<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518</id><updated>2011-04-22T03:48:09.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken faith</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>152</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-114172594173997433</id><published>2006-03-07T18:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-12T12:08:56.300+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Moved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.practicalwoman.blogspot.com"&gt;www.practicalwoman.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-114172594173997433?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114172594173997433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114172594173997433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/03/moved.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-114147432290441386</id><published>2006-03-04T19:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-04T20:12:02.923+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i sang, if i had one wish by rayj, few months ago. i dont know how often wishes come true but baby and i got our wishes.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;bee wanted us to have the same phone.&lt;br /&gt;i wanted to have v3i!&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;we dont have to wish anymore! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;WE FUCKING GOTTEN V3I FOR EACH OTHER!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its sheer pleasure to make a mistake on each other phones! its so identical, i cant recognize mine! ( although i feel that my phone has more character than hers) its like totally the coolest phone on earth (abit not user-friendly but who gives a fuck!) we were so excited and anxious waiting for our phones on friday (but we got it today, i called in to order and specifically asked them to charge it overnight so we can use it, like pronto!). totally cant sleep, like so excruciatingly excited. finally! the hour of the day came, filled with so much love, love, love, love, love and love.. and of cos more loves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think we are going to be motorola lesbians, waiting for motorola to send over the forms on tuesday. (EH CHAY LAH JUL!)which i might be unable to open the mailbox, cos i am totally moving in (having domestic partnership) with lee and char. for 2weeks. 2 weeks! full of mahjong sessions, will totally invite che and bunch if they wanna join in cos lee will be working nights off her ass at km8. that leaves me and char to survive the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we're going to fuckin' bring da house yooo! hahha. meanwhile, its time for the da empress dowager to rest her spine in her secretion-filled bed (hahah!) and wait for da king to be home for soup. ( i wish, she can hardly cook proper omelettes!) bee will proudly present herself to me for lunch dates. ( i hope!) *to incur stress&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wheeeee! i am going to toy with this v3i, lets see how it can begin to play with as a vibrator. i am so kidding. i miss my boooo! this month is so special, its like totally thirteenth, we've gotten each other a v3i! omfg. yeah, we wanted to have same phone, now we got it.&lt;br /&gt;we are going to have:&lt;br /&gt;same surname&lt;br /&gt;same house&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;same pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s: we had ultimate orgasms.&lt;br /&gt;pp/s: i've recently research on female ejaculation ( will blog on it, soon i guess?)&lt;br /&gt;ppp/s: i miss my bee!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-114147432290441386?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114147432290441386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114147432290441386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/03/i-sang-if-i-had-one-wish-by-rayj-few.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-114122266879549316</id><published>2006-03-01T22:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-01T22:17:48.816+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/thirteenth.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/thirteenth.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy thirteenth, baby! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-114122266879549316?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114122266879549316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114122266879549316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/03/happy-thirteenth-baby.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-114104557064704711</id><published>2006-02-27T20:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T21:16:34.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://img414.imageshack.us/img414/8435/15oc.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img414.imageshack.us/img414/8435/15oc.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.theage.com.au/ffximage/2005/01/11/pt_wie_1201_ent-lead__200x298.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 158px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 243px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="345" alt="" src="http://www.theage.com.au/ffximage/2005/01/11/pt_wie_1201_ent-lead__200x298.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm messing up my hair, tucking in my clothes. my legs broke. although it was just a few hours cos we totally had half day today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nurse yan (NY): very good, today will be a happy day. cos you guys will have half day ...&lt;br /&gt;us: *WIDENING SMILE&lt;br /&gt;NY: ...you will leave at 12 and go for lunch...&lt;br /&gt;us: omg can go shopping!&lt;br /&gt;NY: ...after that pls go to bukit batok polyclinic for nursing musuem tour! *grins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-.-""""""""""""""""""?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;god, the museum was only as big as che's house and the 'tour guide' aka nurse have to intro the place for 2 hours. my god, our legs broke. standing for two hours listening to her old time stories, can seriously kill! but looking at those sexy nurse mannequins.. makes me horny..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bee!! when can i see you again? i am going die of love sick, definitely sick of love songs without here in my arms booboo! * dont think i am so lovey dovey to you okay. still going on with our civil lawsuit. she wants to claim our children's custody. LIKE PLS. you baby, confirm lose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need to watch tv and sleep at 10pm. i promise.&lt;br /&gt;bee, i love you so terrribly much. without you, i am in totally darkness for you are the light in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s: i am turning into a cheeseball.&lt;br /&gt;p/s2: the top picture is &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;michelle wie! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;my newest crush!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-114104557064704711?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114104557064704711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114104557064704711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/02/im-messing-up-my-hair-tucking-in-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-114096979775420632</id><published>2006-02-26T23:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T00:03:17.756+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>my god. i spent 2 hrs on this template, which wasnt even mine. i am really dumb with htmls. and its really lame about this lissaexplains thing. i really wanted to blog but i think i have to turn in soon because i'm having my attachment tmr, oh god like a really faraway place. feels like back in MI days. whatever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am like totally missing my favourite girl in this world. bee, if only you can see how vulnerable when i am without you! i love you bee! fart smelly in your face. plenty of kisses okay? work hard when you are reading this tmr in ur office. i need to hit the sack right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s: candice's party was great! especially the company. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-114096979775420632?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114096979775420632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114096979775420632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-god.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-114052468948752843</id><published>2006-02-21T19:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-21T20:28:49.046+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>my 173 bus mate. i missed her like crazy little baboo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/sarah.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;SO PRETTY RIGHT? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/hee.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;oh look who's this specky? i've mosaic-ed her face to protect her identity.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;psst.&lt;strong&gt; sarah tan&lt;/strong&gt;. miss those days! see u @ nyp soon bitch. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i have to totally say this, nyp(nanyang poly) is the most happening polytechnic around, full of vibrancy and life (well, almost!) everyone must be tracking the news of the "tammy"'s case. lotte told me quite a few weeks (or month) back, but i didnt think it'd be this &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;BIG. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;like oh god, when i saw the first small sideline in the newpaper the other day, i was like omg. not that i knew that girl anyway, but it was lotte's coursemate, but kinda excited. everyone must be searching for the video clips now especially those horny bastards who cant keep their dick in a resting postion. it was rumoured to have 7 clips. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;oh god. i nearly fainted. that girl who uploaded is really damn bitch and vicious. must be some rival shit, (for more, read &lt;a href="http://www.xialanxue.blogspot.com"&gt;www.xialanxue.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;) that bitchy person uploaded it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I MEAN OMG, i cant believe it! what if it was me?? i would just die of shame and just wished that the ground would just open up and swallow me up. oh god, i really sympathized Tammy who is in IT faculty, and she's so brave! still attend her exams, oh god. if i am her, oh god, i dont know what else to say. oh god i dont think i even want to say anything. but oh god. omg, poor thing! oh god. i cant help it except by saying omg or oh god, cos i am like totally speechless. SO POOR THING. but oh god. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i need to stop "oh-god"ing. but oh god. she is totally a victim, if she needs money i will donate. ???? okay, out of point but oh god. nyp is so full of vibrancy, plus this isnt the first case to happen from nyp, there was another nyp teacher who had a sexual r/s with her ex-student (well not nyp i think) yeah, it blew up. some really pathetic shit, posted up the teacher's full name, address, i/c number and car plate number, how annoying is that? someone really like to dig at this you know. cant this pathetic losers just leave them alone and not rub anymore? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So what if they fucking deserve it! well they got it! you dont have to rub it in to prove your point bitch. bunch of pathetic cows. MEN SOMEMORE. MEN. MEN. MEN. MEN. MEN. if only men didnt exist, then maybe we wont know anything about dicks. if no dicks, no proper sexual intercourse. i believe lesbians and gays and men are the only group of people who can orgasm with great wonders, cause women are hard with orgasm.(lesbians know what they want for sex) if some men can MAKE YOU ORGASM, fine. but mostly MEN are fucking pigs, only care about their dick and tons of loads. YOU THINK WOMAN ARE INSTRUMENTS FOR YOU TO FUCK? yeah, more like FUCK OFF.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i specifically say, only some men are able to concern and be more sensitive to woman's feelings. and mostly these men are effeminated, aka closet gays or smth. i dont understand how can some women love men despite knowing how fucking shitty a man can get. i dont know how, i only love my dad cos he buys food for me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;MEN EXPLOIT WOMEN, WOMEN EXPLOIT DADS.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i refuse to go on any further cos i am like at the brim of my steam. if not i can just go on about MEN. BIG DEAL, SAY I HYPROCRITE OR WHAT, SO WHAT IF WOMEN WERE MADE OUT OF MEN. FROM FUCKING RIBS, BIG FUCKING DEAL. GOT GUTS TAKE BACK LAH, FUCKING STICKS. i'd rather this world be gay. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;no, i am not lesbian because i hate guys. what kind of sense is that? eh, i got boyfriends before okay, got 4!! (yeah okay big deal lah jul) but i guess guys dont intrigued me like how girls does. when i was in primary school, i admired girls. and i didnt think that was lesbianism or anything near that line, i dont even think i know what was lesbian until i was exposed to SAC. oh god, tramautizing. so after couple of weeks, i broke up with my boyfriend and everything changed. oh god. hahahha, so funny, but no i dont like guys. i only like handsome hunkies. hahahah. