Therefore, I am going to unravel the mystery of why I have been kept busy the whole of December.
And there is only 1 answer to that. Fat Camp.
No la, that was a joke. I'm so slim, I don't need Fat Camp. It's none other than basketball training.
As they say, 2 trainings a day keeps the trophy nearer.. and nearer. So for the past 4 weeks or so, exluding Saturdays, Sundays, public holidays and times where I've been overseas, we've been training our ass off for 2 times a day, 3 times a week. Yes, my butt now has muscles.
Some of the photos below were taken from Yan Yan's website.
Polaroid of Zhi Hui and me, and a little bit of Kalai, who cut herself off unsuspectingly in the self taken shot. We were waiting for Coach to pick us up to Unity Sec. Notice my chin was still scar-less.
One day after morning training, Yan Yan, Michelle and Xiao Hei decided to try out breakdancing moves, with hilarious results.
After the friendly with Autofocus, most of us were very exhausted. We had morning training that day, then Inter-hall, followed by the friendly. Still managed to put up a smile though. Going home after that was a long and ardous journey as the legs were sore.
After friendly with Autofocus, Kalai started to feed everyone with Subway cookies. See behind me and Yan Yan for example.
It was Christmas Eve, so we had a half-day training only. (Yay) We did exchange of presents too, and dressed in red and green for the occassion. Sadly, only 2 came in green, and Yan Yan came in white with a converse star on her jersey. We picked lots for the presents. Felicia got my present, a pair of Nike socks, while I got a storage box from Kalai.
We tried to form a Christmas tree.
Well, time flies and it is only one more week before the tournament starts. Being in the Group of Death is no fun, but it does make us work harder. I believe that the hard work that we've put in, including having to wake up at 6am to get to training in time, will give us the physical strength to put up a good fight against our opponents.
The scar at the bottom of my chin will be my motivation.
2:13 AM
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Reasons why exploring a country by yourself is better than following a tour group.
1. You get to plan everything, like booking an air ticket and knowing a hotel room awaits you after landing.
Instead of, say, taking a midnight flight, landing in Taipei early morning the next day and not being able to check in because "check in time is at 3pm, sir". What do you do nex? You (and your whole family) try to walk from the hotel to Ximending because you have so much time to spare, and end up walking half of the city because you went the wrong way, only reaching Ximending 2+ hours later.
2. You get to spend quality time exploring every sight.
Case in point: Jiu Fen, a winding and narrow street that streches for miles atop a hill. When by yourself, you get to walk the whole stretch, go down plenty of steps and listen to jokes about "groins".
When with a tour group, and on a SATURDAY afternoon, you have 1 hour to eat lunch and walk the bloody crowded stretch. By the time lunch was done, half an hour had gone. We went as far as ten shops down, gave up, and turned back to the starting point to wait for the rest. And queue for the toilet.
3. You don't end up in presentations about highly priced products you don't even need.
Case in point: Two places. One "Princess Mo mo" and one shop that sold jade lion pieces.
In each location, we are brought in to a room, be sat down, and (forced to) listened to a painfully long explanation about the products. In the case of the second shop, a long lecture about luck, fengshui, and blah blah blah. While seated, am just chanting "waste of time, waste of time" in head. Stop trying to disguise these hardsell, unorthadox, promotion methods of useless products as educational lectures of general knowledge. It's a bloody waste of my tourist time. I think I gain more breathing in air from the outdoors of the foreign land than sitting down in that room being brainwashed.
After having the experience of going to countries by myself and exploring them own time, own target, I feel that tour groups are nothing but manipulative, bloodsucking and useless. For goodness sake, I would rather play poker cards in a coffee place in Myongdong, Korea all day than listen to another word of the "princess mo mo who lived in Sun Moon Lake". Tour groups try the hardest to squeeze every tourist dollar out, leaving no mercy for the unsuspecting tourist who thinks he or she is going to a place of interest. Having time constraints for exploring a place of interest just because the itenary for the next few destinations are these crap shops makes no sense, because the tour group is not respecting the time which the tourist has forked out for the tour. The value of the country in which the tourist hopes to gain isn't there. It is tourism at its lowest, as the travel agency, instead of showing the tourist the beauty of the country, does the reverse and shows the tourist the ugly side of capitalism. On the other hand, travel agencies and tour guides may argue that that is the way they can earn money- through commission offered by such places which otherwise may not get much business from the local people. That is the way they make their living, and sadly, it is through exploiting the time and money of tourists. Perhaps, this may be the reason why tourism is always able to generate a lot of income for a country.
