a cat after you stepped on its tail. It is usually part of human nature to ask questions. I mean like who on earth doesn’t? Unless you are the smartest thing on earth which a large brain or the dumbest vegetable rotting, I do not see why you wouldn’t ask questions. So you say you ask it out of concern for that person, fair enough, but you know as well as I do you are just curious.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, reasoning time. What can be the reasons for emo-ing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;1) Sadness. Yep, you said it: Sadness. One word sums it all up, be it you lost your dearest handphone or your pet monkey died, it is all the same. Human beings have emotions and everyone gets sad, it is just how you portray or express these emotions that matters. One can choose to hide one’s feelings, tell jokes to cover up or, in this matter, just emo. It is scary when you see your friend skulking in a corner or doing some sadistic catwalk alone in the front or back. It pains you to just wonder what on earth is happening to him though you already know he got dumped by his stead or his pet monkey died. Being sad leads you to emo but you do have a choice but remember, being emo doesn’t mean you are sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;2) Pure boredom. Yes, everyone knows what ‘sian’ is and extremely ‘sian’ is not for the faint hearted. From reasons pertaining to lost of heart, your pet monkey died, a droning teacher who speaks in alien tongue or just ultimate ‘been-there-done-that’ attitude, it all results in either emo or just plain solidification. Now I shall take the chance to clarify some issues between stoning and emo-ing. Stoning first of all is just simply halting your brain activity so that it is near nil; so as to save the neurons in between you brain all the manual labor, thus allowing rest and relaxation. Now I know, seeing your friend cast in stone could make you think he is emo-ing as he would be lagging behind at every junction almost getting rammed by a wannabe driver with a ‘fast and furious’ décor but let me tell you something; it is different. And the only difference is perhaps their attitude, if you call upon your friend to wake up or ask him a question, the one who is stoning would seem to take a express train from lala land back and seem to wake with a startle while as in the case of emo-ing they would just reply with an irritating ‘been-there-twice-over’ kind of attitude which pisses you off. Dragging us back to the topic, why is boredom a reason for emo? Okay, its simple, when you are bored you will think about the things you could have done in that time-frame even if some of the ‘you-could-have-done’ stuff wouldn’t have been done anyway. But the urge is there and we all know it, if you are denied something and forced to attend something godforsaken then I think that you will feel so frustrated and stressed that you will just breakdown and emo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;3) Next, Stress. One word to rule them all. It is the very reason computer games and beds were invented. Face it, if smoking kills, stress would be a golden ticket to the 13th level of hell, not that I am encouraging you guys to go smoke, it’s just a comparison. Stress can be attained from an exceptionally wide array of reasons ranging from: you have three common test tomorrow and you haven’t studied, you have two common test tomorrow and you have a CCA which burns your afternoon away like burning rubbish in Switzerland or it could be that you have a common test tomorrow but you cannot study since you have to attend your pet monkey’s funeral. Besides these reasons, it could be that you lost your billabong wallet, smashed your new N90 Nokia phone on the accursed boulevard or it could be that you have waited a heck of a long time to buy a necklace for that special girl’s birthday tomorrow but another girl you like just asked to out to late dinner. Stress could just compress your brain literally and figuratively like a steel beam bending under the weight of a massive and colossal object (your mother). This much pressure can make you snap like a high tension wire, the backlash would shatter your mind and crush your heart making everything seem obsolete and the hundred and ninety percent attention driven towards your problem would aid in your destruction and therefore making you emo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;4) Outcast-ed, exiled, excluded, banished or ‘tao-ed’. These things are the paradoxical sustenance of emo-ism. They aid in emo-ing and yet they feed on it. Something like a reverse mushroom doing photosynthesis. The causes are common and simple yet devastating. From being utterly ignored, having no friends and no one to talk to cause your pet monkey died to being the bane of everyone’s one’s existence or just irritating any girl you talk to, or boy for that matter. There are definitely prior causes to that but maybe I shall elaborate on it some other far and distant time where World of Warcraft is made free to all. Now, aside from dreaming, everyone hates to be left out. Everyone wants to be included in that joke and not be the joke. Everyone wants to go watch that movie instead of sitting at home chatting with ‘smarter child’ on the MSN. Everyone wants to be popular deep down inside and wanted if not just noticed, and not noticed just because someone else pulled your pants down during assembly. However, if you are an outcast and usually find yourself acting all important and a big-shot or you find yourself forcing yourself into the company of others then I think the chances of you being emo is pretty darn high. When being ostracized one tends to feel that no one in the world cares about you and your family members just seem to make things worse and don’t forget that students spend more time in school than at home (actively). You would most likely feel that that group of people laughing are laughing at you or that you are born into