it's a pseudo-world

watched thirty days of night on a wednesday night; a pseudo-horror-movie which is really a comedy. it never ceases to mortify, and in doing so effectively stakes its claim as one of the worst pictures of the year. the plot, if there's one to speak of, tells of vampires who repeatedly insist they're very thirsty (apparently they're thirsty for human blood only 30/365 days annually), and another reason why they choose to terrify the homo sapiens, both characters in the movie and the audience, albeit in vastly different ways, is that they want us to realise that they are real, and are not part of some myth/ folklore/ legend, either way you want to see it. it's perfectly complemented by our hero, a cop who does not seem to have acquired any prior firearms licence, and instead succumbs to his innate fetish for the axe (he uses it to hack down these beasts, with also accounts for the M18 rating FYI)

the tattooist wasn't much better, but unless rotten tomatoes pays me for a review it's not worth it to write another one

sentosa on thursday; mou must have prayed really hard for the sun to come out because it was the fiercest sun i've been under in a long time. also featured prominently pseudo-prawns, and strangely modified truth-dares HA, but all in good spirit

yesterday was a pseudo-party, pseudo because the original intention behind the whole party vaporised in the first twenty minutes, and a romantic pseudo-soccer match which ended under calamitous circumstances

planning of the last month of liberty will take place today. i've to get my fitness up and running (it's not a pun), start charting my career path, and iron out a few lingering issues

When you told me that you loved me
were those just words
You can't tell me you don't need me
and I know that hurts

it's just a nice song