Therefore, I shall avoid tours like the plague, for there are better ways to gain the beauty of a country. Being exploited not being one of them.
8:53 PM
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
"Ho, ho, ho." The "ho" stands for "Holiday".
It was only 7 months ago where I left sunny Singapore for this place with 3 other girls, wrote a whole lot of wordy sentiments about it and kept holding on to those memories lest my work in the office sucked me dry of all social emotions.
Then poof! Here I am, at home, with a lot of opened suitcases, looking at strewn clothes everywhere, and watching my big sister perform a show where she dons different tops each time she walks out the room. My mother is panicking, trying to tell us to bring things in small quantities. She tried to convince me not to bring any shampoo over, but after having disastrous hair the last time, I vehemently protested.
Seriously, this family's full of theatrics.
And then, while everyone is counting down to the Christmas of 08', I'll be stuck in a plane which smells of canned air and hoping that nothing explosive happen at the end of 3, 2, 1 other than a friendly "Merry Christmas" from the pilot.
It's been 4 to 5 years since the family has taken a vacation together. Well, this time round, it can't quite count as a family vacation since the brother isn't going. He has been replaced by the future brother-in-law, who, at least will make good conversation pieces. I have been pestering my dad to tell me what's the itenary, but all he would reveal was "Eh, you think I don't know where is Yang Ming Shan? I know okay. I got go before one okay."
Ya. On His Honeymoon 24 years ago!
With that little bit of nonchalance towards the rest of the people having a wet Christmas Eve in Singapore (I would want to put my hand on my armpit and make the chicken wing move and go "Sayonara, suckers!", but I do realise i am 21 now. And my sister pointed out that we're not going to Japan.), and that little surprise excitment on where the hell we're going, I think we're going to have ourselves a good trip.
And maybe, just maybe, survive each other's antics while at it.
Cos that's what make us family, isn't it?
7:00 PM
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
The Yuletide Spirit in 2008
In the blink of an eye, it's the christmas season once again. Orchard Road is filled with seas and mountains of heads- dyed, balding and/or otherwise. Huge pine trees, fancifully decorated, stand in shopping malls, greeting visitors with a "Danger-High Voltage" sign. And while we hear the chatter of excited christmas shoppers talking about getting lucky under the mistletoe, I can hear the sound of various objects dropping out from the pocket.
Why yes, can't you see, that there is a rather huge hole in the pocket.
The hole is still increasing, because Christmas isn't over till the fat lady, or in this case a man because he's Santa Claus, sings.
In this week alone, my expenditure from gift exchanges and birthdays have been rising so rapidly I fear people can see my underwear from the hole in the pocket. Thankfully, my air ticket to Taiwan will stopper the hole, because, it won't be my pocket that will be feeling the heat over there (hehe). Tomorrow, before my flight leaves during midnight, I still have an impending basketball training session in Anti-You where the captain has given us orders to wear either red or green jerseys. Actually, I really think it will be fun, and even suggested that we pile ourselves up into a pyramid and one person shall hold a star. Either that, or we do a 1-2-3 formation on court, bringing in the coach to be the extra man so at least, we have ourselves a chrismas formation.
Well, I think too much, don't I?
Merry Christmas, anyway, everyone! Have yourself a jolly good time! (but watch that waist while at it, too)
12:21 PM
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Bush ducks two shoes.
the only question in my mind when viewing this video is, why didn't the fella aim properly?
8:33 PM
Friday, December 19, 2008
"Doesn't look that bad, does it?"
- Christmas '08 with the SR ballers.
3:06 PM
Thursday, December 18, 2008
南大，加油！
11:17 PM
In Stitches.
Thought I could avoid a common childhood injury by turning 21.
Still, my dumb move on the court had me in stitches. 2 to be exact. And a huge bandage under my chin to which my mum said, "now you look like Santa Claus".
Not painful at all, but it has forced me to stop all my physical activities. Which sucks, because I am just about to get my stamina back on track. Argh!
I'm going out on a limb to say this, (ha! Pun intended) but the new year's resolution shall be no facial injuries in 2009!