this world to just die. The subsequent effects are usually gets worse and worse and are unfortunately exponential. It’s like the snowball effect where the snowball just gets bigger and bigger as it rolls picking up more snow along the rumble. A simple cycle could perhaps be: John goes to school, gets his pants pulled down in front of everybody, the joke of everybody for that day and feels sad and tries to hide himself. Next day, he comes to school and is still the joke of everybody, people laugh and mock him around every corner, he feels anguished but hides his emotions and albeit himself. Next day, he goes to school and is once again teased, no the anger built inside is unleashed and he breaks one of his tormentor’s nose, he is then brought to the discipline master’s office and from then on is classified as a dangerous person, people outcast him. This cycle continues and increases by a huge amount as more silly things happen to him until it reaches a point where life is meaningless and there is nothing left for John. Right here, in shows usually there would be some kind girl or boy for that matter who comes along and aids him and gives him moral support and defends him from the other students but in reality it might not be the case. It is difficult not to be emo when ostracized, and this reason could be the most lethal and deadly and most of all, incurable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;5) Attention. No, that is not a foot drill command though it yields as much power as it. This reason I personally feel that it is the stupidest and the most disgusting reason to ‘emo’. Notice that I used inverted commas, people who emo just to attract attention or make people care for them is utterly despicable and that it is not the true emo. Nothing much can be said about this other than it is even more despicable than robbing a blind beggar or perhaps sleeping with your best friend’s daughter or son for that matter. If anyone tries this don’t be fooled or be a victim of their lust for attention. How to differentiate? You can’t not if that person is a grade ‘A’ actor but if otherwise notice how depressed he is or if he laughs at your random jokes and for that spilt second he is happy but soon he goes back emo-ing. Or you could try to see whether he is putting in effort to emo, asking you to shut up or stuff like that. You can also see if he is emo if you try to establish contact but he shrugs you off. It is obvious he wants the attention. Ways to see if that person is emo really is a situational thing and kind of personal so if you think that guy is not pretending then you better give him some alone time.&lt;br /&gt;So that is practically the reasons of emo, summing everything up emo is definitely not an art, neither is an normal human emotion nor is it some fantastic ways of getting attention or acting cool but it is an result of the human mind. Knowing this, it can be safe to say that you can control oneself from emo-ing and thus stay happy. Remember emo is NOT a good thing. It irritates everyone and it outcasts yourself and turns you sunny day grey.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S No monkeys were harmed in this production.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang pullyourpantsup singing off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-4989473099436606719?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/4989473099436606719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=4989473099436606719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/4989473099436606719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/4989473099436606719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2007/07/emo-what-is-emo.html' title='Emo? What is emo?'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-6474947306241773311</id><published>2007-06-24T06:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T07:08:01.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its the day before tomorrow...</title><content type='html'>Ok! Now before I start anything or any crap I would first like to remind everybody. Yes EVERYBODY, that tomorrow is the day school starts...again. Yep. Hate to say but what the heck this isn't a charity show...Continuing this I would like to add inthat I am doing this while my internet keeps closing by itself so you really need to commend me on my effort...really. I would now continue with the 'news that should have been' section copyright from some sources as I personally think it expresses some view that are very pressing...So here it goes.&lt;br /&gt;2) Well, tomorrow was the day that school would inevitably restart and the students were angry and seriously pissed-off. I mean the holidays are here and now they are gone, well would you look at that! Any the students were feeling very suppressed and fearful that the repercussions of them not finishing their homework on time would lead them to utter doom. Because of this common understanding that they have they elected a leader and from there they work all night before school started. They went to school the earlier night and built garrisons all over the place especially the staff rooms and as a backup plan they filled up the lockers now instead of apples they did grapes, as learning from bio the surface to volume ratio would no doubt be more&lt;br /&gt;effective. armed with textbooks of all sizes the thicker the better they climbed to the highest stories and awaited the eminent arrival of the overlord teachers. Those teachers which came by form of footwear got pelted with erasers and laptops(from the IT club) some trigger-happy students let loose the tables which were kept for last resort purposes. Concussions galore the teachewrs responded by coming in heavily armoured Nissans and Toyotas, and the student let loose the tables which much sucess until they ran out. They were getting infiltrated the teachers were simnply too powerful in their weaapons of war. They deployed entered the building. As they