<?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-1245787760292384722</id><updated>2011-04-22T12:20:16.806+08:00</updated><category term='Avril Lavigne. Anything But Ordinary'/><category term='Three hundred and twenty'/><category term='And then there was one...'/><category term='Masquerade. Hide your face so the world will never find you.'/><category term='My opinion of M-effin-J'/><category term='Tanya likes BOB&apos;S HAIR.'/><category term='Life sucks. And so do you.'/><category term='Here lies CSB&apos;s dreams of getting a GOLD in SYF &apos;07'/><title type='text'>This is how I disappear</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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>48</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1245787760292384722.post-8407052881194031355</id><published>2008-11-27T12:39:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T12:50:12.815+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cookies &amp; Cream!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, just wanted to show you guys pics of the BRAND NEW CONVERSE SHOES I got from peninsula plaza.&lt;/div&gt;I dunno why the qualities so bad but whatever. My new darlings were inspired by none other than the rock band BLACK SABBATH! YAY! The one on the left is cookie and the one on the right is cream =). FYI, they are the gay boyfriends of my other converse babies, Hikaru and Kaoru. One big happy family. I aim on having AT LEAST 7 pairs of converse shoes, one for each day of the week :D:D:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/SS4l98-hVSI/AAAAAAAAABc/PeaQVm7FKKg/s1600-h/converse-bs.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273193959968036130" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/SS4l98-hVSI/AAAAAAAAABc/PeaQVm7FKKg/s320/converse-bs.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/SS4l-B7GDHI/AAAAAAAAABk/Z_NvoW-fWOE/s1600-h/converse-side.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273193961295842418" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/SS4l-B7GDHI/AAAAAAAAABk/Z_NvoW-fWOE/s320/converse-side.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/SS4l-rv9PgI/AAAAAAAAABs/yNEAzTfs9kU/s1600-h/converse-blacksabbath.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273193972523417090" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/SS4l-rv9PgI/AAAAAAAAABs/yNEAzTfs9kU/s320/converse-blacksabbath.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-8407052881194031355?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/8407052881194031355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=8407052881194031355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/8407052881194031355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/8407052881194031355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2008/11/cookies-cream.html' title='Cookies &amp; Cream!!'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/SS4l98-hVSI/AAAAAAAAABc/PeaQVm7FKKg/s72-c/converse-bs.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1245787760292384722.post-2847978042540270213</id><published>2008-11-18T16:29:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T16:45:31.992+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Converse HEAVEN!</title><content type='html'>Just got cookie(my beloved laptop back).  He wouldn't work from tuesday cause of some crappy trojan horse that kept popping up...unwanted pics. Oh, the HORROR! What is the POINT of a bloody computer virus anyways, cause i tell you,it's not much fun when you're on the RECIEVING end of it. Tsk. Had to pay the nearby com repair shop 85 BUCKS to get him fixed. Thanks dad!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to peninsula plaza yesterday. I know. Its one of those horribly unsophisticated run-down shopping malls patronised by...er, the LOWER beings of our species and I wouldn't have considered stepping foot in it if I hadn't been forced to do so by my parents. Mum tempted me by promising to buy me a pair of Converse Sneakers. Honestly, how could I refuse? That woman knows all my weaknesses and USES it to lure me to go shopping. SHOCKINGLY, I didn't regret it one bit. There were shops with TONS of converse sneakers. I felt like I'd died and gone to sneaker heaven. Haiz...&lt;br /&gt;Saw a gorgeous MCR jacket. MUST BUY!!! But I'm broke.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-2847978042540270213?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/2847978042540270213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=2847978042540270213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/2847978042540270213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/2847978042540270213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2008/11/converse-heaven.html' title='Converse HEAVEN!'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-822826963725522044</id><published>2008-11-07T17:01:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T17:02:51.874+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dedicated specially to siwei!AHAHAHA!</title><content type='html'>You amuse me you stupid pig. And yes, even though you won't admit it, I KNOW YOU LOVE ME MORE THAN YOU LOVE......*coughcough*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-822826963725522044?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/822826963725522044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=822826963725522044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/822826963725522044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/822826963725522044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2008/11/dedicated-specially-to-siweiahahaha.html' title='Dedicated specially to siwei!AHAHAHA!'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-4625945444706504824</id><published>2008-11-03T13:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T13:15:38.382+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Dream</title><content type='html'>Just finished OP. Screwed it up big time. Surprise surprise. That's why I've been so worried. the whole year throught. Cause I just KNEW it would turn out like this. I know myself far too well to hope otherwise. Oh well, no use moping over what a fool I am right?&lt;br /&gt;I have Keane's Bad Dream on replay right now.&lt;br /&gt;"I wake up, it's a bad dream, no one on my side&lt;br /&gt;I was fighting, but I just feel too tired&lt;br /&gt;To be fighting, guess I'm not the fighting kind"&lt;br /&gt;Hah. How apt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-4625945444706504824?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/4625945444706504824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=4625945444706504824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/4625945444706504824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/4625945444706504824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2008/11/bad-dream.html' title='Bad Dream'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-8658667326422885208</id><published>2008-10-25T20:08:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T20:13:27.569+08:00</updated><title type='text'>NEVER TRUST FACEBOOK!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;OMGWTFFFFFF!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What's Your Mental Age?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Result: 43 Years Old&lt;br /&gt;Regardless of how old your body is, up in your head, you're paying mortgages and complaining about back pain. That's great that you're so mature, but remember: it's okay to cut loose and act young every once in a while. Do your wild side a favor and stay up past 10:00 one night this week. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/SQMM8Wp6OgI/AAAAAAAAAA8/pWBydc9dJo4/s1600-h/iStock_000001456361Small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261063020711918082" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 199px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/SQMM8Wp6OgI/AAAAAAAAAA8/pWBydc9dJo4/s320/iStock_000001456361Small.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That was from the likeness quiz on facebook.Please.Kill me now. I'll have you know that i DO stay up after 10 thankyouverymuch. And who on earth doesn't have back aches every once in a while. tsk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-8658667326422885208?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/8658667326422885208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=8658667326422885208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/8658667326422885208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/8658667326422885208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2008/10/never-trust-facebook.html' title='NEVER TRUST FACEBOOK!!'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/SQMM8Wp6OgI/AAAAAAAAAA8/pWBydc9dJo4/s72-c/iStock_000001456361Small.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1245787760292384722.post-5211419422832900496</id><published>2008-10-25T18:05:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T18:13:11.246+08:00</updated><title type='text'>All BLACK</title><content type='html'>Chorus:&lt;br /&gt;Take a look at my life, all black&lt;br /&gt;Take a look at my clothes, all black&lt;br /&gt;Like Johnny Cash, all black&lt;br /&gt;Like the Rolling Stones wanna paint it black&lt;br /&gt;Like The night that we met, all black&lt;br /&gt;Like The colour of your dress, all black&lt;br /&gt;Like The seats in my Cadillac, all black&lt;br /&gt;I used to see red, but now just all black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as I could remember I dreamed in black and white&lt;br /&gt;As I grew up and the sun went down I never felt more alright&lt;br /&gt;My mother she use to tell me...Son you better get to church&lt;br /&gt;And its a dark world and the people out there and you know its only getting worse&lt;br /&gt;Never been much for weddings or anniversaries but&lt;br /&gt;I go to a funeral if I'm invited any day of the week&lt;br /&gt;Some people say I sound strange some say I'm not right&lt;br /&gt;But I find beauty in this world every single night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat down at her table at the end of the night&lt;br /&gt;She was having black coffee and a cigarette, she wasn't wearing white&lt;br /&gt;She said, people tell me that I am strange that I am not right&lt;br /&gt;The only time I feel alright is in the dead of night&lt;br /&gt;I think I found the one for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;I remember feeling so alive&lt;br /&gt;The night I looked into her eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;Take a look at my life...(repeat 3x's)all black all black&lt;br /&gt;take a look at my life...(repeat 3x's)all black(repeat 4x's)&lt;br /&gt;-Good Charlotte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does this song remind you of someone? Ring any bells? Come on think! Make use of that one lonely brain cell of yours. That's Right! YOURS TRULY!&lt;br /&gt;wonder how long it took you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-5211419422832900496?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/5211419422832900496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=5211419422832900496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/5211419422832900496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/5211419422832900496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2008/10/all-black.html' title='All BLACK'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-8959822005089360003</id><published>2008-10-24T16:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T16:39:00.298+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it's time i fucking moved on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-8959822005089360003?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/8959822005089360003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=8959822005089360003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/8959822005089360003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/8959822005089360003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2008/10/its-time-i-fucking-moved-on.html' title=''/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-380084297056100500</id><published>2008-10-24T10:55:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T11:07:36.890+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you</title><content type='html'>I'm not very good with words. Or emotions. So I hope you realise that though I may not show it, I REALLY,REALLY do care. It's just a little hard to understand what you guys are going through. I mean, just sitting there, knowing from the moment I got my results that I made it, while watching 80 percent of the class sitting on edge, wondering when they'll know the outcome,it's just pretty hard to empathise. Don't get me wrong, I am SO glad I got promoted but, just seeing so many of you so depressed and not knowing what to say...I just hope you don't mistake it for indifference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now that we DO know the outcome, it's just gotten harder. You guys are a few of those who made my experience in this hell hole tolerable. And you're leaving. The worst part is that we all know some of you don't even DESERVE to get left behind. It's this school's system, and its HUNGER to push forward, as long as THEY don't have to pay the price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But like Steph said, if you have to cry, do it with your head up. Trust me, it's their loss. Not yours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-380084297056100500?