11:24 AM
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Basketball from 2000-?.
fig. 1
Today, I managed to sneak in a little time before my inter-hall game in Anti-You for a friendly game in my mother school. The A girls, as we are now called, went up against the B and C girls of Presbyterian High School.
Only a handful came. However, it was quite a nice feeling to be back in that school. The gray, concrete floor of the basketball court has given way to a blue one, and the benches filled with red ants and tall trees which provided much wanted shade were gone. Thankfully, the people whom I trained with for that 4 years were still the same. And Hui Zhen did remark that I am still funny, if not funnier, after all these years.
The thought of having to run outside the school every single saturday morning is still fresh in my mind. First, an uphill slope, then we'll see the market, then a downhill slope and finally the end. Sounds short, but I bet it was almost 2km. Come to think of it, those runs were responsible for my 23" waistline, which has also become nothing but a memory.
Another fond memory (and this, I am thankful it remains a memory) was the very cool hairstyle I sported. Check out fig 1. It was called the mushroom, much similar to the one growing above Mdm Ang, the home economics teacher's head. Some time ago, I had stumbled onto some photos which a friend possessed where the friend was posing with some other friend in 2000 something and I was walking right behind, oblivious to the photo-taking. There, I saw my fourteen year old self with the Mushroom, socks that went up to my ankles, and shorts that revealed my (can i say sexy) thigh. It was an honest mistake though, because my dictionary had not contained the word "fashion faux pas" at that time. The first thing that I told Hui Zhen when I saw her today was that I had upgraded from being a forward (actually I was a guard) to being centre because I grew taller. The centres in B and C division basketball were usually the tallest and bulkiest. Looking back, I believed it was the ballooning in waist size that allowed me to become a centre. I was so skinny then, like a beanpole before O levels came and stopped all sports activities. Now I can hardly fit into Europe Size 36 whenever I try on jeans at Mango.
Oh well.
After some time at the court, where the highlight was one spectacular stunt of hitting the ball into a lamp-post with deadly accuracy , I had to rush over to the obscure university for the inter-hall game of what else, basketball.
I think, try as I might, I'll never be able to quit basketball like the way Heath Ledger can't quit Jake Gyllenhal in Brokeback Mountain. Like what Amanda said, it'll be fricking cool when we're playing basketball while our kids sit by the side to cheer for us.
My kid will be standing there, with the Mushroom on her head, socks that go up to her knees and teeny fbt shorts, holding up a poster that says "My mummy will kick your mummy's ass". And maybe then, will I consider quitting the game.
10:57 PM
Monday, December 15, 2008
Cruises are orgies for old people in disguise. (A biased and possible-unfactual opinion about cruises from a bored-to-death passenger)
The father announced one day that I was the chosen Tan kid that he had selected to go on a cruise with him and the mother. And so I hatched a plan to become their favourite kid in the course of the cruise.
Right before we went aboard the mighty Superstar Virgo, I sent a message to my big sis. “My quest to be the most beloved Tan kid has just begun.”
She returned my message with this. “Have fun…………………… loser.”
Did I mention my sister looked really fat on my birthday? That’s beside the point, though.
It was my first time on board a huge ship, and triggered a lot of “Titanic-ish” moments. Sadly, those moments were with my parents, and not any Leonardo DiCaprio look-alike. I do not wish to elaborate on these moments because it involved some hanky-panky by my father, which led to some “oie, go away la” by my mother, and then it was all me and my ipod, and my back facing them.
Since it was my first time on a cruise, I was quite amazed that the whole ship was well stocked with food for all meals. Anywhere with three meals is by default, fine by me. However, a sense of unease washed over me when it was 9pm the first night, and the lights of construction cranes at Sentosa was still in the background.
We’ve been on the bloody ship for 2 whole hours and it hadn’t moved yet?!
However, it started cruising at 10pm, and we saw the sunny island set in the sea drifting further and further away. And our trip to nowhere officially begins.
I abandoned my quest to be the favourite kid in the Tan household when my mum tried to wake me up after I fell asleep watching wave after wave of the sea crushing onto each other and I refused. “Let’s explore the ship,” my mum said as she nudged me. Finally she said, “There’s supper you know.”