entered the Plan B fell into immediate action and the textbooks were lit on fire (by scouts who can light anything on fire) and hurled at the teachers. This was effective until the teachers used the water coolers as suppressive fire and obliterated the students strike force. The students retreat into the container classroom but alas the retreat was short-lived as their leader waved the Student's Resistance Flag up high, boosting their morale. They then charged forth in a body wielding 30cm metal rulers as swords and curve rulers as whips and attacked the teachers. It was going fine until the teachers blasted the national anthem. The students were forced to halt and stand at attention while the teachers disarmed and destroyed them. It was over. However, since the teachers abused their power and moved duiring the anthem the SAF came in and arrested all of them for high treason and school was over for the year....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course this didn't happen but it should have dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S After this the school hired relief teachers and piled the students with homework they never dreamed of seeing and since they burned their textbooks they died. To make things worse, in the midst of their extinction the students did not have ,water coolers since the water was all used up by the teachers. To make matters worse, all of this happened whil the teachers ate grapes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang pullyourpantsup singing off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-6474947306241773311?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/6474947306241773311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=6474947306241773311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/6474947306241773311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/6474947306241773311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2007/06/its-day-before-tomorrow.html' title='Its the day before tomorrow...'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-4586269322983672365</id><published>2007-06-19T03:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T03:34:04.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whoo hoo the holidays are here! Or maybe not...</title><content type='html'>Yo Yo Yo! (and a bottle of rum) It's once again been a long while seen I last posted anything but still I don't really care. Ok, now lets see. I am typing whatever comes to my brain really so everything is kinda impromptu.&lt;br /&gt;Wait...Ok I think I shall continue with the 'some things which I find distressing'&lt;br /&gt;2) This is another thing which I find distressing the holidays! Where are they? Seriously, one moment you are at home slacking the other second you find yourself putting on your uniform! I mean (and I quote) What Is This? Students spent their whole life thinking about when the next holidays are but when they come they go. Even if someone was able to notice their holidays it would most likely be the last day already by the time they get enlightened. All the project works and assignments and the like all pile on we students like a mole making a hill on a mountain. I have no idea why but time seems to shorten as we come near the June area. Something like a time lapse. Perhaps it has something to do with earth's orbit round the Sun. Whatever it is, the Goverment know it and are abusing it and theres nothing we can do about it. Sigh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was 2D's class outing. It was pretty fun I suppose. I started out the day by being late which was great. Then I took a mrt to harbourfront and then got off at vivo. Went to the arcade spent $1.50 on some pilot game, saw ZJ and Melvin race their tokens away and Zenn getting thrashed by ZJ in racing. Then we proceeded all the way back to the mrt to meet the others. After some slipper stepping we got to the Cheers and went to eat breakfast. As we entered Macs we were looking at the tantalizing breakfast menus as the suddenly change it to the lunch menu.&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the days were spent in sentosa digging holes to reach water spouts, pushing people into the sea, revise WWE moves on Zenn, hurl sand balls at each other since theres no snowballs, capture a lizard and a crab and basically just dig holes. Maybe one or two people fell in but who cares we were long gone by the time that happened...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'I found out the only way to shorten time is to have a blast'- Lucifer with his Raven (Gun)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang pullyourpantsup singing off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-4586269322983672365?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/4586269322983672365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=4586269322983672365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/4586269322983672365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/4586269322983672365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2007/06/whoo-hoo-holidays-are-here-or-maybe-not.html' title='Whoo hoo the holidays are here! Or maybe not...'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-7629641077055817700</id><published>2007-05-23T06:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-23T06:21:49.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LOLZ</title><content type='html'>Bah. I have a bloody Chem test tomorrow and here I am pouring this crap out.&lt;br /&gt;Let's see, how do I begin?&lt;br /&gt;Ok, the level camp is over!!! Whoo! Woots! Or something to that context...&lt;br /&gt;Haiz. this week has been a tough one and I know it's reaching its worst. I have a feeling I won't really survive tomorrow so I felt it would be good if I actually....wait. Never mind. Nothing to write sia too tired...Argh&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhah! I know liao! I shall start writing about news that should have been!