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/380084297056100500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=380084297056100500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/380084297056100500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/380084297056100500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2008/10/cause-hardest-part-of-this-is-leaving.html' title='Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-5464748668494008615</id><published>2008-10-23T20:27:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-23T20:28:50.222+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My opinion of M-effin-J'/><title type='text'>At LEAST i got promoted.</title><content type='html'>Life sucks. And then you die.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I should be so lucky.&lt;br /&gt;-Jacob Black&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-5464748668494008615?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/5464748668494008615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=5464748668494008615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/5464748668494008615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/5464748668494008615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2008/10/at-least-i-got-promoted.html' title='At LEAST i got promoted.'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-6750202342321297911</id><published>2008-07-31T21:50:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T21:40:49.699+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Immature, emo post. Don't like, don't read</title><content type='html'>All my posts are immature anyways lah! I am a shallow fool. Ooh, America's next top model in ten minutes. What was I emo-ing about again? Oh yeah, MJ. SUCKS MAN!!nuff said. Everyone's like moved on and I'm still hung over TJ. Maybe it's just because my best four girlfriends are there. Like the ones I still bother to keep in touch with the most. Or the one's that bother to keep in touch with me. We are like the perfect couple! Only, there's 5 of us, not 2 o.0&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jas is the person I go to when I need encouragement. Jas, " I LOVE YOU STILL!MUACKS!&lt;333" .Its an insider thing. Don't bother. Naomi is there when I want to be all bimbotic. She's all "HI HONEY!" or "LOVE YA BABE" and stuff. Stupid rich kid. -_-" Xin Yi for the whole spiritual "trust in God" thing, which I really need right now. And Nandhini, the girl I can argue-sorry, I meant have intellectual debates- with at bitch with knowing she won't take offence. Nice person to be around when you want to vent out your anger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I come to MJ and it's like....???!!! Some are cool, but the rest. hmmmmm. ok lah. wtever. Only 2 yrs mah!(provided I don't retain. omg DDDIIIEE!!) Don't get me wrong, our class is like WAY cool and WAY bonded, but...it's like, friendship on a superficial level with most people. I don't need that. Some people just give me bad ..."vibes". I'm not saying anything against anyone in particular but ya'll don't care anyways so... Ok, if I don't make sense, forget it. I'm all messed up and life sucks and I just need to freaking rant.&lt;br /&gt;ANTM!! gtg.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-6750202342321297911?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/6750202342321297911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=6750202342321297911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/6750202342321297911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/6750202342321297911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2008/07/immature-emo-post-dont-like-dont-read.html' title='Immature, emo post. Don&apos;t like, don&apos;t read'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-7711305296284539501</id><published>2008-07-08T19:29:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T19:44:08.880+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The wonders of diction (and lack of it)</title><content type='html'>Ok, so I just happened to stumble upon this vid on youtube right, cause half my time spent on the net (which is ALOT. I would go all day if I could. heh. sounds wrong :p) is spent watching random vids on youtube. Yeah, the song is actually called "2 step" by Unk, but this girl took it and did her own "translation" of what it actually sounds like. Trust me, she's spot on. (okay, now I sound british) Warning: This vid contains a couple of seconds worth of like nc16 stuff, nothing too bad or anything, but its just meant to be funny. And if you're wondering about the whole George Bush thing, yeah, I don't get it either. If you can't hear over my background music (hey, I'm a Queen fan. Problem?) here's the link to the actual thing on youtube: &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=0LyoBF2gtoA"&gt;http://youtube.com/watch?v=0LyoBF2gtoA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0LyoBF2gtoA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0LyoBF2gtoA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's the original lyrics. Compare and contrast :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A 2 StepA 2 Step&lt;br /&gt;Now Gone An 2 Step [X4]&lt;br /&gt;Now Get Jiggy With It [X4]&lt;br /&gt;Now Gone An 2 Step&lt;br /&gt;Aye Watch Me 2 Step&lt;br /&gt;Now Can You 2 Step&lt;br /&gt;Like I 2 Step&lt;br /&gt;Watch Me Get Jiggy With It [X4]&lt;br /&gt;Gone 2 Step&lt;br /&gt;[Verse 1:]I Hit The Club Fresh&lt;br /&gt;My Stunner Shades On&lt;br /&gt;2 Stepping Getting Jiggy&lt;br /&gt;With My J's On&lt;br /&gt;Don't Get Your Steps Wrong&lt;br /&gt;Don't Try To Bite Mine&lt;br /&gt;2 Stepping Yea I'm Back&lt;br /&gt;Unk One More Time&lt;br /&gt;See We Going Form A Line&lt;br /&gt;And We Going Step It Right&lt;br /&gt;Now Step It To The LeftGirl You Know You Dynamite&lt;br /&gt;Now Have Some Good Times&lt;br /&gt;I See You Got It Right&lt;br /&gt;Beat My Wrist Ice&lt;br /&gt;Colder Than A Bud Light&lt;br /&gt;Now I'mma Take My Time&lt;br /&gt;Where The Gangsters At&lt;br /&gt;And You Can Still Post The Wall Nigga Holla Back&lt;br /&gt;Grey Goose And YakBlunt Filled With Kush&lt;br /&gt;I'm Getting Jiggy With It&lt;br /&gt;Smoking On That George Bush&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-7711305296284539501?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/7711305296284539501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=7711305296284539501' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/7711305296284539501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/7711305296284539501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2008/07/wonders-of-diction-and-lack-of-it.html' title='The wonders of diction (and lack of it)'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-4679816325671874231</id><published>2008-07-03T19:31:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T19:49:35.616+08:00</updated><title type='text'>All hail Torres =D</title><content type='html'>SPAIN WON!!!!!*sqeals* Was supporting them from the start. WAHAHAHA!!! Tanya is HAPPY! Ok, I'll admit, the main reason why I was supporting them is because I think Torres is one of the awesome-est strikers in the world. Which he is. But I was right to think so right. I mean, HE SCORED THE ONLY GOAL OF THE MATCH. Which also happened to be the goal that won them the championship. Or whatever u call it. Am no soccer expert. Won't pretend to know much about it either. What I DO know though, is that this is one of the HOTTEST things I've ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value=""&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mL3Z7adjBEo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tsk. Youtube quality not so good. But whatever. He's still hot:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-4679816325671874231?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/4679816325671874231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=4679816325671874231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/4679816325671874231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/4679816325671874231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2008/07/all-hail-torres-d.html' title='All hail Torres =D'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-4646613068542152263</id><published>2008-06-14T16:29:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T16:55:21.329+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pervy Indian Guy part 1</title><content type='html'>So today, I met up with Kai kai, Wen yi &amp;amp; Elithea at bedok mrt station( i was unfashionably late) to go to some Marine parade family day bullshit which was, well, bullshit. We couldn't find our way, and then had to walk for a freaking half hour to get from the bus stop to that big splash area(its somewhere in east coast I think). I have something to say. God must have put old people on earth to piss the hell out of me(no pun intended). I was supposed to ask this old lady whether she wanted a drink. She started demanding "What drink you gonna get me? WHAT DRINK YOU GONNA GET ME" Then the old hag dropped her umbrella. She didn't make a move to get it, so I helped her pick it up. She just took it. Like it was my GODDAMN DUTY to be her personal slave. Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the event was too bloody boring to talk about, including the crappy magic show performed by two, yet again, oldies. Need I say more? Oh, but the kids were cute. Not the whiny type I despise. The cute cooperative, angelic type. SO CUTTEEEE!!!Yeah, but throughout the damn program right, there was this weird looking indian worker staring at me most of the time. At first I didn't believe Steph when she went, " eh, theres this indian guy that's been staring at you for some time" And then she pinched my cheek and went "tanya, youre SO CUTE". She does that every 2 seconds.Stephanie enjoys physically assaulting me in any way possible. My cheeks are still stinging. Everybody else in my class just verbally teases me and has the decency to stop there. Steph has no boundaries. Idiot. Besides, I am not cute. I AM COOL!=) She's got it all wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, on with the story. Like after that right, everytime I turned around, I could see that creepy weirdo looking at me. I have this thing for attracting creepy, most importantly UGLY, indian men. Tsk. And people laugh when I say &lt;em&gt;I'm scared of indian men.&lt;/em&gt; Except my dad and relatvies of course.Seriously. Can you blame me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then as we were leaving right, Steph(yep. her again) went "tanyaaaa, aren't you gonna say goodbye to your boyfriend" The guys in my class what like WHO WHO(steph already informed the girls -_-.What she actually told them was that I have a "crush on the guy in the brown shirt" . Thanks alot steph.) and she told them. gee. Again, thanks steph. Seriously, I wouldn't mind if he was cute. But indian workers NEVER are. Yeah, then the guys started going "what's his name" "TANYAAAAAA" "waaaahhh". And then they proceeded to suggest names for him. Andy even acted like he wanted to go back and talk to the guy. Like, WHAT THE HELL FOR! I DO NOT need to be match made with creeps thank you very much.At least the girls' reaction wasn't so bad right. They just snickered. Evily.I wish I could have emptied the bag in my hands and dumped it on my head. Oh God. I am going to have NIGHTMARES about that guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, part 2 is about some &lt;em&gt;other&lt;/em&gt; pervy indian guy. Shall talk about it when I feel like it. Tsk. It's because I'm indian isn't it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-4646613068542152263?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/4646613068542152263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=4646613068542152263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/4646613068542152263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/4646613068542152263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2008/06/pervy-indian-guy-part-1.html' title='Pervy Indian Guy part 1'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-1335248021095006052</id><published>2008-06-10T11:14:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T11:24:46.016+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dude! I seriously need to update right?</title><content type='html'>Yeah, so...hi. Havn't updated in more than 6 months right..so... Jin and Shang Yu were talking about blogs last week when we met to watch a movie( yin xue and sandra already left) then they were talking about whether they still blog or not, so I decided to update.&lt;br /&gt; Ok, um....the MCR concert. Like, 6 mnths after it happened. It was freaking awesome, of course. Except for the whole lining up in the wrong queue for two hours cause the loser organisers didnt put any PROPER sized posters or anything up for us to KNOW. only this A4 sized paper in on top of the entrance. Like SURE, we could have spotted that even with approximately 100 people standing in front of us. hmph. there was a complaint abt the maroon 5 concert too. saw it in the papers. guess what. SAME fucking organisers. So yeah, after we realised (2 hrs later) that we were standing in the wrong queue, we spotted the right exit (which by the way, didn't have a friggin queue) and walked right in only to find that we were being blocked by giants who managed to get in WAY before us cause THEY KNEW WHERE THE RIGHT QUEUE WAS!!!!! pissed. so i had two stand on tiptoe the whole 90 minutes to get mere glimpses of the poeple I paid $97 to see. sucks right?