Alice

Oh, Alice in Wonderland, where art thou?

N and S

iNtuitive and Sensory.

One lives more in the physical world, the moment, the present.

The other, stuck in a world of permanent wonder, what could be, what should be.




A good balance of N and S in a person, probably N 50, is good for maintaining a fluid conversation. They can adapt to the other person's mood.

No, scratch that.

A good match between the N and S of two or more people will cause their conversation and engagement to be in perfect harmony and in fluid.

The laugh at the same things, and get embarrassed at the same time.

Their moods are in tune, they feel that they are not alone.

N's over analyze things, consider way too many opportunities and possibilities, that they become frozen with indecision. Overcome this. Learn to tell the important information from the unimportant ones. Control you mind.

S's are too spontaneous. Sometimes not thinking too far ahead, and basically living in the present, with not much consideration of the near future. They are usually decisive but may be short sighted.


Am I an N, or S?










I'm an N.

Could you tell from the fact that I coloured N my favourite colour?

Or from how harsh I was on N's but not on S's.




And I'm in need of some serious S in my life.

Singing; A balance of confidence?

Over-confident, you do not harness and ride the natural way your voice is supposed to sing, you try to use your voice to mold you into something else. Something not meant to be. You sound wannabe. You cannot hit that extra key. So don’t.

Under-confident, you annoy the audience by only giving a fraction of what is possible. Of withholding the euphoria that they know you can provide. They will not let your disappointment go unpunished. It is comparable to teasing.

Good singers are attractive because, somehow or rather, they have the right balance of confidence. This radiates outwards and subconsciously attracts people.

Then again, why can some bitches sing well, and some angels sound bad? Maybe it is a superficial body function thing after all. Or maybe, the level of self-confidence you have does not really affect your personality all that much.


Who you are.

Who are you?

(So warm up, tune in, and let the church bells ring!)

Singing; A balance of confidence?

Over-confident, you do not harness and ride the natural way your voice is supposed to sing, you try to use your voice to mold you into something else. Something not meant to be. You sound wannabe. You cannot hit that extra key. So don’t.

Under-confident, you annoy the audience by only giving a fraction of what is possible. Of withholding the euphoria that they know you can provide. They will not let your disappointment go unpunished. It is comparable to teasing.

Good singers are attractive because, somehow or rather, they have the right balance of confidence. This radiates outwards and subconsciously attracts people.

Then again, why can some bitches sing well, and some angels sound bad? Maybe it is a superficial body function thing after all. Or maybe, the level of self-confidence you have does not really affect your personality all that much.


Who you are.

Who are you?

(So warm up, tune in, and let the church bells ring.)

Why should I give a shit?

There will come a day, when the world asks you:

Who are you? And why should I give a shit?

Sometimes, you won't even get past "who are you?" if first impressions are bad.

Sometimes, you won't get past "why should I give a shit?".

Hopefully, you'll think about what to do when that day comes. Hopefully you'll be prepared to tell the world why it should give a truck load of grade-A shit about you.

Some people don't wait for the world to ask them that question. They storm the stage and seize the day, and they tell the motherfucking world why it should give a motherfucking shit in a very Samuel L. Jackson manner.

Some people can never seem to decide and commit. They remain indecisive about which answer to choose, until the world gets bored, and the time to answer the question is over.

Some people readily answer the question with "You should not give a shit." Hell, as long as they're satisfied with what they have.

Some people know the answer, but are too lazy to take the stage and declare it. Obviously, they do not want to answer badly enough.

Some people know the answer, but are too afraid to speak it. Obviously, they do not want to answer badly enough.

Some people are great motivational speakers, but are not motivated enough to practice what they speak.

But the saddest of all:
For some people, that day may never come.
...Hey! You've got an internet connection. Must be pretty well off. I guess that's not you, is it?

So, when that day finally comes for you, what will be your answer?

Good times.

Taken one day before I left for Australia.

To Spike: Woogie, woogie, woogie!

Day by Day

Day by day, step by step. No need to rush it, no need to look back.

I'm getting by, with a lil green tea, and friends.

The Last Dinner

Alright. This is it. I'm going in. Locked and loaded. See you on the other side. ;)

Kukurela are my friends.

Thank you.

Thank you for the music, the songs I'm singing.

Thanks for all the joy you bring me.

First of all, thank you for reading this. You'll probably see your name below. If not, feel free to scream at me for forgetting via my chatbox. XD

If you see your name below, I want you to start a Thank You blog post of your own.

It is gonna take a lot of time (unless you're an ungrateful bastard =P), but think of the people you really need to appreciate and thank. Thank you.

Thank you, Ahpa and Meme. I am in Australia. I live a pretty good life.

Thank you, Hans. Nobody understands more of my non-decipherable codes and grunts more than you do.

Thank you, Ahma. Ling Yong when I have a fever, and homecooked meals. More than I could ever repay.

Thank you, Ah Kong. We never saw eye to eye on the dog issue, but thanks for saving me from primary school fevers in your yellow Kenari. And for caring so much but showing it in unconventional ways.

Thank you, Spike. You are the smiao-ly ball of brown fur that brings everyone joy. Hans will give you a bear-hug now.

Thank you, Max and Bobi. Both fiercely independant, hate taking baths. Bobi, you got me off the pacifier. Rest in peace. Max, we had some crazy times. Pop your left ear up the next time we cross paths in OUG, k?