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;so whatever these people are doing to tammy, please stop okay. leave her some dignity for her. oh god, i hope some big shot lawyers will just sue that girl and make sure her next 10 generations will be declared bankrupt. wah, i so mean, but oh god if i am her, .....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;exams are going to be over soon, i just need to hang on and drink some beer. i need maineylicious-therapy. plus some hot orgasms. i bet you dont have your orgasm today, dont worry, just DIY okay? be good. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;now, i am going to search for tammy's video. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;adios.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-114052468948752843?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114052468948752843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114052468948752843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/02/my-173-bus-mate.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-114034238427165385</id><published>2006-02-19T17:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-19T17:46:24.286+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>HELLO, WE(ME AND MAINE) ARE IN THE NATIONAL LIBRARY.. WOW. SO NICE AND BIG, SO MANY LEVELS. BUT FUCKING HELL, ONLY ONE LEVEL USE-ABLE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JUST TALK ABOUT BEING BROKE AGAIN. MAINE, SORRY WE PURCHASED A BAG THAT'S $109. AND I PAID MORE THAN HALF FOR IT AND SHE REFUSE TO ALLOW ANY LENDING SESSIONS. (SHE CLAIMS THAT IT DOESNT SUIT ME) i love you baby, but i dont care i want that bag sometimes. i am 60% shareholder. bigger than you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maine: i pay you ten dolllar la!&lt;br /&gt;me: -STARES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IT'S TOTALLY her bag ALREADY. WOMAN. WASTE. OF. MONEY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maine: you're woman too.&lt;br /&gt;jul: well, i am woman who dont spend.&lt;br /&gt;maine: i wan 2 spend on you what...&lt;br /&gt;jul: yeah, 1 year ago...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALL BABY EVER GAVE ME, WAS JUST PILES AND PILES OF LETTERS. LIKE PILES PILES PILES. LIKE PILES AND PILES AGAIN. LIKE, PILES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay we are going to leave the library liaozzz. we are going to decide (and probably fight) where to eat now. i am tired of steaks (OMG SO CONCEITED).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maine: i love you...*cute voice&lt;br /&gt;jul: silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;heehee but in ma heart i alwaeee lurve euu darlink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I NEED TO STOP CRAAPPING. OKAY BYE.&lt;br /&gt;-MAINE STRUGGLES TO TYPE SOMETHING..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-114034238427165385?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114034238427165385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114034238427165385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/02/hello-weme-and-maine-are-in-national.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-114019179645502731</id><published>2006-02-17T23:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-17T23:56:36.456+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.digitimes.com/NewsShow/20051228A8041_files/image004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 102px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 172px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="244" alt="" src="http://www.digitimes.com/NewsShow/20051228A8041_files/image004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am extremely fond of this phone, Motorola V3i. I am waiting for girlfriend to get it for me, or probably i am trying to save up for this little sleek bastard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First paper today, was absolutely fine. I spotted questions and it came out good and good and good. ahhaha, oh i shouldnt be failing, afterall my project i had an A. SOOO, i suppose mininium a C. ahhahaa. oh whatever. Havent been seeing sweetie for a long time, we're going to be united once again tmr for our highly worshipped and prestigious.. chat. (BABY!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yup, for once, i am upset about the way i am blogging tonight, cos i am pretty random! tra-la-la!&lt;br /&gt;okay, singapore is very hot, i need to play my cinema tycoon. Good night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s: I LOVE YOU BABY SO DAMN FUCKING MUCH. kiss your ass tmr. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-114019179645502731?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114019179645502731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/114019179645502731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/02/i-am-extremely-fond-of-this-phone.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113967639190887567</id><published>2006-02-12T00:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-12T01:41:53.116+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSC00419.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/400/DSC00419.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;just talk about being broke? i particularly like that wash-board abs that Guess has to offer. the only reason i can accept about shopping in Guess, i think, would be that wash-board abs. secretly, i might be closetly straight but hey, its one hot slick sexy body, that every guy is dying for. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;yes, it was my gorgeous woman's birthday. her 17th! unfortunately, on her 17th, we decided to take a chance on unprecaution measures..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00406.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;we had it. officially it is a boy, Elvis Seah. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i had to dote on him, i had to. cos i reluctantly spent about 25 bucks trying to pick this boy up from the machine. do you know how wasteful was it to be thrown into the machine and try to pick this damn thing up? and when it was picked up, and it was stable BUT it dropped just right before the God damn hole. this thrill is expensive, but the look on gorgeous, just makes me wanna do it for her. :) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00401.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;it is extremely waste costing and causing harm to environmental because we are taking taxis where we are. i dont fucking understand why my hands have to raise whenever i am like at the road?! i need to cut cost. this gorgeous woman is splurging more and more and more and more. i am thankful that she dont whip out my card in her free time. i need to discipline this gorgeous woman before she starts dragging me to places like &lt;em&gt;Gucci. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;with me around, food must never be compromise. however expensive, if you like you gotta have it. and i dont like to share food with people and i like to take your food. however, gorgeous is exactly the same with me, so the part abt 'i like to take your food' is absolutely out of the line. (today we had kfc, she refused to shred a little of her chicken). we had our favourite steak at our favourite place - &lt;em&gt;Phin's!&lt;/em&gt; its rather sad to hear that most of the branches for phin's closed, except at &lt;em&gt;Liang Seah St&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;Tampines Mall. &lt;/em&gt;but oh well, we ate it anyway! worth every cent of it, especially ribeye steak! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00414.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;we bought these love ducks at 3 bucks each in topshop!(TOPSHOP, 50% SALE!) it is very cute, it wil glow in the dark!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00435.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;my kind of &lt;em&gt;jay chou. &lt;/em&gt;hahah! you know what?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;it feel as though i am marrying my mom cos the characteristic of gorgeous and my mom are nearly on par. okay, let me give you 2 scenarios.&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Scene 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;we are going out (pa-toh) so usually we are the last to leave the house. (g - gorgeous/germaine, j- julian)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;j: we are so late, get out now now now now NOW!&lt;br /&gt;g: (as usual, scurrying around getting her stuffs) okay! coming! everything close alr? ...*&lt;em&gt;check windows, power applicances..*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;j: (as usual, impatient*tapping feet)&lt;br /&gt;g: okay! Okay! dont angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we finally got out of the house and she was locking the door.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;g: OMG, DID I OFF THE PLUG? DID I CLOSE THE WINDOW? *scrambles in to check again&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;JULIAN WAS FROWNING ALL THE WAY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Scene 2&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;my mother and i were on the way to granny's house in a car. we managed to find a parking lot. mom drove in. cleared out of the car. *beep(lock car) we walked to the staircase about 20steps away. then just suddenly..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;mom: OMG, DID I LOCK THE CAR? -scrambles to check if car's lock.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i was very irritated with her so as she walked towards me, i was like..&lt;br /&gt;j: DO YOU KNOW YOU ARE LIKE GERMAINE? EVERYTHING ALSO WANT TO CHECK CHECK CHECK CHECK CHECK! WASTE OF TIME!&lt;br /&gt;mom: tsk. (she knows what's tsk) i like Germaine okay. I LIKE HER ALOT. this is called responsibility! she's very responsible. i like her! i like her. not like you, dont know when is the last time you locked the house door.. *&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;* means rambling all the way.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;---------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;jialat. gorgeous has a talent of nagging and sulking. being a doting and loving girlfriend, i dont care if i am called henpecked or what, but i do whatever she wants me to go. if she wants me to fetch the lingam's chilli, i will fucking fetch it. love boils down to every detail yeah? hee. *blushing. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;did i mention i am like extremely proud of gorgeous?&lt;br /&gt;14points for O'levels! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;unfortunately i wasnt there to shoot down her crying face. i would have post it up, i am sure damn sure. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00404.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;she was gloating in my face from redhill till paragon. and now she is still gloating, cos in Singapore, only 11 percent had distinction in art, and she have to make claims in my face that she is one of them. sometimes, i feel like just punching her. i am damn happy for her, but i dont know why she have to repeat everything just abt 5 times all over and over and over again!!! but as doting and loving girlfriend, i would try to keep my fist in my pussy. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;but i have to say again, i am damn proud of her. :) GOOD JOB BABY! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;gorgeous is so happy on cheryl's birthday so does everyone! we had fun in MOS, the que was mad. like hello kitty que but we got in like 5minutes through priority entry, cool siak MOS. i love retro. i am going to smuggle in gorgeous? wait, she dont have to. she's tall enough, sophiscated enough. :) just right for me! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;well, i am tired already. its 1 am. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/beautiful.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;come and bask in our sweet love! :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;p/s: i found this tanning water based thingy, you know you just apply on it, and you are automatically tanned. i am going to buy that, no more sand and water for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pp/s: IF YOU THINK YOU NEED TO REPENT, YOU NEED TO CONFESS YOUR UTTERLY SHAMELESS BEHAVIOUR AND DISSOLVE YOUR ANGER, click here &lt;a href="http://www.titane.ca/concordia/dfar251/igod/main.html"&gt;http://www.titane.ca/concordia/dfar251/igod/main.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113967639190887567?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113967639190887567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113967639190887567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/02/just-talk-about-being-broke-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113950100135429014</id><published>2006-02-09T23:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-10T00:03:21.370+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>tell me, why is february invented? officially, i hate february.