In a flash, we were up and walking about, into the casino and out, into the photo gallery and out, into the buffet table and out. My dad’s friend, his wife and his daughter, who had been my colleague for some time were also on the ship, and so thankfully I had a companion of my own age.
There were three kinds of guests on the ship. One- the old folks who come to eat their fill, and gamble the days away. They did not care that the ship was just going to the middle of nowhere, then turning back to Singapore, they cared more about their jackpot winnings and poker card games. Two, the sua ku people who wanted to see how it was like to be on a cruise, which is the category my parents fall into.Three- the younger folks who were dragged along by their parents, like me.
The reason why I said that cruises are akin to orgies for the old, is because of the fact that it is. While the Beverly Hills 90210 wannabes engage in sex orgies, and the reason being they love sex, the old are not as nimble and therefore, they switch from a love of sex to a love of money. (See, I did say this is a biased and possibly un-factual opinion) Just looking at them, with nary a care, placing bets and smoking cigarettes makes me want to take a stick and whack them real hard.
Why I have the urge to whack them, I do not know. I find no meaning in gambling.
Which makes me very grateful for my parents, who are such good role models, albeit sometimes too good for comfort, but still, the most perfect parents I could ever ask for.
For the rest of the three-days two-nights cruise, I ate to the fullest with my parents. I guess food has some sort of relation with gambling. More food, more gambling? That’s the only reason why I feel they keep the whole ship well stock with a free flow of food throughout the day.
Also went to the gym, where I spent 10 minutes running the treadmill while staring at the big, wide ocean. Julie, the daughter of my father’s friend, brought me to the sauna so that we can sweat out whatever we ate.
The best part of the trip was looking out to the sea with her on the upper deck in the middle of the night, where it was open-air, and just chatting about anything and everything. We saw shadows of hills from faraway islands, blinking satellites trying to disguise themselves as stars, and a kindly old man look-a-like made in the shape of clouds.
And there we were, just enjoying the calmness of the ocean.
Ironically, atop a gambling ship where turmoil and high stakes reign.
Oh! Bonus! We got to see a 45 minute showcase of Jeff Chang, the same dude who gave us hits like “过火”and “爱如潮水”.
Jeff Chang! OR 张信哲
Mummy and Papa.
And finally, the beautiful sea.
11:35 PM
Friday, December 12, 2008
and I shall be off, to the borders of the sea to relax the exhausted mind to take a little time and coax my parents into thinking, I'm their only one. (teehee)
be back on monday! Technically, Sunday afternoon.
2:44 PM
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Early birds get the worm.
I woke up pretty early just now, in anticipation of having to ride the "지할철" to school today for training.
Then my big sister, half asleep, said in a groggy voice the golden words. "You can take the car today."
Which means that "시간이 있어요".
Hence, I will post up some "사진" of my "생일파티".
This bunch got tired after a while and decided to sit down to watch TV. See, Clara's still watching.
Basketball mates! How come Amanda and YZ look so white eh?
Did I mentioned I got mugged that day? By 4 paper gun-toting, garbage bag-masked women.
Anti-You basketball team!
They were listening attentively to...
...Cathy's shrieking voice.
And so are they.
Anyway, I have a tonne more pictures that I myself have not taken from others yet, so there are "정말 많이" pictures not yet uploaded into fb. So just hold on, and watch this space for more.
7:38 AM
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Where's the "me" in "Time"?
From a very long time ago, I have heard the phrase "you very busy one la" said to my face many, many times. My secondary school friends started the trend, then my jc friends continued, and after so long, Joyce asked me if I had any "me" time at all.
Hmm. "Me" time. A period of time where one sits down, relax, and do whatever the hell he or she wants in the comfort of her own skin without any other human being around.
The truth is, ever since the day I started to be a referee, I created a schedule such that there will be something happening everyday. Today, a few games at this venue, tomorrow a gathering, the next day another few games. Then, I took on two tuition kids as well. That was when I divided my timetable for the day into three parts- morning, afternoon and night. I could have tuition in the morning, then rush down for refereeing in the afternoon, and at night, maybe a nice dinner with some friends.
It snowballed when school started and I decided to join the Anti-You basketball trainings. On average, I trained three times a week during competitive season with the Anti-You team, and one more with the external team. Sometimes, the external teammates would play ball on certain evenings, and I would always try my very best to be there. Which means that my day was packed with school and my nights were packed with basketball. On saturdays, there was, and still is, the BBAXN league, where the external team will pit ourselves with mostly Caucasian women. After my game, sometimes, I would stay back to referee the BBAXN Mens' games in the evening. On Sundays, there would always be gatherings of every sort- the junior college gang, the secondary school gang, or maybe a get-together at the coach's house.