&lt;br /&gt;Ok first news:&lt;br /&gt;For the week before the June holidays, the teachers of Dunman high school drowned their perpetual students with torrents of group work project due within the week. Disgusted and unified, the students held a rally to strike against the school albeit with no sucess. After deciding they really had to be sucessful in their second attempt, the students started filling up the teacher's locker with harmless yet effective apples. This prevented any homework from going in and no one needed to hand in anything. It was flawless. Or so they thought. The projects were still due and the students desperate. It was their last chance and the school is shaking up it's defense. Suddenly out of the blue someone started construct a path from the train tracks to the container classrooms! Students seeing this is a ray of hope started frantically doing the same. People from scouts and etc. did the laborous shifting while the art club people started paint the path to make it look like a treain track. With the scouts brawn, IT's laptops, Art club's Paint, SJ's medical virgil and NP's rifle drill they completed the track. Just as the last concrete slab was planted the train came. Security guards on patrol were lost for words. The trains swerve and smashed into the container classrooms, ending school for the week. The students cheered and celebrated like their pants was on fire! Well, of course this did not happen but it should have...Damn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S For those who bother: Scouts have brawn does not means they do not have brain, IT helped by providing funds by selling their laptops, Art club slapped brown swervy lines which are a pathetic excuse for trains tracks, SJ sat in the shade in their fancy uniform drinking cola and don't even ask me about how the NPs helped in their rifle drill....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'When all seems taut, the taut seems like it needs all'-Zachriah&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang pullingyourpantsup singing off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-7629641077055817700?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7629641077055817700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=7629641077055817700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/7629641077055817700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/7629641077055817700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2007/05/lolz.html' title='LOLZ'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-7743915030446118739</id><published>2007-05-07T04:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T05:21:11.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch.</title><content type='html'>Haiz...It's been quite some time now since the last post and hell has there been a lot of stuff happening and, perhaps, NOT happening. For starters, my life has been a living nightmare. How so, all you curious and ignorant people may ask? Well, let me enlighten you. Before the weekend, we had only ONE thing to do which was, drum roll please, a all simple physics assignment. That was wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On thursday, our LA teacher told us we had to do a english essay followed by a letter. Now folks I have not even got to the exciting part so if you are already on the edge of your seat, then you should buy a new chair. Ok, carrying on, for a person of high callibre such as mine this would not be a too difficult task but then it came to CHEMISTRY. And EVERYONE knows what CHEMISTRY means, or perhaps not so let me take the ease of your brain by some simple math: CHEMISTRY+ME+DEADLINE (and i seriously mean dead)= GG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had an assignment to do (as usual) but not only that, we also had a extremly difficult, terrifying, jaw-dropping, repulsive and, last but not least, totally despicable topic otherwise known as ACIDS, BASES &amp;amp; SALTS!!!! Ok, maybe that had'nt much impact on you but heck it sure did for me. Now you must be thinking whats so bad about all these? Well, here it comes, the worst part. P.S Keep in mine all these is due on monday. Ok, as for the bad part. Note to all: I was freaking tired cause of who knows what subject (CHEMISTRY).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now as I was saying, I don't want to keep you all waiting. Commercial: Ops. paiseh wrong channel. *Ahem* Ok now its time, the climax, the prestige, the peak of all peaks, the moment you all been waitng for...bur: I had a chem test on wednesday the next next week, no time to study since there is level camp, got some freaky chem stuff I still needed to do, routine training on saturday taking away saturday leaving sunday to chiong everything, plus the fact that I had to redo my zuo wen, and a geog worksheet which I have no idea what it is, and got to pack bag for the level camp, iron the shirt with 6 buttons and finish it up with the fact that I am still tired.&lt;br /&gt;Damn, that was long. I'd give anyone who can say the whole chunk in one breath a Clorets FOC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the good old saying that is somewhat relevant to the top:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'For everything you put off to tomorrow which you could have done today, you could have put off yesterday's for tomorrow's yesterday.' -Lucifer&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S For those who wonder what GG means, imagine a situation where you are stark naked in front of the school kissing Zhi Kai. Thats basically it. Yeah. The Zhi Kai part is perhaps too graphic but what the heck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang pullupyourpants singing off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S Read my personal info for queries to my identity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-7743915030446118739?