&lt;br /&gt;1) anniversary&lt;br /&gt;2) baby's birthday&lt;br /&gt;3) che's birthday&lt;br /&gt;4) valentines' day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i refuse to carry on listing, because just these events, killed my monthly wealth. or rather, my girlfriend killed me. no, i wont go on. but loving never stops. (SCREAMS LOVE!) i will photoblog someday next week or this weekend. but now, the attention goes to ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;cheryl chong yan yee aka CHE. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/400/DSCN1696.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;my gayest friend ever. too much to say, only we both know deep down in our hearts. well, afterall you are my love&lt;em&gt;love. &lt;/em&gt;we will boogie till you drop. i hope you will join me at NYP soon though. dont cry for me cheryltina. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;hApPy 18tH biRtHdAy, cHeRyL!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;dont pretend i know you like what i've typed. i loveee you, see you tmr. we will rock the whole building. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;p/s: i am really broke.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113950100135429014?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113950100135429014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113950100135429014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/02/tell-me-why-is-february-invented.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113941242103601032</id><published>2006-02-08T23:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T08:01:22.756+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/lasttime.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/400/lasttime.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;look at her, those days in crescent uniform. my cutie.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;today, upon the clock struck 12am, we .. okay, i celebrate the birthday of this gorgeous woman who has captured the whole of my heart and soul, that would be hers till the end of time. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You were a stranger;&lt;br /&gt;You were an acquaintance;&lt;br /&gt;You were my friend;&lt;br /&gt;You are my girlfriend;&lt;br /&gt;You are my confidante;&lt;br /&gt;You are my best friend;&lt;br /&gt;You are my soul mate;&lt;br /&gt;You are my everything;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You are Mrs. Seah.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;I WANT TO MARRRY YOU, PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this gorgeous woman brought so much happiness to my life ever since she stepped in. with her hugs, i felt like i could never ever run away, i never ever felt so secured in my life. with her kisses, featherlight or not, i would gracefully fly up to the moon. with her love, i felt like i can do anything in this world. with her strength, i can carry anything upon my shoulders, just my shoulders. with her looks, she's undeniably gorgeous (even in her pyjamas, she looks really hot and hot!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with everything else, i am definitely the luckiest oh, the happiest wo-man alive. feels like i am a billionnaire, except i am rich in love. say, very very rich. i cant insert any more words to describe this wonderful love growing in me! i just want to go over and give her the tightest chummy teddy hugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy 17th, sweetie!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:7;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:7;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00365.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I LOVE THE WRAPPER, ITS DAMN VINTAGE.&lt;br /&gt;of cos there was a card. plus some on-spot presents for her *roll eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;CANT WAIT FOR FUCKING LUNCH/DINNER, DONT KNOW WHAT WE EATING. &lt;/span&gt;(CEREAL PRAWNS..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh back to our 1 year anni, we had a very special sculpture to celebrate our 1st anniversary! we will further collect it every year! we have our very jul/maine collection of the spring/autumn/winter/summer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSC00367.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bless those who has the perfect lover in their arms, for i have mine, more than perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pp/s: happy birthday to those who shares the same birthday as my gorgeous woman!&lt;br /&gt;ppp/s: i still love you che, tahan. true love will appear.&lt;br /&gt;pppp/s: blogger should have hot pink as their colour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;VIPppppp/s: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE LATEST NON ALCOHOLIC EVENT!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;ROMP! @ ZOUK,&lt;br /&gt;16 MARCH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;(NON ALCOHOLIC)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doors open at 9pm (be punctual!) and party on till 4am!&lt;br /&gt;Interesting programmes will be on until 11!if you can dance really well or simply loveee dirty dancing, here is your time to show some moves because there's up to&lt;strong&gt; $200 in cash to be won for being the dirtiest dancer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there will also be sizzling breakdancers showing off their moves!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PRESALE: $16(strictly ends on 14 march)&lt;br /&gt;DOOR: $18&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO THE RIGHT THING! BE PART OF THE ACTION THIS SCHOOL HOLIDAYS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jill: 91818993&lt;br /&gt;Julian: 93694817&lt;/strong&gt; (if you think Jill is not pretty, call me)&lt;br /&gt;LIMITED TICKETS SO PLEASE GET THEM SOON!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113941242103601032?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113941242103601032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113941242103601032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/02/look-at-her-those-days-in-crescent.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113881227284770724</id><published>2006-02-01T23:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-02T00:49:34.103+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>we will make love 365 times to make up for lost time and to double up what we've. i will kiss you for 10 minutes endlessly (020206) on your sweet tender lips and pop that question once again. whats a celebration without celebrating the undefeatable romance within the mere space with your partner, or in my case, my life partner? we celebrate this love like how Adam and Eve came around in life stark naked, under wraps, we laugh and giggle, furnish your beautiful face with plenty of candied kisses. what's a celebration without realizing the importance of the presence of my partner, what's a celebration with only material means, what's a celebration without my heart pumping with yours, what's a romance without being integrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we will celebrate, for we have intertwined for this one good year and will further intertwine longer, longer, longer and longer. well, this song sang out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Look at this face I know the years are showing&lt;br /&gt;Look at this life I still don't know where it's going&lt;br /&gt;I don't much but I know I love you&lt;br /&gt;That may be all I need to know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at these eyes they never seen what matters&lt;br /&gt;Look at these dreams so beaten and so battered&lt;br /&gt;I don't much but I know I love you&lt;br /&gt;That may be all I need to know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many questions still left unanswered&lt;br /&gt;So much I've never broken through&lt;br /&gt;And when I feel you near me sometimes I see so clearly&lt;br /&gt;That only truth I'll never know is me and you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at this &lt;strike&gt;man&lt;/strike&gt; woman so blessed with inspiration&lt;br /&gt;Look at this soul still searching for salvation&lt;br /&gt;I don't much but I know I love you&lt;br /&gt;That may be all I need to know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't much but I know I love you&lt;br /&gt;That may be all I need to know&lt;br /&gt;I don't much but I know I love you&lt;br /&gt;That may be all there is to know&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don't Know Much / Linda Ronstadt featuring Aaron Neville&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont know anything much, but i really do know that i am truly in love with you. there's nothing that matter most, than you. i give you every inch of best to you. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 years later, i am still here if you still want me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yup, i am still here. well, bottoms up.&lt;br /&gt;that's what we say for a very happy happy happy happy happy happy happy.. one year anniversary to my soon-to-be Mrs Seah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;heh wait, she is already Mrs Seah.&lt;br /&gt;this is the only love i have truly have, to call it celebration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-fireworks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN2155.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah, so we sealed it with a kiss. ( WALAU, I AM THE SLEEPING BEAUTY, SHE IS THE PRINCE)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113881227284770724?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113881227284770724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113881227284770724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/02/we-will-make-love-365-times-to-make-up.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113872322872803584</id><published>2006-01-31T23:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T00:00:28.743+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i need sex with good mind-blowing orgasm. how ironical, we used to make love like no one's business and i got tired of having such wonderful orgasms, but now, we barely meet each other. we only had cyber sex or mobile sex or even phone sex. i cant wait for my endorphine to be released once more. god, why am i flushing red? i am so uh, high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes i am back in my humble abode.&lt;br /&gt;i need sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(sorry, only lesbians, sorry exclusively Maine and Julian)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love you che ( CHEEBYE KIA, YOU SUPPOSED TO CALL ME BACK YOU SLUTFACE)&lt;br /&gt;aiya cheebye, will blog again. i need to go up bed and touch abby, havent seen her for days. good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113872322872803584?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113872322872803584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113872322872803584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-need-sex-with-good-mind-blowing.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113849905687013084</id><published>2006-01-29T09:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-29T09:44:16.900+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>good bye. i am going to greenland till wednesday. we all know its pastures is greener on the other side, so yeah i am going to cow on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its going to be so cold. yes good bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113849905687013084?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113849905687013084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113849905687013084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/01/good-bye.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113837678303499204</id><published>2006-01-27T23:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T23:46:23.066+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what's the feeling of being out of love? what's the feeling of being hurt? what's the feeling of being neglected? what's the feeling of being.. broken? that feeling seem to be painful, uh heart feels shattered, i dont know why tears kept glistening and eventually teared? feels like everything stopped at this very moment. as though nothing can ever go through this thick skull.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am back to, lost good things. right, i am not tearing right now. i know i have to be strong, i know i hate crying. cause crying is a weakness, in your eyes. i can try to choke back those sobs, i can try. i am not sure how long can i hold back, but i will try. this time i will try, try not to cry to che. it must be me, being all demanding and stupid. all i wanted, was so simple. so simple, i just needed you by my side. i wished you never worked. i wished you were bored. i wished you would cry for my attention now, i wished i could be at your house everyday, i wished you would text me now and tell me that you're still in love with me. i wished.. but no. the tables' turned.