&lt;br /&gt;But the MUSIC was PHENOMENAL. seriously. Totally worth $97 and more. Came out half deaf. heh. shall update about the remaining 6 months when i feel like it. Which is probably in another  6 mnths time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-1335248021095006052?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/1335248021095006052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=1335248021095006052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/1335248021095006052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/1335248021095006052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2008/06/dude-i-seriously-need-to-update-right.html' title='Dude! I seriously need to update right?'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-2365476305877261353</id><published>2007-12-04T14:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T14:09:36.142+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Post hiatus</title><content type='html'>I haven't blogged in like forever right. Nothing to say what...OOOH MCR'S COMING TO SINGAPORE!!! Bought the tix two days after its release. Kiasu. Tanisha told me it was selling fast so I panicked. Pfft. The tix are still on sale one month later. Wth. I mean COME ON, IT'S MCR! Isn't like the WHOLE WORLD totally in love with them or something? Nevermind. Even if they aren't I AM! Heard Frank was engaged. Old news. DAMN. damn squared. I'm depressed. I'm gonna remain single for life. OMGIJUSTREALISEDIT'STUESDAY!&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ONE MORE WEEK TO THE BEST FREAKING DAY OF MY LLLLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIFFFFEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;what am  going to wear?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-2365476305877261353?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/2365476305877261353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=2365476305877261353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/2365476305877261353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/2365476305877261353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/12/post-hiatus.html' title='Post hiatus'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-5459426655750266186</id><published>2007-09-30T19:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T19:28:45.556+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SNOWBOARDING!!!</title><content type='html'>I wanna go snowboarding dammit! Why doesn't Singapore have snow? Tsk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-5459426655750266186?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/5459426655750266186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=5459426655750266186' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/5459426655750266186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/5459426655750266186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/09/snowboarding.html' title='SNOWBOARDING!!!'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-5345026247113075893</id><published>2007-09-23T18:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T18:34:40.444+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't think of a title right now OKAY!!!</title><content type='html'>It's been how long since I've blogged? Two months, three months? Who cares. I am currently blogging just for the sake of bloody updating so don't expect anything interesting. What do I have to say.... my mind is black right now. bush! That's a swear word of mine by the way. random thoughts...ooh. had carl's junior after prelims. Tastes exactly like that double cheese turkey bacon burger in BK. Wasted my money. But it &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; as huge as they said it would be. Couldn't finish it at one go. I hardly ever can finish my food anyway. Do you know how sad that is?!?!? Being stick-thin sucks.&lt;br /&gt;But i was watching the Tyra show for the past week and she had all these fatsos on the show and was talking about how beautiful they were on the inside and all that cliche bull and looking at them made me feel good about myself. *cackles evilly* Okay I know I'm mean but seriously, I'd rather be as skinny as I am now than look like those people. Yucks.&lt;br /&gt;And then watching America's next top model(another tyra banks-related show) made me happy too cause those girls are as skinny as me!! Whoots. So it's not that bad looking like a bloody stick. Gonna try to put on weight anyway Okay i'm just bored so I had nothing better to blog about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-5345026247113075893?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/5345026247113075893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=5345026247113075893' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/5345026247113075893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/5345026247113075893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-cant-think-of-title-right-now-okay.html' title='I can&apos;t think of a title right now OKAY!!!'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-5798405585818902018</id><published>2007-07-25T18:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T18:34:35.911+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I must not tell lies.</title><content type='html'>Whoo! The coolest thing happened today. Grandpa(we're partners again by the way) pricked her finger trying to fix my chain back to my wallet and she showed me the blood on her finger. Then I think I went "use it to write 'I must not tell lies' on your hand!" You know, the Harry Potter thing. Guess what? SHE ACTUALLY DID IT! She wrote the statement on her hand using her own &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;BLOOD as INK&lt;/span&gt;! Like after writing a couple of letters she'd run out of blood, then she'd &lt;em&gt;squeeezzzeee&lt;/em&gt; her finger to make more blood appear and continued writing. Her index finger was BATHED in blood after that. HEEHEE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly don't know why I found it so amusing but I kept on laughing, even when Mdm Lum walked in. She saw me laughing and at first just glared at me, but when I didn't stop, she couldn't stand it any longer and went "why are you laughing so much?" Oops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the lesson when she left we told everyone about it and like, practically half the class came to look at her hand. Waha. So freaking cool. Everyone else was absolutely repulsed. I don't know why Jin and I were the only ones who seemed to find it amusing. That's why Varunna said that before this she couldn't understand why we chose to sit together cause we were always arguing, I quote, 'like husband and wife'. Today she said she understood cause we were both equally twisted in the head. =D I honestly think we are. I TOOK A PICTURE OF IT! I love it!&lt;br /&gt;urgh. &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;tomorrow's PE. just when i thought i'd get over it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-5798405585818902018?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/5798405585818902018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=5798405585818902018' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/5798405585818902018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/5798405585818902018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-must-not-tell-lies.html' title='I must not tell lies.'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-6466132650213422773</id><published>2007-07-12T16:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T16:49:02.010+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fate. grrr...</title><content type='html'>Hehee. Changed my song. It's now Bullet for my Valentine's "Tears don't fall". If you can't take heavy metal, turn the volume down. [duh!]But if you listen to Hawthorne heights(i know cat and sherilyn ng do) then these guys shouldn't be much of a problem. Speaking of cat and ng...I have &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; bad news. HE HAS A GIRLFRIIIIEEEENNNNDDDDD DAMMIT!!!!!! If you're not cathlin or sherilyn ng, ignore my previous statement. If you are, shut up and stop your evil cackling! Oooh! And he has earrings identical to mine!!! How hot is that?&lt;br /&gt;Nevermind. I still have FRANK IERO&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/RpXphITHt4I/AAAAAAAAAA0/dWoRgCYEf7c/s1600-h/th_1.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086228109557479298" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/RpXphITHt4I/AAAAAAAAAA0/dWoRgCYEf7c/s320/th_1.jpeg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; =D He's WAYYY cuter.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways. Congrats Cat on making &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;BAND MAJOR&lt;/span&gt;! WAAAH! SO PROUD OF YOU! And Samantha for becoming the new &lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;QM of Uniform&lt;/span&gt;!!! I thought Aquila would definitely be a leader. But it's cool. Less responsibility doesn't hurt anyone does it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random note: I hate relative velocity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-6466132650213422773?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/6466132650213422773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=6466132650213422773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/6466132650213422773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/6466132650213422773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/07/fate-grrr.html' title='Fate. grrr...'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/RpXphITHt4I/AAAAAAAAAA0/dWoRgCYEf7c/s72-c/th_1.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1245787760292384722.post-8224828756215592996</id><published>2007-06-28T19:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T19:14:17.392+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MCR obssessed. Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right. Just to clarify, two days fter I wrote the previous blogpost I decided to listen to an MCR song and I FELL IN LOVE WITH THEM AGAIN!!WHOOTS!It's like you know, sometimes in a relationship you get too close to the person so the both of you decide you need a break from each other for like, a couple of weeks. The only difference is mine only took a couple of days. I know. I sound crazy with the whole relationship thing right? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, I was checking out some FRANK IERO pics the other day, and I realised he's my DREAM guy :D WiTh the earrings, eyeliner and black nail polish and all that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/RoOXFWEG-mI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ILMI-CN6e1Y/s1600-h/emofringe.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081070922682006114" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/RoOXFWEG-mI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ILMI-CN6e1Y/s320/emofringe.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;-- Tell me, who can resist THAT! whoots. THERE'S MORE!! ENJOY!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/RoOXbWEG-oI/AAAAAAAAAAc/aN9F6lcx_w0/s1600-h/POPSICLES!.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081071300639128194" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/RoOXbWEG-oI/AAAAAAAAAAc/aN9F6lcx_w0/s320/POPSICLES!.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/RoOXbWEG-nI/AAAAAAAAAAU/kT1einJskFs/s1600-h/omg-ing.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081071300639128178" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/RoOXbWEG-nI/AAAAAAAAAAU/kT1einJskFs/s320/omg-ing.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/RoOX1WEG-qI/AAAAAAAAAAs/D73fHhNse-k/s1600-h/th_ICONATOR_88ae084a0babb26202a060d5bb.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081071747315727010" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/RoOX1WEG-qI/AAAAAAAAAAs/D73fHhNse-k/s320/th_ICONATOR_88ae084a0babb26202a060d5bb.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/RoOX1WEG-pI/AAAAAAAAAAk/xXP4CBgbt-M/s1600-h/sunglasses.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081071747315726994" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/RoOX1WEG-pI/AAAAAAAAAAk/xXP4CBgbt-M/s320/sunglasses.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-8224828756215592996?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/8224828756215592996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=8224828756215592996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/8224828756215592996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/8224828756215592996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/06/mcr-obssessed-again.html' title='MCR obssessed. Again'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_uqJ3PDAhf1g/RoOXFWEG-mI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ILMI-CN6e1Y/s72-c/emofringe.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1245787760292384722.post-4909808144798108722</id><published>2007-05-27T18:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T18:58:09.388+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MCR vs Linkin Park</title><content type='html'>Oh this is TRAGIC!!! I never thought it'd come to THIS!!!! Since Ive got minutes to midnight, I haven't listened to anything else. Once I tried switching to and mcr song but got bored halfway then went back to linkin park. Feel like a TRAITOR. Okay, that's just stupid. But, it's like, once something new comes up, I ditch the old. I have a tendency to do that. Do that even to PEOPLE sometimes. Sad.  