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7743915030446118739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=7743915030446118739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/7743915030446118739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/7743915030446118739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2007/05/ouch.html' title='Ouch.'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-3800743202830569441</id><published>2007-04-18T04:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T05:27:58.069-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confusion-ism</title><content type='html'>Muahahaha...I have been updating this goddamn blog for quite some time and hell am I proud of it! Just some minor issues here and there.&lt;br /&gt;Lets see, I found some things which I think are quite distressing:&lt;br /&gt;1) In the morning, as I was slotting my buttons in to my NEW, I must say again, NEW uniform, i realized that I lack 1 button. Now, this might not seem very 'distressing ' but it continues and gets worst. As I took the button from some other uniform, I realized I already had 5 buttons so I went to do my routine in the morning. Just as I buttoned my uniform I found out that I was not wearing the NEW shirt that I thought I wore. So I wore the uniform which I thought had 5 buttons when in fact had only 4 which the NEW uniform had since I put one the night before for some unknown reason. Getting confused? Ok, then I took out the 4 buttons and replaced the buttons back to the supossedly at first old uniform which was NEW and then realized I only had 3 buttons to put back from the old shirt which was weird. Then i realized my old 'NEW' uniform only had 4 buttons which meant that my shirt that had 5 buttons had in fact already 2 buttons. But if I took 1 button out from the NEW one should'nt I be left with 1? Instead I had 2 which meant that I put 3 the night before but I only put 1 there, meaning I should have 6 buttons instead of 5! Weird ain't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'What I thought is that the paradoxical paradigm should be reversible in context with the undefined property of the reverse paradox paradigm which is indeed a replica of the concertina shape of the paradigm giving the reverse paradox the undefined property in the first place, being a paradoxial reverse paradigm with undefinitive orbital, taking into accout of the value of infinty over infity minus 1, subbing the value of the cube of the consequentianal theory of reverse syncromatter and finally adding in the values of the tangent of the curve perplex and the convex vertex........We find that we get.....a circle?. Damn'-Lucifer&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nah the above is a whole load of crap lol...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang pullingyourpantsup singing off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-3800743202830569441?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/3800743202830569441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=3800743202830569441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/3800743202830569441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/3800743202830569441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2007/04/confusion-ism.html' title='Confusion-ism'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-4155845884043496095</id><published>2007-04-17T05:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T05:46:21.484-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If 'Sian' had a friend, it would be me...</title><content type='html'>Ok...lets see, where shall I start? Maybe i shall kick things off with a poem:&lt;br /&gt;If 'Sian' had a friend, it would be me,&lt;br /&gt;Break us up and I would be free&lt;br /&gt;free from homework, free from tests&lt;br /&gt;Free from projects and the maths&lt;br /&gt;I would be joyous and bounding&lt;br /&gt;my grades astounding&lt;br /&gt;com games would die off&lt;br /&gt;I am no more a sloth!&lt;br /&gt;But these never would be&lt;br /&gt;as 'Sian' has a friend, namely me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If 'Sian' had a friend, it would be me,&lt;br /&gt;Trouble with the Net and hamachi.&lt;br /&gt;My tests are consecutive, my failures are positive&lt;br /&gt;my mind is dormant, yet to awaken.&lt;br /&gt;Never to awaken&lt;br /&gt;Never to start&lt;br /&gt;As 'Sian' sticks to me, never apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If 'Sian' had a friend, it would be me,&lt;br /&gt;Never watch: You, Me &amp; Dupree&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to do, keeping it cool.&lt;br /&gt;Things start piling I start to drool.&lt;br /&gt;Stare at the mirror, I stare at my face.&lt;br /&gt;As the eyes wander to the things-to-do place.&lt;br /&gt;But even as time passes, it still does not cure,&lt;br /&gt;the boredom of sianess that grows more and more.&lt;br /&gt;So as I said, say again, a total of three,&lt;br /&gt;If 'Sian' had a friend, it would be me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'Boredom is only the factor of time that seems to stop.'-Strider &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang sianingyourpantsdown sianing off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-4155845884043496095?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/4155845884043496095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=4155845884043496095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/4155845884043496095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/4155845884043496095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2007/04/if-sian-had-friend-it-would-be-me.html' title='If &apos;Sian&apos; had a friend, it would be me...'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-7448361021722838793</id><published>2007-04-16T05:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T05:30:19.092-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ARGH! Peace pervaded by Chaos...