Thank you, Hugo. Don't feel bad because I thank you after Spike. We have turned the world on its outward bellybutton and made ideas our intangible bitch. Identity crisis FTW, together we rise!

Thank you, Vic. Um. Yeah. Aw, yeah. Ungh.

Thank you, Kotew and Soo See kor kor. A&W, Lotus, morning jogs, and Uncle Walter's vet shop, I will always treasure.

Thank you, Wan Yee. Scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch...seaweed, chocolate, snacks. =3 You prempted the Oreo craze. Respect. Remember the Jurassic Park dinosaurs we shot?

Thank you, Uncle Trevor and Boon See kor kor. "Going to uncle trevor's house" means a party in my mouth and everyone's invited. Maybe not Spike. I'm probably not the only one who is also very thankful Boon See kor kor has lost her Nuclear M.O.A.B (Mother of All Bombs) chao pui.

Thank you, Uncle Julian and Big kor kor. Even though I was rude sometimes, and we had some silly exchanges and shouting matches, I was still given Reeses buttercookies.

Thank you, Conor and Atalie. We shared some pretty crazy childhood stories. The contract that Conor signed is still on the metal cabinet. And I think Ahma's bed springs never really fully recovered from our trampoline madness. Such a shame we drifted apart.

Thank you, Henry, Brandon, Waverly, Aaron, Timmy, and Avery. The house just feels too quiet without the Hurricane 6. =D

Thank you, Yeung-Yang brothers, and...argh...I have a fever and sore throat now, can't list all... for 18 years of Saturday Night Fever!

Thank you, Uncle Gary. Owning a cyber cafe? Knowing the best strategies of the latest games? You are TOTALLY the cool uncle every kid gamer wants to have.

Thank you, Yean Yee and Uncle Kelvin. Always knew how to tell me and Hans to stop freaking out the kids.

Thank you, Pow Yee and Uncle Owen. For the cool and scary stories about the streets.

Thank you, Gua Ma and Gua Kong. Ang dao teng, and Gui Ling Go never tasted better.

Thank you, Suan Yee and Uncle Eric. Haha. Young enough to relate! =P

Thank you, Ting Yee and Uncle John. I miss the days when you'll occupy Ahpa's Saturday nights with amusing religious debates.

Thank you, Ah Ku. For showing me how to...truly appreciate football.

Thank you, Shanti. For reminding me that I are t3h AWESOME PfwNZ0RZ!!1

Thank you, Syed. You are, by far, the best duet partner I've had the honour to work with. Seriously, I've had another duet partner that is just so difficult to work with. Rock on, rock hard.

Thank you, Moi. You are...not the difficult partner I was talking about. Thanks for trusting me as we dove headfirst into the epic adventure that was Forensics. And Einstein is pronounced Eye-n-sty-n. Not anal-stain.

Thank you, Aiman. Perhaps the spiky haired quintessential struggling actor and the self-concious cunning linguistic smoking monkey shall cross paths again one day. May planet Earth brace herself for the shockwaves we will send down her deep, dark, crevices. Homer Simpson, RAB, and Cthulhu willing.

Thank you, Tasha. Mission Hollywood still alive, still ticking. Stay in touch, stay in talk.

Thank you, Lianne. For being all ears to issues I'd really rather not mention here.

Thank you, Ying. For hot tea. Cool conversations. And luke warm company. With my bad memory. =P

Thank you, Marvin. For being the obnoxious, monster-fragging, England-speaking, lovable Johnny boy that you are. =P But we sing, sing without a reason!

Thank you, Surrej. For being the walking embodiment of the Anti-Christ! Muahahahaha! Remember the condom you found in your pencil box?

Thank you, Denise. For going crazy with me. Le Penise. Though you probably won't read this far.

Thank you, Kim. For brightening up my day. Virtually literally.

Thank you, Mel Violin. For the tear shredding violin skills. And for laughing with me, when everyone else is laughing at us.

Thank you, Funshine Bear. I still don't know who you are, but I like you! =)

Thank you, Jill. For the drama times and That-Which-We-Shall-Not-Speak-Of.

Thank you, Rachel Yong. For calming me down when I start berzerker ranting. And for Friends.

Thank you, Bryan. For the photoshop lessons, the rocket-jumps, the uber-charges, and the ever resounding cries of PUSSY MEOW MEOW, PUSSY MEOW MEOW!!

Thank you, Encik Balan from Sri Sentosa 2003 and Zhong lau shi from Jalan Davidson 2002. You've shown me that intelligence, responsibility, and wisdom may have an inverse relationship with age. There are 5 students in the classroom, 7 of them leave. How many students are left? 2 donuts and a moustache.

Thank you, Cik Kok. For believing in my Ahli Pak collar pin design. Until the manufacturer screwed it up. And for getting my head stitched up.

Thank you, Mr Chong. For the 4 and a half years of company and art lessons. I may have forgotten most of it by now. XD JB with a bag of peanuts and blueberry vodka.

Thank you, Khei Lie. For my special last day in Sri Sentosa involving a plastic ruler. And that game we used to play that involved a dice. ;)

Thank you, Wei Guan. For practically being my only Sri Sentosa friend. And for the cat hunts we will never regret!

Thank you, Justin Sperm. For not smacking me for repeatedly calling you that. The music, the madness, and the watermelons we shared will be a significant part of my Perth experience.