Kinda feel like an ingrate to the very band whohelped me through the whole 'emo' period though. Trust me, I've been through hell and back this year, and these guys were the ones that kept me going.&lt;br /&gt;But, OMG! Every SINGLE song in Minutes to midnight is BEAUTIFUL. Not exaggerating here. The lyrics are just...well they blow you away. There are a couple, just TWO songs that I'm not very fond of, but that's just because of the music. The lyrics are still amazing. LP is more mature than MCR in terms of music. Maybe lyrics sometimes. I'm not obsessed with LP. But they've kinda neutralised my obsession for mcr. MCR's still my favourite band though. ooooh. the sorrow. I'll show you my favourite song from Minutes to Midnight :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;The Little Things Give You Away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Water creeps, through the windows, up the stairs&lt;br /&gt;Chilling rain, like an ocean everywhere&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;Don't wanna reach for me do you&lt;br /&gt;I mean nothin to you&lt;br /&gt;The little things give you away&lt;br /&gt;And now there will be no mistakin&lt;br /&gt;The levees are breakin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;All you've ever wanted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Was someone to truly look up to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;And six feet under water I Do&lt;/span&gt;[End Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;Hope decays, generations disappear&lt;br /&gt;Washed away, as a nation simply stares&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]Don't wanna reach for me do you&lt;br /&gt;I mean nothin to you&lt;br /&gt;The little things give you away&lt;br /&gt;But there will be no mistakin&lt;br /&gt;The levees are breakin&lt;br /&gt;All you've ever wanted&lt;br /&gt;Was someone to truly look up to you&lt;br /&gt;And six feet under water, I do&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-4909808144798108722?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/4909808144798108722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=4909808144798108722' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/4909808144798108722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/4909808144798108722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/05/mcr-vs-linkin-park.html' title='MCR vs Linkin Park'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-4467836281508770475</id><published>2007-05-22T19:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T19:18:44.883+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Minutes to Midnight</title><content type='html'>I really wanna buy Linkin Park's new album!!! I used to be almost as obessessed with them in primary school as I am now with MCR. Heehee!On the bus I was wondering whether I really should buy the album and then on tv they played the minutes to midnight advertistment. IT'S A SIGN!!! And I heard the music for this weeks' prison break advertistment and recognised chester bennington's voice( yes, I am THAT pro :D)So I decided to go listen to the song. It's really niceeeee!!!! Wahaha! Okay. I have nothing better to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-4467836281508770475?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/4467836281508770475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=4467836281508770475' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/4467836281508770475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/4467836281508770475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/05/minutes-to-midnight.html' title='Minutes to Midnight'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-6685135663877661556</id><published>2007-05-18T16:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T16:09:12.893+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My MP3!!!!</title><content type='html'>I was exceptionally happy today! You know why? CAUSE I FOUND MY MP3!!!!! My "mum" took it away cause I was listening to it while doing homework -_-" Dumbest reason ever. And she REFUSED to return even after she said that she would. So yesterday I was rummaging through my parents cupboards like crazy. They've got TONS of boxes with a GAZILLION things in them so I had to dig all the way down to the bottom of those huge boxes. Took me like, half an hour. I found out she has at LEAST 10 handbags. Like, what the hell for?!?! All you need is one bag to serve its friggin function!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after all that trouble, I just decided to open my mum's cosmetics drawer and my beautiful MP3 was just sitting on top staring at me innocently. URGH! At night I just plugged my earphones in and pressed play for THE FIRST TIME IN ONE WRETCHED MONTH!!! Then when the music flowed through (fall-out boy's bang the doldrums) I felt like my soul was at rest....oooh. HEEHEE!!!I sound like an avengeful ghost or something stupid like that. But yeah, I am absolutely NOTHING without my music. All I could think about for the past month was my mp3. AND NOW IT'S BAACCCKKK!!! I can listen to all the MCR I want. *big grin*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-6685135663877661556?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/6685135663877661556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=6685135663877661556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/6685135663877661556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/6685135663877661556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-mp3.html' title='My MP3!!!!'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-6567970610925437908</id><published>2007-05-07T13:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-07T13:31:52.782+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy dreams</title><content type='html'>Haiz...I just had this dream about an unknown blonde tom felton look alike and now my head is messed up. I hate it. Oooh. Screw you. Good charlotte's dance floor anthem is HOT man. Love it. I watched MCR's I'm not okay video again yesteday. Still makes me laugh like an idiot. Especially where Frank does this dumb chem experiment and DRINKS it!! Who could blame him? It looked a whole lot like lemonade. Probably was. But damn he looked cute with those goggles. And black nailpolish. I dig guys with black nailpolish. And eyeliner. And earrings. Urgh. Becoming like Bao Hui.Mikey had the whole asmathic geek thing going on. Adorable. Can't believe he's MARRIED!!!&lt;br /&gt;Stupid blonde.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-6567970610925437908?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/6567970610925437908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=6567970610925437908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/6567970610925437908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/6567970610925437908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/05/crazy-dreams.html' title='Crazy dreams'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-3641619803809274579</id><published>2007-04-14T19:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T22:50:19.351+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Here lies CSB&apos;s dreams of getting a GOLD in SYF &apos;07'/><title type='text'>Post-SYF</title><content type='html'>I tried studing chem today. It obviously didn't work cause I'm here blogging. I was just staring at the paper and all I could think about was BAND. Have you ever wondered, how different things would have been, would still be, if we had gotten that GOLD? It's heartbreaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So unlike the kind of underdog-ish stuff you see on tv. You know, like this loser (insert sport of choice) team gets thrashed by all the better teams then they a)finally decide to do better or b)get a good coach. Then they overcome all these obstacles and train hard and improve. They start defeated all the other teams and on the final match they're like, tied with the other team. Then at the last few seconds (OOOH. I'M LISTENING TO MY SOLO NOW. SO NICE! SO NICE! I can't get over it. SO NICE!!!) Um .. yah like I was SAYING, the camera will focus on the clock counting down the last few seconds, and everything will go slow-mo, and the hero will shoot the ball into the net and the underdogs win. Oh goody. Then they'll collect their well deserved &lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;GOLD&lt;/span&gt; trophy and hold it in the air and there'll be confetti all over the place and people will be crying &lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;TEARS OF JOY&lt;/span&gt;. Then the movie ends, the credits roll and everybody's happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to reality. (damn you my solo is nice. I love it. Mummy said it was nice too :D FOR ONCE!!!! *que the taylor hicks song " do I make you proud"*) Okay. Stop digressing. In real life, sometimes no matter how hard you work, no matter how much determination you have, you still don't get what you want. And what we wanted was that coveted &lt;span style="color:#ffcc66;"&gt;GOLD&lt;/span&gt;. It was just so unreal when he announced &lt;span style="color:#c0c0c0;"&gt;SILVER.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;So terribly, devastatingly unbelievable. We're much better off than the teams who moved from silver to C.O.P and stuff, but man, it hurts.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never would have though I'd be so into this whole BAND thing, but 4 years, 6 practices a week and 2 solos can change alot. I honestly owe ALOT to Mr Ong and ms sia. We all do. They refused to let anyone else play the solo even though I tried to get out of it at LEAST 3 times. If they didn't think I could do what I did two days ago, they would have let someone else play my precious Mikey. I know if sir had stayed I'd still be in third clar, and Hui min would have gotten those solos. And it wasn't ME who sounded nice in the recording. It was &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Mikey and Me&lt;/span&gt;. OOH. That sounds so nice. Terribly romantic. Damn it mikey I miss you like crazy. My PRT E 556123 Buffet Crampon RC Prestige E Flat Clarinet. Or just, mikey for short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MCR's Teenagers song is playing in my head. "&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;They're gonna rip up your heads, YOUR ASPIRATIONS TO SHREDS, ANOTHER COG IN THE MURDER MACHINE&lt;/span&gt;" Don't want to talk to anyone but bandmembers cause only they would understand what it feels like to have your dreams RIPPED INTO A MILLION LITTLE PIECES.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-3641619803809274579?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/3641619803809274579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=3641619803809274579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/3641619803809274579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/3641619803809274579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/04/post-syf.html' title='Post-SYF'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-6289847705836139111</id><published>2007-04-12T20:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T20:37:44.646+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SYF '07</title><content type='html'>Oh well. We did what we did and we did what we did well.(damn, I like that sentence. ALLITERATIONISM). I'm not going to let a bunch of cranky, stingy old men spoil my mood. Like what more could you expect from a group of 14-16 year olds?!?! Band might be a 24-7 thing for them but for us SCHOOL is a priority, band is a CO-CURRICULAR activity. If you were expecting proffesionals like yourselves out there, I'm sorry you didn't get it. Okay, I'm not one bit sorry. If it's one thing I learned from MCR, it's that we can only do our best, and leave the rest of the world to decide what they think of it. I'm sure our audience enjoyed it. I did.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;I know I cried after our performance cause I wasn't satisfied with my solo but, whatever. Maybe I set too high an expectation for myself. I knew that no matter how many times I had screwed up my solo before, this was my ONE LAST SHOT, the shot that MATTERED, to prove myself to everyone else, and more importantly, to myself. So I was expecting it to be PERFECT. Obviously, it was not. I guess, I was being a little too unrealistic. Shang Yu was right. I had set myself too high an expectation, and OBVIOUSLY, I failed to meet it. But oymygosh, MY SECTION. I honestly love them more than anything.(besides my e flat. MIKEY. LUVYA) They were all like comforting me and assuring me that I played fine. And I guess it wasn't all that bad after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there is one thing I did that I'm VERY VERY proud of. Or rather, one thing I didn't do. I didn't shake. I honestly cannot believe it. I didn't feel a single inkling of fear when I walked onto that stage. My throat didn't run dry, I looked straight at ms sia, and I played with confidence. The old me, the nervous wreck, would NEVER have managed that. This is why I've become so attached to my e lfat, mikey. He was with me through thick and thin, for better or worse...and all that crap. Heheeee! In love with a CLARINET. I shared some of the most important moments of my life with him :D He was a pART OF ME!! He watched me change from a nervous wreck who shook like anything even during band pracs, to the confident "debonair" who played with confidence during the most important competition. I am so, soooo, reluctant to give him off to someone else now. You have NO IDEA how much it hurts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-6289847705836139111?