&lt;br /&gt;no, i refuse to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this must be retribution. all i needed was just for you to spend more time with me. no, i am too fucked up to see anything. i am selfish, i am demanding, i am fucked up. you think i am so happy everyday? like things are so normally fine? no, let me tell you, that's stupid front. every night i cried for your attention, but not tonight. i will try.. maybe you will read this one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have to tell you this, i love you germaine. it will not end, until my last breath. i can do it, but can you? i've almost lost you once, now i think i am going to. i promise not to cry, everything is just welling up, but no its still not crying. i am okay. everything is just welling up.. i can still hold back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i cant take it anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113837678303499204?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113837678303499204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113837678303499204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/01/wow.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113807844624160688</id><published>2006-01-24T12:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-24T13:35:38.336+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>KYLIE GIVE ME JUST A CHANCE&lt;br /&gt;LETS GO OUT AND DANCE&lt;br /&gt;WE CAN GET INTO THE GROOVE&lt;br /&gt;I CAN WATCH YOU MOVE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LATER YOU CAN SING TO ME&lt;br /&gt;LIKE A SHINING STAR&lt;br /&gt;BUT THEY RATHER,&lt;br /&gt;KNOW YOU'RE AT THE BACKSEAT OF MY CAR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA. i am like repeating this song forever on my iTunes PLEASE. no thanks to seah, she got me addicted to this song. just to groove like them hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay i need to emo lah okay. yesterday was like the lowest point of my life. sigh, seriously life sucks man. my clinical posting is like totally out. yah, like guess what? my whole fucking clinical posting for 3 weeks is at ANG MO KIO. NABEI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first two weeks ANG MO KIO HOSPITAL.&lt;br /&gt;3rd week, ANG MO KIO POLYCLINIC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TELL ME, WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS. DONT THEY BLOODY MOTHER FUCKING KNOW THAT I STAY IN PASIR RIS. LIKE PASIR RIS, WHERE ALL THE COOL PEOPLE LIVE. P-A-S-I-R R-I-S. like PASIR RIS. like PASIR RIS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;P A S I R R I S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;even the name sound so posh can. like paris uh ni kuan. (like that in hokkien) i was outraged !! after seeing my name in AMK. like, SHIT. not that i mind going to AMK, but you know what fucking time i have to reach?!!!! FIRST WEEK STILL OKAY, cos got PM SHIFT. BUT SECOND WEEK AND 3RD WEEK, MORNING SHIFT ALL THE WAY. NABEI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;MORNING SHIFT : 7am - 3pm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just tell me how to get there. EVEN MI-DAYS I ALSO NEVER GO SO EARLY NABEI CHEEBYE. FUCK, i REACH CLEMENTI at 7AM PLS. still must take bus to school lor. what the fuck lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;charlotte was being kind and offered her condolences : "YOU CAN COME MY HOUSE AND STAY LOR FOR 3 WEEKS."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT I WILL MISS MY ROOM, MY MAMA MY PAPA..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN2179.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but charlotte anyway went, "BUT MY HOUSE GOT MAID!"&lt;br /&gt;okay i am going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW I WANT TO SEND MY 20000KB PROJECT OVER BUT IT JUST WONT BE SENT. I HATE TECHNOLOGY. CHEEBYE. I CANT DO ANYTHING TO TECHNOLOGY EVEN THOUGH I AM LIKE THAT :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/2004oly_ian_w6.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PLUS MY BABY KEPT INSISTING THAT I DONT LOVE HER. :( i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you i love you like mad girl loves ice cream! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a lighter note, i am meeting my sweet love tonight to eat at tiong bahru market today!!! WHEEE! good food and good baby. what more can i ask right? just to soothe all my shitty day away.......................................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EVERYONE PLEASE JUST WATCH. ITS PURE FALLING-IN-LOVE-WITH-SAYURI. I love Zhang Zi Yi. I really do. She's so hot. omg, i cant stand it. i am going to change my wallpaper to Zhang Zi YI!!! I LOVE YOU ZHANG ZI YYYYYYYYYYYYYYI! :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/memo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KYLIE GIVE ME JUST A CHANCE&lt;br /&gt;LETS GO OUT AND DANCE&lt;br /&gt;WE CAN GET INTO THE GROOVE&lt;br /&gt;I CAN WATCH YOU MOVE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LATER YOU CAN SING TO ME&lt;br /&gt;LIKE A SHINING STAR&lt;br /&gt;BUT THEY RATHER,&lt;br /&gt;KNOW YOU'RE AT THE BACKSEAT OF MY CAR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sorry i have to sing it again. RIGHT NOW I AM GOING TO MY AIR-CONDITIONED ROOM AND JUST SLEEP FOR AWHILE AND PREPARE FOR MY DATE.&lt;br /&gt;heehee. cant wait to see my girlfriend LAH. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s: no lessons today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113807844624160688?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113807844624160688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113807844624160688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/01/kylie-give-me-just-chance-lets-go-out.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113765857245522188</id><published>2006-01-19T15:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-19T16:50:21.683+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ive finally struggled with my inner self to blog despite post-it notes on my laptop, 'BLOG'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this one week, who'd have guessed that i've been spinning sun yanzi's old records once again. somehow i wished the time would just freeze at the moment when i first saw 'tian hei hei' mtv.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 70px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 95px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="164" alt="" src="http://www.yanzi.com.tw/files/news/184_01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;never mind about the 'tian hei hei'. YES! (sorry, currently spinning my favourite song) aww, this song really really bought back so many memories. everytime this song plays, i've this urge to go to the beach, soak in the sun and smile alot ( like pretending to shoot mtv like that). someone just remind me, to sing this song once again in ktv. right, besides Yanzi, this whole week i was sick, down with burning fever like ever since Sunday. &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 164px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="91" alt="" src="http://www.arches.uga.edu/~rembert/Webquest/1thermometer1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;i was all fine.. until i was just about to enjoy my mcspicy meal (cheers to mc delivery!), like just suddenly LIKE just SUDDENLY i'm down with fever. i mean you can fucking feel it lah. just like SUDDENLY, i lost my appetite after like 2 bites on burger. i was near to tears cos i never waste food especially MCSPICY. plus $$$. i pushed myself to finish the patty and after the patty, i totally saw the full pack of fries, as usual, near to tears, i forced myself to eat the fries.. &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 161px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="158" alt="" src="http://www.sonicdrivein.com/images/menu_catBurgers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was bedridden that night. but with mommy's constant love and care, i recovered 3 days later.&lt;br /&gt;i was damn pissed off and damn *(*(&amp;SD54^%#*#( yesterday with my group mates or rather people. fuck man, grades are yours also ok. dont depend your grades on other people alright? just fuck off and bathe lah okay. fucking project deadline coming already still want to go dating. please lah. cheebye. damn effed up alr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 183px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="134" alt="" src="http://www.mypage.tsn.cc/bowie/angry.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;its been a while since i saw baby already.. she's busy working and dont careeee abt meeeeeeeeeeeeee anymoreeeeeeeeeeee -whines. on a lighter note, i am meeting her laterrrrr for dinner!! wheeeeeeeee. im such a psychopath. but whatever, love makes the world goooo round and round.. okay, a song to end off this entry. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;like what i've said last entry, we should all live together. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Imagine" By John Lennon&lt;/p&gt;Imagine there's no heaven,&lt;br /&gt;It's easy if you try,&lt;br /&gt;No hell below us,&lt;br /&gt;Above us only sky,&lt;br /&gt;Imagine all the people&lt;br /&gt;living for today...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine there's no countries,&lt;br /&gt;It isnt hard to do,&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to kill or die for,&lt;br /&gt;No religion too,&lt;br /&gt;Imagine all the people&lt;br /&gt;living life in peace...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine no possesions,&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if you can,&lt;br /&gt;No need for greed or hunger,&lt;br /&gt;A brotherhood of man,&lt;br /&gt;Imagine all the people&lt;br /&gt;Sharing all the world...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may say Im a dreamer,&lt;br /&gt;but Im not the only one,&lt;br /&gt;I hope some day you'll join us,&lt;br /&gt;And the world will live as one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so just fuck off and grow up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113765857245522188?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113765857245522188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113765857245522188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/01/ive-finally-struggled-with-my-inner.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113690993882507143</id><published>2006-01-10T22:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-11T00:25:43.593+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"so everyone say hi, to big titties. everyone knows you have, like D cup breasts! so dont hide those titties behind!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sia lah. i embrace them like crazy.(but sorry i no haf d cups worzz) i mean like what've i said to some people, like fuck labels! took on sociology presentations, i find myself putting ME as a real living proof. examples like, uh, says who, butches cant be nurses? ( i mean, i am not. it was just a very good example) it is totally stereotyping already, 'cause like (stereotyping),&lt;br /&gt;1. butches are reallly violent, rude and loud ( heard of pretty a few cases)&lt;br /&gt;2. butches must be super duper manly&lt;br /&gt;3. butches have really flat breasts&lt;br /&gt;4. butches are big sized or really lardy (look at zouk's bouncer)&lt;br /&gt;5. butches have really really short hair (shaven to be exact, what we called lao butch)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok i cant think already. okay back to examples like 'butches cant be nurses'. AS USUAL, yours truly as an example. like usual, sterotyping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. nurse aka (nabei sterotype again) soft/gentle/cute/pretty/angelic. fuck off lah, go to hospital and see for fuck's sake, ive seen (maybe not butches) manly woman (?!) being a perfect nurse caring and loving. if some peeps think that uh butches or manly girls cant be a nurse, stop being judgmental, cos you dont know THEM. i am one lean mean lovin' machine. well, i have to say, i am caring, loving and maybe sometimes gentle. haha but never very violent ( quoting examples like slapping, shoving HARD..etc) i think i do shove. (baby knows it allll or che? lol) well well, to violent cases, there's always two side to every story right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;digressing. cheebye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. nurses who are manly, good. cos they are strong, dont need help to carry anything. you can be extra helpful to nurses who are delicate, probably not to mention, hot and sexy in uniform.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i refuse to go on, but you sure get my point. i embrace lesbianism (points at 'queer friendly') cos i believe we are truly an individual. it definitely made me special, stood out amongst the rest of the millions. (like whole class, only one lesbian) i mean i dont like totally JOIN lesbianism to be special, i was made like that. so its like a totally exclusive club. only invitations from your hormones allow you in. i cant stand those pseudo lesbians, like totally fake. nabei check your cheebye whether they like fingers or dicks la. yes i was saying, i make a point not to label myself or people. cos in society, homosexuality itself is already a labelling, why do you even need to go on futher labelling yourself somemore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;example first label: homosexuality&lt;br /&gt;2. gays / lesbians ( in my case i will speak for lesbians! gay pride rock!)