Looking back at this horrendously grueling schedule that I put myself through, it's no wonder I have no "me" time at all.
This holiday, it is happening again. Besides having Anti-You trainings three times a week, I am helping out my friend's Hall in the Inter-Hall Games, and I have the Inter-School Games chasing me as well. Plus, because this is the holidays, I need to earn the extra buck too. Which means refereeing on free days. This week, for example, is packed to the brim.
I got to wondering, is everyone as busy, or is it just me?
However, I do admit that no matter how tiring, it works for me. Maybe it's the closet workaholic in me, but I would still pack the whole of my days in advance, filling up every nook and cranny with anything, including short brunches and late night movies.
It's not very healthy though, because I always have no time to stop and appreciate the things that happened. Time go so fast, and before I know it, so many things just whiz pass and hey presto, I'm 21.
I think I have my 2009 new year's resolution already. Which I will, fingers crossed, manage to fufill.
In 2009, I hope that I can wake up, and be able to smell the coffee too.
11:30 PM
Sunday, December 07, 2008
The art of writing.
When I was much younger, I loved to do "Written Expression" in school. The teacher would give us a topic to write on, and I would launch into this alternate world where so many adventures happen.
This particular time, she made us write about our future occupations. She had these stickers of teachers, nurses, doctors and so on. I remembered the whole class of 40 clambering for the "teacher" sticker, including me. Funny it didn't occur to the teacher that one viable occupation could be "film director", or I would have punched, kicked and elbowed my way through for that sticker.
Then there was another time, in Primary 4, where we had to write either about a buried treasure or about a pirate ship. Pirates of the Carribean, my story ain't, as I tried to cramp so many elements into my 400 words story. My main protagonist got kidnapped by pirates, then stumbled on an island with a buried treasure chest. When he opened the chest, hey presto, he found a ball with seven stars (thank goodness there are no copyright laws on primary school essays). I wanted to write more, to show off Louise Stevenson's immense influence on me, thanks to my mother's insistance that I buy the hard cover Treasure Island, where the prose was written in confusing old English.
However, the most significant piece that I have written was not my pirate-and-qi long zhu story, nor was it the pseudo-inspired-to-be-a-teacher story, but a story about the mysterious 4-letter word. Yes, when I was a Primary School kid, I tried my hand at writing a love story.
The title? Oh, I get the goosebumps when I think about it. "Being loved."
As ridiculous as this sounds, I wrote the story because of a really good reason- my sister wrote one too. She had written this story called "If I was loved", which she let me read. She was in upper primary then, and I was in lower primary. If you thought about it, it was just about that era where we kids would spend our 7pms and 9pms watching the drama serials on Channel 8. There were plenty of stories on that channel, but boy, there were plenty of love affairs, triangles, angry-neighbours-turned-lovers stories, etc, etc. My sister, especially, would always think that rape will come upon every character she hated. (And she was kinda half-right, which is scary, if you think about it).
Her story was simple. It was about a girl who falls in love with a guy, and he would buy everything she wants for her. They would go out, have romantic strolls, and I seriously forgot how it ended. But I was fascinated. And because the rule of nature states that sisters must copy each other till the very end, I started with my story. I didn't take long to think, instead I delved right into my very own love story. I remembered the plot- it was about a girl who falls in love with a guy, then all the saccharine, diabetic things happen. But, something else happened.
In comes an ex-boyfriend, which all tv serials employ, thereby creating a sad, sad love triangle for the main protagonist. Amazing. I know how to create conflict in stories before I know I have to create conflict in stories to make them interesting. I forgot how the story ended, but I do know that the protagonist had to suffer for a while. The story is now lost forever, in a A5 sized, double-lined exercise book that has been dumped, incinerated, and probably recycled as yet another double-lined exercise book. It's gone for infinity now, but the title still makes me cringe.
I gave the story to my sister to read, hoping, like all little sisters do, that she would clap her hands and shout "Bravo, bravo". The reaction I got, however, was typical behaviour of older sisters. She merely laughed and said "Eeeew, why you go and write such a disgusting story?"