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/6289847705836139111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=6289847705836139111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/6289847705836139111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/6289847705836139111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/04/syf-07.html' title='SYF &apos;07'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-2339335670201058926</id><published>2007-04-08T18:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-08T18:33:42.588+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You're just a sad song, with nothing to say</title><content type='html'>Thursday was HORRIBLE. I came for band right after a maths remedial and they were at the sunrise part where there was the flute solo thingy right, so I tried playing my 3rd clar solo straight away witout warming up. But my b flat was so freaking screwed up that I couldn't play a single note properly, so ms sia gave the goddamn part to one of the sec threes. Ouch. The worst part? They sound better than me. WAY better than me. I mean, I have absolutely nothing against the sec three third clars. I love em all. LOADS. But its cause their sec threes. And I'm sec four. People expect me to be better. &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt; expect me to be better. It's just that all this while I thought I could be equally good at TWO instruments at the same time. Now I've gotten so used to playing the e flat that everytime i play the b flat it's like I'm wading chest deep through mud. Grrr. I find myself literally shaking from the attempt to hold notes for longer than 4 counts. It's pathetic really. Thursday was a rude awakening. A bloody punch in the face. I guess my mum was actually right about my trying to play so many instruments. "Jack of all trades, master of none"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, on the other hand, was great fun. Whoots. We went to the SCH to practise. After we performed, Cat and I went out, bought m&amp;ms and sneaked it into the concert hall. We were like barely halfway through the pack before we went bloody high. We were like, bitching about fat nurses, gay conductors, spastic birds, etc. You get the point. At one point paulina turned around and asked us if we were high on sugar. o.0 how the hell did she find out?! Probably smelled the chocolate. Then Cat asked me why I liked Sanjaya from american idol and I went "He's very sweet!!" gosh. Gillian turned around and gave me a look. That must have sounded wrong. Then cat smsed sherilyn ng and her were talking about dragging me into an ice-skating rink for a section outing. WTH?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I listened to songs from MCR's first album yesterday. My head refused to stop throbbing till an hour later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-2339335670201058926?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/2339335670201058926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=2339335670201058926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/2339335670201058926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/2339335670201058926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/04/youre-just-sad-song-with-nothing-to-say.html' title='You&apos;re just a sad song, with nothing to say'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-5463830349433416372</id><published>2007-03-31T14:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T14:27:13.535+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Speech day '07. GAH!</title><content type='html'>I'm am totally, completely and absolutely disgusted with myself. Seriously, what the freak is wrong with me!!! It's only a bloody solo. A bloody less-than-20-mothersneezing-second solo. So why the hell am I making such a big deal out of it?!?! I was shaking like nobody's business, my hair was all over the place, and worst of all, I WAS OFFBEAT. I mean, for pete's sake, I've been playing the damn part for more than FIVE MONTHS now. Things like playing offbeat,out of tune or sqeaking are totally inexscusable.&lt;br /&gt;I absolutely despise stupid people who do stupid things. Now I've become one of them.ARGH. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I ought to be shot&lt;/span&gt;. I am on the verge of swearing. And that is seriously a bad sign because I HATE swearing. It's just so uncivilised and low class. Proffesional snobs just don't DO swearing, know what I mean? Nevermind. I digress.&lt;br /&gt;Like, I was SAYING....oh forget it. I have happier things to talk about. Like after that disgusting incident, I went out with Sherilyn Ng, Emily and Pei ting to pastamania. And then we went to that place, where I finally bought The Book. Yes, THE BOOK! The most brilliant, fantastic book ever known to mankind(or at least in my opinion) is in MY hands. And I am currently staring at the three most beautiful words in the world, with the five most beautiful faces in the world right under it.&lt;br /&gt;I'm listening to Katherine Mcphee's Over it. Such a nice song. Reminds me of MIKEY everytime I hear it. Don't know why. How do you get over someone you don't even know. What's there to get over anyway? MIKEY!!! I LOVE YOOUUUU!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Oh. That.&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Mikey, people, that day all I did was stare at his picture for five minutes and you guys came back from chinese and were like "are you okay?" Can't you let a girl drool over a hottie in peace?!?! I was just staring at his pic while wishing I had fangs. Er..nevermind. Shall not elaborate on that point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-5463830349433416372?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/5463830349433416372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=5463830349433416372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/5463830349433416372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/5463830349433416372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/03/sppech-day-07-gah.html' title='Speech day &apos;07. GAH!'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-3529521624620443755</id><published>2007-03-28T18:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T18:43:57.296+08:00</updated><title type='text'>CLARINET SECTION RULES!!</title><content type='html'>Omigosh people! I LOVE MY SECTION TO BITS AND PIECES!!!! Thank you guys SO MUCH for the presents. They're absolutely brilliant. And best of all THEY'RE BLACK. A nice, cheerful BLACK! The bag, and the t-shirt and the wristband and the pencilcase. Thanks sherilyns! The brownies(actually I don't know what exactly they are) are DELICIOUS!!! You spent 7 hrs o something doing them right?You're the best sherilyns in the sherilyn-y world of sherilyns!!! WAHAHAHA! They haven't killed me yet. I think they might actually help me gain weight.WOOHOO! Thanks to the horrible black hotdog and sandra for the pencilcase and thanks to cat and yingying for the prezzie!!!! So touched. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only part of my birthday that was bad was that this was the tutor's last practice with us. Oh the TRAGEDY! Oh the SORROW! IT'S UNBEARABLE. He was the only tutor that paid enough attention to me. =pEach prac he'd be like "e flat,perfect" or "e flat, very good" and stuff like that, and he gave useful advice. Shang Yu said the only reason he's paying me so much attention is because he's a e flat-ter himself(ooh. i like that word) Cool. Then maybe he's biased TOWARDS me. I wish. So when he walked out of the band room for the very last time, I WAS ON THE VERGE OF TEARRSSSSS!!! Gawd! I'm becoming such a friggin girl. Spoilt my mood for the rest of the band prac. Mr ong didn't make it any better by extending our band prac by almost an hour. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I WANT MY TUTOR BACK&lt;/span&gt;!!!! He was honestly very good. Shang Yu thinks I'm desperate. WHATEVER LAR WOMAN!! I just like him. The end. WAAAAHHHHH! Shall go hug meow for consolation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-3529521624620443755?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/3529521624620443755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=3529521624620443755' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/3529521624620443755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/3529521624620443755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/03/clarinet-section-rules.html' title='CLARINET SECTION RULES!!'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-2841004751930198860</id><published>2007-03-25T20:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-25T20:24:29.208+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'M IN LOVE</title><content type='html'>OH MY GAWD!!! Everytime I see or listen to MCR, I fall head over heels in love with them all over again. This time is no different. I just watched the I Don't Love You video. MY GEE'S HAIR IS BLACK AGAIN!!! Heehee. Because he knows I love it that way. Okay. I shall keep on dreaming. Anyways, he was singing in his usual deliciously demented way. I absolutely LOVE the way he sings. It reflects the demented soul in me perfectly. And FRANKIE!! I love it when he flings his guitar. AND HE DID JUST THAT IN THIS VID TOOOO!!!! *squeals* And he looked so pretty. Pixie thinks he's pretty too :D MIKEY. OMG WHERE DO I START WITH MIKEY. He is undeniably the hottest thing ever right now. He looked DIVINE in that vid. His hair was kinda spiked up and stuff and...ARGH*drooling in progress* So jealous of alice simmons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRANDPA!!! I have a confession to make!!! I miss you quite terribly. WAAAHHH!!! No more singing MCR songs. No more wacking you on the head with a rolled up piece of paper. (Actually, pixie's kinda fun to wack too!) We never got a chance to make adjustments to our TanJin law. No more arg-ing about mummy. And no more fighting over who Mikey belongs to.(And for the 1000000th time, he's still mine)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the OTHER hand, no more inferiority complex. I used to feel like such an idiot sitting next to you. Now with pixie i'm like:&lt;br /&gt;did you just understand what she just said?!&lt;br /&gt;Pixie:No.&lt;br /&gt;Me: GREAT!!! ME NEITHER!!!&lt;br /&gt;WAHAHAH! It feels SO GOOD to have someone to share my dumbness with. Pixie, Luv u :D And I thought i wouldn't be able to physically abuse my new partner but I was wrong. She's wackable too!!! She started it okay!&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't ask fo a better partner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-2841004751930198860?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/2841004751930198860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=2841004751930198860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/2841004751930198860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/2841004751930198860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/03/im-in-love.html' title='I&apos;M IN LOVE'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-2863084573915489569</id><published>2007-03-21T18:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T18:39:18.543+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bouncy Red Tomato</title><content type='html'>Band on wednesday was pretty interesting. I came to for band after bio class and found out that we were playing Yiddish for Speech Day. So I'm gonna have to play my solo in front of a gazillion people I know this time. That's 10 times worse. God, help me. Anyways, Swee Jin was conducting us, and she was in a funny mood that day. Like the second time we played, Mrs Tan and Mr Ong were like trying to get us to play in a more lively way, so Swee Jin also was conducting all lively and stuff. Like she was bouncing up and down with her ponytail bobbing up and down and stuff. Her face was really red. She kinda made me think of a great Bouncy Tomato.&lt;br /&gt;And it just so happened that that thought entered my head right before my solo part. So when I was lpaying my solo I was looking at The Bouncy Red Tomato and was trying my hardest not to burst out laughing. Do you have any idea how embarassing it would have been if I had?!! So when I played the freaking solo I squeaked from the effort of trying not to laugh at The Bouncy Red Tomato. But after she heard me squeak, The Bouncy Red Tomato turned her Bouncy Red head and gave me a WHATTHESNEEZE??!?!! look. Which made iteven harder for me, producing yet another lovely squeak. Brilliant. And Si wei told me that when I was squeaking Mrs Tan was grinning. I don't know if it was because of my squeaks, or if she found my struggling to control myself funny, but she was apparently amused. Geeee. Stupid Tomato's fault.&lt;br /&gt;Then we had like 10 minutes tutoring with this jap dude and dudette. When they saw that my  E flat clarinet was an RC Prestige they were all WHOOOAAAA!!!! and fussing over it. The dude was like "very expensive!!" in his jap accent. Like dude! I know. $6000 isn't a small sum. Hoho. But my B flat clar isn't very cheap either. I think it's $4000 or something. WAHAHA! So cool.