</title><content type='html'>Skit:&lt;br /&gt;'Wah so shuang! Today no homework at all! Go home finally can slack!'- A&lt;br /&gt;'Slack your head! Must memorise the CHINESE script by tomorrow.'- B&lt;br /&gt;'******.....'- A&lt;br /&gt;'Don't forget tomorrow got Chem Prac test!'- C&lt;br /&gt;'But I got CCA......'- A&lt;br /&gt;'Oh and please don't forget about our geog project!'- D&lt;br /&gt;'ASDGFRFWDE....Whatever lah...' -A&lt;br /&gt;Thats basically my life...Just in case any of you wondered, I am the 'A' dude. Grrr....Screwed up week. No time to do anything. Just damn lethargic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'If you ever have the instance where you feel you do not have enough time, you must be slacking.'- Strider&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limming...yawn...xiang pullyour...yawn...down singing...ZZZ.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-7448361021722838793?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7448361021722838793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=7448361021722838793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/7448361021722838793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/7448361021722838793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2007/04/argh-peace-pervaded-by-chaos.html' title='ARGH! Peace pervaded by Chaos...'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-2959503048006436489</id><published>2007-04-12T06:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T07:14:25.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing is impossible, it's just highly improbable.</title><content type='html'>As I was deciding what to write, a sudden thought struck me: why shud I be writing my life into the blog when it is not really interesting lol? But heck, my life IS interesting. Well, thats from my perspective anyway.&lt;br /&gt;Ok...carrying on, today was a quite shitty day when I realized i had forgotten to bring the level camp form. For that I got scolded quite badly. But, as I have always said life goes on. And oh! There was NO chinese today....WHOOHOO! God bless queen Elizabeth! Haiz...Excluding all these trivial occurences there are more serious things popping up from the ground. These days are so different, so hectic yet calm that it has unnerved me to feel compelled to adapt myself to the bigger picture. Private stuff as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Some people say that people learn from experience. I can agree. Though how they learn from it; I am not sure...Do they adapt to the situation? Do they try to change the situation? Do they run from it every next time? No one can know. The complexity of the human mind can scramble even the most logical of sequencing....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'Emotions are the very fundamentals of our soul. Without it, we are without our soul. No living entity is without a soul, or without emotions. No matter how cold and hard the heart of one is, nothing has reached absolute zero, it can be melted...'-Strider&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am limmingxiang pullingyourpantsup singing off.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-2959503048006436489?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/2959503048006436489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=2959503048006436489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/2959503048006436489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/2959503048006436489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2007/04/nothing-is-impossible-its-just-highly.html' title='Nothing is impossible, it&apos;s just highly improbable.'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-7725741394833283507</id><published>2007-04-09T05:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T06:05:54.965-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HELLO! I AM BACK!</title><content type='html'>Wow, it's been a long time since a posted...Well, too bad. I guess i was getting bored. Ironic, since i am soo bored i decided to start this nonsensical posting again oh well.&lt;br /&gt;Well today was an excellent day in terms of measurement with the normal day...&lt;br /&gt;We started fo the day with 2 chinese periods! 2 periods! thats a whopping 1 hour of my life! Down the drain! Vamoose! Sayonara! You get my drift...I could have been doing a lot of other things in that one hour....&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, in the morning we had a dicussion on once again the all familiar topic of 'pants'. Since, Zhi jie and Shaun both wore size 30 and had their pants pulled down by yours truly...they decided that whoever wore size 30 had a certain disadvantage in any pullyourpantsdown competition. Oh yar and i got back my maths common test, i thought i got full marks, BUT NO! i only got a mere and pitiful ampount of 24.5 upon 35. Crud. I guess life goes on....&lt;br /&gt;Now for the chim part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For today i feel that anything with time passes on. Like the sediments beneath the flowing river. Though reluctant to move...it still has to move whether it likes it for not. Face it. Time waits for no man and no woman, for that matter. So just get over it. Any problem any kind of pithole can be overcome by the all powerful Time. It would sweep you along relentlessly.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'Time? Its the only thing I do not control. For its spendid and flawless design makes it impossible to control. Manipulate...maybe. But by thinking of a way to control time you already let time control you....'-Strider, the Lord of the universe&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang pullingyourpantsup singing off&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-7725741394833283507?