<?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-10365863</id><updated>2011-04-22T03:09:32.984+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is this a blog?</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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>506</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10365863.post-2098681226227284079</id><published>2008-04-17T06:16:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T06:22:36.560+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time to close down! \o/</title><content type='html'>Really. When a blog becomes a public announcement area for people (usually for ranting, no less), that's when it's time to close it down. Got no more time for this anyway. I can still be contacted via the usual means. In any case, my life isn't exactly too interesting right now (I think).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And besides, closing this place means that I won't spam crap in anger which I'll regret in later time x. Or maybe I'll stay happy from now on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just adding another few more dozen layers of wall to my already huge amount of emotion barriers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-2098681226227284079?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/2098681226227284079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=2098681226227284079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2098681226227284079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2098681226227284079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2008/04/time-to-close-down-o.html' title='Time to close down! \o/'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-1274364848047296756</id><published>2008-04-02T23:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T01:03:22.234+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Running away from home.</title><content type='html'>Running away from home solves nothing. Just as rage and anger. Nothing. Attention seeking as they may be, running away is the worst thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've said it once. I don't wish to repeat myself either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-1274364848047296756?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/1274364848047296756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=1274364848047296756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1274364848047296756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1274364848047296756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2008/04/running-away-from-home.html' title='Running away from home.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-4099651437786785742</id><published>2008-03-30T21:46:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T22:06:02.715+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oz party! Oi Oi Oi!</title><content type='html'>So, I went to this Aussie birthday party at a bar yesterday night. Nothing fantastic, but I learned quite a few things about the tradition here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, the organiser said that the party starts at 7, so I got there early, being used to what comes from in Singapore. Moreover, it was straight after work, so I changed from my work uniform into my party gear and headed there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only to look like an idiot as the organiser arrived past 7, and people slowly streaming in. At 10, people were still slowly streaming in. At least me and my co-workers got there a little early and had a few drinks to ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, where if you go to a birthday party, you would be expected to bring a birthday gift for the birthday person. At least, that was the case in both HK and Singapore. Here, presents were given rarely. Moreover, people just appear, say their greetings, and buy a drink for themselves, or get a fairly cheap drink for the birthday person (Vodka sunrise? &gt;_&gt; C'mon... Go Martinis!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirdly, people who come in usually stick to their own groups. It was a fairly large party at the club, but people simply mixed with the people they knew. When everyone was trying to mix together, the table was pretty dead and silent. No one buying drinks, no one doing anything. But once the woolworths crew arrived, things finally started heating up (for me, at least) as everyone seemed to have relaxed more as cliques are formed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insanely, people here can drink very well. In fact, a little too well. Where I am used to a maximum of 3 drinks a night out (in 3 hours, no less), people here down their drinks in a space of 5 minutes. Forty dollars, which would usually survive any night out, didn't last long there. It was beer, rum &amp; coke, beer, and it kept going on. If you held on to your drink for too long, you got some explaining to do as to why you are taking so long to drink it. Not to mention that the drinks at the bar (Regatta) was crap and hella expensive. The martini was only a double shot, and the rum with coke had almost 85% coke. It felt like I was drinking water half the time. In the end, I had to settle for a Heineken because that's what I call real stuff down here. While there are some really good bars out there (Myer's center is pretty good), that bar just didn't cut it. No idea why everyone keeps going there though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was nice to see the working crew relaxing for a bit with drinks and stuff. Still, it's not exactly my kind of thing, this insane drinking thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lessons learned:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Arrive late. Not too late, but late is cool. Around 1 hour plus would be fine.&lt;br /&gt;-Save the birthday gift for a drink. Even if it's for a girl.&lt;br /&gt;-Bring cash. Lots of it.&lt;br /&gt;-Eat before going to any drinking party. No one is going to buy food for you.&lt;br /&gt;-Bring more cash, if you are intending to stay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-4099651437786785742?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/4099651437786785742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=4099651437786785742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4099651437786785742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4099651437786785742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2008/03/oz-party-oi-oi-oi.html' title='Oz party! Oi Oi Oi!'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-3987425839870339410</id><published>2008-03-23T11:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-03-23T11:11:18.495+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Thanks"</title><content type='html'>A word that takes so little to say, yet means so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does, it really does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what's happening in my life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-3987425839870339410?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/3987425839870339410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=3987425839870339410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/3987425839870339410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/3987425839870339410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2008/03/thanks.html' title='&quot;Thanks&quot;'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-4700237944508878947</id><published>2008-02-20T02:11:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T03:08:26.045+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"There is no future for me here"</title><content type='html'>Recently, me and my crew were talking when someone mentioned that out of a sudden. The conversation then turned into a whirlwind of people who suddenly wants to leave that place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make no mistake, that is a word from one of the senior crew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hey, I don't blame him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After being forced to work for 60 hours every week, he finally had enough and stepped down from his position, going back to the great hours of 20+ a week. Suddenly, the new manager gets training and a new influx of crew entered the staff. Good for us, but I think when the place realised that the one man army has gone and they need more staff, they got it, even though they refused to release more budget to us for the past year or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh, did I say I was to be transferred to the Produce department initially? I don't mind produce, life is a lot easier there, but I'm just surprised on how far they are going to just chuck people around. I wonder if they will ever ask me if I would want to go to Produce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valentine's day at Noosa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Sunshine coast itself is totally different from the Gold Coast. For one, it is really catered to people with their own public transport (My parents would probably flip if they realised I rented my own car). It is also a place where it is more catered for the surfers and the elder generation. Gold Coast is where you go if you want to go insane with the crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to relax? Try the Sunshine coast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, there's only one word to describe the Sunshine coast:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The forests, the beaches, they are all fantastic. Unspoilt nature, all for you to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's slow as hell. If you want the malls, stick to Gold Coast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And did I enjoy my Valentine's day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hell yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pics in Facebook.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-4700237944508878947?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/4700237944508878947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=4700237944508878947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4700237944508878947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4700237944508878947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2008/02/there-is-no-future-for-me-here.html' title='&quot;There is no future for me here&quot;'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-7821306124660078314</id><published>2008-02-11T03:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T03:23:34.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jokes</title><content type='html'>I give up. I absolutely give up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have said twice not to do it, but you, as usual, paid no heed to my emotions and my actions, and continued to play around. So when I get annoyed, it becomes my fault that I get annoyed because you throw a tantrum which, for once, I have no energy to deal with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It always seem to be my fault, isn't it, no matter what happens. Never yours, mine, always. I said "Don't ask stupid questions" and you took that to mean that I insulted your intelligence, a phrase I absolutely ignored because my mood was steeply going downhill because of a MSN conversation I was having. Fine, it is a conversation which is between me and a girl I had a crush on, but I moved on . You took it to mean something else, and hey, again, without asking me. And hey, I have to find things out on your blog again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I don't know what to think any more. I wonder why I even looked at your blog in the morning. Maybe it's because I wanted to know how you feel, because you seldom tell me your feelings, but prefer to spew it out on a blog instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I give up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7821306124660078314?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7821306124660078314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7821306124660078314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7821306124660078314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7821306124660078314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2008/02/jokes.html' title='Jokes'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-7462248760474768941</id><published>2008-02-02T15:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T15:46:40.609+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Exhaustion</title><content type='html'>38 hours a week is extremely tiring. Given a choice, I really don't want to do it, but in order to save up for a holiday, I got to grin and work on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hard, but hopefully, the reward will be satisfying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7462248760474768941?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7462248760474768941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7462248760474768941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7462248760474768941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7462248760474768941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2008/02/exhaustion.html' title='Exhaustion'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-8646061061952865088</id><published>2008-01-21T20:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T22:41:24.932+08:00</updated><title type='text'>week 1</title><content type='html'>1 week is over. Nothing much changed, except for a new house which a few of us are sharing. Rent is cheaper, internet is cheaper and better, and transport costs are close to 0.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what's really annoying me is my work place. It is in a total meltdown over the past week (which was when I got back). You stabilise the place, go home tired, only to come next morning to see another meltdown happening right in front of your eyes. Everyone is pissed, no one really cares any more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that's why no one really likes working in such places. Even though the insanity is fun, constant insanity will get to you some day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It shows how much annoyed people are when the 2 most senior staff in the crew stopped caring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about as good as it gets.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-8646061061952865088?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/8646061061952865088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=8646061061952865088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8646061061952865088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8646061061952865088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2008/01/week-1.html' title='week 1'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-6244347661738602845</id><published>2008-01-11T12:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T13:07:08.071+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And off, I go.</title><content type='html'>Time sure flies. Now I'm heading back to Australia, and for the first time, I'm really looking forward to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many thanks to all the friends who took time out of their busy lives just for a quick meet up before I leave, even though it was on a really short notice because I only had a week in Singapore after touching down from Hong Kong. Especially so for Ronald (Who met me almost immediately after I touched down on such a short notice), Sean (BBQs ftw?), Rachel (Work life is always busy, yet there's always time for lunch ;) ) and Joanne (Living at a different place now, yet still found time to meet up).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even more so for my ELDER SISTER Fengzhi (Or just sister? :P), who even found time to organise an outing. That was a really nice night, especially after we spun through the entire bugis street together (and made me delay in buying the pillow. In case you are wondering, I got it the next day, so no worries :P )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, the fun and games are gone. Everything is hitting the red the moment I reach Australia (Bloody rents). It's time to get back to work hopefully on Monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, of course, going back to see my Gilian &lt;3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sole reason why I have been itching to go back since the 25th of November ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-6244347661738602845?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/6244347661738602845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=6244347661738602845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6244347661738602845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6244347661738602845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2008/01/and-off-i-go.html' title='And off, I go.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-1688146908738836042</id><published>2008-01-08T15:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T15:09:26.540+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The countdown is finally coming to an end.</title><content type='html'>Finally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;_&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was really hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-1688146908738836042?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/1688146908738836042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=1688146908738836042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1688146908738836042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1688146908738836042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2008/01/countdown-is-finally-coming-to-end.html' title='The countdown is finally coming to an end.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-6634232699600790799</id><published>2007-12-11T14:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T15:39:32.994+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The beauty of the newspaper.</title><content type='html'>I don't know why, but I always enjoy reading the Straits Times, maybe it's because it is always amusing to read some articles, and then laugh as you read the facts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to the recent Prima Deli food crisis, when cakes were poisoned due to poor hygine, one reader decided to write in to express her view that 40% of tertiary students do not wash their hands after heading to the loo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Facts are as such: She is assisting during exams and she had to escort students to the bathroom during, presumably, an exam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read: Exams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, the fact that she said 40% is an interesting statistic. Unless she stood at the bathroom during a recess break, how could she conclude that 40% of the students she escorted can be said to be that of the nation's population? Moreover, you do not see heaps of students heading to the bathroom during an exam, where time is of the essence. During an exam, it would be surprising to see more than 10 head to the bathroom during a one and a half hour paper, because exam papers are usually structured in a way that you have just sufficient time to finish it, with maybe 2 minutes to check everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone who studied statistics would know that if your sample size n is small, then your results would be extremely skewed and very likely to not be that of the population. Moreover, as the writer is female, maybe it is only the females who are the ones who are unhygienic (*runs*), because unless she goes to the gents as well, she cannot say the same for the guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assuming that she is assisting the exam at a tertiary institution where all the students have an extremely weak bladder and heaps of them go to the toilet during the exam, again, time is of the essence. Do you seriously expect students to fully wash their hands with soap and water and allow it to run for over a minute? Most, including me, will simply wet our hands due to practice, before running back to their seat to continue working on the paper. It is simply understandable that, under such time constraints, one would put hygiene at a lower priority, if one can prioritize correctly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't mind anyone saying that us students are unhygienic if she was a teacher who makes random observations at her school's toilet, but seriously, get a better example if you are writing to the nation's newspaper, or you risk getting ridiculed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should write a response to the forum....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-6634232699600790799?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/6634232699600790799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=6634232699600790799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6634232699600790799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6634232699600790799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/12/beauty-of.html' title='The beauty of the newspaper.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-118954665703150696</id><published>2007-12-10T00:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-10T01:05:49.297+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Service: Just how hard is it?</title><content type='html'>After working in this very unrewarding industry only best known as the service industry, I know how much crap people have to take, and could almost understand their absurdly foul faces when I see them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, seeing that we are all comrades, I actually do my best to lighten the day. I know that a smile and a small word of hi will improve the mood of any cashier/waiter considerably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least, that was the case back in Australia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But back at home in Singapore.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That, sadly, isn't the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To at least 20 supermarket cashiers whom I've said hi to, only 1 has replied me. The rest ignored me and continued scanning, or showed some signs of life by moving their head slightly to look at me, as if I've said something uncharacteristic (it probably is in Singapore), before heading back in their zombie-state of scanning items.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kudos to you, that uncle at Cold Storage Bugis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just how hard is service? I'm not asking you to bow on my way out, or thank me loudly when I leave the store. All I ask is a more skillful eye, a slight smile, no matter how forced, and an overall pleasant attitude. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just how hard is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take, for example, a recent visit to Sakae Sushi at Marina Square with Sean and Ron. By sheer stupidity, I spilled the miso soup. While we were all laughing and making a general rackus, I simply cannot believe my eyes when I saw staff simply walking past and not offering any assistance. We may not need any, but even a slight question and giving us some tissues would be nice. Instead, we have to use the hand towels provided and I ended up with a pair of fairly hot wet pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much for that meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much for attention to awareness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much for eating at Sakae Sushi at Marina Square for the next year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-118954665703150696?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/118954665703150696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=118954665703150696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/118954665703150696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/118954665703150696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/12/service-just-how-hard-is-it.html' title='Service: Just how hard is it?'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-6546881575756935405</id><published>2007-12-09T15:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T15:25:30.422+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pubs.</title><content type='html'>They're evil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first pub experience I had is not one I'll remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I just am not suited for such things after all. LoooL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-6546881575756935405?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/6546881575756935405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=6546881575756935405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6546881575756935405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6546881575756935405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/12/pubs.html' title='Pubs.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-1600843861712850978</id><published>2007-12-04T04:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T04:29:09.309+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random questions, answered!</title><content type='html'>On request:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.被點到名字的要在自己的博客裏寫下自己的答案，然後去掉一個你最不喜歡的問題再加上一個你的問題，仍然組成20個問題，傳給其他8個人，列出其他8個需要回答問題的人的名字，還要到這8個人的博客裏留言通知對方----你被點名了，被點名者不得拒絕回答問題，完成遊戲的人將會永遠得到大家的祝福。&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B.這8個人要在自己的博客裏註明是從哪裏接到的，並且再傳給其他8個人，讓遊戲繼續下去，不得囘傳。被點到名字的人將會得到大家的祝福，並且所有美好的願望都會在不久的將來實現&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Random blah. Does not read, maybe some part of A is read)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. 愿意平淡活到70岁死去（毫无任何作为和影响）还是在30岁最鼎盛时期死去，为什么？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live till 70. Because dying young is so not fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. 你最不能容忍你最亲的人对你做什么事情给你造成怎样程度的伤害?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Betrayal. Lies. etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.如果被喜欢的人拒绝,怎么办?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;World comes to an en-... I mean, accept it and move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.如果还有一天就是世界末日了，你会和谁在一起，做什么？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be with my Gillian for the entire day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silly question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.最受不了自己哪個缺點？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no weak-...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I hate myself for being an ass, careless, and wanting everything to go exactly my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.如果有不開心的事情，你會怎麽辦?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.最害怕失去的东西？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.五年内比较现实的目标是什么？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make a million dollars. In any currency possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.遇到喜歡的人，你是勇敢表白還是默默關注？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The former, although I have been known to muck around and do the latter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. 如果你被朋友讨厌了，你会怎样办? (Changed as per rule a)&lt;br /&gt;Ask what's wrong. Failing that, fight fire with fire. Idiots who refuse to say why they dislike you should be kept at arm's length.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.你最想(愿意)为点你名的人做什么?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hug them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.喜欢什么类型的人？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun, outgoing people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.你對你的近況滿意嗎？有什麽需要改變?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not bad. Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.如果以后我们再也不可能见到，你最想和点名者一起做什么或说什么？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still hug them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15.会姐弟恋吗?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incest is like, hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I surf too much 4chan. Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17.如果能让你实现一愿望，是什么？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll have 3 more wishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18.喜欢平淡的二人世界生活还是多姿多彩但是孤身一人的生活？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The former. A cold bed is cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19.你最想去哪个地方？为什么？&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outer space, because that's the best place to view this piece of rock known as earth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20.為你點名的人說一句話&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That took, 15 minutes, But quite a bit of soul searching, more than I've done in the past 3 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People to name:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*an advocate of anti-spam mail*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-1600843861712850978?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/1600843861712850978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=1600843861712850978' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1600843861712850978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1600843861712850978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/12/random-questions-answered.html' title='Random questions, answered!'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10365863.post-5200102935703350099</id><published>2007-12-01T23:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T00:32:58.551+08:00</updated><title type='text'>MapleStory server going down makes it into the news</title><content type='html'>On Friday, I was rather surprised when I went to the back pages of the Straits Times and saw a report on Maplestory servers going down due to a hard disc failure, resulting in the loss of "XP" and the in-game gold gained by the players.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, my first reaction was to laugh at the poor suckers who may have realised that the 2 hours could be better spent (playing other games) other than to grind at MapleStory. How they don't get bored, is beyond me. In fact, MMORPGs is getting boring, after the bubble burst around 2 years ago. FPS is the in-thing again, at least the good ones with an actual storyline or something which has a special feature about it (Open endedness is one of the big plus in games these days).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My second reaction was amusement at how it actually got a fairly big mention on the newspaper, even though it was on the back. You don't see DOTA getting mentioned when a new patch (which takes it even further downhill every time). Why the sudden mention? There's plenty of things in Singapore to talk about, especially in the wake of the Dragonboat accident, or the doggie incident. Moreover, that spot could have been sold to some company to advertise their products, such a critical thing now that we are heading into the Christmas period. Even though MapleStory is popular in Singapore, to see it getting mentioned is amusing and ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, I never really bothered when ST comes to games. Who knew that Blizzard created DOTA? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LoooL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-5200102935703350099?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/5200102935703350099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=5200102935703350099' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5200102935703350099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5200102935703350099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/12/maplestory-server-going-down-makes-it.html' title='MapleStory server going down makes it into the news'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-6533906431827700410</id><published>2007-11-30T02:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T02:29:26.126+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sitex 2007</title><content type='html'>This time every year, I head down to Sitex with my dad to snap up some really good hardware deals (never mind that they are usually $2 or $3 cheaper than what you will get at sim lim), and to look at the latest technology. This year was no different. When Sitex came around, we went down to Sitex to have a look, and maybe pick up a bargain or two. I wanted to check out the prices of the new Ipod Nanos as well as a motherboard for my computer, both which are fried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, I was disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike the years before, the show actually had some small companies from sim lim coming over to sell their wares. This year, it seems like the major players in the technology scene has decided to put their stuff out (economy doing well, maybe) and, like what they do best, stomp out the competition of the smaller businesses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harvey Norman has practically taken up half of one of the halls just selling its TVs and digital cameras. Samsung took up the other half selling their stuff. Where Razor set up shop has year at the corner of the expo hall, this year, it was replaced by logitech, selling only a few graphics card but plenty of their keyboards and the like. The only hardware I found was the kingston ram area where they were selling Laptop DDR2 rams for $30 for 1 gig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within 45 minutes, we were out of that place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a stark contrast to the 2 hours I spent there last year, peering from stall to stall, just wondering around and watching the DOTA match-up invitationals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big companies are good, in a sense, since they help push the prices down for us consumers (You would think so...&gt;_&gt;). But, when shows like these comes around, is there really a need to show case all that cameras and phones? If I wanted one, I'll walk into Harvey Norman myself. Sitex 2007 is pretty much an absolute waste of time for me. I didn't get to see how the new graphics cards work, didn't get to look around for some cheap hardware for my computer. In the end, all I brought was a gaming controller for $30 which I shared half with my brother. My computer remains unfixed, and I am none wiser when it comes to Ipods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And also, I realised something too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The model girls, fabulously looking ladies (not in a perverted sort of way &gt;_&gt;) looked pretty... bland this year. Beauty comes from within, but it seems like the beauties of the exteriors have gone missing this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe, my perceptions have changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, many things did happen during the time I was not in Singapore. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, only one girl looks fabulous now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-6533906431827700410?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/6533906431827700410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=6533906431827700410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6533906431827700410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6533906431827700410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/11/sitex-2007.html' title='Sitex 2007'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-2549080396904793682</id><published>2007-11-25T18:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T03:10:03.011+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Home.</title><content type='html'>Finally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No fancy artwork this time. I'll make a new banner if I see a good one. Just can't find a half decent picture around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit: Found one from the Prism Ark game. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;Song of (whatever) changed to Soshite boku wa..., by Sakakibara Yui. Finally got around to doing the damned lyrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;此の空が眩しすぎて　そして新い朝が来る&lt;br /&gt;kono sora ga mabushi sugi te soshite atarashii asa ga kuru&lt;br /&gt;This sky is so dazzling, and so, a new dawn will arrive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;僅かな勇気だけを　振り回してるだけじゃ&lt;br /&gt;wazuka na yuuki dake o furimawashi teru dake ja &lt;br /&gt;If I am only relying on this bit of strength,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ホントの「強さ」なんて　解るハズもないんだね&lt;br /&gt;honto no ' tsuyo sa ' nante wakaru hazu mo nai n da ne&lt;br /&gt;Then I’ll never know what is the true meaning of “strength”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;緩やかな丘を上って　星の一つになるう&lt;br /&gt;yuruyaka na oka o nobotte hoshi no hitotsu ni naru u&lt;br /&gt;By climbing up that normal hill and becoming one with the stars,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;もしも叶うなら。。。&lt;br /&gt;moshimo kanau nara. . .&lt;br /&gt;If it can really be fulfilled,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;苦しみよ　愛しさよ　次の扉を開け放て&lt;br /&gt;kurushimi yo itoshi sa yo tsugi no tobira o akehanate&lt;br /&gt;Whether it is love or sadness, let me open that door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;たった一粒の涙　その雫よりも早く&lt;br /&gt;tatta hitotsubu no namida sono shizuku yori mo hayaku &lt;br /&gt;Before I let that one tear drop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;抱きしめてあげたいから　僕は戸惑いも超えられる&lt;br /&gt;dakishime te age tai kara boku wa tomadoi mo koe rareru&lt;br /&gt;I will forever be hugging you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;此の空が眩しすぎて　暗き闇は消えゆく&lt;br /&gt;kono sora ga mabushi sugi te kuraki yami ha kie yuku&lt;br /&gt;This sky is so dazzling. The darkness will slowly edge away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;輝きはプルズムへと　そして新しい朝が来る&lt;br /&gt;kagayaki ｗa puruzumu he to soshite atarashii asa ga kuru &lt;br /&gt;The light which is coming from the prisms, it will bring the new morning to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;心に翼がある。飛べるワケじゃないけど&lt;br /&gt;kokoro ni tsubasa ga aru. toberu wake ja nai kedo&lt;br /&gt;Although there are wings in my heart, they are unable to take flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;大空舞い上がれば　雲を突き抜けて行く&lt;br /&gt;oozora maiagare ba kumo o tsukinuke te iku&lt;br /&gt;It wishes to fly high in the sky, bursting through the clouds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;弧を描くアーチに沿って　夢の話をしよう&lt;br /&gt;ko o egaku aachi ni sotte yume no hanashi o shiyo u&lt;br /&gt;But, it is merely sleep talking if I say that I want to follow the drawn arch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;瞳を閉じたら。。。&lt;br /&gt;hitomi o toji tara. . .&lt;br /&gt;My eyes are closed..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;悲しみよ　切なさよ　高き祈りを解き放て&lt;br /&gt;kanashimi yo setsuna sa yo takaki inori o tokihanate &lt;br /&gt; Whether it will be sad or painful, release me from that height.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;たった一秒でもいい　胸に宿る温もりを&lt;br /&gt;tatta ichi byou demo ii mune ni yadoru nukumori o&lt;br /&gt;Even though it was just for that one second, a warmth has entered my chest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;気付かせてあげられたら　僕は、迷いも忘れられる&lt;br /&gt;kiduka se te age rare tara boku wa, mayoi mo wasure rareru&lt;br /&gt;Once I realised it, all my doubts will be forgotten. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;此の空が眩しすぎて　暗き闇は消えゆく&lt;br /&gt;kono sora ga mabushi sugi te kuraki yami ha kie yuku&lt;br /&gt;This sky is so dazzling. The darkness will slowly edge away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;輝きはプルズムへと　そして新しい朝が来る&lt;br /&gt;kagayaki ｗa puruzumu he to soshite atarashii asa ga kuru &lt;br /&gt;The light which is coming from the prisms, it will bring the new morning to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;たった一秒でもいい　胸に宿る温もりを&lt;br /&gt;tatta ichi byou demo ii mune ni yadoru nukumori o&lt;br /&gt;Even though it was just for that one second, a warmth has entered my chest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;気付かせてあげられたら　僕は、も迷わない&lt;br /&gt;kiduka se te age rare tara boku wa, mo mayowa nai &lt;br /&gt;Once I realised it, all my doubts will be forgotten. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;だった一つの涙　その雫よりも早く&lt;br /&gt;datta hitotsu no namida sono shizuku yori mo hayaku&lt;br /&gt;Before I let that one tear drop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;抱きしめてあげたいから　僕は戸惑いも超えられる&lt;br /&gt;dakishime te age tai kara boku wa tomadoi mo koe rareru&lt;br /&gt;I will forever be hugging you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;此の空が眩しすぎて　暗き闇は消えゆく&lt;br /&gt;kono sora ga mabushi sugi te kuraki yami ha kie yuku&lt;br /&gt;This sky is so dazzling. The darkness will slowly edge away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;輝きはプルズムへと　そして新しい朝が来る&lt;br /&gt;kagayaki ｗa puruzumu he to soshite atarashii asa ga kuru &lt;br /&gt;The light which is coming from the prisms, it will bring the new morning to us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-2549080396904793682?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/2549080396904793682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=2549080396904793682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2549080396904793682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2549080396904793682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/11/home.html' title='Home.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-7531947599647473721</id><published>2007-11-18T21:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T22:11:47.925+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The path back home.</title><content type='html'>Mmm. Finally. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so comes the end of a rather taxing year, where I was having fun with 4 subjects and 20 hours of work every week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whee, but it's all over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ph33r.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, to look forward to going home :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, before that, there are somethings to take care off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like getting a new place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check list for summer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Learn to ice skate, again.&lt;br /&gt;-Try not to destroy the world while trying something new.&lt;br /&gt;-Play Bioshock.&lt;br /&gt;-etc&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7531947599647473721?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7531947599647473721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7531947599647473721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7531947599647473721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7531947599647473721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/11/path-back-home.html' title='The path back home.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-1417284964165028411</id><published>2007-11-16T22:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T22:26:31.933+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving up in a company:</title><content type='html'>One of the more prolific department managers is finally seen getting training to become a real store manager, hence finally moving up the rugs of the corporation hill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, how long does it take? Rumor has it that it took her 6 years to finally land a department manager job, which means at least 5 years of getting paid $15 an hour ($15 is the lowest wage in Aussie). It may sound high, but when you are in your late twenties, $15 an hour isn't exactly a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that's the problem with huge companies where everyone is given a chance to head up, it's too hard to get noticed, and when you do, there's always someone to knock you down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never expected real life to be any easy, but sometimes, perhaps, isn't there a higher place to start? After working this hard for a degree, I really don't want to start work at $15 an hour and getting crap for it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Initially, I wanted to really work my way up this job, using this job as a stepladder towards greater things, but after seeing how some people get stuck in this job for 5 years and hitting the glass ceiling, I am seriously reconsidering this job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's time to hunt around again. A career should be like a running river. If you hit a dead end, you really need to find a way to get yourself to continue moving. If you stay stagnant, the world flies past you, and you will forever be stuck in the same spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is so time to hunt around again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-1417284964165028411?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/1417284964165028411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=1417284964165028411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1417284964165028411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1417284964165028411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/11/moving-up-in-company.html' title='Moving up in a company:'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-4603530758197315359</id><published>2007-11-14T22:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T22:26:16.955+08:00</updated><title type='text'>4/4</title><content type='html'>Woo hoo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-4603530758197315359?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/4603530758197315359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=4603530758197315359' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4603530758197315359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4603530758197315359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/11/44.html' title='4/4'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-6916236774623818536</id><published>2007-11-13T23:39:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T23:39:36.550+08:00</updated><title type='text'>3/4</title><content type='html'>Just. One. More. Day...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-6916236774623818536?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/6916236774623818536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=6916236774623818536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6916236774623818536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6916236774623818536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/11/34.html' title='3/4'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-5859712156873429628</id><published>2007-11-10T19:53:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T19:54:01.759+08:00</updated><title type='text'>2/4</title><content type='html'>And so it begins, once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just this time, it begins with 2 straight ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-5859712156873429628?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/5859712156873429628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=5859712156873429628' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5859712156873429628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5859712156873429628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/11/24.html' title='2/4'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-5945523940262509328</id><published>2007-11-08T13:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T14:38:32.649+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Failboo- I mean, Facebook.</title><content type='html'>So, after deciding to conform with the social norm and bending to the pressures generated by my peers, I've decided to join Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admittedly, it is fun. As a place where I can keep track of friends and upload my creations, Facebook is simply a site which takes the best in Friendster (Networks). After all, isn't Friendster a place where we all keep track of what friends are doing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, there are the applications. Werewolves, vampires, walls, like Facebook, they are all following the successful formulas of other sites (Outboards and IMing services).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I'm assuming they work. There are over 7000 applications, but everyone just has that few applications, and there are a few which looks interesting on paper, but simply is coded badly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what most of the applications do is to interact with your friends. You do so by doing digital stuff to them such as poking and hugging them. If you are annoyed, you can smack them or throw water on them etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, a way of interacting that is strangely, not interacting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hey, this is the new digital age, without these applications, I would not be able to keep in touch with my friends who are overseas, as meaningless as useless as they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though they are useless, it is interesting to see the people who are on Facebook. I just found my manager's picture there, and I must admit I've never seen him in that manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, conform with the social norm: Join Failbook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, Facebook :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-5945523940262509328?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/5945523940262509328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=5945523940262509328' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5945523940262509328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5945523940262509328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/11/failboo-i-mean-facebook.html' title='Failboo- I mean, Facebook.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-2732850594220175607</id><published>2007-10-29T12:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T12:04:18.651+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Exams time.</title><content type='html'>Bah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got bored, so I made this banner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-2732850594220175607?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/2732850594220175607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=2732850594220175607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2732850594220175607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2732850594220175607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/10/exams-time.html' title='Exams time.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-7794739529403472615</id><published>2007-10-25T21:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T21:19:19.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'>6 months</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RyCX0K3g_sI/AAAAAAAAAEI/3YKxa4ZjzVA/s1600-h/6+months.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RyCX0K3g_sI/AAAAAAAAAEI/3YKxa4ZjzVA/s400/6+months.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125263298473819842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7794739529403472615?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7794739529403472615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7794739529403472615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7794739529403472615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7794739529403472615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/10/6-months.html' title='6 months'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RyCX0K3g_sI/AAAAAAAAAEI/3YKxa4ZjzVA/s72-c/6+months.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10365863.post-2662637161105164069</id><published>2007-10-20T22:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T22:42:23.790+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The weird things you encounter at work.</title><content type='html'>Being in Australia, I've seen some things which are a major cause of concern while you don't hear much of them back at home. For example, whether students on concession tickets (like myself) should give up seats to perfectly healthy 30 year old adults on adult tickets during peak hour is a constant debate topic over at the mX newspaper, which is like the Today newspaper back at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At work, you see a lot of weird things too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see people with less than half a mind placing cold stock on shelves, allowing things like milk to go bad. You see people who cannot read the price tags and ask for discounts when the offer is clearly for another item (Never mind that the price is rather ridiculous. The price of a 1kg pasta is cheaper than that of a 500g pasta?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yesterday, something topped them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While filling eggs, I saw a boy, roughly 5 or 6 years of age walking around, looking down every aisle calling "mommy". Clearly a lost child situation, I asked a female colleague to bring the boy to the service desk (information counter for you and me back at home). Female colleague because my experience with lost child situations are not the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within seconds, the service operator announced to the stall that we have a lost child situation and to ask the parents to be reunited with their child at the service desk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The parents came within seconds, but where a smile or a very relieved look was what I expected, they came with a frown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why didn't you just leave him there? I was worried because you took him away!" was the first angry outburst from the mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O_o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Apparently, WE are the ones who are being blamed for her losing contact with her child. Not a single thank you, not a single "Thank god". Nothing. All we got from that parent was verbal abuse for bringing her child to safety and calming him down so he won't get scared in a crowded Thursday supermarket (Thursdays and Saturdays are the crowded days. Go figure). Never mind that the child was safely and swiftly brought to the service desk by us and not lead away into the outskirts of Northern Queensland by some pedophile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never mind that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all our fault for bringing the kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, many things we do is all our fault. The lack of supply. The lack of money in the cash registers. Et Cetra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, even failures of parenting is our fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love my job. :&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-2662637161105164069?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/2662637161105164069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=2662637161105164069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2662637161105164069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2662637161105164069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/10/weird-things-you-encounter-at-work.html' title='The weird things you encounter at work.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-363393202483160554</id><published>2007-10-16T11:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T15:26:47.981+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The pictures.</title><content type='html'>As requested by Xin Lan jie for many times, here are the pictures. (Home computer has a shitty upload &gt;_&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlKRdTq9I/AAAAAAAAAC4/1ZWz0AIJsLc/s1600-h/DSC02918.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlKRdTq9I/AAAAAAAAAC4/1ZWz0AIJsLc/s400/DSC02918.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121829903386520530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlqhdTrEI/AAAAAAAAADw/tw6tUkBcEvI/s1600-h/Image014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlqhdTrEI/AAAAAAAAADw/tw6tUkBcEvI/s400/Image014.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121830457437301826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heading to Lone Pine with Eric.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlqBdTrDI/AAAAAAAAADo/WDdXT8jOTRo/s1600-h/Image013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlqBdTrDI/AAAAAAAAADo/WDdXT8jOTRo/s400/Image013.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121830448847367218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cai Ling and Gil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlqxdTrFI/AAAAAAAAAD4/SAKbWgvfXSI/s1600-h/P1010211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlqxdTrFI/AAAAAAAAAD4/SAKbWgvfXSI/s400/P1010211.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121830461732269138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Koala is looking at you. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlrBdTrGI/AAAAAAAAAEA/4nkALI5LDAw/s1600-h/PA130313.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlrBdTrGI/AAAAAAAAAEA/4nkALI5LDAw/s400/PA130313.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121830466027236450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlKhdTq-I/AAAAAAAAADA/oS6jxWC89Vc/s1600-h/DSC02927.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlKhdTq-I/AAAAAAAAADA/oS6jxWC89Vc/s400/DSC02927.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121829907681487842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlKxdTq_I/AAAAAAAAADI/dRrgSXk8lN0/s1600-h/DSC02939.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlKxdTq_I/AAAAAAAAADI/dRrgSXk8lN0/s400/DSC02939.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121829911976455154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the birds that can be found at that place. From top: Emu, an owl and an eagle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlLBdTrAI/AAAAAAAAADQ/M0v4EVye8aA/s1600-h/DSC02970.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlLBdTrAI/AAAAAAAAADQ/M0v4EVye8aA/s400/DSC02970.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121829916271422466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlLhdTrBI/AAAAAAAAADY/JzWemjeCk1E/s1600-h/DSC02971.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlLhdTrBI/AAAAAAAAADY/JzWemjeCk1E/s400/DSC02971.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121829924861357074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The grey kangaroos. They are the cute ones, but they are also the lazy ones. The red ones are the ones that will hop to you for food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlqBdTrCI/AAAAAAAAADg/qz8CblfS1g8/s1600-h/DSC03011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlqBdTrCI/AAAAAAAAADg/qz8CblfS1g8/s400/DSC03011.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121830448847367202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As shot with me an Gil. &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-363393202483160554?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/363393202483160554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=363393202483160554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/363393202483160554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/363393202483160554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/10/pictures.html' title='The pictures.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxRlKRdTq9I/AAAAAAAAAC4/1ZWz0AIJsLc/s72-c/DSC02918.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10365863.post-1495607704824763996</id><published>2007-10-15T13:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T14:47:01.976+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmm...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxMGKBdTq8I/AAAAAAAAACw/jo09e4BoKu8/s1600-h/Happy+Birthday!.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxMGKBdTq8I/AAAAAAAAACw/jo09e4BoKu8/s400/Happy+Birthday!.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121443970510203842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, I want to thank everyone for giving me such an enjoyable and memorable birthday at Lone Pine and Darra. I would also like to thank Xin Lan and Fengzhi for SMSing me wishing me happy birthday. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of all, I would like to thank my girl, Gil for organising everything and even planning for a surprise birthday party at the Bridge club. Thank you. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My birthday started off with all of us heading down to the Lone Pine sanctuary where it is home to the most number of koalas in captivity. Having gone there twice when I first visited Australia and Brisbane 10 years ago, that place was full of many fond memories of me hugging the kangaroos and koalas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny thing was, as with one of my friends, Fibby said, "十年前是和你家人去。十年后就和你potential 家人去。" That did make a laugh out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After ten years, Lone Pine has not changed one bit. Other than the picture taking area going digital (it used to be Polaroid), everything else was still the same. The koalas, the emus, the kangaroos sitting under the tree because the weather was insanely hot (It was over 30 degrees that day). Nothing has changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After watching a birds of prey show (No falcons though. But then again, Falcons don't usually reside in Aussie/QLD) where we watched owls and eagles flying around, we headed straight to the kangaroo roaming area where we are allowed to feed the kangaroos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kangaroos here are pretty funny creatures. If you feed one of them, a few more will hop over and smack you to ask for food. However, the grey kangaroos can't really be bothered with you as they continue to sleep under the shade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lazy creatures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few pictures with the Koalas, we went to Eric's house for a game or two of Mahjong because the sushi bar I wanted to go was fully booked. Not my fault if they loses my business, so we decided to head down to Darra for seafood instead. Seafood in Australia is very rare because of Aussie's love for fillets (Most supermarkets sell only fillets because they are the only thing which sells well. A whole fish generally does not sell too well. I know. I've worked in the seafood department). Moreover, the fish there was fairly cheap as compared to what you can get in other places such as Chinatown (Cheating tourists' money) and Sunnybank (Chinatown V2). We had a lot to eat and by time the night was over, everyone was happy and full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, home we went, since Gil and I got work the very next day at 6am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hey, it was a fun day :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-1495607704824763996?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/1495607704824763996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=1495607704824763996' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1495607704824763996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1495607704824763996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/10/hmm.html' title='Hmm...'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RxMGKBdTq8I/AAAAAAAAACw/jo09e4BoKu8/s72-c/Happy+Birthday!.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10365863.post-3191542258440006681</id><published>2007-10-10T21:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T21:53:46.480+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The things people do to relieve stress etc...</title><content type='html'>What I do, is make a new banner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of (whatever) changed to Get you Cornered from the Maximum Tune 3 OST.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-3191542258440006681?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/3191542258440006681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=3191542258440006681' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/3191542258440006681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/3191542258440006681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/10/things-people-do-to-relieve-stress-etc.html' title='The things people do to relieve stress etc...'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-6101346350910474978</id><published>2007-10-07T19:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T19:33:27.383+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's interesting to see the bosses sweating once in a while.</title><content type='html'>It was yet another typical thursday at work (people here goes shopping on Thursdays and stay at home during the weekends. Go figure.). I got to work half an hour early and saw all the managers sitting in the office in a huddle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Figuring that it was some weird team talk, I just prepared for work and clocked on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey. The area manager is coming over." was the first sentence my boss told me the moment I reported for work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the area manager utter destroyed another stall a little under half an hour drive away, I was not surprised to see my boss, along with others, looking as if an exam to testify their existance has suddenly popped up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, being on of the cooler places in Brisbane, I can still say we were pretty much prepared for anything. It's not as if everyone was slacking off and eating ice cream while nothing is filled. All everything needs to be done is to be fully stocked and everything looking pretty good when they arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before long, the area managers arrived. You can tell that they are the ones everyone were referring to simply because most, if not all, of us peons are people my age, while managers are usually the people who are older (save for the meat section. There are some weirdos there). Detecting the manager simply took my memory skill of remembering all the managers' faces and realising that the new guy was not in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interestingly, he was holding a folder and a pen. Ticking off things, maybe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my area was pretty close to the deli/seafood section, I spied out of the corner of my eye as I pretended to be busy of him talking to the manager and the deli 2-IC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out later that he was not happy with how the seafood was presented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's not all. During my break (which came shortly), the guys from Long-life (everything else in the stall that does not need to be kept in the fridge, like can food and stuff), did not look happy at all. Seems like one of their things were not presented as well as the area manager liked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, the stall had few flaws, but it was not as bad as the world coming to an end for us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I really do feel for the managers, as moronic as they are sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone here is just trying to make ends meet. I really don't think there is a need to really crush the managers, or anyone, for that matter, when it comes to things. To see the seafood and long-life manager totally deflated the next few days was not nice at all. While every shop should be run to the top perfection, I think the managers should be allowed to be given a free rein when it comes to what they want to do. Being told off is something no one likes and is necessary at times, but when everyone is working so hard, a telling off just because things aren't the way one likes it is not the way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, my company doesn't do very well in the morale department. So nyaa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-6101346350910474978?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/6101346350910474978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=6101346350910474978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6101346350910474978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6101346350910474978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/10/its-interesting-to-see-bosses-sweating.html' title='It&apos;s interesting to see the bosses sweating once in a while.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-1580368048293673267</id><published>2007-09-30T00:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T00:47:58.115+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Virgin's High! - Mell</title><content type='html'>Please call me maiden sky girls&lt;br /&gt;Raising Crazy?&lt;br /&gt;Don’t worry we are the sky girls.&lt;br /&gt;…do want to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;照れた目を鋼鉄の肌&lt;br /&gt;tere ta me o koutetsu no hada&lt;br /&gt;Shy eyes falls on the skin of steel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;包んで（隠して）&lt;br /&gt;tsutsun de  kakushi te &lt;br /&gt;Enveloping, hiding...