&lt;br /&gt;     When we went back to the band room, I got the hiccups. So when we were like falling out, the whole band was quiet then suddenly *HIC*.  GAWD!!! It was so embarassing. Sam and marcia burst out laughing and one of the leaders was like "stop laughing". ARGH!! Terrible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-2863084573915489569?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/2863084573915489569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=2863084573915489569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/2863084573915489569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/2863084573915489569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/03/bouncy-red-tomato.html' title='The Bouncy Red Tomato'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-971509609655698385</id><published>2007-03-15T19:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T19:47:10.046+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chem SPA TWO!!!</title><content type='html'>We had chem spa yesterday. Ms. chng was our examiner/invigilator/whtever. She's damn cute dude! She thought the prac ended at 1.45, so she let us off early. Then ms. begum came and told her that it actually ended at 2, so ms chng gave us 10 extra minutes. Hehee. And I didn't know wht to do during those 10 minutes cause i had finished everything so i started tossing my eraser round. It eventually grew tired of being thrown around and decided to throw itself on the floor. It rolled and rolled and styed there, like a bloody meter away from me. I stared at it with a WTH?!!! look and looked up only to realise that ms chng had been watching the whole "show".  Eek. Then I looked and my graph and realised i didn't like certain parts of the curve and wnted to change it. Didn't dare ask ms chng if i could pick the friggin eraser up. Hohoho. So whe she went to the next room I immediately dashed to it and grabbed it. DMT #2 LAUGHED at me. urgh. Piggies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Titoudao on tues was pretty good. I mean, i admit i was bored t parts, but other parts were either really hilarious or just...well captivating for lack of a better word. And ALL of them are BRILLIANT actors. Seriously.  At some prts i was actually convinced that the whole thing was real. Very, VERY good acting. I guess those actors just needed a real stage and a real chance to showcase their talents. Those boring comedy series thingos on chnnel five don't do them enough justice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-971509609655698385?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/971509609655698385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=971509609655698385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/971509609655698385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/971509609655698385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/03/chem-spa-two.html' title='Chem SPA TWO!!!'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-1833695504185316538</id><published>2007-03-10T11:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-11T19:06:42.672+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't afford to study</title><content type='html'>Yeesh. Nothing much happened this week. Except that I slept during bio remedial and si wei had to keep nudging me awake to take down notes. Hehee! Tahnks si wei. But it was kinda sad cause I was dreaming about STEVEN GERRARD!!! hohoho. Yes, I think he's cute. And yesterday during SS, grandpa giggled a "girly" giggle. I was so fascinated. 0_0 She's hardly ever girly. And Shang Yu, nearly puked after eating the choc cake we had during SEL cause it was so rich. Grandpa stuffed her chubby face with TWO slices cause the cake was nice.Thanks mr sng. =) Hohoho again. And yup. That would be it.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, my tuition teacher noticed I was kinda depressed during tuition. So I told her about the solo thing. Honestly. You want me to play my solo in front of RAFFLES and River valley high?! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU PEOPLE THINKING WHEN YOU SIGNED US UP?!?!?!!! And yesterday I told grandpa that I couldn't afford to study cause there was so much tv to watch and too little time. Oh dear. I need to get my priorities straight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-1833695504185316538?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/1833695504185316538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=1833695504185316538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/1833695504185316538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/1833695504185316538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/03/cant-afford-to-study.html' title='Can&apos;t afford to study'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-6015793486180265970</id><published>2007-03-05T16:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-05T17:03:27.992+08:00</updated><title type='text'>because nobody cares</title><content type='html'>I figured out something. I'm one of the LEAST popular in the class. And the section. Oh forget the section, how about the whole goddamn band. Am I that unlikable? Being emo is a goddamn curse. I just DON'T KNOW how to communicate with people. The whole anti-social thing didn't really bother me at first but now...This just sucks man. I don't know why I'm blogging about it. So dumb.&lt;br /&gt;And YOU!! Can you STOP bothering me. You're irritating.Probably the most boring guy on the planet. I hate boring people. Even your blog bores me to death. It's like someone writing a journal they have to hand up to the teacher the next day. Goody-effin-two shoes. I appreciate your words of advice, I know you mean well,thanks, but next time, tell it to someone who gives a damn. Give up MCR. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!!! Shut up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-6015793486180265970?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/6015793486180265970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=6015793486180265970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/6015793486180265970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/6015793486180265970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/03/because-nobody-cares.html' title='because nobody cares'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-1768709187840388880</id><published>2007-03-04T14:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-04T14:32:43.149+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='And then there was one...'/><title type='text'>That weirdo with pink highlights in her hair</title><content type='html'>Okay, actually its that weirdo with five colours in her hair( you know, the song from mcfly), but the wonderful miss lavinge only has PINK highlights in her hair, so I thought this titile is more apt. Nevermind shall talk about her later. But first, MAN U VS LIVERPOOL!!!!Guess what? WE WON!!! I went to gloria's house to watch the WHOLE match LIVE. Okay, fine. I slept at around the 75th min. But it was like almost 11 okay!!I usually knock out at 10. hehee. Honestly, nothing, not even prison break can stop me from sleeping sometimes. Cause it's my second favourite hobby. So no difference here. I think liverpool scored in the first half but it was like, an offside or something. I don't know. Too busy watching the assistant referee hopping around like a toad. =p&lt;br /&gt;Then my favourite player got an injury in the 70th++ minute and got substituted....it was all in ROO-INS. hehx. (Yes, I watch first edition. It's the only ESPN show they show on channel 5) I was so fascinated by the blood on his leg. And apparently the winning goal was scored after I dozed off and nobody had the DECENCY to wake me up and tell me. sheesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, on to the great avril lavigne. She sucks. No seriously. I watched her latest video Girlfriend. There was one reviewer who aptly described it as a cross between hannah montanah and gwen stefani. Not that I have anything against gwen stefani. Just avril lavigne trying to RAP like gwen stefani. Like GAWD! I know people change, but not THAT much!! It was like, she was the only sensible, decently dressed female with talent and she decided to chuck it all aside in exchange for a pair of mini-shorts, pink highlights in her hair and FISH NET STOCKINGS!! You know, i never thought i'd ever be able to put Avril lavigne and fish net stockings in one sentence, but there you go. She has joined the dark side. Like we didn't have enough sluts prancing around on tv half-naked already. GAWD! And I've seen her like going out with cleavage bearing, revealing dresses and stuff. GHASTLY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the song itself is bearable. Once you get over her annoying bratty voice, immature lyrics, and try imagining someone else singing the song, that is. I mean, I knew she turned girly but not Hilary duff girly! That's like, so yesterday. Haiz.. the only decent female left is Amy Lee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-1768709187840388880?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/1768709187840388880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=1768709187840388880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/1768709187840388880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/1768709187840388880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/03/that-weirdo-with-pink-highlights-in-her.html' title='That weirdo with pink highlights in her hair'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-1853097122880336572</id><published>2007-02-26T17:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T17:25:16.430+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Emo, so what?</title><content type='html'>I honestly am starting to get pissed off with this whole emo thing. I am not ACTING emo, I am not trying to be anyone else that I'm not just so you can call me emo. I'm just being me.Most of the time. If that's what you call emo then so be it. I just don't like being labelled. There is only one me and that's all you're ever going to get. I mean, I have a lot of characteristics that have so called "earned" me that title I know. Like my obsession with death,black, my being sadistic, annhilistic and me pulling my hair all over my face(by the way, the last one is a STEREOTYPE. The moment you're hair falls over your face you automatically qualify as an emo. -_-Pisses me off to no end)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, if I AM emo, SO WHAT? Seriously, we're humans too you know. Not freak shows. I mean BIMBOS are more socially excepted than EMOS. How riduculous is that?! One of us has more brain cells than five bimbos put together!! I mean, if you meet a bimbo you'll just be like, oh. she's bimbotic. The end. I, on the other hand now have had a handfull of people come up to me and say stuff like "tanya, are you trying to be emo?" or "tanya, can you stop being emo" RIDICULOUS! That's like, "tanya, can you stop being tanya"!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I burst out in tears today morning. I was already super depressed about yesterday during morning assembly, so I shoved my hair over my eyes so no one would see me crying. Then when I walked up to class this girl(shall not mention her name) saw my hair and went like "tany, are you trying to be emo" That did it. I felt like punching her face till...shall not elaborate. So I just stormed into the classroom and broke down. I couldn't take everything piling up on me like that. This just sucks. It seriously does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just so you know, the hair serves a goddamn purpose okay. As a security blanket. Trust me, it's been more helpful than YOU have been. So like it or not, IT STAYS! And I'll keep the fringe down just to piss you off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-1853097122880336572?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/1853097122880336572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=1853097122880336572' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/1853097122880336572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/1853097122880336572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/02/emo-so-what.html' title='Emo, so what?'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-4455431387245923799</id><published>2007-02-25T21:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T21:42:20.848+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank you for the venom-mum</title><content type='html'>Oh. It wasn't supposed to hurt this much. Somebody stop the tears. They just keep flowing. My eyes are weary from all the crying but the tears just keep coming. It hurst so bad. I can't believe you said that. I finally open up to you and tell you what I'm going through and you turn around and MOCK me. And you still have the AUDACITY to ask me why I never tell you what happens in school. Do you have your answer now? Because I'm afraid of getting hurt. By my own mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, this solo might seem like a small thing to you but it definitely isn't to me. It's the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. For someone who's been used to only being next to the spotlight for so long, being thrust into it all of a sudden is not easy for me. Not one bit. I finally pluck up the courage to tell you I'm scared. To get some encouragement. And you turn around and call me a loser. Those were the exact words you used. I'm not going to forget it for a very long time. And you go and complain to my father about how I'm afraid to play just one line alone. You wouldn't know. You've never been thorough it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I asked for today is your understanding. That at least even if you don't like the way I am, how afraid I am of doing this..at least don't rub it in. All I got in return was more sarcasm. You laughed in my face. I don't mind you talking, or yelling rather, ranting on about how my teachers must hate to have a student like me, how my marks disgust you so much. I'm used to it. No, the punching didn't hurt much either. It just stung for a couple of minutes. But that comment on my solo was what did it. Now the tears refuse to stop. It hurts. Bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-4455431387245923799?