&lt;br /&gt;3. lesbians into butches, actives, passives, pure lesbians? ( god knows how many more)&lt;br /&gt;4. okay lets say butches, they have SOFT BUTCHES AND HARD BUTCHES?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh boy. i just have to say this, lesbian takes in all form, all up to individual. i have short hair, sizeable breasts, relatively large sized( i am built for touch rug and hockey), i am totally like gay, closet femme moments and i have so much more. so what am i? fuck lah, you also dont know right? i considered myself as a butch for last 4 years cos i do bind my breast and i was pretty manly, but i have no idea why, but i guess hormones again lah. my manlyness walked away. and left me with wrist limping. che said i danced like femme. (we are both closet femmes) i decided not to bind my breasts, not wanting to deny their presence anymore. i didnt had my hair shaven once and once again, layered now, oooh no fringe somemore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;damn, all these took place 2 years ago, all these changes still dont change my sexual preference. one should live with acceptance to changes, expectations, dignity, integrity and very important, differences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for some lesbians they dont live with such acceptance and lived with stony mind, rude or violence, they smeared the reputation of lesbians, hence, some in society still dont really accept lesbians or even like. SO FOR ONCE, i am not a butch. so stop labelling me as a butch. i am a lesbian aka dyke, masculine form. (no, dyke doenst mean butch (Used as a disparaging term for a lesbian/offensive terms for a lesbian who is noticeably masculine .)) YOU WANT TO BE BUTCH, YOU BUTCH YOURSELF. with all due respect to other butches, of cos to certain butches, being a butch is no big deal, not as if it was like realllly big big big or smth. like what our plegde says, we are equal since in language, race, religion, we are equally equal in sexual preference or sexual form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am one proud lesbian. no, to those closet lesbians, unlike me you dont have to proclaim your status until you are settled with your inner self. i was so uncomfortable with the word, "lesbian". but now i am like fuck care. well, as long as you are happy, seriously, as long as you are happy. there are other things you can do for others to be happy, but something for yourself. ( i missed you carrie!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Homosexuals are already minority of the minority. we should stand as one, why fight over size, brains, common sense, looks, english (?!) and uh, template? HAHAHAHAHA. its so whatever. i mean surely someone started it first then it goes on.. if we cant even accept changes, we might as well just fuck off. there are reasons why we have really good friends who can dirty dance together and feel comfortable. cos we accept differences. we see differences. it can be totally explained about people who are quite ..say, friendless. one must accept and compromise isnt it? like love doesnt = money, money = money, love= love. its a two way thing man. (haha, two way)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so when people say, ignorance is bliss. if this entry triggered you, you must have felt partly this is true, if not trigger what lan right? so when we have blogs, we blog about reflections (something produced by reflecting; especially : an image given back by a reflecting surface ), our daily happenings. and not some undignified disparagement entries. ( you see, i like visiting theresarurssssas(?!).com and dictionary.com to do a spelling check) and i do appreciate lovers who expresses love on their blog, but everyday is too much, why dont you spend the time telling your lovers into their ears? sending a few sweet messages will prolong your relationship without breaking up so often. like what i've said, compromise. (i love you baby, you can off my fan when its raining)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh no, time flies when you are so focused on your entry filled with expressions and feelings. now i know how people do it so often. they are so emo people. hahah, private joke man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tmr it will be a very busy day in school and after school ive to shop for groceries to cook for my sweet love on thursday. sometimes love dont have to be materialistic, but sweet and thoughtful. in a lap of luxury is good, but not 2 laps. hahahha, nabei lah julian, not funny. yup, i better stop before i blab again. dont be triggered like what i've said. (BABY, dont kill me worzzz) i will give you 3 laps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yes, not to forget, orgasm is very important to all - physically and mentally. (:&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113690993882507143?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113690993882507143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113690993882507143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/01/so-everyone-say-hi-to-big-titties.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113677754513956060</id><published>2006-01-09T11:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-09T11:32:25.153+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>break time once again! :) baby is working right now.&lt;br /&gt;we had a really good breakfast this morning! i woke up at 530am, and rushed out of the house to buy beehoon for her, cos today's her first day at work! everything started so well today.. totally went to school damn early and crashed for awhile in the library. nyp rock lah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/luckyno80-img600x354-1096724251julian.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/luckyno80-img600x354-1096724251julian.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113677754513956060?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113677754513956060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113677754513956060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/01/break-time-once-again-baby-is-working.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113661463017161754</id><published>2006-01-07T14:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-07T14:17:10.173+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE. I LOVE MAINE.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113661463017161754?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113661463017161754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113661463017161754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-love-maine.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113648151587031189</id><published>2006-01-06T00:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-06T02:24:19.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i am up again this late cos this time i am waiting for mama to come home. i think her flight alr landed coming home sooooon. i miss mama!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we have a very typical break up msg:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;what else isnt screwed yet? says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;i dun think we suit each other anymore. u dont love me anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;what else isnt screwed yet? says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;i think its best we brk up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CHE ; says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;okiez&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;what else isnt screwed yet? says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;and walk our own lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;CHE ; says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;HAHAHAHAH FUCK YOU MAN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;woke up with two texts (besides from maine's) :&lt;br /&gt;che -&gt; eh brathe come crash MI leh.&lt;br /&gt;sarah -&gt; COME CRASH MI?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i seriously think they are mad, apparently they think i am still sKOoZleSs like some fucking lians. lol but i think i will crash it somehow next week la hor brathe. i have to pretend like some fucking retainee. tsk, if ive stayed on, i think i wld have retained! hahah, gladly! cos i have sarah. but i am like fucking overage? am i? oh 19. ahhahaa. school's good today! we have practical lessons like wtf we just had our prac test and now we have lessons again, but its good. cos we get to see like, first in line to see crazy horse, &lt;strong&gt;cadaver.&lt;/strong&gt; bet you dont know, &lt;em&gt;its A dead body, especially one intended for dissection. &lt;/em&gt;it was like WOOOOOOOOOOOOAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;only half of the class dared to go into the really cooling room. the moment i stepped in, felt as though there's a wind blowing and there's this really bad aura with goosebumps and chills up my spine. it was spooky. end of the room, we saw preserved what-ever-its-left, like brain, fingers, trunks, sorry no penis or vagina. then we saw this uh, thing, on this table covered with white cloth..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*GASP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everyone literally gasped. char &amp; lee : nabei. dr raj was like, come around the table and he started to like unleashed what-lies-beneath... ... ... &lt;a href="http://www.smileycentral.com/?partner=ZSzeb001_ZNxmk846YYSG" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Faint" src="http://smileys.smileycentral.com/cat/36/36_11_1.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/Picture1.4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its damn eerie lah, we went into the room and felt that chill up our spine and goosebumps all over all. oh god. it was like totally spooky! and dr raj could just totally pluck up the muscles and started teaching. oh god. we will learn and see more in year 2! omfg, i cant wait lah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the IE is fucked up, closed by itself, cheebye.&lt;br /&gt;mom's home! bought me a shirt that says, HANOI. ahhahahahhaa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN2181.2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha sorry such a random pic! my room!&lt;br /&gt;mom's like totally ass lah, she just cant find her SIA blanket, she had to wake the whole house up and like immobilized all the house members to look for it. nabei. and she just asked me if i want to see nice pictures from her trip, i just waved her away and said tmr. she went, tsk, taoyan la, nabei. AND SHE WENT TO SLEEP. my mom's cool. the whole house now uses vulgarities. haahhahaha. i hope i have a dog that goes woocheeoobyef. ? ok nvm. '&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i have to like totally sleep now. cos its like fucking 2am? and my classes start at what, 10? cheebye plus presentation? oh not to forget, our cheebye leader totally told on us to a TEACHER. like wtf? boys in our class are SO CHILDISH, everything tell teacher..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;teacher they never do, all i do one lehxx, cher..they veri noiseyzz, cherr..i dont like them laaa..&lt;/em&gt; FUCK OFF AND DIE MAN. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;char, lee and i have tons to complain. we'll save the bitching tmr ahahhaa. we rock la!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i will never love anyone else, except for you. even if it means, that i have to lose my life..i never needed anyone the way i needed you. i love you baby, its true, the world knows how much i love you. :) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;OK. like NOW, i need to LIKE crash. like OKAY, NOW. bye.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113648151587031189?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113648151587031189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113648151587031189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/01/i-am-up-again-this-late-cos-this-time_06.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113622048439097652</id><published>2006-01-03T00:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-03T00:48:04.436+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;HAPPY ELEVENTH, BABE. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you dont expect me to type love story anymore. cos my love story is secretly told to you. if i blog love story again, che will puke all her chomp chomp good food out and melt in malt sweet.&lt;br /&gt;perfect day, for a perfect couple. ( i think i cant take it, i have to do it. okay, a little)&lt;br /&gt;nothing fanciful today, *gasp, i have to be conceited, we ate in foodcourt for the first time. hahahaaaa, i can see eyes totally rolled. we had so much small talks during walking, sitting, practically doing everything. i dont understand girls, do they have to shop so much? do they have to like, totally try on everything they squeal in likeness? like, OMFG, I LIKE THIS SKIRT SO MUCH! I HAVE TO TRY. and i would end up in the fitting room, resting cos i am running a temperature. but she is there like with so much zeal! thank god we ran to only topshop, mango, carrefour and uh.. i dont remember anything else. milk shake at billy's too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;process is very important but i am too sick. coughs.