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;イトシトしたFever握れば&lt;br /&gt;itoshito shi ta Fever nigire ba&lt;br /&gt;The fever of the beloved which you are holding on to,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;引かずに（イクたけ）&lt;br /&gt;hika zu ni iku take &lt;br /&gt;It is what that’s attracting to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;骨の髄惚れた空&lt;br /&gt;hone no zui hore ta sora &lt;br /&gt;That chasing love in the bones is found beneath the skies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get down! Bang! ワームを撃つまで&lt;br /&gt;Get down! Bang! waamu o utsu made&lt;br /&gt;Get down! Bang! Destroy the worm!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;キメタ覚悟集めてTogether fly.&lt;br /&gt;kimeta kakugo atsume te Together fly &lt;br /&gt;Once we’ve all realised it, we’ll fly together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;争いに微笑みは&lt;br /&gt;arasoi ni hohoemi wa &lt;br /&gt;A smile during a fight,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;渡さないFighting Dream&lt;br /&gt;watasanai Fighting dream.&lt;br /&gt;Still, I won’t hand the fighting dream over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;愛に胸焦がしたままで&lt;br /&gt;ai ni mune kogashi ta mama de&lt;br /&gt;My chest feels that it has been scorched with love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;〔Wing sweet goddess sky〕&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;生きたい壊れてもJust believe in&lt;br /&gt;iki tai koware te mo Just believe in &lt;br /&gt;I want to go, even if it's spoilt just believe in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;〔Brand new pain outside〕&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;救いの日が見たいの&lt;br /&gt;sukui no hi ga mi tai no&lt;br /&gt;The sun which helps us to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;〔Love and joy on the earth〕&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;あげるよ命を宙にKissing dive&lt;br /&gt;ageru yo inochi o chuu ni Kissing dive &lt;br /&gt;As it is rising, I feel my life’s kissing dive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! Pretty lady’s sky girls.&lt;br /&gt;Fate understood?&lt;br /&gt;Innocent red last arms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;甘く見ないで頂戴&lt;br /&gt;amaku mi nai de choudai&lt;br /&gt;Please do not let me see your gentle side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;（時間がもうない）&lt;br /&gt;jikan ga mou nai&lt;br /&gt;There is no time left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;いつかその日が来るなら&lt;br /&gt;itsuka sono hi ga kuru nara&lt;br /&gt;The usual day is coming once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;（後悔してない）&lt;br /&gt;koukai shi te nai&lt;br /&gt;Do not regret it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;痛み分けた乙女違涙が闇を射る時&lt;br /&gt;itami wake ta otome chi namida ga yami o iru toki&lt;br /&gt;By spreading the pain, the maidens tears of darkness will pierce through time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;骨の髄まで走ったVirgin’s high!&lt;br /&gt;hone no zui made hashitta Virgin’s high!&lt;br /&gt;The bones are moving. Virgin’s high!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;失くしてもまた逢える&lt;br /&gt;shitsu kushi te mo mata aeru {yakushi te mo?}&lt;br /&gt;It’s still a long way off,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;未来のIn your life&lt;br /&gt;mirai no In your life&lt;br /&gt;Before you lose the future which is in your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;求めた大空の上を（Shooting deep sadness）飛べたの&lt;br /&gt;motome ta oozora no ue o ( Shooting deep sadness ) tobe ta no &lt;br /&gt;Hoping to fly above the skies,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;心はNew beginning&lt;br /&gt;kokoro wa New beginning&lt;br /&gt;Towards your heart’s new beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;〔Come on greatest soul〕&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;諦めない使命を&lt;br /&gt;akirame nai shimei o&lt;br /&gt;Not giving up on the duty,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;〔Dancing beam the sun〕&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;零への風抱きしめる嗚へDive in high&lt;br /&gt;zero e no kaze dakishimeru o e Dive in high&lt;br /&gt;Weeping as you hug onto the winds of nothing. Dive in high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please call me maiden sky girls&lt;br /&gt;Raising Crazy?&lt;br /&gt;Don’t worry we are the sky girls.&lt;br /&gt;…do want to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;あなたに渡したかったよ&lt;br /&gt;anata ni watashi takatta yo&lt;br /&gt;You are handing the fight over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;一番望んでくれたから&lt;br /&gt;ichiban nozon de kure ta kara&lt;br /&gt;Being number one is what I wish to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;あたたかさに消えてく&lt;br /&gt;atataka sa ni kie te ku&lt;br /&gt;This is as if I had been lied to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;冷たく重い鉛の様は日々が&lt;br /&gt;tsumetaku omoi namari no you wa hibi ga&lt;br /&gt;Just like everyday where the metal is heavy and cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;いま青き大宇の果てまばゆい導きに並び&lt;br /&gt;ima aoki daiu no hate mabayui michibiki ni narabi&lt;br /&gt;Now, the blue space’s limits is beautiful as the line is shown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;月渡す　明けの世を積み込み　開けドアよ　彼方への&lt;br /&gt;tsuki watasu ake no yo o tsumikomi ake doa yo kanata e no&lt;br /&gt;Handing over the moon, it is the opening of the door which leads to the beginning to a new generation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;黒き火の潮へ&lt;br /&gt;kuroki hi no shio e&lt;br /&gt;The tide of dark fire is coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;（The other side whirls）&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;この祈りを受けて&lt;br /&gt;kono inori o uke te&lt;br /&gt;Your prayer is heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;〔Go for it! Sky girls!〕&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nutty managers are nutty. All of us are just trying to earn a buck. No need to go around screwing each other, even if everyone are managers. I really feel for managers who gets ripped by their higher counterparts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WITH GREAT POWER COMES GRE-...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-1580368048293673267?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/1580368048293673267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=1580368048293673267' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1580368048293673267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1580368048293673267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/09/virgins-high-mell.html' title='Virgin&apos;s High! - Mell'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10365863.post-7817829016334751919</id><published>2007-09-25T22:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T22:49:56.405+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The one week break.</title><content type='html'>I needed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surfer's paradise is still as boring, but still as fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And also, still just as frustrating. &gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps one night of sleep will change everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7817829016334751919?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7817829016334751919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7817829016334751919' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7817829016334751919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7817829016334751919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/09/one-week-break.html' title='The one week break.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-3893898575829541549</id><published>2007-09-20T09:13:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T09:14:16.861+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Special One is gone.</title><content type='html'>Oh my god.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-3893898575829541549?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/3893898575829541549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=3893898575829541549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/3893898575829541549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/3893898575829541549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/09/special-one-is-gone.html' title='The Special One is gone.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-8193895373483881452</id><published>2007-09-12T22:05:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T22:38:30.757+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things you learn and do at work.</title><content type='html'>Yes, it's another rant on my work, which I've come to find extremely interesting at times. Our previous "training" manager has been promoted to a full manager at some cocked up place (Warehouse, if rumors hold. Note that deliveries for loads are ALWAYS late. No idea why.), and I met the new "assistant" manager at work today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Initially, he was a very likable guy, but as I talked to him, I found my self parrying his questions and avoiding his hail of fire like a running duck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all probably started when I asked my boss whether I could reduce the price of a bottle of Ice coffee (since they are a popular choice due to their taste and size) even though the company policy states that I need to chuck it away. At that time, he was talking to the new assistant manager, who, while I still have yet to confirm, I can tell due to the actions of my boss, my 2nd IC and his actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boss and 2nd IC just seem a little rigid, and the joke the new guy made caused forced laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I was told to chuck it away (I took a swig later. Joys of working), I returned to the place I was refilling flavoured milk and continued my work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, he appeared right in front of me, introducing himself and saying he's the new assistant manager. All's fine, because I seriously can't be arsed to care who is my current manager. Pay me my money every week, and the Falcon remains happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, as soon as he introduced himself, he said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was taking over (removed)... (removed)... Er...", where (removed) is the name of the former assistant manager. He got the name right, but he forgot the sir name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alarm bells immediately rang. You don't rise to a manager's position without knowing who warmed the seat and left that desktop picture on your computer before sitting down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, while he continued to figure the name out, I joined in and faked what the name was. Obviously, I got most of the manager's names memorised on my very first day (this makes begging for shifts and work a lot more easier XD). When it was obvious that he was clearly seeing if I knew, was acting if I knew, or was simply plain ignorant, I "miraculously" recalled the sir name in the nick of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the only course of action which would work out to me still having a fun time in this job. You do NOT correct someone who just joined the crew and is sitting way above you in the ladder until you are certain that he is testing you. Correcting him immediately would make him look stupid, something he won't want, but not knowing the name would show that I was exercising clear ignorance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Balance. Everyone hates fence sitters, but the ones on the fence don't get bitten by the dogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, what he did next surprised even me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to the milk fridge, he told me that he doesn't want leaked milk to accumulate on a tray which was built for such a purpose. Getting a mop to clean it every time there is a slight spill will mean precious time on other areas will be gone. We usually wait till it looks remotely disgusting and even that of a custard (boss said that if it isn't black, it's still fine) before we decide to take it out. In general, we just aren't the clean type, because we just don't have the bloody time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my colleague came along after his lunch break ended, he asked if I met the new assistant manager. After saying yes, he immediately said (in the comfort of the milk fridge which was very sound proof),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's a faggot".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seems like I'm not the only one being peeved. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing is some vote thing which is about to take place next month. It's about the new federal workplace agreement. I don't like it, since I enjoy the hours I am being paid. Aussie has this minimum wage rule, which is why I'm paid $12 an hour, with an increase to $14 in October (This may sound high, but, everything in Australia is much MORE expensive than it is in Singapore. It's like your house rising in value of $100k, but you are going to spend $100k extra to buy your new house anyway.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, what people are fearing is a loss of our penalty rates. Currently, I'm paid 150% if I work sundays and 250% if I work on public holidays. I've yet to be sure on this (The fact book issued to us is next to useless), and a lot of our data are only released a week before the vote to see if we agree to it or not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admittedly, losing our penalty rates will benefit society. The main reason why shopping centers are closed during Sundays and Public Holidays is due to the penalty rates. It just costs too much to hire someone. Of course, you can factor the culture in, but penalty rates is one reason why very few people are hired on that day at where I work. Without penalty rates, more businesses can stay open. More people will be employed. The society will have more money to spend as people will earn on Sundays and burn them off at the nearby shopping center within the next 48 hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all, society benefits as people get more money to play with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a student...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surviving on the tiniest of margins every week...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Screw the society. Keep my penalty rates, increase my pay, give me more shifts which involves penalty rates, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously &gt;_&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-8193895373483881452?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/8193895373483881452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=8193895373483881452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8193895373483881452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8193895373483881452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/09/things-you-learn-and-do-at-work.html' title='Things you learn and do at work.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-4700679217613274162</id><published>2007-08-30T23:48:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T23:56:28.674+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring!</title><content type='html'>Well, in a few days time, at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn't like the old banner anyway. Had a bit of free time, so I decided to have some fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, 10 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 10 weeks of work, I was given an evaluation on how I was doing, and to see if I can move out of my n00b peon status to a full fledged peon to the company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dare say I passed with flying colours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It must be my upbringing. From what I've learnt, you don't go home until the things is done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Down here, it's "Time's up! Whoops! Sucks to be you. Long queue? Not my problem. Ja ne!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what is even more saddening is that the management here doesn't really take actual experience into account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, some 3rd in-charge got hired, but had no idea what to do. The management finally got rid of her (or will get rid of her in a week). However, instead of replacing her with someone who has worked for over 4 years or someone with equal experience, they are getting some 17 year old 3 IC from some unknown bean bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admittedly, if you are not advancing after 4 years, you should reconsider your career....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, while it may be a good choice for the company in general (Younglings get paid less. A lot less.), the morale of the entire checkout crew has been greatly affected, with quite a few (already disgruntled) people planning to leave ASAP. However, while some are studying at the moment, many more have come straight from school to work, which seriously narrows their career path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the real world, I guess. :&lt; Not that I'm an elitist, but let's face it, if you want your choice to be open, you will need education (I love economics...).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I've decided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to really further my career in this place as I had planned in the first place. Work recognition is too small, and if any, won't reach the ears of the people who has the power to do anything, assuming they even care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll just continue to work as the peon I am. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, time to look for an intern job.... Mmm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-4700679217613274162?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/4700679217613274162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=4700679217613274162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4700679217613274162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4700679217613274162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/08/spring.html' title='Spring!'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-8804997199720432646</id><published>2007-08-29T10:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T10:22:39.502+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Falcon Productions, returns.</title><content type='html'>Muhahahahhaa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if anyone recalls the Falcon's Productions, the one where I somehow chucked a 3 gig DVD ISO into 6 discs or something along those lines (GTA:SA XD)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then, I've kinda gone inactive, due to a lack of decent games and the fact that I myself don't play a lot of games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, it's time to rise from the ashes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my subject has a CD as a textbook, which, obviously, is very well and annoyingly protected. As it costs over $60 for a first hand (60% price for 2nd hand), my friends and I decided to use a cheap way out and make copies of the CD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, during Autorun and Installation, it will install a bunch of dlls into your C:/ drive, which is very annoying if your C:/ is pretty full. On top of that, while the discs burns easily (Note that this is a 2002 disc. No SecureROM and all that Jazz and certainly no Starforce), the CD-rom drive seems to take a whole lot longer to read the disc when compared to the original. When I tried installing using the burnt disc, the auto-run simply screws up and dies off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that this isn't an issue with protection, but just ridiculously silly and annoying coding, I decided to just go for broke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make an image of the CD, then run it straight from the Hard Drive, reducing time needed to run due to the ridiculously amount of time it takes to read from the CD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, it worked!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;$60 saved! \o/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woo hoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm still in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falcon Productions! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muhahahhahahaa&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-8804997199720432646?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/8804997199720432646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=8804997199720432646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8804997199720432646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8804997199720432646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/08/falcon-productions-returns.html' title='Falcon Productions, returns.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-581481002221520504</id><published>2007-08-28T00:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-28T01:31:37.307+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Respect for the teachers.</title><content type='html'>Today, one of my tutors was dressing a little... sexily. Bareback dress that was rather body hugging. While she was a little older than us and is fairly nice looking, that dress was something I did not expect from her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did surprise me, was a random guy who asked her out during class after he answered a question. While Aussies are a pretty responsive bunch (with us being the more quiet bunch), saying "will you go out with me tonight" back in Singapore will earn you an instant dismal from class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in Aussie, the teacher actually laughed and continued the class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's not all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember the days when the teachers who use the visualisers in their lectures zoomed into something (specifically some random Z value), and forgot to zoom out? Groaning or going "Oi oi!" will net you a scolding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Down here, some dude whistled to the lecturer, who actually laughed and apologised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O_o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Different cultures, I guess. Coming from one which you are taught from young to bow to the teachers when you meet them, and to greet the teachers before the class start etc had instilled some discipline and respect for the teachers. While I'm not saying everyone here has no respect, sometimes, even I find it weird when people start calling the tutors/lecturers by their names.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, it's not like the lecturers are annoyed by it. Some don't mind, and some actually encourage calling them by their names. I must admit I still feel weird calling teachers by their names, but hey, when in Rome, do what Romans do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respect. One word, different meanings across the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-581481002221520504?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/581481002221520504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=581481002221520504' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/581481002221520504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/581481002221520504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/08/respect-for-teachers.html' title='Respect for the teachers.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-7635267856719996093</id><published>2007-08-22T09:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T09:10:46.293+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why am I always late these days?</title><content type='html'>I wonder why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And no, I don't eat bread with jam for my breakfast. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of (whatever) changed to MASSIVE WONDERS by Mizuki Nana, which is Mahou Shoujo Nanoha StrikerS 2nd Opening theme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nana-chan to the rescue!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7635267856719996093?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7635267856719996093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7635267856719996093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7635267856719996093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7635267856719996093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/08/why-am-i-always-late-these-days.html' title='Why am I always late these days?'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-2523310356959421686</id><published>2007-08-19T20:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T20:57:17.448+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boss.</title><content type='html'>Previously, I have thought that my boss is just a random guy mucking around, haunting people and getting people to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, after an extremely short-staffed Saturday, I was forced to eat my words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Boss that I thought to be, was more than a Boss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's part of the team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When customers and loads begin to outnumber the current staff at hand (The usual Saturday. Note that NO penalty rates apply on Saturday. Great time to get work, since no one else likes working on Saturdays), every single hand was needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I saw the boss helping the guys in the Long-Life department (The guys who are in charge of restocking just about every other thing), I was deeply surprised. While he did not actually restock the items, he did "face" them up, which is to bring the items to the most frontal part of the shelf so that it looks "nice" (While at the same time, concealing the fact that there is nothing behind that stack which you see.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well, I guess he is the boss after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, to see him continuously checking on our progress and helping out where ever he can is nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this time when my team and I was doing the freezer stuff, but because we were so busy, we just placed anything that won't go into the freezer on the floor. When the boss came over to our end, he just picked up the Ice-cream we left on the floor and stuffed it into the fridge and walked off without saying a word. While the entire team thought that we were screwed, myself included, he did not say a single word on that issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, instead, he just told us to keep milk looking good (ie, well stocked) the next time we met. By the way, Milk is a huge seller here in Australia. Aussies just LOVE their milk. While there is a huge range and brands of milk, keeping them well stocked despite their huge amounts can be a challenge. I could be refilling a section of the milk (At least 50 bottles) within 2 hours during a really busy time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then again, I guess even the boss has his own pressure. He definitely has a profit target to meet (and to make him look good so he can go upwards too, maybe). However, what did impress me was that instead of sitting in his office or hounding at us peons, he actually helped us out during our time of need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A part of the team?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangely, my song on the blog has not been updated for a while. However, there just isn't any half-arsed decent songs these days which I seriously like. It's sad, but I guess that's how the music industry is these days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-2523310356959421686?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/2523310356959421686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=2523310356959421686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2523310356959421686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2523310356959421686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/08/boss.html' title='Boss.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-8651007040512196734</id><published>2007-08-17T11:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T12:01:08.698+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Maximum Tune 3</title><content type='html'>About damned time too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to tune up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I get the money...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-8651007040512196734?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/8651007040512196734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=8651007040512196734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8651007040512196734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8651007040512196734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/08/maximum-tune-3.html' title='Maximum Tune 3'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-9066206097844047619</id><published>2007-08-12T16:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T18:46:00.067+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ekka 2007</title><content type='html'>Ekka 2006 was the first Queensland Royal agricultural show I attended. However, while I was there last year, that was for slave labour to complete an essay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year, it's for fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EKKA is still the same, which well with the saying of "If it isn't broken, don't fix it". Admittedly, everything is a lot more expensive than it was last year. $100 flew out of my wallet before the day ended, and I didn't even know where it disappeared to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The price of good fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huhuhu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, it's all good. A much needed day of relaxation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures that actually matter, the kittens:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://xs318.xs.to/xs318/07320/DSC02658.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://xs318.xs.to/xs318/07320/DSC02658.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://xs218.xs.to/xs218/07320/DSC02659.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://xs218.xs.to/xs218/07320/DSC02659.JPG" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Huhuhu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it has been one year in Aussie. So many events have happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://xs218.xs.to/xs218/07320/Ekka03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://xs218.xs.to/xs218/07320/Ekka03.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes. Many things do happen after just one year :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-9066206097844047619?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/9066206097844047619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=9066206097844047619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/9066206097844047619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/9066206097844047619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/08/ekka-2007.html' title='Ekka 2007'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-4427907621985720452</id><published>2007-08-10T04:46:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T04:46:56.665+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Exhaustion</title><content type='html'>It's settling in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-4427907621985720452?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/4427907621985720452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=4427907621985720452' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4427907621985720452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4427907621985720452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/08/exhaustion.html' title='Exhaustion'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-5286763645890711619</id><published>2007-08-03T09:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-08-03T10:41:16.280+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shopping, the great treasure hunt.</title><content type='html'>Shopping, is like a treasure hunt. You spend hours looking for the perfect clothes, the perfect gift, or simply something which would catch your eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day, if you found what you want, the feeling of satisfaction would overwhelm you and consume you as if you have just eaten chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, it's surprising to see what lengths some people would go to get that perfect deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the supermarket I work in, sometimes, there are tags marked "special" which shows a discount for a product which is currently on sale. At the bottom of the price tag are two dates, one to show when it started, and another to show when the sale is to end. Staff members are supposed to yank the tag off once the discount period is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, sometimes, we get lazy, or forgetful, and with no trash trolley in sight, we just yank the price tag and stuff it at the back of the freezer, never to be seen again. Hell, I've once found one discount tag which ended on November last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, some people would go incredible lengths just to save 55 cents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was called up to the service desk yesterday when I was pretty busy taking care of stuff because some other guy has quit, leaving me to fly solo on Thursday nights. Some customer claimed that the ice cream he was buying was 55 cents more expensive than the price tag he saw. Since I did the freezer load for a few weeks, I was very sure that the special finished 2 weeks ago. He then led me to get the price tag to verify the price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lo and behold, there it was, sitting right on the bottom area of the freezer. I then vagely remember one of my collegues stuffing the price tag to the back because we were rushing for time back then. However, to see that customer ignoring the official price tag which where the ice cream was (at the top of the freezer), and looking to the special tag (found lying at the bottom), I found it a little ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, that is scanning policy of the company. If a customer finds the tag, we have to give it at that price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hurr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It IS a treasure hunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, did I mention that I have to write up a report on it too? &gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of (whatever) changed to I SAY YES by ICHIKO, Zero no Tsukaima~Futatsuki no Kishi~ Opening Theme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I SAY YES zutto, kimi no soba ni iru yo.... &lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-5286763645890711619?