Thank you, Kohei. For going along with the 'Justin Sperm' thing. For showing me that humility and thought before speech is an admirable quality. Show me around Japan one day, yeah?

*Double fist bump*

Thank you, Anders. For the beers, and the cheers, and the times when Gustave just loses it and trips balls.

Thank you, June. We had fun with Fatigus. Nyah.

Thank you, Amanda. For friendship. The green thumb drive. And tea set. =)

Thank you, John Lin. Bersama-sama berbrother-brother. And for passing on The Sacred Art of Instant Noodle Perfection.

Thank you, Kang Sheng. For showing me the darkness concealed by the blinding light.

Thank you, Sylvia. For liking The Hush Sound and being the other crazy kid running around laughing and screaming. Looks like I'm not alone.

Thank you, Lindley. For also liking The Hush Sound. And BEING THE ONLY HARDCORE FEMALE LEFT4DEAD PLAYER I KNOW. OOO-RAH! TAAAAANK!!

Thank you, Gloria. For the nice talks in the cold wind. And, hopefully, for the brownies. =)

Thank you, Gen. For being the torch that shines brighter yet in the enveloping darkness.

Thank you, Evan. For the war talks. Some of fights not physical.

Thank you, Icee. For teaching me how to fly. Far, far away from the little boxes on the hillside. Without falling fatally to the ground. And for the best kind of jump jump sing song!

Thank you, Bolster. You keep me warm and make me feel safe in this cold, dry, PMS-ing weather. I will name you soon.



Thank you all, for the person that I am today.



Why am I writing this? I just realised there is so much to love, appreciate, explore, play with, and be thankful for in this twisted, vicious, unforgiving world. I have to sleep now. Camomille, Liquorice, and Green Tea are waging a war with Running Nose and Sore Throat.

X to the O, to the niggers in the hood.

Sub zero

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. The net is gettin tighter. Too late to get out now. Trapped under the artic ice. Blue, Dark, Black. Down for the count. Yeehaw, so this is what it feels like to drown. Never coming back from this one. No way, no hoo, no hey, no how. Close your eyes and enjoy the ride.

Bada-bing! Happy bday Aiman and Shanti!

For the first time in 6 months, Gustave Oon went for an audition. More specifically, a speed audition. Much like speed dating, really.

And I feel alive. Bada-bing, bada-boom.

For 2 and a half days.

Then classes start.

I am bound. Strapped. Shot at. Spat on.

Figuratively.

Ah well...not like any of you know what I'm going on about.

All I can tell you is this: Shit be cruising and shit be flying.

Anyhoo, happy birthday to Aiman and Shanti. (Damnit I thought your bday was on the 24th again!) As celebration, all the way from Perth, I auditioned and dedicate it to both of you. You are both 2 of the biggest influences in drama and acting.

Thank you very, very much. Really. I would not be the actor I am today without you guys.

Wuv you. =3


X to the O.

Fridays at Icee's.

At the centre of concentration,
the height of attention.
Words don't stream together,
the world melts away the edge of your vision.

You pour yourself into your subject,
and daze out in the process.
Your third person view of the world
leaves you calm, content, and detached.

Music lights the starless night sky,
while mickey dances with a platypus.
The world is your oyster,
You race through colour and space.

Social complications,
political dictation.
They deny what greater forces
bestow upon us.

Sitting here curled up upon carpet,
chit-chatting friends all around us.
Palms all facing an electric heater,
eating food for their sound and colours.

Warm colours made with honey, sunbeam, and apples.
Or a campfire, with a guitar and horse to complete.
We be cruising, we be sailing.
To places before, after, and never-ever.

You are the nomad,
home to this earth.
The shifting sands of this world,
Makes you dance with the rhythm.

Audio visuals report sunsets and mountains
Tasty sounds and music fountains.
Dream while you tread upon this earth,
and embrace the seven-leafed clover.

Hello again.

Hi. Gustave here. Haven't been updating for a while. Lotsa stuff going on around me. Some awesome. Some awful. And some just plain awww...

Gonna open up and write in a new notebook, that I bought last year. Kinda marks a new chapter in my life. Booze, boobs, and bong. Booze, butts, and bling. Pfft...

Yup. Had meme and apah fly me my favourite notebooks when they visited. Flipped open a black hand-bound notebook with cinnamon sticks and a blue flower petal on its cover.

"Aiman
Gustave
Marvin
Celine"

Hmm. I wrote in this book during form 5 (2007). Guess those were the people I was closest to at the time. 'Celine' was written in black and the rest in teal. I added her name halfway through the year.

Should probably put Shanti there too.

Gave her one of these Indonesian-made (or just sold?) ones. Gave Marvin one too. I think Aiman has several.

Anyhoo, Shanti's filled her's to the border. Heh. Shanti hebat! =D

Marvin...blank, the last I checked. Hmm. Kinda drifted away from ya, eh? Good times.

HEY HEY! Among the pages of random song lyrics and chords...remember that time we played Starcraft: The Boardgame with Marvin and Calvin, Hans? Muahahahaha! OWNAGE!

"Shit. I got no combat cards.
Kill them fast.
Go from Antiga & Lockdown
Slug it out?
Conquest
Wanna eliminate?
or
Special Vic?
I can special vic."

Heh. Good times.


Names for my next notebook: Hugo, John, Victoria, Icee?

Probably.

*yawn* nite nite.

"I'm in a fight not physical.
I'm in a war, but not with this world."

Malaysia truly Gaysia?