&lt;br /&gt;but okay i have to do this very belated thingy, happy new year to those on my links and not forgetting jill before kena screamed again. seah where are u?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate this entry. I MISS MY BABE SO MUCH.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113622048439097652?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113622048439097652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113622048439097652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/01/happy-eleventh-babe.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113611597942794214</id><published>2006-01-01T19:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-01-01T19:46:19.536+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;GET THE FUNK OUT WAS A BLASTING SUCCESS!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, we know althea has like probably millions of money in her pockets now. it is my pleasure to return this little gratitude back to althea for that night she stood by us. it was filled with tons of boys. read xiaxue's blog, you will know cos *proudly* I ask althea to invite xiaxue ok. we totally saw her. we were in awe. haahhaha. maybe a miniature of linda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must make a mental note to remember not to head down to orchard next year. And i've signed a petition to ban aerosol spray cans in Orchard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://new.petitiononline.com/aerosol/petition.html"&gt;http://new.petitiononline.com/aerosol/petition.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid foreign workers are really damn fucking irritating. Kept spraying and spraying fucking non stop lah. i really got pissed off, everywhere you walked they would just fucking spray at you lah. so cheebye fucking bangla. and jill had to spray ON MY HEAD WITH LAYERS OF FOAMS. thanks idol, i need it man. me and che got bored in the party after like 2am? went to back oh-so-many-memories lido mac. and we totally slacked there. stayed up till abt 6am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NO FREAKING CABS WANT TO STOP. WE WALKED FROM ORCHARD TO RIVER VALLEY. to fucking call a cab. thanks to pre-paid card. ahhahahah -looks at che. ahhaha. had so much funnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn! reacched home abt 8plus. and went to sleep til like NOW?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im like totally sick. MOS tonite, priority entry, 10 dollar admission? coughs i am going to sleep and sims my way all the nite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is a very bad entry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113611597942794214?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113611597942794214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113611597942794214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2006/01/get-funk-out-was-blasting-success-now.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113596831689360281</id><published>2005-12-31T02:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-31T02:45:16.923+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i have finally pushed myself to reach this page. i've always been so lazy to update my blog cos what i'm doing lately is pretty mundane. suck blood lah me. of cos, now its time for the infamous top 10 resolutions for 2006.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strike&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;TAAAAAAAAADAHHHHHHHHHHH, TOP TEN RESOLUTIONS!&lt;/u&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*in random order&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;1. Stay focus in my studies &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Start another bank account with at least $500 (AH! OUB MINI VISA!)&lt;br /&gt;3. Spend time and commitment in St Johns.&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;/strike&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know what? i am damn bad at this. i just want to give my commitment and time to my family, baby, st johns and friends. of cos, not forgetting my studies. plans under wraps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss my baby so much, although she is gg to kill me for having this entry at this unearthly hour, but i know she will appreciate this though. hahaha, she is killing me thru sms already. BABY! i just want to tell you that your love is able to last me throughout the century, how will i survive without your love, your longwinded scoldings. :) i am still undergoing your 'wake-up-now-or-else-i-will-off-the-fan-' treatment. :) it reallllllllly drives me crazy at times, but i still love you the same, so much, so much more everyday as it goes by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont know what else to blog, cos i say what i want to say in your face everyday. there's no need for others to know, sweetlove. all my sweet nothings are whispered into your ears. i love you babe, happy 1 year. sorry, happy new year. :) may 2006 bring us more love and more love and more love and more love and some money. HAHAH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 174px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="219" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/c4fc.jpg" width="184" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;yay, steamboat tmr with sweetheart. cant wait PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;HAPPY NEW YEAR IN ADVANCE TO MY LOVELY FRIENDS, ESP CHE, JP, SARAH, CIA, STEF, AND MORE. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113596831689360281?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113596831689360281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113596831689360281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/12/i-have-finally-pushed-myself-to-reach.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113560656243053690</id><published>2005-12-26T22:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-26T22:16:02.446+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>seriously i hope people would stop calling and ask me to stop whatever rendezvous i have in mind. i am quite sick of it seriously. i am so sorry i failed this time, well it doesnt mean that you wouldnt fail in any of ur life time. if i should just stop now, i guess no one would have succeeded. fuck it. im rather pissed off. the time i am doing it, its gonna be a blast. i mean come on lah, what is this setback means to me. it will only fucking make me stronger. i guess i was stupid enough to sign a sunday party contract. i mean who clubs on sunday seriously, it made me think. my gratitude is widely extended to baby, aaronn, stephanie, sarah, sandra, jp, yuani, jia, adrian (who was being really very understanding) and of cos,&lt;em&gt; althea&lt;/em&gt;!! my gratitude will never end till the day i die man. i was really touched by the way she stood by us. plus fiona, novi and fiona's mom who gave us free legal consultations. (?!) things almost blew out of proportion. and friends whom i've called for help. gazitribimillion of thanks. now we know who is mature who is not in the nick of that time. for the whole night we all, sweated in self-wallowing night with a blackman came taking a photo with us. (?!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah oh yeah, just let me reminisce how the days when we the rich (once) people lived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;before bankruptcy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/6acc.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/8a5f.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/b59d.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;i cant take fringes anymore. its so passe( love you che and jp)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/17cc.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;well there you go, our (once) rich days with bills chalking up *takes out receipts* with yumcha, nydc, mango shopping spree, flesh imp, chinablack(baileys and bourbon), pasta cafe, topshop and borders. WHAT IS THIS? and i think more. now i am left with nothing only plus a few friends and a few valuables and plus my hot baby. i guess yesterday night i ate a big slice of life. but hold your horses, i am never going to stop. afterall flick was a top rated party. *cash kaching kaching. i will be back *arnold.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GET THE FUNK OUT NYE 06 DANCE PARTY!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;IT WILL BE A HIT! THE MEDIA, THE PRESS, EVERYONE WILL BE COMING DOWN!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onmouseover="window.status=makeCompleteURL('http://www.getthefunkout.com.sg/');return true" onclick="window.open('/redirect?b='+b64_srckey+'&amp;u='+escape(makeCompleteURL('http://www.getthefunkout.com.sg/')), '_blank');return false;" onmouseout="window.status='';return true" href="http://www.getthefunkout.com.sg/"&gt;http://www.getthefunkout.com.sg/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I know it's Christmas, but let's just face it, NYE parties rock harder than Christmas parties anytime.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now witness the birth of the island's most underground funk alliance this new year's eve.&lt;br /&gt;GET THE FUNK OUT! NYE06 DANCE PARTY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Venue : Ngee Ann City Civic Plaza&lt;br /&gt;Date : 31st Dec 2005 (Sat)&lt;br /&gt;Doors open : 9pm till dawn&lt;br /&gt;Age limit : 18 &amp;amp; above&lt;br /&gt;Ticket : S$25 presale, $35 at venue (Incl. 1 housepour)&lt;br /&gt;Presales ended on 23Dec.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You can expect: ALOT OF Hip Hop, Funk, and Crunk music owning your dancing asses.&lt;br /&gt;Party area will be sheltered and equipped with excellent ventilation,&lt;br /&gt;hence it's a Rain or Shine event!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;To enter, dress with maturity. Beware of overdressing. We will let you in without checking ID if you look cool, good and THATS ALL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; and you get to enjoy the fun with all the hip people INCLUDING CELEBRITIES!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU DONT KNOW WHO YOU ARE DANCING NEXT TO!&lt;br /&gt;SO COME ON DOWN TO NGEE ANN CITY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;SPREAD THE WORD!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113560656243053690?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113560656243053690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113560656243053690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/12/seriously-i-hope-people-would-stop.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113514668781742308</id><published>2005-12-21T14:12:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T15:48:30.426+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;FLICK! @ Chinablack was a smashing success! Thanks to all who partied with us! We maxed the place with 600++ over party-goers! Snapshots of FLICK!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSC00126.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSC00106.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSC00112.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSC00113.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSC00120.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSC00122.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSC00134.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSC00130.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/jillhahaha.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;we might just surprise you with Flick II. :) stay tuned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;of cos we have some cool personal photos. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00067.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;just very obviously where am i and who i am waiting for. forever late for our dates.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00071.jpg" border="0" /&gt;my sweet love (ahah, she hates me calling her that aft shouting 'sweetlove' in the club!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00077.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;California Bistro @ Esplanade &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00083.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;:) the happiest girl alive&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00084.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;of course, we (actually me only) had starters!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00087.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;there, that's our main course. HAHA, get the joke? MAINE course. AHAHAH. ok sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00090.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;This is my main course. I know, i ate already. Maine was glaring at me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00091.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;"See, i havent eat yet!" Maine's main course. (?!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00092.