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/5286763645890711619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=5286763645890711619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5286763645890711619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5286763645890711619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/08/shopping-great-treasure-hunt.html' title='Shopping, the great treasure hunt.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-4534045433292580523</id><published>2007-07-31T15:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T16:02:01.183+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Second Life trains terrorists.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href= "http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,25197,22161037-28737,00.html"&gt;News link&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hugely interested in reading this article right from the start. However, my interest soon turned into amusement, and very soon, this article is pretty much like a joke in my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Kevin Zuccato, head of the Australian High Tech Crime Centre in Canberra, says terrorists can gain training in games such as World of Warcraft in a simulated environment, using weapons that are identical to real-world armaments. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure the SWORD OF A THOUSAND TRUTHS will cause MASSIVE DAMAGE. I'm sure it would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, this article places an insanely bad light on the word "Jihad". Jihad is a holy war taken by muslims, which can almost be used in the same context as "crusade". However, due to recent events, the word Jihad has been so distorted, the first thought that comes into your mind when you say "Jihad" is "violence" and "terrorism".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As seen in this article:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;On the darker side, there are also weapons armouries in SL where people can get access to guns, including automatic weapons and AK47s. Searches of the SL website show there are three jihadi terrorists registered and two elite jihadist terrorist groups. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Er. You can't wage a holy war online. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That aside, the fact that you could actually TRAIN terrorists online, and in SL, is a notion so laughable, it isn't even funny. I'm sure GTA teaches you how to use a rocket launcher. I mean, put it on your shoulder, press the button, and BOOM it goes! However, anyone who has used a rocket launcher (for military purposes, duh), will say that it isn't that easy. It's like driving a car or a tank. Your arrow/wasd keys make it look so easy, but if you try driving one, you are in for a very rude shock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Zuccato told an Australian Security Industry Association conference in Sydney that people intent on evil no longer had to travel to the target they wanted to attack to carry out reconnaissance. He said they could use virtual worlds to create an exact replica and rehearse an entire attack online, including monitoring the response and ramifications. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the world of internet! Heard of Google Earth? The times of olden spying and taking photos of the place is long long gone. The technology age allows anyone to access anything at any time. So, are they going to shut youtube down because youtube shows pictures of a building?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, what is seriously the most laughable is that companies actually treat the bombs as a real serious threat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;However, the American Apparel store is closing and moving out. The ABC has discovered that its bomb was a computer server error that it was able to fix within a couple of hours. Nonetheless, it is taking the likelihood of a terrorist attack seriously. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine, so it is a business. However, to take a "terrorist" attack on the virtual world seriously? C'mon. Someone needs to start downloading AVG and Norton. It is a virtual world, not a real world. Shouldn't better resources be placed into actually finding terrorist cells, actually discovering terrorist plots on the real world? Because, it's not good if you can find an online bomb, but fail to find the actual one sitting right in your toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Point is, Second life, is, a second life. You simply cannot treat it like a real life. If you dislike it, get the creators to write it out of the code. It's not that hard. If that code was written in, or is allowed to be written in, it should be gotten rid of immediately because it is in a terribily poor taste. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, to see them saying Pac-Man constitutes to violence to children once again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-4534045433292580523?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/4534045433292580523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=4534045433292580523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4534045433292580523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4534045433292580523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/07/second-life-trains-terrorists.html' title='Second Life trains terrorists.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-6423210098772478930</id><published>2007-07-24T10:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T10:51:39.584+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"That, is Mr Stinky."</title><content type='html'>While working one Saturday morning, my department senior got called to the manager's office. Naturally, random speculations on why he was summoned to the manager's office appeared on the lips on quite a number of us fellow peons. When a few more I/Cs and seniors from different departments were summoned, we all knew something big was about to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the CEO was coming, someone guessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, while everyone was making random crude jokes about what the actual situation was, no one really stopped working. And within moments, everyone was back to doing what they have been taught to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because, if it was something big, we would know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within minutes, our senior called us into the backdock/staff-only area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See that guy in the blue sweater?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That, is Mr Stinky."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my crew and I, as with quite a number of us on that shift, were new, we pretty much asked the same question:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turns out that Mr Stinky is the code name for a moron who comes into the stall, goes out of his way to look for products which are expiring, and will ask us to reduce them. While we do reduce products which are going out of date soon, his is a special case because of him simply going out of his way to look for the stuff that is about to expire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orders given were to refuse any kind of mark down if asked, and, if he continues to insist, get the manager (who will say "NO".).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, off to work we went. Out of the corner of my eye, I continued looking at the said subject as he digs into the chicken freezer looking for some out of date products. Alas, he is not so lucky that day, and he moves on to the juice area, hoping to strike a kill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, I was on shift that day. With these pair of Falcon eyes, I had already removed anything which was 2 days before the expiry date 2 hours ago (bwahahahah).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, while I worked and watched in amusement, I could sense something different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few of the more senior staff seem to be a little more active than usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not saying that they are a bunch of lazy morons, but you usually don't see so many senior people working together. The seniors are the ones who have to take care of the orders, the time table, and the random blah. This is why restocking the shelves is usually left to us peons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So see so many senior people on the trading area (the actual supermarket itself, for you and me), was rather surprising.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, surprise surprise, they were all working in areas where they can keep an eye on Mr Stinky. Of course, they are not noticable if you don't bother looking much, but, seemingly, every aisle seem to be attended by a staff or two. Anywhere the said subject is, will always have at least 2 staff members working close by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In all, the whole experience was both interesting and amusing. Although no fuss was kicked up, it was still VERY interesting to see what happens when you are blackmarked by a stall. So, the next time you think you are being watched, but simply waved it off as "stress" or something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think again. XD&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-6423210098772478930?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/6423210098772478930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=6423210098772478930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6423210098772478930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6423210098772478930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/07/that-is-mr-stinky.html' title='&quot;That, is Mr Stinky.&quot;'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-7421908866094475793</id><published>2007-07-11T20:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T20:53:58.890+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Work, one week later.</title><content type='html'>And so, it has been 1 (actually, 2, but time is meaningless these days) since I begun work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The results so far, are satisfying. I am really enjoying my work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, underneath the layers of joy, lies a hidden, darker, intent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While everyone is pretty much happy and helping each other (Drinking while at work ftw!), there is this politics here and there which I find VERY interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Deli dudes told me that they dislike my manager. It's not hard to figure out why, given that his choice of language is poor at the best of times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, that action, to me, is very interesting. For one, I have always taken a liking to analysing people by their actions and their speech. By telling me that my manager sucks, it can only be one thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guys in the Deli is testing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I spill on them, I will become the most hated employee in that supermarket soon. However, if I agree with them, those words will come back to haunt me some day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the trick was to simply agree slightly, but at the same time, throwing some praise onto the manager, saying how good he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's not all. While I was cleaning up, I could hear the guys in the Deli (It is a fairly big department), talking about who is about to fill the vacant I/C spot, and who will be pissed if A or B gets the job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh. Work place politics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Admittedly, I don't enjoy playing it, but it is great to watch from the sidelines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, what was truly disturbing, was the attitude the people had to their work. Seemingly anyone who has worked more than a month can't be bothered to work hard, or work with a smile. I've heard rather damaging reports that my employer doesn't give a rats ass about its employees, and so on. Of course, some of these came from Cashiers (People here shop with TWO trolleys. And they fill them up. Imaging packing THEM. XD), but when I hear the same things being said by the people in Deli, Seafood and Perishables, it becomes a very interesting issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like they said, I'm still a freshie, so maybe in 6 weeks time, you'll see a very different post from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for now, it brings one question to mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are the employees just simply pampered? Most of them work as a way to obtain extra cash (I know 2 who work to pay off their degree), and most of them are surprised to find that I spend 1 hour to travel to the work place. Some of them are saying that half an hour is too much, when I had to wake up at 4 quite a few times in order to make the train and get to work on time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, until they feel the pain of needing money, I guess they won't care. XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check back in 6 weeks time. I might have a different post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7421908866094475793?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7421908866094475793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7421908866094475793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7421908866094475793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7421908866094475793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/07/work-one-week-later.html' title='Work, one week later.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-477237912846099903</id><published>2007-07-04T19:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T19:24:58.760+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Results.</title><content type='html'>6665. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THAT HIGH DISTINCTION CONTINUES TO ELUDE ME. WHY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ASJDHA&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-477237912846099903?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/477237912846099903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=477237912846099903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/477237912846099903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/477237912846099903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/07/results.html' title='Results.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-8274408943200326764</id><published>2007-06-28T21:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T21:44:35.836+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A fishy Falcon</title><content type='html'>And so, the first day at work begun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since they need people in the Seafood department, I was dumped there immediately, even though I was supposed to be in "Perishables", where I restock butter, cheese, milk and all that jazz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joys of being a newbie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, it's not all bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, I have a great supervisor. He enjoys using slang and what not, but there is a major difference between what I had in this supermarket, than what I first received in the cafe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt welcomed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the cafe, it's as though I must prove myself worthy to do that crappy job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I had to pick up the initiative to get into the kitchen and ask the boss what I could do back then, and where they just threw me into the job back then, this one was wayyyyyyy better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For one, they took me a tour of the place, made sure I had all my paperwork done, and then showed me how things are done. The work itself was pretty much dummy proof, with the steps being crystal clear on the first explanation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I had to do is to pick up the fish the customers want, punch in the numbers on the scale, wrap it up, and I'm good to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And being the absolute newb, my folding skills were terrible (I was never truly artistically inclined anyway. C5 was the best I got). However, unlike the cafe where I got scolded on the first day of my job (It was only later did the cafe owner remember that I was new), they were all cool here. The supervisor and the IC showed me how to do it with a pen, and I practised it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within the hour, my folding skills were perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I found that there is a stark difference between the service provided here, and the one I got back in Singapore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember once when I was buying a fish head in NTUC Tampines Mall. As usual, that supermarket seems to have been taken control of by aunties who can't win in Mahjong or something. When she didn't hear that I wanted her to cut my fish head, the person who served me got all annoyed and said "问了你要不要切liao".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What we learned here is, &lt;i&gt;"Serve people as you would want to be served."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because service is a major part of the supermarket, despite it being seemingly not so. If customers hate you, they will avoid your shop, as I did when I got treated rudely at the Ipswich Woolworths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hey, that's in the past. Moreover, it's saddening to note that I get more of that treatment in Singapore than here in Aussie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, when you do a good job, there is no better satisfaction than being appreciated for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A customer said this after I handed her a Salmon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"It's so nice to see a cheerful face."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That definitely made my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of (whatever) changed to crimson annihilate by Nanase Hikaru, from the Shinkyoku Soukai Polyphonica Original Soundtrack. The anime failed (very very hard. And I had such high expectations when I saw the webpage and the cast. Ayako and Mizuki? And it STILL failed? wth!), but the music of the anime is fantastic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-8274408943200326764?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/8274408943200326764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=8274408943200326764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8274408943200326764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8274408943200326764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/06/fishy-falcon.html' title='A fishy Falcon'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-1251729320655587299</id><published>2007-06-24T22:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T22:07:28.327+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hahaha</title><content type='html'>Happy Birthday, Fengzhi :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-1251729320655587299?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/1251729320655587299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=1251729320655587299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1251729320655587299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1251729320655587299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/06/hahaha.html' title='Hahaha'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-3347333707722687982</id><published>2007-06-22T13:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T13:56:55.149+08:00</updated><title type='text'>*“It’s cold out here.”</title><content type='html'>Falcon muttered to no one in particular. Unsurprisingly, he heard grunts of agreements from his fellow friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And comrades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The skies above Falcon are overcast, matching the gloomy, cold, weather Falcon was currently right smack in the middle of. Some say that the skies know what is happening, for they are, after all, looking at everything from above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And perhaps, they could be right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right in front of them, was a long, dark line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A line, of horses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A line, of enemies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They have been laying siege to Falcon’s castle for days now, but with the surrounding trees already hacked down months ago, the enemy only had the barest of means to construct their siege equipment. The castle itself was has sufficient supplies to last for at least two years, and plans were already underway to change the main courtyard into a mini farm where they could become self-sufficient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because, they are the last line of defence into the kingdom. Some called the castle, the doorway into Sophia. Some call it an impenetrable fortress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all, it is simply known as “The Gate”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And rightfully so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surrounding The Gate was mountains, with the only path through them being defended by The Gate. The Gate itself, was well defended with a host of archers and battle hardened soldiers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, beyond The Gate, was nothing. If the enemy breaks The Gate, Sophia would fall in a matter of days, even hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hence, the importance of holding the only passageway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“How long do they intend to stand there?” Falcon wondered, fingering the bowstring of his longbow. His closest friend, Orion, shrugged his shoulders in reply, his eyes never leaving the sight of the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smiling at Orion’s concentration, Falcon’s mind wandered back to the times when they were mere boys, being thrown into the ruthless training to become Longbowmen, strengthening their muscles to hold a bow which is almost as tall as he currently is now, and as heavy as himself. Moreover, the strength required to pull an arrow to shoot over 300 feet could only be achieved with a training which was as intense as it was required.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hard times, hard times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that, was all in the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a Longbowman, Falcon had no need to worry about getting into close combat. All’s fine with him, because, in his reasoning, if you let your foe come within 7 feet of you, that is when you should expect trouble. Take them down while they are still 300 feet away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“They’re coming.” Orion muttered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falcon snapped back to reality, as he looked for any signs of movement along the line. Initially, he thought Orion should get to bed, but when he squinted to get a closer look, a sudden spear of fear stabbed into his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orion was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The enemy is coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fact not lost to the captain, who was, thankfully, much more observant than Falcon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sound the horn”, the captain instructed calmly, a veteran who has earned his stripes the hard way, hence earning the respect of everyone as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A deep growing note sounded ringed through the night seconds later, as everyone snapped out of their trance, looking suddenly much more alive than they were moments ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amidst the sounds of preparation from the resting soldiers, Falcon wondered why the enemy has suddenly decided to break out of their siege.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“A raiding party, perhaps?” Falcon wondered, refraining from using the term “Suicide squad”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No.” Orion replied curtly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, as usual, Orion was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the centre of the tight enemy formation, was a battle ram.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ah, crap.” Falcon cursed, almost light-heartedly. Not a stranger to battles, Falcon knew that it should be the target the captain will call on sooner or later. However, the enemy would no doubt know that the ram could have been painted red as a target box for all they would have cared, and hence, would have placed their strongest armor and shield divisions to guard that ram.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Men, nock!” the Captain called out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As one, all the archers on the wall drew an arrow from their quivers and placed the nock on the bowstring. Around Falcon, everyone was calmly taking deep breaths, their eyes never leaving the growing dark line which was approaching them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Wager for 500 paces?” Falcon muttered. Orion ignored him, as he continued to concentrate on the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You’re boring man.” Falcon concluded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had there been a wager, Falcon would have won. But then again, no one would be silly enough to take him on anyway. “Draw!” was shouted when the enemy approached 500 paces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediately, the archers brought their bows up, aiming their arrows at the advancing line. In one quick fluid motion, they drew their arrows, the fletching reaching their ears for everyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one staggered, no one wavered. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone simply calmly waiting for the next order, their motion burnt into their brains from the time they knew what was truly happening in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 300 paces, the order came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fire!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Letting the arrow loose, the archers simply released their arrows. At 300 paces, it was impossible for one to truly hit anything. The strategy everyone used was simply to fire indiscriminately at a spot of land, and hope that it hits something. While the chance is so low that most arrows will simply be wasted, it is not a complete waste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one could look at a hail of dark arrows raining from the sky and not feel a tinge of fear. Even the most hardened man will have to look down and hope that his armour protects him from the hail of death from above. Trained men will simply continue walking, but the fearful and untrained ones may simply turn tail and flee. That is the effect an army of archers can have on an enemy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, the enemy isn’t the former. Without a break in their stride, they continue to advance towards The Gate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Nock!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Draw!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fire!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A second hail of arrows descended onto the enemy. This time, more screams were heard as more arrows found the weak spot of the neck. Archers have to continue to shooting in unison until they can truly be precise on their shots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And continue, they did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hail after hail of death continued to rain down on the enemy, killing as the arrows found their mark or harmlessly deflecting off a sheet of armour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 190 paces, the final order was given by the captain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Men!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fire at will!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“About time too.” Falcon said through gritted teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiming at the thigh of one of the advancing figures, Falcon let loose and arrow, smiling with satisfaction as he saw the figure fell almost instantly, adding his scream to the noise and destruction. Immediately, he drew another arrow and took aim at another unsuspecting figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The ram!” Orion shouted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking ahead, Falcon realised that the Ram was steadily getting closer. Although he trust that his fellow gate keepers can keep the ram’s damage to the minimum, he knew that if the Ram was destroyed, this attack would be over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as if the Ram breaches the gate, this attack would also be over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiming at one of the carriers, Falcon let loose his arrow immediately. Although the man fell, another replaced him immediately. The Ram continued to inch closer to the gate at every passing second, despite the hail of arrows coming down onto the carriers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, a spark of light fell onto the ram.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Fire arrows.” Falcon smirked, as he momentary diverted his gaze at the Captain’s own unit, their arrowheads tipped with oil and ignited by the torchboy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Captain obviously knew what to expect, and had already prepared for it long in advance. As the Ram was made of wood, it was easily combustible. Litter it with fire arrows, and it becomes a nice bon-fire within moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is also obviously why Falcon would never become an officer, or at least, in the near future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within moments, the Ram was a burning heap of wood. With no way to put the fire out, the men had no choice but to leave it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, something is different now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falcon smiled as he released another arrow to reinforce his point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, realising that they simply cannot win this battle, the men routed and fled. Hails of arrows continued to reinforce their decision, as the enemy, finally broken, decided that it was enough for one day. Running away, the once organised unit finally became a structured mess, as men pulled back on the sound of the retreating horn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around Falcon, everyone was cheering at their victory. Himself laughing, Falcon joined in taunting their fleeing foes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even Orion, smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“And so, it ends”, he muttered, beginning to unstring his bow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“And now, to prepare for the next wave.” Falcon laughed, patting Orion in the back.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, so now, uni is over for me too. Nyaa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got my Queensland Driver's license yesterday. However, I still preferred the shiny gloss which was found on the Singapore's license. The process itself took a lot longer than necessary as the staff didn't recognise my license (Going so far as to ask if it was a learner's license! :O!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what the hell. I got it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, to work. Whee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of (Whatever) changed to the Ending Movie from Final Fantasy XII by Hitoshi Sakimoto. Like all of the final movie themes, this one was excellent too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a fitting end to my Uni sem. Whee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-3347333707722687982?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/3347333707722687982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=3347333707722687982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/3347333707722687982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/3347333707722687982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/06/its-cold-out-here.html' title='*“It’s cold out here.”'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-6708398252894454067</id><published>2007-06-19T16:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T16:07:29.261+08:00</updated><title type='text'>4/4</title><content type='html'>Finally &gt;_&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-6708398252894454067?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/6708398252894454067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=6708398252894454067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6708398252894454067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6708398252894454067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/06/44.html' title='4/4'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-2007059317189467183</id><published>2007-06-17T10:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T10:47:14.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'>3/4</title><content type='html'>Note to self: Not bringing a calculator into an econs exam makes it a PSLE Maths exam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O_o&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-2007059317189467183?