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/4455431387245923799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=4455431387245923799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/4455431387245923799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/4455431387245923799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/02/thank-you-for-venom-mum.html' title='Thank you for the venom-mum'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-8670107965854708310</id><published>2007-02-25T13:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T14:02:11.894+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Three hundred and twenty'/><title type='text'>Band exchange prog @TK</title><content type='html'>HAH! I DID IT!!! I managed to do what I thought I'd never be able to do my whole life. I played my solos in front of at least 3 other bands(TKGS main band + sec ones i think, St nicks and Fairfield). And there were like, 80 people in each band. and 80 times 4 is a grand total of 320 PEOPLE!!!Let me spell that out for you. Three hundred and twenty.  &lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Three hundred and twenty.&lt;/span&gt; OOOH! I could say that a thousand times and not get sick of saying it. &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Three hundred and twenty.&lt;/span&gt;  Not including teachers and other adults around. Three hundred and friggin twenty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I was shaking like I had fits the first time round. But that didn't affect my sound. Everybody said I sounded normal. Charmaine didn't even notice that I was shaking. That's good news. Meaning most of the other people in the other bands didn't either. The second time round I was shaking just a little. I'm so proud of myself!! Seriously, you have NO idea how much this solo thing is bugging me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, just the night before I dreamt that I had gone to see a therapist and he gave me these anti-depressants. And on the label it said: reduces anxiety. HAH! I honestl think I need them.I was like asking the doctor if it could last me up till April(cause that's when SYF takes place). See, it's affecting me so badly I have nightmares about it. But I think I can make it.  I CAN play. Just not in front of a crowd. I mean, a crowd that's more than &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Three hundred and twenty&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Heh!My new lucky number.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-8670107965854708310?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/8670107965854708310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=8670107965854708310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/8670107965854708310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/8670107965854708310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/02/band-exchange-prog-tk.html' title='Band exchange prog @TK'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-2863033803487667380</id><published>2007-02-19T11:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-19T11:51:10.133+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tanya likes BOB&apos;S HAIR.'/><title type='text'>Can you believe it? I'M HAPPY!</title><content type='html'>HEHEEE! For the first time this entire year, I have woken up a happy person. The reason can be summed up in one word:MCR!!!Okay, that's three words rolled into one. See, I was staying overnight in my friends house right(she has SCV.*sulks*). And when we woke up, I was like, will they be showing an MCR vid on MTV right now? We switched on the tv and HALLELUJAH!!!FAMOUS LAST WORDS!!! Gerard is the cutest mental case on the planet! Frank was so adorable when he decided to just sit there and pant*drools*. And Bob should be herbal essence's new spokesperson. He has the nicest GOLDEN BROWN hair on the planet. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Accentuated by the flames roaring behing him&lt;/span&gt;. *drools again*. Mikey and Ray were jamming away like nobody's business. WAHAHA! So now I'm HAPPY! Okay lame.&lt;br /&gt;Then I was like, I wanna watch Fall Out Boy's this ain't a scene. Waddaya noe. Two vids later THEY SHOW IT!!! My friend was like, wow. this is your lucky day. YES IT IS!!! Patrick stump was SOOOO CUTE!!!The cutest nerd in the whole wide world. Besides mikey.&lt;br /&gt;OOh! Berenice! You're volcano joke is now stuck in my head. Now everytime I see the word love i think of it as lava. Cause that day berenice told me the joke and went like "Tanya, do you lava me?" I told her no and she still was like even though you're denying it I know you lava me. Lame-o man! Which is sad. Cause you have emo potential.&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to me CAT. I swear, she's as suicidal and emo as I am! She spends most of her time on the window ledge, just itting there 8 storeys above gorund. It freaks me out man! I mean, one wrong move and I'd have lost the only living thing in the whole world that I actually love and care about. Then yesterday I spent like 10 minutes looking for her and finally found her in a very dark corner of the room hidden by a table cloth. Hehee. We both prefer the dark. So cool.&lt;br /&gt;I forgot to mention what happened after CNY on fri. I went to PS( i was dropping my mum's friend off there. She's from canada). Then I met Bao hui and Sandra. Bao hui was picking up the yuckiest kinda t-shirts and poor sandra was like tagging along. heheee. Bao hui kept telling me "tanya, you have to trust my taste" and all the kinda crap. WOMAN! How can I trust someone who wears t-shirts with SLURPING APES on them?! And Bao hui dropped her sun flower (she put it in her POCKET) and then kept whining. Like wth! Your fault right!!Crazy nut. Aka my ex-best friend. Okay..don't feel like typing anymore. I'm bored....MCR RULES!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-2863033803487667380?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/2863033803487667380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=2863033803487667380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/2863033803487667380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/2863033803487667380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/02/can-you-belive-it-im-happy.html' title='Can you believe it? I&apos;M HAPPY!'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-281949926263759977</id><published>2007-02-17T15:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-17T16:01:34.583+08:00</updated><title type='text'>So much for friendship</title><content type='html'>oh HAHA to you too. If you don't want to believe me GO AHEAD. Just twist my words to suit yourself. So you can run to all your little friends and act all pathetic and get their sympathy. And of course, they'll willingly take it all in without bothering to find out my side of the story. Other peoples' insensitivity is not worth it. Of COURSE not. You want insensitive YOU GOT IT.&lt;br /&gt;And yes I think you're blowing it out of proportion, as usual. You're always like "look, that girl is laughing at me" or "she went and complained to her friend about me so now her friend is also looking at me like that" Funny, you manage to spot things that no one else can.&lt;br /&gt;Newflash: The world does not revolve around you. I have a right to befriend others. I have a right to TALK to others. And I have a right to smile and laugh with someone who isn't you. I never complain when you're talking or laughing with someone else. When you wanted to sit with aqila on the bus that day I was fine with it. I didn't run to someone else and start complaining "oh BOOHOO she's leaving me out" Cause I'm not that petty.&lt;br /&gt;If you refuse to see that I am trying then fine. I might as well not try at all. Cause all my efforts will be gone to waste. No I don't appreciate this friendship that's why I've stuck with you for 3 and a half years. And I've always been the middle man for all of your disputes. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;YOU&lt;/span&gt; and GV. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;YOU&lt;/span&gt; and baohui. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;YOU &lt;/span&gt;and swee jin. And now &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;YOU&lt;/span&gt; and me. Let's play spot the common factor shall we? I'll give you a hint: IT'S NOT ME! I'm not saying it's entirely your fault. But it isn't mine either. So don't you DARE go around telling people it is.&lt;br /&gt;You have a problem SAY IT TO MY FACE. Don't go running to your juniors and tell them how horrible a friend I've been because I AM NOT. It's up to you if you want to believe me or carry on twisting my words to make me seem like the bad guy. Why do you need me anyway when you've got them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Let's go back to the start like it use to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Before you fell apart and you blamed it on me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Back when you were my friend,do you remember back then&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;All the plans that we made, can we get back to those days?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Those days come every now and again no way I feel like this is the end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Dope. Always&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-281949926263759977?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/281949926263759977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=281949926263759977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/281949926263759977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/281949926263759977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/02/so-much-for-friendship.html' title='So much for friendship'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-8383739483834102321</id><published>2007-02-17T10:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-17T11:00:27.684+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Masquerade. Hide your face so the world will never find you.'/><title type='text'>Welcome to my Masquerade</title><content type='html'>If this is what it feels like to be emo then I don't want to be emo anymore. Shoving my hair in front of my face so the world won't see me and I can't see it. Turning my mp3 on to full blast so I can't hear what goes on in the world around me. Having darkness and sorrow as your best friends isn't much fun.I hate waking up depressed, with tears inmy eyes everyday. And to constantly think about hurting or even killing yourself only to find that you're too afraid to do it...afraid of the consequences. But see, that's the silver lining in my very big, dark cloud. I still believe that there are consequences to face if I do something like that. Meaning I still belive in heaven and hell. So a part of me still belives in God. God..can you not see that I NEED you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went down to NTUC to buy something today. When I came back I saw Jessie waiting for me on the steps.MEOW! Yes angel, I love you too. Then I saw Sree's letter in my file. Thanking me for helping her feel at home. And wanchen's v-day present. She took the trouble of buying it for me(how'd you know I only like dark chocolate?), wrapping it up, writing a note and leaving it on my table. Even though I'm not her senior anymore, and she didn't have to even talk to me anymore. It's nice to know at least two or three people think you're worth their time. Two or three is a small number, I know. But three's a crowd. Right?&lt;br /&gt;I always used to think those lines about faking a smile or wearing a mask, or those lines about facades were all so cliche. Now, I realise how true they are. Cause that's exactly what I'm doing every single day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-8383739483834102321?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/8383739483834102321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=8383739483834102321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/8383739483834102321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/8383739483834102321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/02/welcome-to-my-masquerade.html' title='Welcome to my Masquerade'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-2961354015170935129</id><published>2007-02-16T18:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T19:16:30.204+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Life sucks. And so do you.'