"But you also write what!" I retorted. "Ya, but my title is like the "what if" sort. Your one is like true story. You are disgusting!" She said.
I went "argh" (equivalant of every other bad word. Kids had limited vocabulary.) when she presented her argument. Back then, her argument made sense, and I thought she had me beaten, and that the love story I wrote was indeed disgusting.
Maybe now that I'm older and wiser, I could have looked back at the story I wrote, and evaluate if it was disgusting or not (I distinctively remembered there were no kissing scenes at all). But perhaps, because of this incident, I became very interested in writing stories. I always hoped that I wrote good stories that could make people laugh and cry. And I did acheive the former. I made my secondary school teacher laugh with a story about a girl who tried to sell her dad's ugly tiki statue.
It is time, to try gunning for the latter now. Or even mix it up. Stories are like roller-coasters. Not everyone may want to sit on it, but those who don't sit on it are still fascinated by it. They can feel every plunge, every turn, every loop as if they are sitting in there, together with the crazy dudes with the deathwish.
And hey, it may sound like a far-off idea, and I'd hate to admit it, but maybe, just maybe, it was the "disgusting love story" that got me here in this point in my life. She who love roller coasters will end up designing roller coasters.
Now, who said sibling rivalry was unhealthy again?
8:01 PM
Saturday, December 06, 2008
Happy Birthday, Me.
3rd December marked the day I officially become 21- the age where time starts to zoom past real quick and by the time you know it, you'll be 30 plus and wondering where your life went.
Decided to have a party, for the first time in my life, to celebrate this moment with my family, friends and not forgetting the people from my Dad's company.
Was humbled by the presence of the friends who came when it was mid-week and some having school and work the very next day. Some of the people I invited told me last minute they couldn't make it. At first, a flurry of anxiousness, then bouts of nervousness. It was my first party and I was a nervous wreck. What if nobody showed?
But they did come. The 4Gracians, the JC gang plus a bonus Sivalingam, the basketball and referee people, my Anti-You teammates and of course, the Wkwsci people who were busy all day helping me out with the whole thing.
Even though the night was a blur to me- seriously, planning my own party is really heavy- I was still glad I managed to spend a little time with each of the different people I had met and made an impact in my 21 years of living. Only regret was not being able to spend more time with each of them, as I believe there will still be much to talk about.
Would like to thank these following people:
Parents- For their hard work in raising me and my other three siblings. They may cringe at every "I love you", or fend away potential hugs like plaque, but they still love us all. And for their sponsorship. Hee.
Joyce, Felicia, Cathy- For being my hosts, and racking their brains on the mrt trying to think of the games to play. And also helping me do all the sai-kang in the afternoon. Collecting a 2.5kg cake and 1.5kg cake is seriously no joke. Well, and of course, for calming me down every time I panick and speak nonsense.
Colleen & her dad- For helping out with the catering. Thanks to her & her dad, got a good deal and very good food. And the sai-kang also, like decorating the guest book. Thanks a lot!
Cheeharn, Clara, Apple, Fizzah, Melissa, Aubree- Who came earlier to help out with the decor and other sai kangs, like starting the bbq fire. Thank you!
The guests who came- Thanks for being there for me. I am really happy to have seen each one of you, and all of you really mean something to me. In a way, we kinda grew up together, and your characters, personalities have shaped who I am today as well. So thank you, for being a friend.
The people who text-ed, and called, and wrote on facebook- Thank you for remembering the day. It's a really good and warm feeling to have people tell you "Happy birthday." It may be 2 simple words, but it feels really significant to me.
Alright. Now that the 21 years are up, I'm pumped up to the rest of my life!
(P.s: Thanks for all the lovely presents! Seriously, I feel superly pampered.)
11:33 AM
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Tsai Ming-Liang's The Hole.
Ahhh... good memories of the times in Yonsei.
6:11 PM
Profile
This is Deanna.
My head is bloodied, but unbowed
Life is a mad, red Rush nowadays
Have moments of randomness
Steps away from the working society and dreading it.
Loves the money, hates the work.br>
Tries to be funny.
Sometimes am.
Loves adventure. Craves for adventure.
Will whistle for cash.
Hopes the fairy tales on tv can apply in real life.
Lives in a state of false consciousness called television.