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/2007059317189467183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=2007059317189467183' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2007059317189467183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2007059317189467183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/06/34.html' title='3/4'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-2856879993137920464</id><published>2007-06-14T20:39:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T20:40:02.394+08:00</updated><title type='text'>2/4</title><content type='html'>The exam is only half the challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waking up at 6 in the morning while the room is at 5 degrees is probably the most fun of them all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-2856879993137920464?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/2856879993137920464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=2856879993137920464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2856879993137920464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2856879993137920464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/06/24.html' title='2/4'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-2917789707423959357</id><published>2007-06-12T21:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T21:12:44.260+08:00</updated><title type='text'>1/4</title><content type='html'>And here we go again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-2917789707423959357?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/2917789707423959357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=2917789707423959357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2917789707423959357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2917789707423959357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/06/14.html' title='1/4'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-980401715694958192</id><published>2007-06-08T21:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T21:54:38.897+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter</title><content type='html'>It's freezing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-980401715694958192?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/980401715694958192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=980401715694958192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/980401715694958192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/980401715694958192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/06/winter.html' title='Winter'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-5863116604122229169</id><published>2007-05-30T19:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T21:00:13.519+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The NightFalcon's grand adventure.</title><content type='html'>Tuesday, 8:00am:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After rolling around in bed fighting off sleep in the cold morning Ipswich weather, Falcon finally kicked his blankets off in an attempt to wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the temperature a little over 15 degrees (It warms up later in the day thanks to the sun), exposing one's body accustomed to warmth to the cold suddenly is never a good idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uguu" he wailed, as he ran back into the comfort of his blankets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the good thing about the sudden cold is that it does wake one up. Reaching down, he flipped open his laptop and did the usual checks on TVSgames.com (a re-found hobby). After shooting some level 5 Cruiser with his Galactic Bomber Alpha, he logged into his email account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To his surprise, he received an Email from Woolworths (NTUC of Australia? LoL), regarding his application for a cashier a few weeks ago. He was to go to an interview on Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overjoyed that he has a chance to ditch his old job, Falcon made his plans for the next day, since the interview place is at the WoolWorths cooperate headquarters, which happens to be in Acacia Ridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In the middle of no where" sounds just about right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, 9:00am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New day, same things. After the house experienced another "Uguu!" from Falcon, he carefully reviewed his plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2pm- Leave work.&lt;br /&gt;2:30- Take Train to Sherwood.&lt;br /&gt;3:40- Bus to Moorooka South.&lt;br /&gt;4:00- Bus to Arcadia Ridge&lt;br /&gt;4:15- Arrival at Woolworths corporate headquarters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smiling, Falcon left home, knowing that everything will go according to schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, as always, nothing goes according to schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:30am:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, arriving one and a half hours EARLIER does not make a difference. After telling his employer that he is attending a revision class (What, you think he would say "I am going for an interview for another job."? XD), his employer relented and allowed him to leave at 2:30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't too bad, since the distance from the work place to the train station wasn't too far, and so, everything fell perfectly into his plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2:30pm:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet another horrid day at work. Although he was complimented that his sandwich making skills were better (They still look terrible to Falcon. He still wonders how the hell people can force themselves to eat it), a few idiots can't speak clearly, and Falcon ended up making a wrong order, which annoyed him because he was very certain that idiot said "A cup of coffee" and not "a mug of coffee".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Idiots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After doing the usual cleaning up, Falcon ran to the train station, got his slip of paper, and got onto the departing 2:40 train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, 3:20pm.&lt;br /&gt;Sherwood Station.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After finding directions to the Sherwood bus stop, Falcon discovered that he could have probably stayed till 2:45, taken the 2:55 train, and still make the 3:40 bus. Not that it mattered. After changing his shirt at the bus stop, Falcon waited patiently for the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the bus finally arrived, the fun truly began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, the bus driver said that he won't be stopping at Moorooka South, the bus stop which Falcon had to alight in order to change service to arrive at his destination. After checking his notes, he was positive that the bus should stop at Moorooka South (&lt;a href= "http://jp.translink.com.au/TransLinkExactEnquiry.asp?Advanced=false&amp;PageFrom=&amp;Vehicle=&amp;WalkSpeed=67&amp;WalkDistance=&amp;Priority=504%3B-1&amp;UseTranslink=true&amp;IsAfter=B&amp;JourneyTimeHours=4&amp;JourneyTimeMinutes=30&amp;JourneyTimeAmPm=PM&amp;Date=31%2F5%2F2007&amp;FromRailStation=&amp;FromLandmarkType=&amp;ToRailStation=&amp;ToLandmarkType=&amp;FromLoc=Ipswich%7E%7E+%3BIpswich%3BIpswich%7E%7ESUBURB&amp;ToLoc=Acacia+Ridge%7E%7E%3BAcacia+Ridge%3BAcacia+Ridge%7E%7ESUBURB&amp;findjourney.x=30&amp;findjourney.y=17"&gt;Proof&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, thankfully, there was a guy who knew where Falcon was going, and told him that he was on the right bus, BUT, the website is wrong. He had to get off a stop early and walk 5 minutes to the Moorooka South bus stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, 3:55pm. &lt;br /&gt;Moorooka South Bus Stop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanking that guy for helping him (He was headed to Moorooka) many times over after reaching the bus stop, Bus Service 110 to Acacia Ridge finally arrived. On boarding, he showed his map downloaded from Google to the bus driver, hoping that she would know where he needs to alight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To his surprise and disappointment, she didn't. She recognised a few street names, and traced a finger over the route she would be driving. Finally, after 4 minutes, she concluded that I am to alight at one of the stops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 minutes felt like forever to Falcon, as time slowly ticked away. Of course, the passengers on the bus didn't like him for holding the bus either. After saying his apologies to the bus, Falcon sat down near the front as the bus moved towards his destination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, 4:25pm.&lt;br /&gt;Acacia Ridge, Bellamy Street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bus driver forgot all about Falcon as she did not stop on the drive. However, Falcon was tracing the bus's paths as it moved, and realised that Bellamy Street was one stop too far. Thanking the driver, Falcon followed the map onto Marnham street, which, according to the map, was right across Fox Road, his destination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing separating him and Fox Road is the rail way tracks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking that he would still make it in time, Falcon moved towards the rail way tracks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, a huge fence appeared in the middle of the bushes. All tracks in Queensland (And probably Australia) are fenced to prevent people from going onto it. This thought suddenly struck Falcon like a bolt of thunder. Looking a little beyond, he could make out the Woolworths sign at the far side of the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So near, yet so far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falcon is not about to go down without a fight. Tossing his bag over his shoulders, he attempted to climb the fence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As he placed his entire weight on the fence as he got a hold, the fence in Australia did something the usual fence back in TPJC did not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It fought back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of just sitting there rigidly, it absorbed Falcon's weight, making getting any kind of a foothold virtually impossible unless he takes his shoes off. However, as the stations nearby just got an upgrade, the fence in the area has been upgraded with sharp stakes at the top to discourage anyone from climbing. If Falcon had tried, not only would he be injured, his clothes would also be sliced like cheese, making look ridiculous during his interview.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slamming a fist against the fence in frustration, only god knows how far Falcon had to go in order to get to the other side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, as if the angels themselves have heard his cries of frustrations, he noticed something he initially did not in his haste to get over the fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some kind soul has broken a hole in the fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laughing, Falcon dashed through the hole, over the tracks, and to the corresponding hole on the other side. It seems like he isn't the only one who has been hindered by the fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After trekking through a bit of forestation, Falcon reached Paradise road, and finally, Fox road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running the final 100 meters, Falcon walked into the front doors of the Woolworths Corporate office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture (From google maps):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/Rl1sCR7kv4I/AAAAAAAAACY/sHGuK8vzqI8/s1600-h/map2+copy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/Rl1sCR7kv4I/AAAAAAAAACY/sHGuK8vzqI8/s400/map2+copy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070327541917859714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, he was 4 minutes late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, 4:34PM&lt;br /&gt;Woolworths State Corporate office, Fox Road, Acacia Ridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After suffering so much drama just getting to the place, Falcon entered at the same time as someone who was lucky to have his parents dropping him off. In the reception area are only 3 people, which struck Falcon as strange, as he would have thought that more people would have been selected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After being ushered into Conference Room, Falcon looked around the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quite a few High School students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As well as some people wearing formal clothes, ie a suit and tie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking at his T-shirt and Jeans, Falcon took pride in that he was at least somewhat presentable after his fight with the Public Transport network.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking that they were probably applying for some management position, Falcon filled up his form, which he was required to fill in what position he wants (CEO. HARHARHAR), and the places he is available to work at, as well as the time he is available.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes, the HR person in charge of these came in, and gave us an activity. It's a usual ice-breaker activity everyone plays in CCA/JC. You're to introduce the person across you, and according to the questions you're given, you are to give some information about the person. Falcon partner was Morgan, some nice dude who had a year of working experience and is applying for his position.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need I say he was in a suit too? LoL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the round of presentations went on, and Falcon realised almost everyone wanted the cashier position. Even the guys in suits and the ladies in some formal wear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, after the ice is broken, the HR person talked about the rules of Woolworths, about how you are to wear green and black yada yada, no tattoo etc etc. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just when everyone was about to go to sleep, she gave them their second activity, which was to have a role play. There's going to be a main character, and there will be some irritated customer who is missing food or something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falcon's team had to do a role play where the main character has to take care of a missing cake, out-of-stock on Sultana cakes, a delivery, and a burnt victim (Yes, we are in the bakery area. Whee).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falcon volunteered to be the customer who has a cake, and just acted like a total moron with some accent which seemingly every Asian person on television has (You wonder why...). It was a fairly interesting thing to do, although the girls in his group slightly annoyed the guys by going off track and wasting time talking about what they would do in an exaggerated manner, since the team only had 5 minutes to invent something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the role play, everyone was called up one by one to arrange a second interview as well as submitting their official documents such as identification. Falcon was surprised how some people didn't bring theirs even though it was stated quite clearly in the email.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Falcon arrived late, he was the last one to be called up. The HR lady muttered something about her knowing that she would get a VISA person today (Since Falcon was the only one who isn't Australian among the 28 of them). He was to fill up another form and he had his photocopy scrutinized, as well as the photo on his passport cross checked with his face (Granted, Falcon looked cooler in that photo.... But still... that picture was barely a year old).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, everything was done. However, unlike previously where Falcon had to walk through that hole and hope for the best in fighting the public transport again (The nearest train station, Salisbury, is an hours walk away. Woo hoo!), another kind soul offered a lift since he was sending another person back and we happened to be in the same train line (He lives in Graceville).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanking them a lot, Falcon looked back at what happened today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In general, Australians are very helpful when you really need them. Without the guy on the bus, Falcon would be screwed before the interview even began, and without the guy and his mom sending Falcon to Darra train staion, Falcon would be navigating in the dark trying to figure out the nearest way to get home (He would probably end up at Salisbury, head to Roma Street, and THEN back to Ipswich. Hey, that sounds like Gold Coast!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The public transport, sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, granted, Queensland is huge, but, Falcon did expect the drivers to know where they are going, especially when they are given a map.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Falcon do hope that he would end up getting a more permanent job in Woolworths in hopefully the future, he is very sure that the place is not very friendly to a person who does not have a car, like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still, admittedly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-5863116604122229169?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/5863116604122229169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=5863116604122229169' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5863116604122229169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5863116604122229169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/05/nightfalcons-grand-adventure.html' title='The NightFalcon&apos;s grand adventure.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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/_7GCpPy6JJE8/Rl1sCR7kv4I/AAAAAAAAACY/sHGuK8vzqI8/s72-c/map2+copy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10365863.post-7224989087974493925</id><published>2007-05-28T09:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T16:58:45.632+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The first Paycheck</title><content type='html'>And so, it arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just enough to cover my rent, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as Chaos asks, what do I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, think Subway. The customer orders, and you have to do everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the annoying thing is that you are expected to know EVERYTHING even though I barely have a week of work under my belt. It's extremely annoying when you get scolded for something you don't even know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frustrating, even.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is why I'm still looking for new work. My ideal job is probably that of a cashier at a supermarket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, until then, I just have to grin and bear it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I have an edge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I play chess &gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you get scolded, play a ducking Ba2, smile, apologise, and attempt to learn. There's this damned co-worker who has been there for 4 years, and hence knows everything. Annoyingly, she thinks she is far superior to a newbie like me, and hence thinks she can scold me for all her worth with every mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;e4! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_|_. Of course &gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah well. Joys of work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday Xin Lan!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NO PRESENT FOR YOU THIS YEAR! &gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7224989087974493925?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7224989087974493925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7224989087974493925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7224989087974493925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7224989087974493925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/05/first-paycheck.html' title='The first Paycheck'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-3878505130297033023</id><published>2007-05-18T22:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T22:41:37.629+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Falcon with a job.</title><content type='html'>So, I got a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working as some kitchen hand at some weird cafe downtown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No training, appear at 11am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get straight to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty terrible, and terrifying, since you don't know what to do, how much the stuff is, and whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it seems like you are supposed to know everything right from the start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Money is good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need to cover that damned rent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was buying a cake for a friend because it was her birthday a few days back. On to Brisbane I went because I had classes there anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, to my surprise, while the cake itself was a little over priced, I had to pay $1 for 2 fricking candles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A pack of candles (I doubt there are 10 inside), would cost me $4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange isn't it? You would think that a birthday cake would come with candles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank god she's only 20. I mean, if she was 59, think of the additional money I had to spend &gt;_&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never buying a cake from that place again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-3878505130297033023?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/3878505130297033023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=3878505130297033023' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/3878505130297033023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/3878505130297033023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/05/falcon-with-job.html' title='A Falcon with a job.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10365863.post-6179090038618543921</id><published>2007-05-04T09:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T10:00:38.845+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The best thing about being a teacher.</title><content type='html'>Is that waking up and hearing one of your students going "I got 41/50! Thanks a lot for your help!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should become a teacher. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-6179090038618543921?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/6179090038618543921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=6179090038618543921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6179090038618543921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6179090038618543921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/05/best-thing-about-being-teacher.html' title='The best thing about being a teacher.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-141574777401113838</id><published>2007-04-30T10:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T11:25:33.528+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bush Bashing.</title><content type='html'>So, as the 4th anniversary of Bush's famous "FISSION MAILED" speech was delivered, everyone can still see that Iraq is still a mess with no way out for a long long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While everyone is still happily bashing Bush and saying how Iraq is in the quicksand etc etc etc, I happen to chance on another side of view which drinking my coffee while avoiding Soccernet after what happened on Saturday (Not. A. Word. &gt;_&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href= "http://blogs.theaustralian.news.com.au/davidnason/index.php/theaustralian/comments/one_iraq_a_pointless_proposition/"&gt;Link&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for once, the spotlight is turned onto someone else, in this case, the UN, has no choice but to step in after 4 years of nonsense. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the UN who opposed the invasion of Iraq, but its security council was totally made fun of when they could do nothing but watch as US tanks moved into Iraq and tore down the Saddam's statue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nason said that partioning the country up would be the best, which, could (hopefully), allow the Sunnis and Shiite to leave in peace when they are seperated from each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something like, when two children are fighting, one way is to send them to their rooms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha. &gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fact is, no one knows how to take care of this crap. Fact is, there's no reasonable solution to this nonsense that Bush has started. Every other solution is terrible, each worse than the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pumping more troops in won't help. The moment the troops left, the killings happen again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, in the light of all this hogwash, there could actually be a solution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Education.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?", I hear you say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In one of the comments, the user said that the people in Iraq should be taught to stop killing each other. This is because as long as hatered for each other is there, the killing will not stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While this is sounding very far fetch, this is actually one way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But feasible?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what will happen now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, I've no freaking clue too. All I see is that this crap will go on, and when my first born arrives into mankind 5/10/20/30 years later, he'll be studying the Iraq war in his history lessons with George Bush being made into History exam questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine: &lt;i&gt;"George Bush should have never sent US troops into invading Iraq. Discuss."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fesible solution now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pull out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously. It's sad, but pulling out is the only way I can seriously see anything happening. This is like a bad poker hand and it is going nowhere but down. It's time to stop the bleeding of foreign troops. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happens then?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warlords will take over Iraq, which is then when the UN/US/whatever should step in and establish democratic relations. Iran would probably get one or two areas as well, but if they don't take over the whole of Iraq or the entire Middle East goes into a war to obtain Iraq for themselves, the rest of the world should count themselves lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since when am I a Iraq war specialist?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But common sense will tell me that condamning UN for finally being forced to step in is not the way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of (Whatever) changed to Garasu no Hana by Iori, the Ending theme of Ikkitousen Dragon Destiny. This anime is rather interesting in that it is a retelling of The Romance of the Three Kingdoms, except in anime form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And given that it is a Shounen anime, there are lots of girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, lots and lots of girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RjVgLzn48bI/AAAAAAAAACI/poPZ9Mly5aY/s1600-h/Ikiitousen.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RjVgLzn48bI/AAAAAAAAACI/poPZ9Mly5aY/s400/Ikiitousen.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059055512372965810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From left (top): Zhou Yun, Guan Yu, Zhuge Liang (LOLI AS ZHUGE LIANG &gt;_&gt;), Zhang Fei.&lt;br /&gt;From left (bottom): Liu Bei, Sun Qian, Lu Meng.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can never read Romance of the Three Kingdoms ever again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kan-san is loosely translated to 关姐....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;_&lt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-141574777401113838?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/141574777401113838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=141574777401113838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/141574777401113838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/141574777401113838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/04/bush-bashing.html' title='Bush Bashing.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RjVgLzn48bI/AAAAAAAAACI/poPZ9Mly5aY/s72-c/Ikiitousen.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10365863.post-9153532301122237615</id><published>2007-04-29T13:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-29T13:43:07.450+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ANZAC day</title><content type='html'>Last Wednesday was ANZAC day in memory of the war heroes during the world war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I got a date to go to Brisbane to watch a movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which, to our horror, is almost fully closed. ;o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is unfortunate, because there are HEAPS of people in Brisbane, but since the shops were closed, many people pretty much had nothing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for those which are open?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are earning big time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, there's this usual guy who does some miming acts in Queen's Street (Think Orchard Road). Usually, he gets his fair share of watchers, but today, he seems to have had some extra batch of people watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same goes for the bowling place, which was open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And same went for the Arcade. it's the first time I've got to play a full 6 way Daytona in a long long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, public holidays means that shops should be closed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-9153532301122237615?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/9153532301122237615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=9153532301122237615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/9153532301122237615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/9153532301122237615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/04/anzac-day.html' title='ANZAC day'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-6594014793008372343</id><published>2007-04-23T07:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T07:48:59.880+08:00</updated><title type='text'>PFA Team of the year.</title><content type='html'>Team of the year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edwin van der Sar&lt;br /&gt;Gary Neville&lt;br /&gt;Nemanja Vidic&lt;br /&gt;Rio Ferdinand&lt;br /&gt;Patrice Evra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ryan Giggs&lt;br /&gt;Paul Scholes&lt;br /&gt;Cristiano Ronaldo&lt;br /&gt;Steven Gerrard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didier Drogba&lt;br /&gt;Dimitar Berbatov&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Man USA dominates the Team of the year. Practically at the back and in Midfield.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just what are the "players" watching this season? I agree with Vidic and Evra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Ferdinand?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terry/Carragher, at LEAST. Damn it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And VdS for goalie is a joke. Ben Foster and even David James had a better season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moreover, a lack of Essien in Midfield is just fail. I don't even care if Lampard isn't on it. Essien is basically the best player this season. A midfielder forced into defense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can Ronaldo do that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-6594014793008372343?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/6594014793008372343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=6594014793008372343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6594014793008372343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6594014793008372343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/04/pfa-team-of-year.html' title='PFA Team of the year.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-439945612039935534</id><published>2007-04-19T10:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T11:23:38.106+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chance of passing their driving test? No chance in hell.</title><content type='html'>I've no idea why channel ten canceled airing of The Contest in favour of some weird show where superstars spend thousands of dollars just to go to some fitness program in LA and get fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, they lose a viewer, and channel 7 gets me as their latest viewer in the usual After-Dinner TV time slot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it happens, it is a premier of some people who can't drive. The preview was "Chance of passing their driving test? No chance in hell."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, 10 people are given the chance to learn to drive. If they learn to drive, they win the car they are given (Hyundai. IT HAS AUTOMATIC WINDOWS AND AIR-CON! OMFG NO WAI! I love pointless ads).