Oh.. and on a lighter and more annoyed note, I got stalked again.

How is it that all stalkers are bloody cheekopeks? Why can't they be some incredibly hot guy who will take me out to expensive restaurants, buy me jewellery, take me flying in his brand new private jet, and marry me on a Carribean beach?

This one dressed badly, smelled like smoke, had really really bad teeth and only gave up when I hailed a taxi.

It's terribly hard to let your dreams go. I remember when I was a kid that I desperately wanted to be a model (yeah I can hear you laughing from over here) and then I realised that I wasn't tall enough. Then I went through a phase where all I wanted to be when I grew up was Pegasus. I liked horses, and I liked flying. However, that was when I started reading the Greek myths, and found out that not only did Peggy spring from Medusa's chopped head, but he was in fact, a boy. My dream died when I couldn't find a suitable plastic surgeon.

But really, the most horrible bit is watching other people LIVE them. This is probably why I can't stand people like Tom Cruise and Britney Spears. For all their ridiculous exploits, they are actually living a fantasy. (albeit one with multiple pregnancies and jumping on couches) There are beautiful clothes to be worn, movies to make, and being simlutaneously worshipped around the whole world. The ones that you really need to worship are those that poured blood and soul and came out poorer. Well, I suppose they gained something in a fuzzy, spiritual, we-lost-but-we're-still-a-team kind of way, but hey, I would still rather have the bloody shiny thing on the shelf.

Well well, life goes on. Emo-ness is a pathetic thing really.

I always liked Bambi as a kid. Disney was completely sneaky in killing of Bambi's mom without traumatising the kid audience too much, probably by bringing in the previously absent father (the bastard), and giving Bambi lots of cute friends. My favourite was Thumper, so named because he made thumping noises when he hopped. Thumping may describe the sound of heavy blows, or it may also be taken to mean ass whupping, as demonstrated by Bush after losing to the Democrats.

If this quote from the Straits Times was taken out of context, it would make some kind of sense. Lee Hsien Loong said "It's what makes him a strong leader. I think in shows in these circumstances. Whether the election has a thumping outcome or not, he is in a thumping mood." So Bush is ready to give as good as he gets.

Unfortunately, the PM was really refering to Bush's jovial mood and his promise to keep up the good work in Asia. Evidently, PM Lee needs to go back to reading Enid Blyton. She is an excellent teacher for usage of words like thumping, smashing, crumpet, and golly.

It might be just me, but "thumping" sounds vaguely ridiculous, made worse by being used in the same sentence twice. Maybe the Pm is displaying symptoms of over-exposure to Dubya, and being infected with Bushisms.

Hello everyone. I just went to Caltex House to watch kenneth eat rosti and a sausage. Ben is still not back. There are bright red binders and arch files on my desk from yesterday because we were going through the plaintiff's stuff. We just got our security passes, which by the way, can be easily forged, just paste a passport sized photo of yourself. The security guards don't check these in the mornings, mostly because they're afraid of being trampled to death by a herd of suited and perfumed beasts.

For the third time. someone has given kenneth the wrong name. His security pass, which is stuck with him for one month, reads Drew and Napier LLC
Ocean Towers #17-00
Kenneth Kong

The exec in charge of recruitment has told him that kong is a better name anyway. It sounds refined, unlike kang. which sounds loud. I don't see how you can get any louder than a twenty foot primate beating his chest on top of the Empire State Building. She walked away before I could point that out.

Ben has gone to court, both the Raffles Medical Hospital and the polyclinic, as he calls it. So today, according to his instructions, kenneth kang and I are to take it easy. Unfortunately, there aren't many things to do in a cubicle at Drew and Napier. I know the bloody affadavits as well as Great Expectations, and definitely better than The Great Gatsby. I don't feel so great. It's dress down friday, and even then everyone is wearing freaking stiff collared stuff. Hmm...bored bored bored.

Kenneth has been reduced to opening and closing the CD drive on my com. I have a lousy com. The interns in the other wing have the newer coms with the keyboards that have satisfying "clack" sounds that make what you're doing seem all important and life-saving. I however, have been creating tables on Microsoft Word, because my eunuch computer has no Excel on it. Anyway, Davinder Singh (who everyone here calls DS but Ben doesn't dare talk to) just ambled slowly by. Time to pretend that I'm actually doing something.