Good weather, unrivaled food, and a BlendTec blender full of linguistic and social culture.

Sounds pretty good, eh? What more could humanity hope for in the future?

Hmm. A non-homophobic government, perhaps?








Hands up if you noticed the masks. SURE there's H1N1 bacon flu around. Of course it's not because their afraid of...heh...catching gay. Extra points if you noticed how the anchor stuttered while uttering the word "homosexual". And a great big hug if you realized how they mentioned same sex couples dancing erotically as if it was something to be ashamed of.

I, for one, am ashamed of our government's stand on homosexuality.


Did anyone notice the phrase "These gay clubs will give birth to an unhealthy life style"? Sure the gay clubbers take ex. But so do others in dodgy nightclubs. Of course there were 28 men versus only 4 women on drugs, there were simply more male clubbers there.

Or maybe, homosexuals take drugs and converge at known locations to further escape an unfor-gay-ving world. Some are disowned by their families if discovered. But that's not really justification, is it? Oh wait, there were about 500 men there. So that makes...what? Less than 10%?


Even though the media did not blatantly explicitly say that homosexuals are druggies, the subtext is there. I took 2 units in semiotics. So, there.

The media positions viewers as a people who are against homosexuality and find it disgusting, vile, and immoral. That is our government's ideal view of Malaysians.



The government, who controls mainstream media, is desperate and relentless in ensuring at all costs, or at least ideally assuming, that we Malaysians are a country that condemns Human Rights violations, aparthied and preaches understanding and acceptance...except when it comes to gays.

Nevermind that our government uses the ISA as its political equivalent of an armour piercing heat seaking missle.

Forget the fact that Malaysia constitutionalises racism.

But to outlaw homosexuality? To make it illegal to have a relationship with one who you truly love based on a biological factor that is determined even BEFORE conception? To impose one's beliefs and value, religious or otherwise, onto others while hypocritically claiming to do otherwise.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is Malaysia.














Sorry, that is NOT Malaysia. That is the Malaysian government. Living among Malaysians for 18 years and then experiencing life here in Perth. I have to say that I know very few people who are against homosexuality, even though their religion says otherwise. In fact, I know 3.

...2 and a half really. One of them is a gay-basher in public only.

So anyway...*ahem*:


That, ladies and gentlemen, is the pinnacle of human irrationality, stupidity, and arrogance.

Judging someone based on their sexual preference, gender-wise, is irrational.
Claiming, on the behalf of a society that is generally accepting and understanding, that Malaysia is a society that condemns homosexuality is stupid.
Imposing one's stupid and irrational beliefs on others via legislation is arrogant.

Of course I can get into Sigmund Freud's theory on how the human libido is essentially bisexual, but even if that proves to be false, it still leaves us with stupid and arrogant. But then again, I guess being rationally stupid and arrogant is worse than being irrationally so.


I am not speaking on behalf of the Malaysian society, just my 18 years of experience and about the people I know. I am not being arrogant...well...maybe I am, but my blog is my little cyber theater.

That video above, instead of just sending me into an Alan Shore rant, has also made me glad that as homophobic as the Malaysian government is, at least we don't have an unshaven, nuclear loving, prime minister who refuses to even acknowledge the existence of homosexuals.

...we have a balding, sleep deprived, C-4 loving one. =P

Damage report.

Damage report
2 Buttons (unable to recover)
2 Ear drums (functioning at 40% with ringing aftershock)
Multiple minor blisters
Made the unnecessary observation of a pale, naked, jiggly butt crack (Irreparable psychological damage)


Achievements
Blew off group of 4 unworthy girls
Experienced Sambuka and Kahlua on the rocks
Danced it out with comrades Justin, Koh Ei, Mesha, and...girl from typography class =)
Experienced a "Janet class" birthday party
Had a good time
Realization that auditions must be attended and the haunting calls of the stage must be answered.
Made the unnecessary observation of a pale, naked, jiggly butt crack


Conclusion
Pretty damn cool

Transformers : Revenge of The KA-FARKING-BOOM!

Imagine being at one with your seat and triple cheeseburger.

Now imagine standing beneath a waterfall, holding a urine sample sized cup, trying to catch it all.

That was my Transformers experience.



First of all, to those who say "too much action", "bad script", "weak storyline"..."pacing". Kindly shake head along horizontal axis as if coming to realization.

...

...

...

(Pause for audience head shake)

...

Ok. Now, Transformers started out as a fucking cartoon. What were people expecting to see when they walked into the cinema?!

XD


And the moment the half hour of advertisements were over and I saw the words:

"A Michael Bay Film"

...I knew exactly what to expect. =D

I was not disappointed...

...in fact, very much blown away.







...RM60?! What are you driving? Optimus Prime ah?!

Hah.

"You've bitten off more than you can swallow this time."

"Oh I don't swallow. I just chew up and spit out."

S-s-s-sohai face!

Can't read my, can't read my, no you can't read my sohai face,
looks like I forgot what my hand is.
Can't read my, can't read my, no you can't read my chinky face,
it's written in traditional Mandarin.

S-s-s-sohai face, s-s-sohai face.
Ma-ma-ma-ma.
C-c-c-chinky face, c-c-chinky face.
Ma-ma-ma-ma.

X to the O to the niggers in the hood.

Because it make you rebel...

...against what?

Dreams, I has them.

Despite the grammatically incorrect title, this probably be a more serious post.