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And from the show, you can tell that some people are made to continuously pay the transport government, never to know the true joy of driving a car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like any typical reality show, you are shown the distress of these people, and how much fun they are having in the car. For some strange reason, they are given a manual car to drive (aussie way? Asked a friend. Don't think so). Of course, we all know that Automatic is FTW (it is!), and just watching them struggling with the clutch and god knows what else (YOU ARE IN THIRD! YOU ARE IN THIRD!), I feel sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not for them. I am a moron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The way the car lurched and jumped and made all sorts of weird noise, I feel VERY sorry for the engine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, while that is all happening, you have some frantic driver (8 females and 2 males, I wonder why) trying to maintain control of their car, screaming and shouting away. In Aussie, you don't need a qualified instructor beside you as they do in Singapore, but you must have a Co-driver who has, presumably, driven for quite a period of time. So, usually, this Co-driver is a family member or a good friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family members usually make the most fun stuff, especially when it is husband an wife. They get into arguments etc etc as they discuss, quite heatedly, on when to release the clutch (biting point etc etc etc).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And us the viewers get to laugh at their enjoyment, yelling "Play more Daytona!" or "Keep both hands on the wheel!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I got my license. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for some, they are fated to take public transport for the rest of their lives. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-439945612039935534?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/439945612039935534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=439945612039935534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/439945612039935534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/439945612039935534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/04/chance-of-passing-their-driving-test-no.html' title='Chance of passing their driving test? No chance in hell.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-734895907389193693</id><published>2007-04-11T13:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T13:26:35.885+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Movie world.</title><content type='html'>And so, it is the easter holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, why not go to the movie world?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big Mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heading to Wet N Wild the day before was much more enjoyable, because it was way more fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad the damned cross winds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movie World, on the other hand, had only like, 3 rides which were interesting. However, due to rain, they closed off the Superman ride for a bit, but with only 1 coaster every time, queues for that ride is extremely long. The other one, where it is a Batman shuttle to space or something, forces you to stand in queue for half an hour, then they just shook you like you're milk for 15 seconds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Booooring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so the rides are boring as hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then what about the merchandise?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RhxweU8rFQI/AAAAAAAAABw/1vRPWCA8b64/s1600-h/DSC02121.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RhxweU8rFQI/AAAAAAAAABw/1vRPWCA8b64/s400/DSC02121.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052036548324431106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/Rhxwe08rFRI/AAAAAAAAAB4/VXby2AAQuiY/s1600-h/DSC02122.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/Rhxwe08rFRI/AAAAAAAAAB4/VXby2AAQuiY/s400/DSC02122.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052036556914365714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, movie world was a pretty crappy experience. Head in once, never to return ever again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The trip, itself, was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting, to say at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I got a muck on my hands now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The hardest battles are the ones which involve love&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quick pic here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RhxxUk8rFSI/AAAAAAAAACA/OaFwQi_dJMk/s1600-h/DSC02160a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RhxxUk8rFSI/AAAAAAAAACA/OaFwQi_dJMk/s400/DSC02160a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052037480332334370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blogbanner changed to something from Shinkyoku Soukai Polyphonica. The caps were too good not to be used. On a side note, I have recently obtained a Final Fantasy XI complete collection, which included the piano collection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I've already chucked it away, it shows how great it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life without Nobou is tough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-734895907389193693?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/734895907389193693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=734895907389193693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/734895907389193693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/734895907389193693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/04/movie-world.html' title='Movie world.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RhxweU8rFQI/AAAAAAAAABw/1vRPWCA8b64/s72-c/DSC02121.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10365863.post-7138023681023954925</id><published>2007-04-04T13:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T13:25:10.195+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Retirement is so neat.</title><content type='html'>Yes. Yes it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href= "http://www.channelnewsasia.com/stories/afp_asiapacific/view/268347/1/.html"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Indonesian police find JI charts, command structure&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I've seen the "best" after the "A TO Z DESU" thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Indonesia does one better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charts of JI command structure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, who's CEO, director of shareholders and manager of the bombing squads?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I do not doubt that these damned terrorist have some kind of a command structure, but to actually DISCOVER one being written would be laughable. C'mon, who's going to believe that some very nicely drawn chart (What, no smiling photos too?) just happens to be lying around?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is the public immune to the news to the extent to where raids to seize weapons and bombs become a secondary mention? And, why are these charts are drawn in the first place. You would have thought that only the people important enough will know the names. There's no need to have a chart, especially something that tangible can be picked up (as it has) by the police.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it was a statement from one of the detainees, then it can be trusted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a chart?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sure hope they aren't associating Terrorist cell groups with business groups -_-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7138023681023954925?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7138023681023954925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7138023681023954925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7138023681023954925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7138023681023954925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/04/retirement-is-so-neat.html' title='Retirement is so neat.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-1734541465194053125</id><published>2007-04-02T11:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T11:10:14.054+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Haircut ;o</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RhB0AaQosTI/AAAAAAAAABo/i5jJWP80TmY/s1600-h/DSC00008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RhB0AaQosTI/AAAAAAAAABo/i5jJWP80TmY/s400/DSC00008.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048662732680245554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Easter break is coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time for a change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;_&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-1734541465194053125?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/1734541465194053125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=1734541465194053125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1734541465194053125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1734541465194053125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/04/haircut-o.html' title='Haircut ;o'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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://bp3.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RhB0AaQosTI/AAAAAAAAABo/i5jJWP80TmY/s72-c/DSC00008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10365863.post-4510943816690929873</id><published>2007-04-01T12:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-04-01T12:11:27.158+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boring April Fools</title><content type='html'>Nothing from Gamefaqs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing from Blizzard. (.999~ = 1 is still my favourite one)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TokyoTosho has the same thing they did last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe April Fools has lost its interest. You can only really do so many things for so long before it becomes stupid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-4510943816690929873?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/4510943816690929873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=4510943816690929873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4510943816690929873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4510943816690929873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/04/boring-april-fools.html' title='Boring April Fools'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-8539012620398002849</id><published>2007-03-27T09:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-27T09:27:12.690+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Autumn.</title><content type='html'>The winds are picking up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The insects are harvesting whatever bits left in preparation for the cold days ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nights are freezing, while the days are becoming cooler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Autumn, has arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least, in a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But bloody hell, with the cold winds the past 2 days, it feels like Autumn has arrived already. No more revealing clothes (Nuuuu), and almost everyone is wearing long pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Autumn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to enjoy the cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An opportunity lost? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or an opportunity gained?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mess-up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or a chance hidden?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever it maybe,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not ready yet. -_-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GO FREEDOM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(what's with me an poetry today? &gt;_&gt;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-8539012620398002849?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/8539012620398002849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=8539012620398002849' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8539012620398002849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8539012620398002849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/03/autumn.html' title='Autumn.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-7084594946256010918</id><published>2007-03-26T08:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T08:36:40.737+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Broadband Solution in Australia.</title><content type='html'>Now this is a cute topic. Anyone who has seen or heard my rants will know that the internet in down under is so bad, it isn't even funny. It's like living in a third world these days, no water, no half-decent internet.... etc etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I was pleasantly surprised when the leader of the opposition Federal party announced that they will introduce broadband to everyone if they are elected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Presently, ADSL2+ are only available to the major (usually capital) cities, so anywhere further (like me, which is actually only 45 minutes from the city) are stuck with some copper wire crap ADSL1. 1500/256 connection is what we have. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don't really mind the speed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I am very very annoyed with is the service provided. Somehow, the modem always loses sync with the exchange, resulting in frequent internet downtimes which is very frustrating at times, especially when you really need the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, should I be a small business operating over the internet, this issue will be even more annoying for me. How am I supposed to sell/buy my stuff on Ebay with such a terrible connection? How am I supposed to communicate with Clients over such a noisy pipe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, the only thing holding back will be the cost. It's going to be very expensive to lay optic fiber cables over such a large land space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, if optic fiber isn't possible, then, please, at least, do something about those damned price. $100+ a month for an unlimited 1500/256 connection gets me laughed at no matter who I talk to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7084594946256010918?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7084594946256010918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7084594946256010918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7084594946256010918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7084594946256010918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/03/broadband-solution-in-australia.html' title='Broadband Solution in Australia.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-5345854361477387308</id><published>2007-03-19T19:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-19T20:01:15.501+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's difficult enough getting a job as a foreigner here.</title><content type='html'>A shop in the nearby town center has placed up a sign for help during Saturdays and Public Holidays. As I am somewhere along the lines of "Super" and "Duper" free on either one of the criteria, I walked in and decided to apply for the job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only to find out that they are hiring "Junior Staff".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which means, High school students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because we Uni students have a minimum wage."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;_&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meeh, they charge over $7 a meal, and they are unwilling to pay me $12+ an hour, which would just about cover my rent every week. $12 may seem a lot, but its actually quite low, given the high standard of living here. Meals can easily go over $10 if you are not careful ($8 is more realistic, but if you want something better, it will be over $10).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hence, I am still unemployed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I need to start hitting the newspapers. Just looking and waiting after submitting resumes are just too annoying, since they probably won't call back. Given that I've heard nothing from even Subway thus far, I can say that it's time to take more drastic measures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-5345854361477387308?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/5345854361477387308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=5345854361477387308' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5345854361477387308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5345854361477387308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/03/its-difficult-enough-getting-job-as.html' title='It&apos;s difficult enough getting a job as a foreigner here.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-2708968439781358189</id><published>2007-03-16T06:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-16T07:23:29.074+08:00</updated><title type='text'>An amazing confession.</title><content type='html'>"I R RESPONSIBLE FOR THE 9/11 ATTACKS. A TO Z!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I R RESPONSIBLE FOR GLOBAL WARMING TOO!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, while the world is still struck by the amazing confession, already, there are people who doubt it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://blogs.theaustralian.news.com.au/yoursay/index.php/theaustralian/comments/khalids_incredible_confession"&gt;The Australian comment site&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I agree, at least, to what some of them are saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ie, that the US made a mistake, again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LoL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To have a guy who will confess to just about everything in a night will do nothing but sow question marks in everyone's minds. Khalid might have very well done all these horrible crimes, or at least, had a hand in them, but to have him confessing that he has planned them all will be seen by others as the White House's desperation to show US, and the world, that the terror war is being "won".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And no, it isn't the press who is going overboard, inventing things or "filling in the gaps". Having spent lunch time yesterday reading the entire transcript (blame boredom. XD) posted on CNN's website, they are all part of a confession writted by Khalid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what really surprised me was the "A to Z" part. While the rest of the confession does not use any extra words to add to their impact (For example, &lt;i&gt;"4. I was responsible for the Shoe Bomber Operation to down two American Airplanes"&lt;/i&gt;. So, if this guy has shown us what a wonderful vocabulary he has, why doesn't he flower every single one of his operations? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But how would the US have made his confession more believable? Allowing bits and pieces to come out would have had roughly the same effect if given too quickly, although, perhaps, not as huge as dumping a "bomb shell" in one night (NKF scandal. Bits and pieces everyday has worked to an extent.) What the White House should have done is to drop them once in a while, not too quickly to be seen as too eager, but enough to keep the public interested. It's pretty much media relations which the US has failed at. Yes, this is huge news, but given the credibility of US in the past few years, anything they say will be placed under the microscope. There are people who won't believe a word coming from the US, whether it was due to Iraq or it was due to the person's upbringing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the US has, once again, shot herself in the foot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And by the way, I found something amusing in those comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"So, the head is caught. The war of terror is over."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only that were so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-2708968439781358189?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/2708968439781358189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=2708968439781358189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2708968439781358189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2708968439781358189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/03/amazing-confession.html' title='An amazing confession.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-2869136805273356106</id><published>2007-03-13T17:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T18:13:21.450+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A teaching Falcon, day 1.</title><content type='html'>So, it was the first day of my... uh... job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is truly coming to an end. XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was teamed up with this guy called Martin, who is supposed to be very experienced in teaching these consultation sessions. These sessions are pretty much like tutorial classes, except it is taught by us students because we might have a few tips and we have done this course (and got a fairly decent result for it too).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Initially, Martin ran the introduction as I just stood in a corner. Since no one had any questions, we allowed them to work on a question prepared by the coordinator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And immediately, my skills were called to the test. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One girl had no idea what to do, and despite us asking a few times if any one had any problems, she didn't say a thing. However, instead of the long winded crap which was given in the lecture for CVP, I just taught her how to use algebra to solve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And whoa, she's breezing through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first success!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hurrah! \o/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lesson, lasting only for an hour, came and went pretty quickly. The lesson ended pretty dryly, but it is only 9am in the morning, and everyone is still probably half-asleep... Or at least, I was. Besides, chapter 1 stuff are always piss boring, and it will be at least a few chapters before they venture into balance sheets where it will be truly fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, it felt pretty weird teaching my housemates. While we did act professionally (no random squeals and giggles), I felt pretty weird teaching them, since my housemates are actually here before I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here I am, teaching a bunch of people I'll meet during dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention, they know where I stay too...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world, is truly ending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least, for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-2869136805273356106?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/2869136805273356106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=2869136805273356106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2869136805273356106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2869136805273356106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/03/teaching-falcon-day-1.html' title='A teaching Falcon, day 1.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-6593663685612633111</id><published>2007-03-12T00:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T00:15:45.620+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Level 5 water restrictions</title><content type='html'>Level 5 water restrictions are going to hit this place very soon, probably in a few weeks or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Under the restrictions, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-We can't wash our car/boat, but one may bring it to a car wash. Washing of mirrors allowed.&lt;br /&gt;-Can only water our gardens at specific times and only twice a week (Tuesday/Saturday or Wednesday/Sunday, between 4am to 8am).&lt;br /&gt;-If we use too much water, we have to write a report stating as to why we are using so much water.&lt;br /&gt;-Everyone are only allowed 4 minute showers (How they're going to enforce it, is beyond me).&lt;br /&gt;-No more outdoor showers. &lt;br /&gt;-Swimming pools are probably the heaviest hit because they must be filled using their own water, not the town's supply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so on. There are a few more, but I think these are the ones which look interesting. For one, swimming in recycled water would be fun, but otherwise, actually filling up the pool (Town supply is cheaper/free) with your own water is really going to hurt. Same goes for spas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, gardens are pretty much screwed, due to a restriction on plants. Reports of nurseries closing down rapidly are pretty much in the news, but this will hit everyone hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, the proposed 4 minute showers. XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The government is doing their part by asking shows to educate the public on how to save water, with checklists in newspapers and rather detailed visual guides on things which can be done. Of course, some companies will try to cash in on this, for example, an ad says that Dishwashers are said to save water much more effectively than washing of dishes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if that's true....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, the water restrictions will come into effect soon. Thank god I don't have a car, or a garden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Changed the banner to Momoko, from the series Sumomomo Momomo. Was doing some caps, and this curve turned out too well to be wasted. XD&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-6593663685612633111?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/6593663685612633111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=6593663685612633111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6593663685612633111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6593663685612633111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/03/level-5-water-restrictions.html' title='Level 5 water restrictions'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-2615248793468741752</id><published>2007-03-09T13:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T14:01:11.833+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A teaching Falcon....?</title><content type='html'>Mmm, got selected to teach a consultation course on basic accounting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world is coming to an end, I tell you. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of (whatever) changed to Persephone IPCC_3927 (: Battle) by Noriyasu Agematsu from the Wild Arms the Vth Vanguard Original Score Vol. 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-2615248793468741752?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/2615248793468741752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=2615248793468741752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2615248793468741752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2615248793468741752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/03/teaching-falcon.html' title='A teaching Falcon....?'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-6203667222537504125</id><published>2007-03-02T22:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T22:42:51.082+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's back to school!</title><content type='html'>It's a happy and heartful school life! - Happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only it was true. XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went through 6 pictures for front, but I settled on this one because the picture was pretty funny, and would make quite a lot of sense if I combined it with a class room picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go Sia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go school!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go me...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-6203667222537504125?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/6203667222537504125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=6203667222537504125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6203667222537504125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6203667222537504125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/03/its-back-to-school.html' title='It&apos;s back to school!'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-5113347144054548683</id><published>2007-02-27T11:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T11:56:56.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And so, it begins.</title><content type='html'>...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem this time is that with 2 new people in the house, the house is very very crowded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And let's not talk about the fridge. &gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, everything is fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flew on Qantas, and I must say that the service I received was appalling. I knew something was going to be wrong when the air stewardess slammed that air mask on the seat in front of me loudly, because I happen to be sleeping through their safety procedure, which is the same for every flight I'm on, despite them saying that it was otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Food wasn't too fantastic, but at least it was served with a smile. When sleep time came on, I decided to take a walk, and was greeted with a smile as well as I walked around the plane to stretch, since I don't sleep easy on planes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When sleep finally came while I was watching CSI, they somehow slammed the damned trolley into my seat about half an hour later. Not that I would mind, but the stewardess never even stopped by to say sorry. &gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll try not to fly Qantas next time &gt;_&lt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-5113347144054548683?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/5113347144054548683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=5113347144054548683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5113347144054548683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5113347144054548683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/02/and-so-it-begins.html' title='And so, it begins.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-1223456146617061648</id><published>2007-02-24T02:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-24T02:34:21.822+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Farewell.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/Rd8zWVN4VUI/AAAAAAAAAA8/N76A8g3MDFA/s1600-h/Bye1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/Rd8zWVN4VUI/AAAAAAAAAA8/N76A8g3MDFA/s400/Bye1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5034799367169004866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holiday is finally over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time to get back to work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you all, for everything in these two months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of (whatever) changed to Suteki da ne from the Final Fantasy X Piano collection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've a reason to put this song up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See everyone at the end of the year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-1223456146617061648?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/1223456146617061648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=1223456146617061648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1223456146617061648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/1223456146617061648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/02/farewell.html' title='Farewell.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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/_7GCpPy6JJE8/Rd8zWVN4VUI/AAAAAAAAAA8/N76A8g3MDFA/s72-c/Bye1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10365863.post-7642587698283814277</id><published>2007-02-22T01:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T01:59:03.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'>*The starless skies seem to rear its grim face to Falcon a little too often these days.</title><content type='html'>Gone were the days where the lady moon would caress his face, the stars glittering in their places, their light dancing across their dark night stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, all there is on top of Falcon is an empty, gloomy stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gone was his kingdom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The death of his father, who ruled for years with peace, left the kingdom divided. While Falcon’s father was enjoying life, his advisors were planning the very next step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, with the death, Falcon found himself suddenly surrounded by enemies. Men, who were loyal to his house, suddenly discovered a taste towards the riches many associate nobility with (even though they are wrong about this, while being right with everything else such as it is very very stressful). In fact, it was pure luck and bravery of whatever men he had still loyal to him which allowed him to escape from the assassination attempt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then, the kingdom was thrown into chaos, as with anything that does not have a leader, because everyone will attempt to place their asses on that seat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As of present, there are three major powers, with another two more who are in the shadows, biding their time to strike when someone slips up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, there is Falcon, the true heir to the throne. As long as he’s alive, anyone’s claim to the throne can be invalidated at anytime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yet, does it really matter any more? Who cares who the king is? Who cares who rules the kingdoms?