/><title type='text'>Confessions of a social outcast</title><content type='html'>Couldn't find a better title. Problem? I hate you. ALL of you. Thanks for making me feel unwanted. Great feeling. Makes you feel all effin warm and fuzzy inside. But YOU wouldn't know would you? Probably been popular your whole lives. Yes, I am talking to more than one person. A whole lot more than one person. I know I should be used to feeling ignored and redundant by now. Maybe I am. But that doesn't mean I have to like it. Have you ever wondered WHY I don't talk to you? No, you wouldn't have bothered, so I'll save you the trouble by telling you. It's because I don't know how. I know I'm not the most sociable person, but that's just who I am. I can't communicate well. I can't express myself well. Believe me, if I could I would.&lt;br /&gt;And YOU. Just because you don't like me..us...doesn't mean you have to make it THAT obvious. Given your age and who you CLAIM to be. I'm not very fond of you either, but I just don't like knowing that someone doesn't think very much of me. At least have the decency to PRETEND that you're okay with me even if you don't want to have anything to do with me. It's gonna be less than a year anyway. Then I'm out of here. I'll be thrust into another place. Only to be rejected again. Joy.&lt;br /&gt;Who says vampires will never hurt you? I beg to differ. It's the only statement from MCR I disagree with. If there's a God out there, I thank Him for MCR everyday. Cause it's nice to know that you're not the only one going through this. That even your heroes were once zeros. Rejected,dejected and on the verge of killing themselves. Maybe one day, I'll be able to make somethingof myself, just like you guys did. Till then, I've still got your songs to let me know that everything's gonna be all right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My chemical romance. Teenagers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Because the drugs never work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;They're gonna give you a smirk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;'Cause they got methods of keeping you clean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;They're gonna rip up your heads,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Your aspirations to shreds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Another cog in the murder machine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;...The boys and girls in the clique&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;'The awful names that they stick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;You're never gonna fit in much, kid&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Yeah. I know. But thanks anyway...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-2961354015170935129?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/2961354015170935129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=2961354015170935129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/2961354015170935129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/2961354015170935129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/02/confessions-of-social-outcast.html' title='Confessions of a social outcast'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-7289052720537089923</id><published>2007-02-14T17:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T17:56:09.466+08:00</updated><title type='text'>V-day</title><content type='html'>So today was v-day...big deal. I seriously don't get it. It's called VALENTINE'S day not BEST FRIENDS day. Yeesh.Urgh. Whatever.  And honestly I think I have more modd swings than a pregnant lady. I was like happy for half the day then depressed for the dumbest reason during sectionals. I was worse yesterday. OOOH! Shall tell you what happened yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;  I was feeling down for absolutely no reason at all. So when I'm depressed I'll just shove my hair in front of my eyes. I was walking like that towards the bio lab, and Mrs. Foo was walking in my direction and she came up to me and went " I can' see half your face". Then she tried imitating me by pushing her hair onto her face as well.(quite cute actually) Everyone else seemed to find it highly amusing. The during chem Ms Begum glanced over at me and said " Tanya! What happened to your hair" Then said something about me looking as though I felt like life was frustrating. Not very far off from the truth. Berenice and charis started calling me emo kid. FFFFascinating.&lt;br /&gt; Today morning was great though. During morning assembly grandpa said that my solo yesterday was very nice and 5 mins later si wei said the same thing. And Shang Yu wrote in my postcard it was nice. YAY! I'm IMPROVING!!!! Mr. Ong, thanks for having faith in me. I'll prove to the world that you made the right choice for solo-ist.You rock !!!:D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-7289052720537089923?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/7289052720537089923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=7289052720537089923' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/7289052720537089923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/7289052720537089923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/02/v-day.html' title='V-day'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-8518643753201256787</id><published>2007-02-08T19:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T17:43:01.540+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Empty spaces fill me up with holes</title><content type='html'>Okay, not a big backstreet boys fan but I couldn't resist using that line as my title. See, this whole I-believe-in-God-but-I-don't thing is getting a whole lot more complicated than I thought it would be. It's like, been a part of me my ENTIRE life, and then suddenly this tiny doubt pops into my head and wrecks everything. Like you're building a grand castle out of a deck of cards and a tiny gust of wind is all it takes for all those cards to topple down into a messy heap. No, you are not back to square one. It's more like square zero, cause you have to retrive all the cards, check that none are missing, stack them up neatly AND THEN try building your castle all over again.&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I had a problem, I'd just be like, God, what did I do wrong? Can you help me fix it? And now everytime I have a problem (funny, after the whole I don't really believe in God thing the problems just keep coming and refuse to go away) I'll feel like talking to God, but a voice in my head goes "what God?"&lt;br /&gt;OOOH!!! SITUATIONAL IRONY! or whatever you call it. I'm listening to Robbie williams' FEEL and he's singing "I sit and talk to God, and He just laughs at my plans" Haiz....&lt;br /&gt;I feel so EMPTY! It's like losing part of myself...more than that...ARGH! I don't know how to describe and I shall stop trying to before I tear up.&lt;br /&gt;SITUATIONAL IRONY AGAIN! or is it another type of irony? Nevermind. Robbie williams is going "&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;there's a hole in my soul, you can see it in my face, it's a real big place&lt;/span&gt;" There you go. It's something like that. Maybe. whatever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-8518643753201256787?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/8518643753201256787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=8518643753201256787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/8518643753201256787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/8518643753201256787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/02/empty-spaces-fill-me-up-with-holes.html' title='Empty spaces fill me up with holes'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-5117067433562894781</id><published>2007-02-07T07:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T07:51:05.188+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flu part 2(hehx)lame</title><content type='html'>I can't believe I'm saying this but I WANNA GO BACK TO SCHOOL! I have absolutely nothing to do at home which is why I 'm blogging at 7.45 in the morning. Yeesh. Hoho, at least I get to spend some extra time with my baby angel. Right now the little furball is curled up on my parents bed behind me staring at the floor. She's as bored as I am. meowness.&lt;br /&gt; Swee Jin, I'm sorry for leaving you partnerless for two days. Hehx. I KNOW you miss me. You don't have to tell me that you do. I miss my friends. Gosh it's only been two days. I sound like a wimp. Honestly, I wish I could go to school but just getting out of bed this morning made me dizzy. GAH! I'm fine now. shall go to school tomorrow. I know I'm missing the sec 1 welcome party but who cares. Si wei told me theres only gonna potato chips and soft drinks. Sheesh.&lt;br /&gt;ARGH! I'm gonna go back to school to find at least 3 test papers waiting for me to do them. Or was it 4. Who cares? I'm screwed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-5117067433562894781?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/5117067433562894781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=5117067433562894781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/5117067433562894781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/5117067433562894781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/02/flu-part-2hehxlame.html' title='Flu part 2(hehx)lame'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-6515236381045554217</id><published>2007-02-06T08:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T08:54:24.907+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flu!!</title><content type='html'>Me has FLU!!! And a terrible headache and etc. so I did not go to school today. Terrible. Have absolutely nothing to do at home. Hiaz....I have no more prison break to look forward to on thursdays either. sadness. I love my new blogskin!! Took me at least three hours to modify it. Feel like a pro :p&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-6515236381045554217?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/6515236381045554217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=6515236381045554217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/6515236381045554217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/6515236381045554217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/02/flu.html' title='Flu!!'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-960580021017605929</id><published>2007-02-03T20:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-03T20:29:41.880+08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Avril Lavigne. Anything But Ordinary'/><title type='text'>Anything but ordinary</title><content type='html'>Is it enough to love?&lt;br /&gt;Is it enough to breathe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Somebody rip my heart out&lt;br /&gt;And leave me here to bleed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it enough to die?&lt;br /&gt;Somebody save my life&lt;br /&gt;I'd rather be anything but ordinary please&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To walk within the lines&lt;br /&gt;Would make my life so boring&lt;br /&gt;I want to know that I have been to the extreme&lt;br /&gt;So knock me off my feet&lt;br /&gt;Come on now give it to me&lt;br /&gt;Anything to make me feel alive&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-960580021017605929?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/960580021017605929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=960580021017605929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/960580021017605929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/960580021017605929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/02/anything-but-ordinary.html' title='Anything but ordinary'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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-1245787760292384722.post-1271087532422383916</id><published>2007-02-03T20:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-03T20:24:40.891+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Me.</title><content type='html'>Frivolous. Cowardly. Heartless. I'm everything you'd never want to be. And a whole lot less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I was there on the day they sold the cause for the Queen&lt;br /&gt;And when the lights all went out, we watched our lives on the screen&lt;br /&gt;I hate the ending myself, but it started with an alright scene.&lt;br /&gt;It was the roar of the crowd that gave me heartache to sing&lt;br /&gt;It was a lie when they smiled and said you won't feel a thing&lt;br /&gt;~My Chemical Romance. Disenchanted&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1245787760292384722-1271087532422383916?l=whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/feeds/1271087532422383916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1245787760292384722&amp;postID=1271087532422383916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/1271087532422383916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1245787760292384722/posts/default/1271087532422383916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whenbothourcars-collide.blogspot.com/2007/02/me.html' title='Me.'/><author><name>Emopunk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14689909253675713444</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>