Absurd, maybe, but serious nonetheless.

I had dreams two nights in a row. I find this significant because I spent the first night playing resident evil for 5 hours with kohei, and my dream was about family. MY family. Everyone gathered round some house that mostly resembled ah ma's* house. Ah ma making all my favourite food and jelly and stuff.

That would have been the most impacting part of the dream, coz I swear I remember some parts involving a chase or something. (Not by giant servings of my favourite food, heh.)

Or not.

Probably not.

Then I woke up and looked around the living room of Justin's sister's house. Tv. Check. PS3. Check. 1.5 L of Aloe Vera drink. Check. Gas heater still turned on and not leaking lethal amounts of gas to which I woke up to and will save everyone from gas poisoning and the house from destruction, check. Kohei, chec......wait, where is Kohei? He's supposed to be fast asleep on the couch. Maybe he's checking his mail on the computer. Or maybe he's run off with my wallet and Justin's car. Well...*drove* off then.

My wallet, check.

Ok...maybe it got cold and he decided to make-a snuggle-snuggle with-a Justin, and then it turned into-a sexy time.

Ah-ha-ha. My name-a Mario.

Argh. But yeah, that was my post-dream self thinking. Or just an Anti-best friend gay mechanism kicking in. Me talking like-a Mario, that is. Actually, sexytime should have been my name-a Borat. I actually muttered "my name-a mario" out loud...softly. Out soft.

Yeah.

Anyhoo, after letting my semi-conscious, just-woke-up-from-dream-self run wild with my imagination, I slowly called to it, lovingly but sternly, much like how one tells a huge fluffy dog to go back into its kennel, albeit reluctantly, back into the subconcious part of my mind where it will plot and think up thoughts that will influence my actions and give me awkward wet dreams, much unlike a huge fluffy dog lying down in its kennel looking stoned.

I called out to Kohei, "Kohei?"

Lol, I know. How very descriptive.

Then I heard Kohei answer back, but he sounded less than a metre away. This might just turn into some insane twilight/horror/mystery blog post except I remember that this post is about my dreams. Whew.

Turned out his hoodie and jeans were around the same tone and hue of the couch. Colour harmony. There! Art students DO learn stuff. So then I told him about my dream. And how it did not contain a single multiheaded butt ugly monster which I pump lead into. I told him if there was a God, this is probably his way of telling me to take care of myself. And that I have less-than average heart condition and diabetes prone genes.

After that we had instant noodles.

Then we continued Resident Evil 5 till 5 pm.

We had pizza for dinner.

Ok. The good diet thing starts tomorrow.

That night, which was yesterday, I had another dream. It was set in this HUGE EPIC school/college carnival event. There was a parliament, in which I somehow managed to reverse a decision involving some "great-union of the people" to the favour of the majority (God knows why they didn't win) by telling a girl (who happened to be a member of parliament and the daughter of some big important politician) to "trust me" and I then locked my forearm around her neck from behind and pointed my index and middle finger to her head, which then transformed in a gun. So I was holding her at gunpoint.

"A great-unity, eh? Whoa-whoa-whoa, what do we have here?"

I projected (as theater teaches us to) the second part of the sentenced just as I grabbed her. What followed was a greek-styled dramatic orating to the masses which I finally won with...

"How can there be a great union when the majority disagrees?!"

At this point, true to Hollywood, three quarters of the parliament, which was seated in a lecture-theater style, stood up and cheered wildly, while the rest muttered suspiciously as if plotting my assassination.

Anyhoo, I was actually just thrown into the so-called parliament. It was never revealed that it was a parliament, or that the girl is the daughter of some great politician, or that we are familiar enough for me to say "trust me" and for her to allow me to hold her at gunpoint, or fingerpoint, to get the attention of the crowd. Come to think of it, that girl kinda resembled June. June Bunny Nyaa, that is. I guess in dream you just assume what everything is and the whole thing just works. Or maybe its just your subconscious telling you everything.

I was wearing white. My high-school white pants, given only to prefects and presidents.

I was not a prefect. (Both in the dream and in real life)

I then had celebrity status whereever I walked about in that carnival. Wherever I walked people knew me for the "epic" stunt I pulled and I would get free stuff for repeating the line with all the dramatic flair. Now, I say carnival because there were food stalls and little chess, scrabble, reversi, and what-not competitions around. And at one point I was walking with Kohei when Justin (prolly an organiser) informed us that the reversi competition had an overwhelming turnout and that the current point leader is so good that he is making an oreo for dinner.

With the black and white...yeah, you get the point.

The whole time it was drizzling and it was a bit cold. The buildings somehow had white tiles outside and on the outer perimeter. And there were patches of grass.

I was then somehow running around looking for my other pair of black and green sneakers. I only found one sneaker. I then met someone who resembled Khaidir. He drove off in a four-wheel drive when I couldn't remember his name.

After a little more running around, I woke up.

Alrighty, in conclusion:

1. Both times I was drinking Aloe Vera juice before I fell asleep.

2. I need to start eating healthy.

3. I miss my family.

4. I managed to pull a heroic stunt in a theatrical fashion and in the presence of a girl resembling June. (in the dream, heh)

5. I like the setting of a mostly white-tiled building with green patches of grass while it's drizzling lightly.

6. I will change the colour of my blog.






Lol. Colour of the heart.

Anyhoo, I'm probably gonna read into my dreams more and take heed of my subconscious. Starting with eating lettuce as...no, drinking lettuce as a drink...