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who cares?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falcon is just sick of it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sighing, Falcon sat down beside a tree, exhausted from the day’s journey. The rough ground will make another painful night, but at least, the winds are kind. With luck, it will be a nice dreamless sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If not…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falcon prepared to lie down to take a rest from his journey towards nowhere, his ears, trained to perfection since he was young, heard a noise he was too used to hearing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instinctively, Falcon leaped back, watching as his mind started dreading what was about to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The soft shrill of an arrow traveling through the air could only mean one thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assassins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The arrow stuck the tree with a loud “Thuck”, as if it was confirming Falcon’s fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Not again.” Falcon almost groaned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, as his mind protested, his body was already moving, hardened by years the training his Father forced him through. His hand grabbed the hilt of his long sword, Eclipse, unsheathing with one quick practiced movement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well well. We meet at last.” An all too familiar voice echoed through the area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sir Kevin.” Falcon replied curtly, recognizing the voice of one who had imbedded the same skills into him since he was five.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet another friend whose loyalties are as cheap as the gold he has been brought with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side-stepping and bringing up Eclipse to block the attack, Falcon looked deep into the eyes of his mentor and long-time friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All he found was, nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The spark his eyes had when he laughed. The way his eyes gleamed when Falcon executed a move perfectly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Replaced by two deep black pools of emptiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin’s soul was lost the moment he had been brought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side-stepping once again, Falcon tried stab Kevin by attacking from the sides. When that was parried, Falcon immediately feinted an attack on the other, before returning for a quick jab back on the original side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, as the teacher, Kevin knew all Falcon’s tricks and easily countered the attack by stepping away from the jab, while bringing his sword up at the same time to attack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falcon backed off immediately, knowing full well the strength of Kevin. Although Falcon was the younger of the two, Kevin was hardened by the many tourneys and wars he had been through. A young chick like Falcon isn’t going to fool Kevin easily. In fact, one wrong move by Falcon, and he could be facing the wrong side of the sword.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s going to come right down to stamina. The one who can last the longest, will eventually starve out this battle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, Kevin knew of his own physical limitations, attacking only when he needs to, while placing a sense of urgency in his attacks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, as Falcon sidestepped away from yet another attack, he felt his feet catching a root. Losing his balance, Falcon found earth rushing straight at him like a horse running at him at full gallop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually, he would not have been so silly as to have tripped on a root. However, as a combination of despair, sadness and exhaustion weighed on his mind, Falcon’s usually sharp senses made a mistake of ignoring the root he had noticed earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That mistake, is going to cost Falcon his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within a blink of an eye, Kevin was on top of him, his sword ready to plunge and rid this world of Falcon. Falcon closed his eyes as he waited for the inevitable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first time in a long while, he felt at peace, as he finally realized that everything, is going to end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just not the way he would like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He waited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And heard a scream and a thud instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“My lord, are you alright?” another familiar voice came floating in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falcon opened his eyes to see yet another familiar face bearing on him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Lady Rose?” Falcon murmured, his mind still unable to comprehend what had just happened as he pushed himself up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And saw Kevin’s body a few feet away, his sword beside him, while another sword was placed firmly where his heart was, if he had one at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“My lord, I feared I was too late. Thank the gods I made it in time.” Rose said, a nervous quiver in her voice that was full of dread and relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falcon shook his head to clear the cobwebs inside that had entangled themselves from that fall. Looking around, all he saw were people with torches, each revealing concerned face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Concerned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And friendly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“After you escaped, we gathered what’s left of the men and tried finding you. It was pure luck that I heard your voice in these silent woods.” Rose explained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking around, Falcon felt something he had not felt in a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The feeling of a family being beside him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The feeling of friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, his duty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falcon can’t die yet. As long as one person who is still loyal to him remains, he has a duty to fulfill. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A duty, not to himself, but to these people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to his father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smiling for the first time in a long time, Falcon walked towards the people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Let’s do this.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Because it’s going to take more than that, to stop me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around him, the people smiled. No cheers were heard, for none was needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Falcon sheathed Eclipse as he repeated the words once more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s going to take more than that, to stop me.” *&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to take more than THAT, to stop me. &gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bring it on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7642587698283814277?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7642587698283814277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7642587698283814277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7642587698283814277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7642587698283814277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/02/starless-skies-seem-to-rear-its-grim.html' title='*The starless skies seem to rear its grim face to Falcon a little too often these days.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-376549603006000382</id><published>2007-02-18T23:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-18T23:12:07.850+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Chinese New Year! \o/</title><content type='html'>The day where your parents actually go out with you till one in the morning because they are doing stuff at the temple. ;o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But putting the first joss stick was pretty fun. \o/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, all those 4D numbers. &gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, the number of Devotees at the Bugis Temple is pretty insane. All those people who are holding those huge Joss Sticks and pushing their way in. It will take, at least, an hour or two, to get in. And the "survivors" come out with their hair full of ash and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, what surprised me is the people who are selling Joss Sticks outside. I don't mind the Joss Stick being sold at $2, because they are pretty big.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did surprise me was those barrels of flames used to light the Joss Stick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oil is placed in a Milo tin, and a piece of paper was used to light the flame. The flame will stay in the milo tin because that's where all the oil is. These tins are placed openly on edges of tables...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...which can topple over easily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to add to the list of fire hazards, there are people selling plants right beside them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With nothing that looks like a fire fighting equipment in sight, all it takes is one careless topple, and the whole street will become a huge fiery chaos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I think this is a common practise every year, it is simply disaster waiting to happen. I'm surprised no one talked about it yet, even more so given the volume of human traffic in that area. Must we always see preventable accidents occur, before having preventive measures?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sure hope not. Human lives are not for experimenting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-376549603006000382?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/376549603006000382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=376549603006000382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/376549603006000382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/376549603006000382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/02/happy-chinese-new-year-o.html' title='Happy Chinese New Year! \o/'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-5481755707615907218</id><published>2007-02-15T00:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-15T00:21:42.142+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Google looks like Googe!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RdM2-VN4VTI/AAAAAAAAAAw/U_ayk-4rDRs/s1600-h/valentine07.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RdM2-VN4VTI/AAAAAAAAAAw/U_ayk-4rDRs/s400/valentine07.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031425653178127666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truth!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-5481755707615907218?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/5481755707615907218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=5481755707615907218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5481755707615907218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5481755707615907218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/02/google-looks-like-googe.html' title='Google looks like Googe!'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RdM2-VN4VTI/AAAAAAAAAAw/U_ayk-4rDRs/s72-c/valentine07.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10365863.post-836550648721316667</id><published>2007-02-14T03:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-14T03:07:19.334+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RdIL_lN4VRI/AAAAAAAAAAU/hn1YJA3PqTA/s1600-h/Valentine%27s+Day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RdIL_lN4VRI/AAAAAAAAAAU/hn1YJA3PqTA/s400/Valentine%27s+Day.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031096920676259090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RdIL_lN4VQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GMHTnc3df3M/s1600-h/Valentine%27s+Day+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RdIL_lN4VQI/AAAAAAAAAAM/GMHTnc3df3M/s400/Valentine%27s+Day+3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031096920676259074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;_&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually made a few more, but I ditched them away. LoL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many reasons why, but...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the actual one this year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What happened to last year?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in a strange state of mind last year anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RdIMT1N4VSI/AAAAAAAAAAc/HecQwMk3nDg/s1600-h/Valentine%27s+Day.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RdIMT1N4VSI/AAAAAAAAAAc/HecQwMk3nDg/s400/Valentine%27s+Day.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031097268568610082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-836550648721316667?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/836550648721316667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=836550648721316667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/836550648721316667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/836550648721316667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/02/valentines-day.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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/_7GCpPy6JJE8/RdIL_lN4VRI/AAAAAAAAAAU/hn1YJA3PqTA/s72-c/Valentine%27s+Day.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10365863.post-6963362539611031528</id><published>2007-02-12T20:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-11T02:09:35.510+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Plans for the 14th.</title><content type='html'>-Play Total War 2.&lt;br /&gt;-i.e. Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nc6.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your move. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-6963362539611031528?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/6963362539611031528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=6963362539611031528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6963362539611031528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6963362539611031528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/02/plans-for-14th.html' title='Plans for the 14th.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-7347525362769183543</id><published>2007-02-11T01:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-11T02:08:28.411+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cultures.</title><content type='html'>In the newspapers today (It's always the newspapers. I always find something fascinating to rant on. Give a guess why.), there was a sub-editor who is studying Japanese in Kyoto. She mentions how "unnerving" her experience at a Medical Center in Japan is, due to their politeness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, some of you may know that I enjoy Animes and quite a bit of Japanese music. However, I do not think that this is a way to my defending Japan in anyway. I just didn't like how the article is written.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I'm very sure that staff in a medical center will not say "Gomen nasai" before they jab a needle into one's arm. "Shitsurei shimashita", which means "excuse me", but can also be translated to "I'm sorry", would most likely be used. The same goes with the phrase "Otsukaresama deshita" which was said when this sub-editor walked out after her medical checkup. It can mean many things, usually used for "Thank you (for coming)" or "Thank you (for your work)".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, this article decided to use the latter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's weird, because as anyone who translates would know, that it is the MEANING that is important. There's no way you can translate language A to language B word for word, and to still have it making some sort of sense. Besides, how does one translate "Yoroshiku", the japanese equivalent of 请多多指教? In fansubs, most people translate it as "Nice to meet you", because "Please teach me more", or "Please take care of me" for its Japanese counterpart, usually won't make sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By talking to two friends who both have a JLPT 1 qualifications, and one who is currently studying in Japan right now, we've come to the conclusion that Japanese do not say "Sorry" just for every other thing. Rather, it is their culture, and the way they use it. For example, "Watashi" is used mostly by girls, while "Ore" is used by guys. (Note that quite a few male anime watchers use "Watashi" because that's the only thing they hear the girls saying. XD. And if I hear you calling me "-chan", I'll , quite frankly, smack you. XD)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the same for Japanese. They could have used "Ano-ne", "sumimasen", "gomen nasai" and "shitrei shimashita", all which can mean "excuse me". However, the context, and the meaning, for each, is quite different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That aside, I was wondering why the article was being so negative with the Japanese's culture of saying "excuse me" and "sorry". With a title going by "Saying 'sorry' comes easily", one does get an impression that Japanese says sorry without truly meaning it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that isn't it. It's just their culture, and nothing is wrong with mannerism. What is wrong with a nurse telling you to inform her should you feel faint when your blood is being taken out, which is compared to the cold attitude of Singapore nurses who just stab their needles into your veins, pump the red goo out, and walk off? One cannot expect to go to another country, and expect everything to be done the same way as it is done back in one's home country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a country where racial harmony is so important, such an article showed blatant disrespect for another's culture. This is even more so as it is published in the State's newspaper, a front where it should be showing the public how it is done, instead of setting a bad example of it. With Singapore's neighbours already bringing the house down with all these disputes, Singapore would do well not to make yet another enemy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to do that, will require lots of understanding and respect for another's culture.  Even more so, when they are actually showing politeness to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because, quite frankly, it could be, much, much worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trust me on that. &gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;_&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;_&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tough days ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to shoulder them and play this game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7347525362769183543?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7347525362769183543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7347525362769183543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7347525362769183543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7347525362769183543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/02/cultures.html' title='Cultures.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-5942356545717845868</id><published>2007-02-07T23:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T00:38:54.890+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vista, a cause for all PC gamers to cheer?</title><content type='html'>Microsoft launched their Vista last week here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, Digital Life labeled said that it will give PC gamers a cause to cheer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking someone a quote right out from someone who knows the Gaming Industry, Jeff "CJayC" Veasey, who operates and had once owned (He sold it to CNet, but still has the sole usage of it), "Vista will be the death of PC gaming."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I agree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's go back a bit for a history of PC gaming. Back in the late 90s, PC gaming was rampant, peaking in the years 2000 and 2001 where LAN gaming was so common, there are Lan shops opening right beside each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, back then, everyone is still on their 56k dialup modems. PC gaming then, enabled people to play with other humans, instead of some random robot on the PC. It also added a lot of replay value to games. Even with the release of PlayStation 2, PC games had never suffered any true setbacks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or well, a few years ago, when Microsoft launched its Halo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past, some games are known to be "Console" games while some will be designated as "PC" games. The former include RPGs and Driving simulators. The latter would be Real-Time Strategy (RTS) and First Person shooter (FPS) games. In fact, PC gaming was so common, RPGs, a game associated with Consoles back to the days of the Nintendo Super Famicom, moved into the PC market (Final Fantasy VII and VIII) to get a slice of the pie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halo was one of the first true FPS games you can really play on the console. In the past, console FPS games bombed so badly, it isn't even funny to see great companies losing such money. The reason is simply because a controller cannot defeat a mouse, period. In fact, reviews of Rainbow 6: Rogue Spear, named "Game of the Year" by many magazines for the PC version, was a testimony to how bad a controller is when compared to a mouse because by the time you turned around with a controller, you're dead (Rainbow 6: Rogue Spear uses a very famous "One shot, one kill" style.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, recently, many FPS games are created for the consoles, and then ported over to PC, instead of being the other way around, or even, PC exclusive. The results are crap such as Rainbow 6: Lock down, which did well for the Game Cube, but was a joke in the PC because of it's difficulty. Even some semi-shooting games such as Grand Theft Auto was seriously too easy at times in the PC version.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, we PC gamers won't really see a change. With Unreal Tournament 2007 being renamed as Unreal Tournament 3 because of it's eventual ports over to the PS3 and Xbox360, and many other true PC only games defecting to the consoles (Rainbow 6: Vegas. Oh, how far you have fallen, one of my favourite series...), we are, truly, witnessing an extinction of PC gaming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And no, Vista is not going to do anything to help it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DirectX 10. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DirectX, an important visual component, which many games design their games on, will become more and more standard as the games begin to develop. With many recent games already going "Only Pixel Shader Model 3.0" (Which means any graphic cards which are roughly 2 years old won't run it), people will be forced to upgrade their computers if they are ever going to want to play games which are beginning to produce more and more eye-candy, but really not much in-game content which could ever justify their ever growing requirement for size.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, it's worthy to note that the cards themselves don't come cheap, at least, for now. The Nivida 8800 is so going to cost over $700 according to the HardwareZone Singapore price guide (Which means it will be more down in Sim Lim).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note that while, for now, one can play DirectX10 enabled games out of the box with DirectX9.x cards, how long, before we see an extinction of DirectX9 cards? As I've mentioned, Tom Clancy's Rainbow 6: Las Vegas, only supports cards which has Pixel Shader 3.0. DirectX10 allows Pixel Shader 4.0, and it will only be a matter of time before it too, gets chucked aside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, one can upgrade, and by the time Pixel Shader 3.0 becomes extinct, DirectX10 cards will become much cheaper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it isn't just a case of buying a card.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has now become a case of buying an entire new Windows (Over $700 for Ultimate. Basic edition is really really "basic" to a point where you should just stick with XP).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moreover, why buy a card when it could become extinct within mere weeks? New cards and hardware just keep coming out, and new cards are all PCI express, which will require a PCI-Express motherboard, a SATA-2 Hard Drive, and a DDR2 RAMs and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like buying a new computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, people will say that upgrading your computer can help you watch HDTV movies, listen to music, and whatever illegal activities which is commonly associated with file-sharing these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, the issue here is, PC games will die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, some games such as RTS and MMORPGs will keep the PC games alive, just as Super Mario, Pokemon and Donkey Kong kept Nintendo alive while Microsoft and Sony were battling out (Note that Wii is said to have outsold PS3 in some areas. Not that I'm surprised...). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, as consoles have sacked one of the PC gamers' haven of FPS, there's no telling when MMORPGs and RTS can be played on consoles. After all, one clear edge of PC games, multiplay-ability, has been broken down with the introduction of internet to consoles, such as Microsoft Live service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good bye, PC gaming. That piece of brick will soon be turned into one which will, even more, be associated with pirated activities, or plotting graphs, something it was made to be done in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of (Whatever) changed to A Happy Life by Hayashibara Megumi, Gakuen Utopia Manabi Straight's Opening Theme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song by itself, is very meaningful. I've placed it's lyrics and my guesslation below. However, &lt;a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Megumi_Hayashibara&gt;Hayashibara Megumi&lt;/a&gt; still sounds like she's 20 even though she's 40. I still have her Sharman King OP/EDs, which are still one of my favourite songs of all time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, she's 40, and one of the most, if the THE most, famous VAs around. She has slowed down some after giving birth to her daughter, but still regularly voices Haibara in the long running Detective Conan series.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The anime itself is one of the better ones in this very weak Winter season. It shows what a student council is supposed to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually bond students together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One should not join the student council/union for the sole reason of getting CCA points or furthering one's political ambitions!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moreover, this anime actually shows that the council people actually working together, and not creating all those goddamned groups. Also, the teachers ARE actually HELPING the student council, not heaping shit on them at every turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, there's a reason why it's called an anime. &gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Happy Life (Gakuen Utopia Manabi Straight Opening Theme)&lt;br /&gt;By: Hayashibara Megumi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Translator's note: This is a song, and I do not claim to have perfect knowledge of Japanese. I will get something wrong here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ほら　振り向いても　もういないよ&lt;br /&gt;チャンスなんてね　そんなものだと&lt;br /&gt;あおられても　動けない時だってあるの&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;そうこれも全て君のために言うことだよ&lt;br /&gt;でもゴメンネ　納得しないこと&lt;br /&gt;簡単にはうなずけない&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;嘘でその場をうまくやりすごしても　きっとくやむから&lt;br /&gt;過去も未来ももちるん今も　全て背負うの自分だもの悩もう&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;もう出ておいでよ&lt;br /&gt;閉じ込もってるその背中に　声かけても&lt;br /&gt;すぐは無理だね　私にもおぼえはある&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;やさしちの意味はむずかしい&lt;br /&gt;いいと思い　かけた言葉&lt;br /&gt;思いがけず　傷つけることがあるかも&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;でもあきらあないで話しかけたい　言葉にがいても&lt;br /&gt;だって何度も思い知ってる　誰も一人では生きてないよ　いつも&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;なぜ　大なことは一度に来る&lt;br /&gt;選ぱなくちゃ　どちらがいい　どちらもいい&lt;br /&gt;あなたなら　ちあどうする&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;あとでわかるよ　全ての意味が　今はわからなくても&lt;br /&gt;苦しみも幸せも秘密も　だから　なげないで抱きしめていこう　ずっと&lt;br /&gt;It’s my life　だから！&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hora furimui te mo moui nai yo &lt;br /&gt;chansu nante ne sonna mono da to &lt;br /&gt;aora re te mo ugoke nai toki datte aru no &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sou kore mo subete kimi no tame ni iu koto da yo &lt;br /&gt;demo gomenne nattoku shi nai koto &lt;br /&gt;kantan ni wa unazuke nai &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;uso de sono ba o umaku yarisugoshi te mo kitto kuyamu kara &lt;br /&gt;kako mo mirai mo mochirun ima mo subete seou no jibun da mono nayamou &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mou de te oi de yo &lt;br /&gt;tojikomotteru sono senaka ni koe kake te mo &lt;br /&gt;sugu wa muri da ne watashi ni mo oboe wa aru &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ya sa shi sano imi wamuzukashii &lt;br /&gt;ii to omoi kake ta kotoba &lt;br /&gt;omoigake zu kizutsukeru koto ga aru kamo &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;demo akira anai de hanashikake tai kotoba nigai te mo &lt;br /&gt;datte nan do mo omoishitteru dare mo hito de wa ikite nai yo itsumo &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;naze dai na koto wa ichi do ni kuru &lt;br /&gt;sen banakucha dochira ga ii dochira mo ii &lt;br /&gt;anata nara saa dou suru &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ato de wakaru yo subete no imi ga ima wa wakara naku te mo &lt;br /&gt;kurushimi mo shiawase mo himitsu mo da kara nage nai de dakishime te ikou zutto &lt;br /&gt;It’s my life da kara!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey, it’s time to look back. &lt;br /&gt;Because the chance to do so has not passed. No matter what happens,&lt;br /&gt;There’s a time to stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That’s right, all these words are for you.&lt;br /&gt;But, I’m sorry. &lt;br /&gt;The parts which I do not understand, I can only nod and say yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By using lies to slide past, I’ll only regret it later.&lt;br /&gt;Unable to surpass the present, or the future, I am only betraying myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s time to come forth.&lt;br /&gt;By closing yourself, you are merely backing away from the voice which is behind you.&lt;br /&gt;Even as impossible approaches, I’ll move forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The meaning of gentleness can be difficult.&lt;br /&gt;You just have to say what you feel.&lt;br /&gt;Even if your feelings will hurt others, you have to go with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, you must be clear with what you say.&lt;br /&gt;Because, you must know how many times you have to say it before he understands. After all, no one exists forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does all of it come at the same time?&lt;br /&gt;And so, I have to choose. Which is fine? Which is not?&lt;br /&gt;As for you, which would you choose?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if I cannot understand it all now, I am sure I will in the future,&lt;br /&gt;By embracing hardship, happiness and secrets. So please do not get angry. Let’s hug together tightly forever.&lt;br /&gt;It’s my life, that’s why!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-5942356545717845868?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/5942356545717845868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=5942356545717845868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5942356545717845868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5942356545717845868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/02/vista-cause-for-all-pc-gamers-to-cheer.html' title='Vista, a cause for all PC gamers to cheer?'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-8991794919028332915</id><published>2007-02-05T22:59:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T23:01:54.597+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A dance of the Strains.</title><content type='html'>Song of (whatever) changed to Waltz For Strain, from the OST of the excellent Soukou no Strain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A combination of a great storyline, mechas, and two of my favourite VAs (Ayako Kawasumi and Yukana) = the creation of one of my favourite animes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, I should not speak too soon. 2 episodes to go &gt;_&lt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Anyone care to dance?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-8991794919028332915?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/8991794919028332915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=8991794919028332915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8991794919028332915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8991794919028332915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/02/dance-of-strains.html' title='A dance of the Strains.