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Yeah I’m chinese, and what?
Yeah you know who this is, Jin
And let me just tell you this
The days of the pork fried rice and the chicken wings
comin to ur house by me is over

Ya’ll gonna learn Chinese
Ya’ll gonna learn…

(holds fast forwards button for about 7 seconds)

… cowboys roam through like Clint Eastwood
I wish you would come to Chinatown
Get lost in town, end up in the lost in found
Eyewitnesses, you must be crazy
We don’t speak English, we speak Chinese
And the only…

(skips to next track)

Lately I’ve been wonderin’ who I am
because it’s coming clear that there’s a world of things
that I don’t quite understand
I’ve always…

(skips to next track)
.
.
Post-skipping Scenario
Mad Dude: Oi! What you doing?
Darryl: Nothing.
Mad Dude: Skip tracks for fucks ah?
Darryl: Er…

It’s an awkward habit indeed - skipping tracks before giving the band the liberty to convey their messages.

But I do it. Often enough to frustrate the living hell out of the people around me.

Why?

• It allows me to listen to up to 107* songs in an hour. After all variety’s a spice of life.
  * My personal best record
• It keeps my finger busy. That explains why my remote batteries die so soon.
• It gets boring after a song rambles on for 43 seconds as I already know how’s the song going to be for the next 3 minutes. Sometimes 4. Or 5. 6? That’s way too long!
• Lyrics are meant for karaoke junkies, the depressed and bastards who are just plain bored. Screw lyrics. I want the tune to fire me up to press on the skip button.
  What on earth is Nice Stupid Playground singing in their catchy single, Bedroom Window? Also, good luck understanding Jason Lo’s Evening News.

Great songs are written to be skipped or fast-forwarded.

.
.
… been way too hard
Now I’m a mess
I think we only need one channel less…

(skips to next track)
.
.

Courtesy of PugFun.com.

I’m sorry, b|aZEcaT. I was a prick before.
I missed you.

Courtesy of The Coastal Repertory Theatre.

I HATE stacked dirty dishes. Hate it. Hate it. The base get all greesy and I just hate touching them when I’m washing them - a good reason why I would never wash dishes for a Chinese restaurant. :)

I admit I’ve got a quirky behavior when it comes to cleanliness. Hey, it’s not like everyday you see someone licking his own toilet.

So when it comes to plates, for heaven’s sake please use your fingers to separate the plates when you bring them to me for washing!

I promise I wouldn’t bite.

Packing Day commences tomorrow.

I hate packing. But I love unpacking when I’m at my new place. It’s a neat way of giving my room a fresh coat of life.

Oh screw it. Who am I kidding? The new room is smaller; but it comes with an air-conditioner! Spring was here last month and it’s cursing us with 35ºC worth of heat on this coming Thursday.

I am actually quite excited to move in with The Player. He’s a pretty cool guy and we got along very well since we first met. We’ve been hanging out since I moved in next door.

We have quite an interesting friendship circle here. In fact, it’s a slight resemblance of NBC’s hit comedy F-R-I-E-N-D-S:

• We seldom/do not lock our doors.
• We cross over to each other’s house alot, except that we occasionally knock.
• The Monica and Chandler pair - Gus and Jessie.
• Chandler - Gus; laughs at own jokes while no one else around him really gets it.
• Monica - Jessie; talks too loud.
• Joey - The Player, except that he remembers the name of every girls’ that he brought home.
• Ross - Myself, being the nerdy and dorky one who has only dated one girl and can’t flirt. Looking for a Rachel Green. He sometimes behaves weirdly.
• The Player has most likely slept with all the Phoebes and Rachels that came into our life.

But anyway…

Where do I begin packing?