HOLY CRAP. I just realized that I have almost never been drinking green tea since the water boiler broke down. That's the whole green and rainy part...I guess.

Yes, I know that you can boil water in a pot.


OK.
1. More veggies.
2. More skyping with family.
3. Audition. MY FRICKING THEATRICAL NEEDS HAVE NOT BEEN SATISFIED. Thus the little dramatic "wet dream" part.
4. Hit the gym.
5. Drink green tea.
6. Rethink my degree path.

Oh yeah. And Marvin is going through surgery. For real.

Epic Win.

Today is a day of days.

The Premiere of Sunshine and Rainbows!

Sunshine and Rainbows premiere.

Perth, June 03:

The critically unknown and barely-past-oblivion-ly anticipated 6 minute 45 second film Sunshine and Rainbows, written, directed, and edited by quintessential struggling actor Gustave Oon, premieres today at 8 pm in conjunction with the Koh Ei, Natsuki, and Gustave's Sukiyaki Night at flat 37.

Conceived of on the night before the shooting, this film stars Gustave and Mitchell as best friends. Credible sources reports that the film revolves around the abstract and controversial concept of UV rays originating from a star and white light split into a spectrum of 7 colours. "Sukiyaki night is very good!", answered Koh Ei, when asked about the film. "Rainbows are like, gay. Right?", commented Justin Tatel, who could not attend the semi-epically oblivious event due to family obligations.

The audience turnout is estimated at 11 people, give or take a few.

-Kukurela news

Evil Goldfish Eyes staring into my room!

Ever wonder what happens when the fabric of the universe collapses into an individual's mind as he goes on a Ren and Stimpy marathon while an aspiring, narcissistic English man, with formal shoes that are rosak, continually ask him for permission to be Bobbert?

O_O

Evil Goldfish Eyes

(...staring into your bedroom.)

Ladies and Gentlemen,

the Ace of Academic Writing,

the Sultan of Surrealism,

(-fade lights-)

presenting, for one lifetime only...

Hugo Yap.

(-cue spotlight-)

(-insert applause-)


Check out his blog, lest the legion of Monkeys possess your every spasming tissue of your existence.



...including your hair.

(-fade applause-)

...the ones on your legs.
(coz they hurt like hell when pulled.)













(-oops, fade lights-)

Herbert died.

Argh. We had some good times. *sniff*

Rest in peace, little buddy. We totally got a 9/10 for photography.

...Herbert?

MONKEY POSSESSING MY FINGERTIPS!

WAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrroooooooowwwww!

Just had a Macchiato. Nyaa-nyaa-nyaa-nyaaaaa.

Nyaa-nyaa-nyaa-nyaaaa.

Hey-hey-hey. Sohai.
(Goodbye.)

Just finished writing the script for FTV finals. Woookkeeekeeekooookooo!

It involves basketball, X-box, crutches, Red Bull (Aiman =3), and a Harmonica.

I can see the sceene in my head. My round, rainbow, spiralling mind.

Mmm...rainbow paddle pop ice-cream.

Paddle pop. HEY!

Paddle pop.

HEY!

SUPER-DUPER YARMY!





Nyaa...

Coffee starting to wear out. Phew.

yeah.

Mm.

Oh yeah.

OPH YEAH!

RAWR!! O_O

Monkey. Possessing. My glutus-maximus.

Oh.

Dear Monkey. Why do you torment me so?
All I did was summon your primate-powers to aid me in my quest for eternal coffee high.
Dear, dear monkey, won't you tell Funshine Bear to add me on msn? And threaten to possess her toothbrush before her bedtime.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
...thou art his sunshine...his one annd only, girl...

You make me OOH-OOH-AHH-AHH!
...you be causing him to go ape-shit...

When skies are gray.
...when they be grayer-hatin', yo...

You never know dear,
...man, you ain't never know...

How much I NYAA you.
...how much he be NYAA-ing you...



Oooooooo....so please don't take... don't you be taking...my sunshine...his sunshine...

...away.

Nom nom nom nom nom nom nom!

Nom. =3

Updates.

Gustave refuses to update further until he gets funshine bear's msn.

=P

In other news, check out Melissa's online blogshop.
Featuring hand-picked and industry-discounted fashion accessories and clothes. (not pr0n!!1)

...maybe some sexiful leather and latex merchandise.

...and foxy-lady Melissa herself modeling the lingerie line.

...maybe.

Until next time, remember to enjoy Yukiko, the kinky magician, and Aiman, the unrecognised erotica writing genius.


Yukiko recently acquired a beauti-comforta-fugging-ble-ful perfect fitting coat.

We totally went ShoPPiNG!

Argh. Blogger has bold, italics, but no bimbo.

Imagine me saying 'shopppPPPpp-puh-ing!' anyway.


And yes, that is the bastard child of beatiful, comfortable, and Gustave after watching Donnie Darko with diarrhoea.

And yes, that's how its spelt.

And yes, I managed to spot familiarities between Donnie Darko and Doreamon.

And no, its not that Frank the Rabbit and Doreamon are both blue.

And yes, it has something to do with the terms 'predestination paradox' and 'ontological paradox'.

And yes, that's how I spent my last 3 hours; trying to make sense of Donnie Darko with the help of Wikipedia.

And no, I don't know if that's how a semicolon is used.