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/7725741394833283507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=7725741394833283507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/7725741394833283507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/7725741394833283507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2007/04/hello-i-am-back.html' title='HELLO! I AM BACK!'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-115701597610074050</id><published>2006-08-31T02:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-31T02:19:36.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY TEACHER'S DAY!</title><content type='html'>Today is teacher's day and it was chaos. i tried to pull ming xiang's pants down but i failed. (Maybe it is impossible)Melvin was a moron, Zhi Jie was not smashing zenn head into the wall, i flipped zenn a couple of times, the average day. However, melvin's pencil box did not take flight as he did not bring his pencil box. I stole the food and hitched some of the seaweed. i ended the game by playing lan and , of course, holy shyting. It was a fruitful day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am limmingxiang pull your pants up singing off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-115701597610074050?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/115701597610074050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=115701597610074050' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/115701597610074050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/115701597610074050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2006/08/happy-teachers-day.html' title='HAPPY TEACHER&apos;S DAY!'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-115692628335222339</id><published>2006-08-30T01:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T01:26:05.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boo Yah....</title><content type='html'>yToday is excellent as it is the day where there is a chinese test. i cannot love chinese more than my pants but... yah...ahem... watever it is this is egsolen i flipped melvin's pencil box 4 times ( a bit less than usual) and hid all of yu ting's books. melvin tried doing the same while they slept but he ended up knocking jordan bottle over.&lt;br /&gt;the most exciting thing that happened was that we managed to see jin tao with his pants pulled up. at this type of sight no one would know wad to type... they can either shout 'so sexy', applaud or just scream 'bloody murder!' in this case i did all three but who cares... my pants was dropping all day. i am thus ashamed.With moses destroying the classroom and melvin's pencilbox flying all around, who wouldnt say our class was ,('NORMAL'), alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am limmingxiang pulling your pants up singing off....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-115692628335222339?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/115692628335222339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=115692628335222339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/115692628335222339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/115692628335222339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2006/08/boo-yah.html' title='Boo Yah....'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-115685151669827723</id><published>2006-08-29T04:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-29T04:38:36.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Errr.... Still very sian</title><content type='html'>I have no choice but to make another post as i think this is fun because&lt;br /&gt;1) it is an excuse to use the com&lt;br /&gt;2) i can listen to music&lt;br /&gt;3) it is an excuse to say that it is an excuse to use the com&lt;br /&gt;4) i like typing&lt;br /&gt;5) it is to use the com as an excuse&lt;br /&gt;6) it is utterly braindead&lt;br /&gt;7) it is excusable to use the com as it is an excuse&lt;br /&gt;8) it is much better than feeling sian&lt;br /&gt;9) *cant think of any more*&lt;br /&gt;10) You can waste time&lt;br /&gt;11) or you can make time waste&lt;br /&gt;12) or you can pull your pants higher&lt;br /&gt;13) or you can waste the time off&lt;br /&gt;14) other people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am limmingxiang pull ur pants up wearing away your brain capacity and making u lamer...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-115685151669827723?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/115685151669827723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=115685151669827723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/115685151669827723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/115685151669827723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2006/08/errr-still-very-sian.html' title='Errr.... Still very sian'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33527562.post-115684707432725102</id><published>2006-08-29T03:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-29T03:24:34.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sianz...</title><content type='html'>Today was sian... i feel sian... and i think i am sian...&lt;br /&gt;however, i think my pants is very high and i am thankful for that.&lt;br /&gt;anyone who has low pants ought to be shot in the pants when their sian.&lt;br /&gt;i am limmingxiang pulling your pants up singing off....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33527562-115684707432725102?l=pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/feeds/115684707432725102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33527562&amp;postID=115684707432725102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/115684707432725102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33527562/posts/default/115684707432725102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pullyourpantsdown.blogspot.com/2006/08/sianz.html' title='Sianz...'/><author><name>limmingxiangurpantssohighandsmackurface</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05866900714777390288</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