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-7392265280459860952</id><published>2007-02-04T01:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T01:58:41.168+08:00</updated><title type='text'>HDTV, are we ready for it?</title><content type='html'>Ah, the wonders of HDTV. A techno-dweep like me can go over for hours pondering about the effects of HDTV compared to SDTV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How sharp an image can go. How much larger a screen can be, although it quites depends on the size of your TV/monitor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you don't know, HDTV stands for High Definition TV. The pictures shown in HDTV are much clearer than the usual Standard TV (SDTV). HDTV also allows things to be broadcasted in a much larger, 16:9 pixel resolution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, is the world truly ready for HDTV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moreover, do we really need HDTV?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all boils down to how one would really want to watch television.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For people who really want to see how the ripples of a water look like on television, or how a lion's mane would look like under a gust of wind, they would be the ones to go for HDTV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Others, like me, would go for actual content. I don't really care how nice this show looks. If it has quality, I'm watching it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This can easily be seen in Animes. There are some animes out there which look pretty decent, but have a great storyline, which resulted in a huge following of fans. Naruto, Bleach and Detective Conan, 3 of the most popular animes today, are not shown in HDTV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, Black Lagoon, was shown on HDTV. However, as to why it was shown in HDTV, will perhaps be something beyond me. While I am an action fan, I never found Black Lagoon any interesting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All it had was random swearing and shooting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Story? What story?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hence, a good graphics, may not necessary mean a good show which is to be watched. After all, WOWOW, a Japanese station, airs pretty much of its animes on its HDTV channel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point is, are we watching a show to be entertained, or to woo at some graphics which is 4x sharper?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently, Singapore has Discovery HD and National Geographic HD channel. However, with most television sets being 1080i instead of the proper 1080p (Note: 1080i takes half the bandwidth required of p, but the difference varies. Many arguments have gone on as to say "Which is truly better", but technically, 1080p &gt; 1080i), and the LCD/Flatscreen television sets having yet to truly die off, it would be hard to see people shelling out thousands of dollars (unless you are buying a HDTV enabled projector, which is another matter) for a brand-new television.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, are you watching Discovery to learn about the lions, or to see how a lion's mane would flow with the wind? On top of that, you have to cope with "current" technology being obsolete within a week or two.  With the 1080p50 and 1080p60 (50/60 encoding frames per second) yet to be released, would one take the risk?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps, in a few years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for now, let's just enjoy the story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7392265280459860952?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7392265280459860952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7392265280459860952' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7392265280459860952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7392265280459860952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/02/hdtv-are-we-ready-for-it.html' title='HDTV, are we ready for it?'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-7822717925471069844</id><published>2007-01-31T22:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T22:48:34.671+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thailand. Professionals? More like school children...</title><content type='html'>That was a very amusing match to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's see, the referee for the Singapore - Thailand match awarded Singapore a penalty under dubious circumstances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In most places, the penalty would have been taken, and the post match conference would be pretty funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, Thailand must make a show of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They wanted to walk out of the match, with merely 7 minutes to go and another 90 minutes back at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've seen better teams losing with more dignity and pride. How many times have we seen Chelsea/Liverpool/Man U/whatever lose due to a bad ref call? The managers blast the referee later, but, as with all professionals, they don't "walk out" of a game and delay the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is exactly the behavior of children on a playground. If things don't go my way, I leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Totally unprofessional. These people play football as a career, and have worked hard to break into the national team. Not only did they make a fool of themselves, they disgraced their country, and the region altogether.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who can forget Myanmar two years ago when they threw a water bottle at the ref, or at least, tried to and hit the defender instead? So far, this tournament was rather clean, as everyone looked to move away from that ugly past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just unfortunate that the Thailand players have to show the world that the Asian side is still as rowdy and childish. It is no wonder none of the teams could really break into the Asian cup and beyond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Start being professional, Thailand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grow up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7822717925471069844?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7822717925471069844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7822717925471069844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7822717925471069844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7822717925471069844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/01/thailand-professionals-more-like-school.html' title='Thailand. Professionals? More like school children...'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-8818287965385041295</id><published>2007-01-31T00:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T00:34:01.117+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Working on the internet for free: Job Satisfaction, or something else?</title><content type='html'>Mmm, Digital Life talked about the internet "police" today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hell, it was a fairly good read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While they are true that these people are good, since they do things for free, the question is, what exactly keeps them going?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Self satisfaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the guys who counter Nigerian Scams have lots of fun doing it, the others sometimes take on extremely stressful jobs. For one, being a Wikipedia administrator, or a moderator in a very famous forum, such as GameFAQs.com, is no easy task. As with the internet, the mentality of the people are, sometimes, divided by half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, it does bring one a pretty good sense of satisfaction when you know you are helping the community, and that you enjoy what you have done. This is exactly why people actually do things for fun, willing to go without pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, as with Economics, no one does anything for free. Especially since it would be a waste of time, if one gets nothing in return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, there's the famous internet ego level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;epenizor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some, becoming an administrator gives them great pride, as they can go around message boards "flexing their epenizor".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, whatever it may be, these people should be thanked. For without them, the internet would be a lot more fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-8818287965385041295?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/8818287965385041295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=8818287965385041295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8818287965385041295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/8818287965385041295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/01/working-on-internet-for-free-job.html' title='Working on the internet for free: Job Satisfaction, or something else?'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-6599353584637709713</id><published>2007-01-29T04:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T04:03:07.321+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's going to take more than your meddling to stop me.</title><content type='html'>*unsheathes Estreledge*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Game on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-6599353584637709713?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/6599353584637709713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=6599353584637709713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6599353584637709713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/6599353584637709713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/01/its-going-to-take-more-than-your.html' title='It&apos;s going to take more than your meddling to stop me.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-5737970797062010236</id><published>2007-01-27T00:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-27T00:59:34.165+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Jean, I want to have Carnal Knowledge of you"</title><content type='html'>I was in Chinatown today, and was heading back home on my Dad's car. As usual, it was tuned to Class 95, my dad's favorite station.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that time, it was Car Tunes, hosted by Jean Danker. As usual, she accepts calls and plays random music to help everyone ease through the usual peak hour jam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was talking about a very interesting telephone conversation she had with someone earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It went something along the lines of...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;==&lt;br /&gt;Jean: Class 95. Hello.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dude: Hello Jean. My name is Mr X. {Note: I forgot his name. Not that it's significant anyway}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jean: Hello.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dude: I want to exchange bodily fluids with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jean: Excuse me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dude: I love you. I want to rock your world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;==&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Transcripter's note: change all the weird words to "the process where babies are created").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at the first time, I smiled. It was, kinda, funny. It was followed up with a caller's reaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, after a few songs and advertisements, it was played.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, such conversations should not be aired in the first place. It's funny as hell, but, like what some callers said, what if there's some kid taking a ride home at that time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn't a case of being "open" or "closed" to sexuality topics. This is a case of morals. There's a time to be open, and there's a time to be closed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't that why there are censors in effect?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dirty jokes, may be funny on first telling. Unfortunately, after that, they, unlike wine, don't age well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never say it a second time, even if no one else has heard it. That's because people like me, will hear it twice, and won't really find it that funny, having some guy whispering that he wants to bed the DJ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So please, class 95, even if it cannot be screened, don't replay it. Sex jokes on public radio don't go down too well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said, I was in Chinatown today, wandering around, no idea why I was there, except for that my mom dragged me along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I wandered to Chinatown Point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jackpot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a stall called Hyper Media, on the 2nd floor. It imports animes from Taiwan (DVDs, not the crappy VCDs we get here), and sells them here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also has quite a lot of posters. Don't bother with the figurines though. Pretty badly painted. &gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, here's the catch: The pricing is very steep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A full set of AIR would cost around $120 (Roughly $20 a disc stall-wide).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still... I guess it breathes life into this almost dying anime scene where everyone download fansubs. LoL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had the cash, I would have brought the AIR dvd set ._.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-5737970797062010236?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/5737970797062010236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=5737970797062010236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5737970797062010236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5737970797062010236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/01/jean-i-want-to-have-carnal-knowledge-of.html' title='&quot;Jean, I want to have Carnal Knowledge of you&quot;'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-4094797859111087218</id><published>2007-01-25T02:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T02:44:11.481+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The day I understand girls...</title><content type='html'>...will be the day the world ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;_&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;_&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday suddenly didn't look so bright.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-4094797859111087218?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/4094797859111087218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=4094797859111087218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4094797859111087218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4094797859111087218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/01/day-i-understand-girls.html' title='The day I understand girls...'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-2010538022459792248</id><published>2007-01-24T14:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T14:26:41.701+08:00</updated><title type='text'>1 million to make a robot.</title><content type='html'>1 million is a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not enough to make a robot which can use lifts and climb the stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Especially when-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) You need your own sponsors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) It must be autonomous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) The chance of failure is insanely high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, I think creating such an advanced robot would earn much much more in other countries. Especially in rights and stuff. We're talking of something along the lines of a Gundam here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;_&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-2010538022459792248?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/2010538022459792248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=2010538022459792248' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2010538022459792248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2010538022459792248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/01/1-million-to-make-robot.html' title='1 million to make a robot.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-7657125919519583148</id><published>2007-01-21T21:38:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-21T21:38:56.990+08:00</updated><title type='text'>And 3, makes a crowd</title><content type='html'>Congrats, lan jie. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7657125919519583148?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7657125919519583148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7657125919519583148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7657125919519583148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7657125919519583148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/01/and-3-makes-crowd.html' title='And 3, makes a crowd'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-5752727785737279804</id><published>2007-01-19T05:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-19T05:19:15.345+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Driving.</title><content type='html'>Congrats, Joanne. :) Driving is really fun. XD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention, convenient.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-5752727785737279804?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/5752727785737279804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=5752727785737279804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5752727785737279804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5752727785737279804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/01/driving.html' title='Driving.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-2308995116916064708</id><published>2007-01-16T16:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T16:25:07.517+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Singnet Grumble Grumble.</title><content type='html'>Recently, Singnet launched its 5mbit plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the same price as my existing 3.5mbit plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;_&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I still got one more year on my contract.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A different ISP, Starhub, gives free upgrades. Hence, if I had stuck to my 6.5mbit plan, it would be 12mbit now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am, 1/4 of the speeds of what I should have obtained. And maybe even a Xbox360 as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Singnet sure doesn't like keeping customers. Just by looking at Hardwarezone.com's forums, the flames of Singnet are close to intolerable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. Going cheap has its price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But still, with a 24 month contract bond, I would expect some kind of a quality service, especially after the broken Taiwan cable incident, where Starhub's service resumed a few days later, while Singnet is, again, left in the dust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, price price price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Economics. &lt;_&lt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-2308995116916064708?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/2308995116916064708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=2308995116916064708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2308995116916064708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/2308995116916064708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/01/singnet-grumble-grumble.html' title='Singnet Grumble Grumble.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-4658698205312897145</id><published>2007-01-12T20:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T21:19:32.549+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shaming people in public.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, an editor wrote that shaming people in the public should be stopped, using a recent article (Sunday, I think) which had people sending in photographs of those who are inconsiderate when on public transport as a reference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the problem is, why has it been almost "common" in our society to shame others? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, from young, we have learned that shaming, as long as it does not involve one self, is almost perfectly acceptable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember the times back in Primary/Secondary school? Public canings are something which, unfortunately, we as students look forward to. I recall saying "There's a show to watch this morning. Hehe." whenever I see that chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In class, students who do not do their homework, or talk in class, are asked to stand, or leave the classroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, I recall the Secondary School installing cameras to "observe" how we eat, so as to shame our behavior even further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, there's no doubt, from my parent's account, this public shaming isn't exactly new in our generation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With technology, pictures can be shared much much easily. No longer will you have to tell a story about some guy who did something which you frown on, but you actually have pictures of them doing it on your cellphone. Moreover, with Stomp (The Straits Times Interactive Portal), people feel obliged to send their prize, so that others can "discuss" them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh sure, there are discussions, and then, there are discussions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I mean is further ridicule on these people. It isn't exactly fine to heap scorn on those doing things which have been unofficially defined as "immoral".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the worst ones are those who ridicule those they just find different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just google "Arguing on the internet is like running in the special Olympics.", and you will know what I mean. Technology has allowed people to go all out to shame people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as long as it isn't them, it is perfectly fine to shame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I find it interesting that the editor wants us to stop shaming others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting, because I think it is near impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I've mentioned, it is part of our upbringing, hence, to stop people from shaming, you have to start from young.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No more public caning in school. No more punishment in school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I doubt it will happen. After all, shaming does work as a deterrent, although some people wear their "Cane marks" like badges of honour. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hence, it is just unfortunate that shaming, which actually does some good, has been degraded these days to "showing the world about the things I dislike". Yet, as bad as it is, it can't be stopped. The simple reason being they are doing things which are considered unacceptable by society. Sure, they are part of society too, but even they should know what is considered "unacceptable" by society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if you want shaming to stop, stop these acts first, and the shaming will eventually come to an end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-4658698205312897145?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/4658698205312897145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=4658698205312897145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4658698205312897145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/4658698205312897145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/01/shaming-people-in-public.html' title='Shaming people in public.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-7460733609192672190</id><published>2007-01-10T20:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T20:09:13.518+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Baldr Force EXE Resolution ;o</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, the best animes are those DVD-only OVAs. Understandably, it is one of the easiest ways to make money, and to milk as much as possible from a successful series.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, they take somewhere along the lines of months/years for each episode to be released. -_-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, while there are some mess ups (GITS:SSS &gt;_&gt;), most OVAs are very enjoyable to watch, if they aren't simple recaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baldr Force EXE resolution definitely got me hooked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 more episodes to go. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 more months to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Song of (whatever) changed to Face of Fact, by KOTOKO, the opening theme of Baldr force EXE RESOLUTION. I have a strong liking for I'VE sound these days, and this song shows. Unlike some crap like GIZA, I'VE sound actually produces brilliant singers with wonderful voices, and there hasn't been one song which I frowned upon yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hell, even Mai Nakahara sang pretty well in Season of Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7460733609192672190?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7460733609192672190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7460733609192672190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7460733609192672190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7460733609192672190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/01/baldr-force-exe-resolution-o.html' title='Baldr Force EXE Resolution ;o'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-5254463642878685945</id><published>2007-01-09T23:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T23:42:15.562+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's see if I can change a DSLAM exchange.</title><content type='html'>I realised that my speeds are just sucking, and upon checking the modem, I've realised that I'm probably too far away from my exchange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, let's see if I can change it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only the damned lines aren't always engaged. -_-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-5254463642878685945?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/5254463642878685945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=5254463642878685945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5254463642878685945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5254463642878685945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/01/lets-see-if-i-can-change-dslam-exchange.html' title='Let&apos;s see if I can change a DSLAM exchange.'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-7117343567657631255</id><published>2007-01-05T21:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-05T22:13:55.124+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Innocent unless proven guilty....?</title><content type='html'>As the teacher says,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"You must not be guilty to be proven guilty, but you are not guilty unless proven guilty."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, there was this guy who was brutally hacked to death in JB. I thought that it would be yet another one of those stories, with the media covering the investigations for the next few days and maybe the dangers of JB or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, they are saying that the guy who was murdered, is a suspected murderer himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By saying that he has a new identity, and that his family does not know what he is doing, is rather insulting for a guy who was just murdered in cold blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The papers have already somewhat painted him as a criminal, using words such as "Secret Society" and so on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though he is the prime suspect, he has yet to have been proven guilty in a court of law. And, that means, that he's not guilty, as far as the legal system goes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could the press have at least waited till the funeral is over or something? If I were the family of the man, I would find these articles extremely insulting the his memory. Instead of saying how the JB police is handling this (although I know police don't comment on anything that's still under investigation), they go on about his background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, should the press do anything just to get the ratings and sales? In Death Note 2, the producers in the show are willing to allow people to continue dying to get the ratings. What happened to morality and ethics?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, with oil companies being some of the world's richest companies, what morality and ethics? -_-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the real world too....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-7117343567657631255?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/7117343567657631255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=7117343567657631255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7117343567657631255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/7117343567657631255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/01/innocent-unless-proven-guilty.html' title='Innocent unless proven guilty....?'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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-10365863.post-5344430469411420392</id><published>2007-01-01T02:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-01T03:01:56.118+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year</title><content type='html'>With the start of the new year, something of the old, must go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this year, I chose my fansub team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, it is one of the most amazing experience I've had. Very fun and enjoyable when everything is done correctly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, as with fansubbing, not everything is done perfectly. There are times when the whole thing which mess up, and the whole thing blows up in your face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there's also a major problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It takes easily 6 hours to work on an episode, if not more. Simply time I do not have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, good bye, Fansubbing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Happy New Year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Year's Resolution:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-To break as many ridiculous New Year resolutions which I'll come up with sooner or later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I, or at least my brother is, annoyed with, is Creative's way of working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or, the lack of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During our vacation in Hong Kong, my laptop (which I brought for some unknown reason) is the only way to charge the MP3s and my phone. Apple and my Motorola phone charged easily, while the PSP had it's own charger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem arose when we attempted to charge the Zen Micro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, despite the fact that it could charge BOTH my Ipod and handphone at the same time, it simply refuse to charge the Zen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's not the issue here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The issue here, is that when my brother wanted to get some songs out of his Zen before the thing dies, and into his PSP to listen, he found absolutely no way to access his songs on his Zen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was no way to download the Creative Mediasource center which was critical in management of the Zen micro. The official site merely stated it as "found on the installation CD".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if I have no installation CD, and I just happen to have a Zen, I'm quite screwed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, of course, we can talk about hacked firmware here, but with things like MP3 players, I don't like taking my chances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, it is absolutely ridiculous. Ipod's iTunes can be downloaded more easily than frying an egg, and Creative's one only comes in a CD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a reason why I'm using an iPod now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10365863-5344430469411420392?l=this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/feeds/5344430469411420392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10365863&amp;postID=5344430469411420392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5344430469411420392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10365863/posts/default/5344430469411420392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://this-is-not-a-blog-.blogspot.com/2007/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year'/><author><name>NightFalcon</name><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>