And yes, one chapter of Doraemon which involved an ontological paradox had me fumbling with the futility of existance on a toilet bowl for half an hour after expelling my last turd. (Doraemon gives Nobita a time stopping clicker. As Nobita exits the room, he hears a voice calling out to Doraemon. He ignores it and goes about fucking up Sinyu and Giant. While fucking around with it, he saves Shizuka from falling down a flight of stairs. He also peeks at her panties. In his shock, he drops the clicker. It breaks and Nobita is unable to unfreeze time. He then crawls into his time-travelling desk and returns to the past, where he crawls out of his desk crying for Doraemon just as his past self leaves the room.

In summary, Doraemon gives Nobita time-freezing clicker. Nobita fucks with it and permanantly freezes time. Nobita returns to past and obviously fails to stop himself from fucking up the universe...because he did indeed have to have fucked up time in order to justify going back in time whining for Doraemon's help.

And that, boys and girls, is how Nobita Nobi manages to put an end to the universe, long before the Heat Death of the universe occurs, in less than 6 comic pages.

Thank you, Mr. Fujio F. Fujiko, for condemning a 14 year-old, taking a shit with toilet reading, to the sad realization of existential futility. Thank you very, very much, right in the ear.)

And yes, it is perfectly normal to read comics while taking a dump.

And yes, I know you do it too.




And yes. A nice update will come soon. Based on:

a) how soon Funshine Bear's msn becomes known to me, and

b) when I penetrate and crush my assignments...in the most metaphorical sense, and

c) when I decide to abuse caffeine at 10 pm.



Mmm.

Yeah.

Um.




Anyhoo.

Brb. Need to shit.

Happy Zombie Jesus Day!

"Today is Good Friday, observed by Christians worldwide as a day that commemorates the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, whose death redeemed the sins of mankind."




"Today is Good Friday, observed worldwide by Jesus buffs as the day on which the popular, bearded cultural figure, sometimes referred to as The Messiah, was allegedly crucified and (according to legend) died for mankind's so-called sins. Today kicks off a 'holy' weekend that culminates on Easter Sunday, when, it is widely believed, this dead 'savior' (who also, by the way, claimed to be the son of a sky-dwelling, invisible being known as God) mysteriously 'rose from the dead.'

According to the legend, by volunteering to be killed and actually going through with it, Jesus saved every person who has ever lived (and every person who ever will live) from an eternity of suffering in a fiery region popularly known as hell, providing (so the story goes) that the person to be 'saved' firmly believes this rather fanciful tale."

In loving memory of George Carlin.
...He's down there, screaming up at us!

Story by sound

Not by words.

Ok. Here's how you play Story by Sound: Listen to the audio track carefully, then write out the narrative, the script, the story, or whatever you think happened in the comments section.

Have fun!

MySpace Music Playlist at MixPod.com

Listen to both of em.

Cheers.

The Killers are not killers.

Brandon Flowers stopped the show halfway...

:(

...when he spotted a fight going on!

"Whoa. Whoa! Stop. Stop that. Ok. Stop the music. You guys gotta stop fighting. We've come here today to bring people together, not to kill someone."

Like I said. The Killers are not killers.

BRANDON FLOWERS FTW!

Jesus Pwn3d U

Tired

Too tired to think. Film and TV assignments. Graphic designing editorials.

So here goes.

This is a shout out to Aiman, Vic, Hugo, Shanti, Syed, and Hans.

You guys are totally on the "Gustave's highly-unlikely-to-ever-come-into-existence-superhero-or-medieval-comic-heroes-main-cast".

Complete with trademark one-liners and sexy, shiny tights.

Well.

Except maybe Shanti.

Yeah.

Coz.

Uh-huh.

Too late.

That image is totally not going away.

Especially if it's yellow and purple.

With red boots and a cape.



XD



Vic was right. We need to set the world on fire.

Btw, Syed. Hugo suggested that the 3 of us walk on stage naked and do an Oscar-winning 10 minute inpromptu.

I'm thinking somewhere along the lines of Quentin Tarantino.



Shanti, sorry for the uh...

Yeah. Haha.


And Aiman, call me. Or msn at least.


Hans and Hugo, keep the Ultimate Secret safe.

"Kukurela are my friends."

Stale beer.

We drink. We dance. We piss on people's shrubbery.

Yay. Haha. Dance the night away.
Whee. Jiang-Jiang! The scout update's a blaze!

Cold, dry wind and unforgiving sun, burn my skin.
Bring on the cancer and croak up my voice.

Oh my.

Oh my.


Oh my beautiful. Beautiful voice.

Projection. Attention. Erection.
Remember the days we had on stage?



Hardcore, non-stop, living for the moment.

For the spotlight.

For the tears, the roars, the laughs.

The standing ovations.

Alcohol has raped my throat. Oh absolut-ly.

Honey, honey, honey.

...Mmm, so yummy.
It's a monosaccharide's world.


June says Abba is gay.

Shame upon thee! If Abba is gay, then gay I shall be!

...and I guess that sorta explains the Fatimah episode.

Anyhoo.

I miss Iris.

Her six strings. And just when I learned how to play "Pussy-Meow-Meow" on her.


No shong. No shingalong. No, I can't stop loving you.



Thanks for the Blues,

the Blinks,

the Hallelujahs.

Joo noe hu joo ...ah.

Blue orchids.
Vanilla vodka.

An editorial layout for Quentin Tarantino perhaps?
Or Eric Clapton?
Tim Burton?

Sam Hui?



Guns, God, and Goons.

Bullets, Booze, and Bloodstains.

One more week, then it's off to the beach!

To the rink, to the clubs, to the guitar store, to The Killers!
Hopefully.




Till then, settle down, buck up, and don't give in.

The encores will just have to wait.

"Kukurela are my friends."

I can has a DSLR.

Yay. Got the Canon 450 D with double IS lens.

Let the shooting begin!

(18-55mm lens)

Why so serious?

(Slightly out of focus, with flash, producing spooky eye effect.)

Whoa. Nice.

(A little under-exposed. The brightness, of course. Thx for posing, btw.)

The Gustave is here! Clad in T-shirt and pajamas!

(Over-exposed. Slow shutter speed captures 'motion-blur' or ghostly figures.)

Off we go! Till next time! Over and out.

Malaysia Boleh!

Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Bee...




Scene: A cafeteria in Bentley- Perth, and a toilet in Sydney.



"...so, how's your play doing? The actors ok?"

"Well...I'm taking a crap now, and the toilets are hollow and people can hear me. I don't wanna comment and offend anyone...so you know la..."

"..."

"...yeah..."

"So...bagaimanakah play kamu? Pelakon-pelakon ada bagi masalah tak?"

"Oh...sebenarnya...HOHOHOHHOHHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!! You bastard!! HOO-HOO HAHHAHAHAHA!"

"...HAHAHHAHAHAHHA! You got it, right? Pffftthahahahahahha!"

"AHAHAHAH! YEAH! AHAHAH....whoooo! This is truly Malaysia Boleh wei!"



I miss nasi lemak. =<

Dear Meme (Mum)

Dear Meme,

Hi. Yeah, food is simple. Have yet to cook spaghetti.
Bank account all settled. It's on campus. I got my debit card.

Applied for Book Grant.
Won concert tickets worth $240 in a watermelon eating contest.
Concert this sunday 1st March. Justin driving me there. He will not drive while drunk.
Justin happened to beat me in the watermelon eating contest but I got tickets anyway.

Class started already.
The camera has no manual override for ISO aperture control.
Lecturer says manual aperture control is compulsory for the coursework.

Making lots of friends from all over the world.

They should give us air conditioners in our rooms instead of heaters.

Vodafone and most other mobile operators give $150 credit at the price of $30.

Girl in facebook photo is a friend from Malaysia.
Met her at forensics.
Her name is Hera.

Meeting Angie on Saturday for dinner. Will check with Angie about healthcare and driving lessons.

Keeping receipts and will compose weekly report.
Got 5% discount with a $95 giftcard from coles worth $100.

Need to get flip-flops and boarding shorts.
Checked out the beach.
Scarborough is beautiful with clear green waves.

Have yet to ge...

Will not get piss drunk.

Flatmate Anders from Norway taught me how to do laundry.
I did my first laundry today and have decided only to wear white socks if, and only if, absolutely necessary and no other alternative is available.

:)

And I now have a controlled form of diarrhoea.

Meaning I don't feel uncontrollable urge to splatter the toilet bowl but when I do have to go.

It splatters.

Too much cheese.

Flatmate I'm sharing bathroom with put up note on mirror politely asking me to clena up bathroom due to ...a certain habit I have when facing a mirror in privacy.

:P

Suitcase is still sitting in the middle of room. Half unpacked.
Feet and shoes REALLY starting to stink. Will purchase odour eaters or some powder.

In the meantime I'm glad I brought along 300 ml of purfume although you frowned upon it.

Will have to get flip-flops very soon.



Going to free welcome dinner of Kurrajong Village now.
Name of my campus area.

Does Spike miss me and is he eating properly?

This is Gus. Over and out.

AIMAN IS BACK, MOTHALOVERS!!!

OMGWTFBBQHOLYSHYTTHISISAWESOMEFTWILIKEGREENTEALATTES!!

The zombie-apocalypse is here.
Bring friends.

Aiman is back.
Zombies beware.

If you can't beat em.
Arrange to have them beaten.

The world isn't ready for Hugo.

When all is said and done,
More is said than done.

Aiman Arif AKA Raphael Ayre is back on the blogging scene. With ramblings more randomly entertaining than your's truly (sort of like that kid back in school everyone steered clear off and always kept an eye on in school...OH, you KNOW what I'm talking about), sentence structures more complicated than learning how to play Starcraft: The Board Game through sign language from a guy with 2 fingers and 3 thumbs on Opposite Day with a really bad hangover, and humour only the few who watch The Office and 30 Rock will enjoy.


That's right.

I'm talking to you.

The one surrounded by spiky haired CHEEniuses.

The one who laughs silently at packs of Ah Bengs waging a war of words.

Over a game of DotA that happened 4 months ago that noone really remembers.



If you happen to be among the masses who's idea of a good blog includes tons of cam-whore pictures, random pictures of celebrities, music that MTV endorses (conveniently hidden on a player hidden among the seizure-inducing orgy of GlitterText and rainbow pegasi (plural form of pegasus)), then ignore this grand announcement of the second-cumming of Raph...


...FOURTH cumming of Raphael Ayre!



And go watch your High School Musical.
















Alrighty. I suppose I owe you guys...well, those who don't suffer from ADD or Penise-itis.

Enjoy.




http://nsfw-comix.com/nsfw175.htm







Btw.

You clicked those links, didn't you?

=P