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;She is sure fiddling with the chilli sauce. WE CANT LIVE WITHOUT CHILLI SAUCE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00093.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;She sure had in mind what to have for dessert. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00094.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The Chocolate Bar @ Esplanade&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00097.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Her long awaited Chocolate Fondue. ( I was only entitled to eat the banana and strawberries by baby :( but i ate her mashmallows anyway.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00098.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Sigh. What a gorgeous babe. (She hates milk chocolate)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00100.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Yay!! I love coconut trees by the sea. (The lighting effect is like totally GONE)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00101.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Baby insists on taking cab since she insisted that she was gorgeous and should be pampered luxouriously.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Mastercard : For a date like this: Priceless&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00103.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;We hate flashes you see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00114.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Yeah the flash. With my brudder and Maine's phone!?!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00117.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Flick! Organisers. Jul, Che, Cia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00138.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Per makes you HYPER!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00139.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Come on, its 3am, lets go home!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00119.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Another sweet loving couple. (I love zave more. So pretty!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00143.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;We had our wanton mee @ Laupatsat and walked to Clifford Pier. WALKED. Nabei.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Party? What Party? Yes, party. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/MODI.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;SWING! @ Chinablack, 25/12/05&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;come on down to Swing! @ Chinablack and celebrate xmas with hot sexy santarinas! ( psst! one of them are FHM girl next door finalist!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;***DRINK till you drop with prices like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;$3 per glass housepour!&lt;br /&gt;$10 per jug housepour!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;WHERE ELSE CAN YOU GET THESE GREAT DEALS?!&lt;br /&gt;Only at Swing! @ Chinablack on the 25th December!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;First 400 gets a party goodie bag before 10pm!&lt;br /&gt;Grind and bump with your lover,&lt;br /&gt;your friends or whoever! or maybe cool looking strangers!&lt;br /&gt;In Top 40hits and r&amp;amp;b and hiphop beats!&lt;br /&gt;Better than anywhere else!&lt;br /&gt;You will definitely enjoy that night of your life!&lt;br /&gt;SO COME DOWN on that day to get our special tickets from us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Presale @ $15&lt;br /&gt;Door @ $17&lt;br /&gt;Inclusive of One housepour freee!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***We dont discriminate any genders.&lt;br /&gt;Both genders at one price!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO COME DOWN AND GET YOUR TICKETS&lt;br /&gt;OR SIMPLY JUST TEXT/CALL US @&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julianne 93694817&lt;br /&gt;Cheryl 91908547&lt;br /&gt;Alicia 91510868&lt;br /&gt;Per 91072720&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont be shy. We are friendly! Oh, this is alcoholic! WE LOVELOVE YOOOOU!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113514668781742308?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113514668781742308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113514668781742308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/12/flick-chinablack-was-smashing-success.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113493146822607132</id><published>2005-12-19T02:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-19T02:44:28.246+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Flick tmr. I'm ..you can say, pretty intense. Life's been really mundane. I felt the rush of love back for .. the core of my life (there's 2 core, one core is Maine the other is...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh fuck myself lah, kaninabei. I am very vulgar lately. But who gives a fuck about it. I am damn dulan now. Cos its coming 3am but i've yet to hit the sack, instead i am here listening to Radiohead crooning Creep, and making me feel as though i wished i was special and felt as though i am weird. And now dont know who most probably Mcfly crooning I'll be okay. What a fucked up contridication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, this is a very fucked up entry. why? cos i am fucked up. ok bye before you get the fucked up virus. nabei.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113493146822607132?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113493146822607132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113493146822607132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/12/flick-tmr.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113456943767124735</id><published>2005-12-14T22:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-14T22:10:37.696+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/maine.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/maine.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; this is for you sweetpie. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113456943767124735?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113456943767124735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113456943767124735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/12/this-is-for-you-sweetpie.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113440164742549063</id><published>2005-12-12T22:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-12T23:34:07.446+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN1540.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 270px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="238" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSCN2103.jpg" width="218" border="0" /&gt;hate charlotte. she doesnt know how to appreciate japanese beauty. *rofl apparently i am too bored. but oh well, i have sch tmr, and now i shall go sleep, but aiya, i dont know, i am feeling fucking restless pleaseeee. aaronn's not at home, no one's at home.. boohoo. fuck jp lah, dont know bowl until kl, got ability i dare her to bowl until alaska lah nabei cheebye dont know when come back, fucking paperbag boy (oh okay, paperhat boy). nabei just saw sarah online, nabei lanjiao, damn annoying seeing her picture floating up. i miss so many people please. maybe i would stil wish i was in MI, but i am happier right now. hehee, but aaronn is sadder.. boohoo.. but love love, i will visit eu on sports day we will have our usual cheerleading!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="210" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSCN1186.jpg" width="257" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 264px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 199px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="222" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSCN1184.0.jpg" width="294" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;this is when we sworn to be cheerleaders when we are in yr2. *cringe. this is when we became brudders. and when we look at girls :&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 257px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 190px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="167" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSCN1188.jpg" width="288" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;cant help it. MI days, so lovely. like this:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="218" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSCN0879.jpg" width="274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;like, fuck my bad hair days. now i miss the uniform. i have to crack my head to figure what to wear. i hate it, i hate it. i hate it. and i get cranky like this all the time:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="233" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSCN1314.jpg" width="228" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;so dont mess with the best:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/%28%28x%20034.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="202" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSCN1611.jpg" width="274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="262" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSCN1540.jpg" width="211" border="0" /&gt;our mr ah beng:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 243px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 202px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="181" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSCN1510.jpg" width="280" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;and all along these months, this girl saw me through everything:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="297" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSCN2153.jpg" width="233" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;my beauty my love my brains my life, my everything.&lt;br /&gt;but with her around, i am able to do things like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="239" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSCF0027.jpg" width="285" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;(HONEY DONT ANGRY, its CHASE)&lt;br /&gt;:) and i have lovely friends like this:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="205" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSCF0003.jpg" width="289" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;hahaha, ok story end here today. tired laaaaaa. lovelove. i loveeeeeeee eeeuu.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;ninabeh, fucking aaronn not back, must be mahjong till shiok untill her cheebye spoil. (LOVELOVE)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113440164742549063?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113440164742549063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113440164742549063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/12/hate-charlotte.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113435056340424721</id><published>2005-12-12T09:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-12T09:26:37.236+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>we're planning to eat:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) marina south steamboat&lt;br /&gt;2) phin's steakhouse (she likes ribeye steak plus we just went last week to eat, she stole my steak!)&lt;br /&gt;3) jack's place ( I LIKE.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and by early next year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) YUM CHA @ chinatown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;babe, we have to shop chinatown. its the next in thing we have to go. :) i loveee you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113435056340424721?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113435056340424721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113435056340424721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/12/were-planning-to-eat-1-marina-south.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113414184423554760</id><published>2005-12-09T23:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T23:50:20.103+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>recently things are really at the bottom, felt like i've been in this world alone, apart from Maine's. this stress is toiling me up to the max and ive been breaking down so oftenly that i hate myself for crying. for you know, crying is weakness. ive been giving false signals to baby, hurting her with my impulsive words and action. i am sorry sweetheart. you know i cant never act out on my words. i am just acting on impulsive by saying those words and throwing silly tantrums but please do know that i love you, always. i love you so much. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yay, just got back from cia's uh, house party (that girl's parents went out of town) and ate. hahaha, per's so irritating and aaronn oh okay, cheryl's like.. sooooo jaded (what's new) love those peeps, make my night seem so fulfulling, havent been spending time with them. right, i am gg to have my hols soon! right after nxt week, i shall go join babe at her working place. ive been seeing babe everyday lah, i love the sight of her sooooooo muchh! i am such a lovee pig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BYEBYE. i updated just for the sake of updating. Pei, can u please confirm with Fiona abt the 23rd thingy? WHY DONT WANT? TSK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. waiting for 3/2/05&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;edit: 11:47pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;upon hearing christmas songs, i felt this really hollow feeling in my heart. everything in this year is so wrong, i can only blame myself. such familiar feelings coming back, like as though im doing this every year. at least ive someone to spend with this year again. but nothing can turn back time and bring back how things used to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113414184423554760?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113414184423554760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113414184423554760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/12/recently-things-are-really-at-bottom.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113370689663346069</id><published>2005-12-04T22:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T22:34:56.653+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm such a fucking lovelorn. i feel like a jerk sometimes. only when insecurity sets in, i then begin to pester her with love plus minimal depression. sometimes her texts would just leave me with a feeling like she'd juz pack up and leave anytime, i dont know how she does it. but usually i'm ending up with tears but who cares. sometimes i wonder if she really knows how much i loved her and that my heart and everything else depends on her. i just want to let her know that she's always in my heart and on my mind. never once is she out of my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like today i went to jb for some shopping..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSC00130.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;sigh i dont know i dont know.. it feels like maine doesnt want to talk to me anymore.. so i might as well throw this skirt away for i've brought this for maine. but since things ended up this way.. then i might as well throw it away or donate it to salvation army..maine dont lovee meee...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;oh well, this skirt is such a waasstee..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;p/s: that pair of legs is not my new gf, is my momsie. she's so willingly to model the skirt for me to take picture and she's like jimaine wil like this skirt, ok la buy for heeerrr!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;pss: congrats to per who probably or MADE it to the fhm next block girl or is it next door? lol. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;psss: aaronn and jp. hate u two. hope both of u kena uti. LOVELOVE. you all dont love mee liaozzzzzz. poutsy. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;pssss: LOVE U BABY!! i want to be malaysian.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113370689663346069?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113370689663346069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113370689663346069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/12/im-such-fucking-lovelorn.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113349694387680326</id><published>2005-12-02T12:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T14:57:07.783+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>finally, my blog is like screwed i dont know why. but darling made it good for me. :) YES! today is our &lt;strong&gt;TENTH!&lt;/strong&gt; :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;edit @ 2.21pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just came back from lunch at food junction (our school has it!) and was really irritated as a bunch of AJC students strolled in with their hockey sticks. fucking hell, damn irritated you know, why cant they eat in their school? do you know our NYP students dont even have places to sit but they are actually occupying seats, not just one or two but a few benches of it!? i mean its fucking unfair right, this is our school, this is for NYP students. why are they even coming in to steal our seats? dun they even have common sense not to rudely enter our school and pretend it is their sch! i mean whatever lah, they should totally go back to where they belong! you chose JC life ok, dont come pretend and intergrate into poly life and enjoy both worlds okay. if your sch fucking has lousy food, then eat ur lousy food dont come to our sch and eat our cheaper-rate macdonalds. you're exploiting our sch services - the services that are for our school students. so now seriously, get out of our school. at least have a decency to look sheepish and embarrassed.&lt;br /&gt;i am so gg to write a complain letter to the school and if they do not do anything abt it, we will all boycott food junction. (char, me and huilee plus jas)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok 4 of us like no big deal but oh well i can advertise. so fuck off aj students. we're not affiliated at all. you go your high intellectual way, we go our skillful knowlegeable way. so we are not meeting at crossroads. so, got the msg? move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now jasmine is like talking on her top of her voice for the christmas party (no its not chinablack's) :) wheeeeeeee.i..i wonder if i can bring my darrrrrling. lol, char juz stared at me when i asked her tat qtn. OH WELL, so people (chase, seek, fiona) we are having party @ the gallery hotel room XXX on 23dec potluck party ( we have very weird xmas ; few years back we had steamboat for xmas and contemplated if we shld have turkey for new year) and i'm bringing sweetheart ttooo!!! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;walau so much plans man. yay, 19th coming! baby is coming over my house to stay over (*GLARES?!)&lt;br /&gt;okay i am off to do something else like texting my honeeeeeey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am so happy today.&lt;br /&gt;Happy tenth sweet heart.&lt;br /&gt;I love you, always.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113349694387680326?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113349694387680326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113349694387680326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/12/finally-my-blog-is-like-screwed-i-dont.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113327689905564419</id><published>2005-11-29T22:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T23:08:19.086+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The broken works. The broken words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113327689905564419?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113327689905564419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113327689905564419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/11/broken-works.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113317271093839184</id><published>2005-11-28T18:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-28T18:11:50.953+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>eeeeee, jul is gross and aaronn is a lesbian. EEEERRRRR XIN, TONG XIN LIAN. WEI SER MO BU YAO ZUO ZHEN CHANG REN ?! too much la, too much. -shakes head.&lt;br /&gt;anon.  11.28.05 - 9:55 am  &lt;a title="Link to this comment" href="http://www.haloscan.com/comments/cheche/113303963859050511/?a=43195#11772"&gt;#&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;appalling tag on aaronn's blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and once more, we live on gay pride. do you even have pride to be called yours? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113317271093839184?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113317271093839184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113317271093839184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/11/eeeeee-jul-is-gross-and-aaronn-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113298818990551715</id><published>2005-11-26T14:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-26T14:56:29.926+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the ultimate night, both under the sheets. feather light kisses in the dawn. morning glory to our faces. the first nite, i wasnt lonely anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you sweetheart. now be good, i am off for camp, i promise it will be quick. text me. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113298818990551715?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113298818990551715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113298818990551715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/11/ultimate-night-both-under-sheets.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113259275449356024</id><published>2005-11-22T00:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-22T01:05:54.510+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>what's new? my girlfriend is always complaining that i dont update. and frankly, looking at the time now which is abt 12:31am. i am supposed to be in bed already, or probably earlier cos i have classes at 9 tmr. and ive already done all my slides narration and i could have already climbed up to my comfy ikea decker bed and read my book. if it wasnt for love...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i swear i am going to get hate msgs rite in the morning after baby sees this. right last week and this week has been busy but i have managed to squeeze in sometime for my baobao!( she's baobao, i am bei bei, together we are baobei!) last week i have been into zouk for char's birthday and of cos i have my presentation on friday on communication skills! we've gotten the results on that day itself, we had an &lt;strong&gt;A&lt;/strong&gt;! we totally aced it lah, but someone in our grp totally got it for free for she so free but never do anything just clickd on the fucking computer and she got an A. fabulous isnt it? i wish it could be that easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right after the communication skills presentation now we are rushing to do our sociology project on geisha. omg, i learnt so much abt geisha, its soooo interesting! PLEASE MIND YOU, they are not prostitutues. and guess what? this presentation was juz done by the 4 of us, and the rest of the 2? just totally didnt care pls. WALAUZZZZ. so much for team effort la, but whatever they are going to lose out cos we have to be markd on indivivual marks. -shrugs.&lt;br /&gt;ive tried my best. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right this week, hmm, right after presentation, maybe i might juz rush to chinatown to go shopping for awhile! to get my adidas or smth. i dont know baby says she wants to get it for me! :) love my babe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wed: sch's dismissed aft 3&lt;br /&gt;thurs: FULL DAY WITH BABY @ SENTOSA, i wil be drinking my lychee martini. at night, jill's party @ chinablack (promoting party!)&lt;br /&gt;fri: sch's dismissed aft 2. then baby's prom and private party btw me and baby.. *EVIL LAUGHTER&lt;br /&gt;sat: camp&lt;br /&gt;sun: camp&lt;br /&gt;mon: camp + sch&lt;br /&gt;tues: camp (NOT GG SCH) i know they need me very much&lt;br /&gt;wed: SCH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tell me, how can anyone not get busy with schedules with like this. i need a stick man. (i am juz kidding baby! lovelove!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am so going to force her to take gmax. i wil whine and whimper until she says yes.&lt;br /&gt;LOVE MA BABY! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right i have to do this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/PROMOTION%20FLYER.3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;CALL US FOR TIXS! GUARANTEE YOU HAVE FUN. MY GIRLFRIEND GUARANTEES ALL! :) NO ID CHECK, you can let yourself loose and go WHOOOOOOOOOOO!! and dance with all your friends in our hip and groovy r&amp;B! do all your crazy steps! With 1 complimentary drink! Get all the energy you need from these fruit punches and mocktails! Special : Mocktails! Glass @ $4, juggies @ $10! &lt;strong&gt;WHERE CAN YOU GET THESE DEALS? ONLY AT FLICK PARTY @ CHINABLACK! 19th Dec!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;we wil see your swoogie woogie boogie butts there! :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113259275449356024?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113259275449356024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113259275449356024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/11/whats-new-my-girlfriend-is-always.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113216274138538643</id><published>2005-11-17T01:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T01:39:01.443+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>pls remind me again if i am going zouk once more (that is, IF EVER AGAIN) that is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. it is ever ever so crowded.&lt;br /&gt;2. ladies night, 7/8 of population filled with grinding and humping men&lt;br /&gt;3. lesbians actually are bisexual creatures (i dont know.)&lt;br /&gt;4. there's no home like mad monks to accomodate me (although i went to zouk ( i was at phuture) there's tons of gay men, i felt like at home at least, but i was pulled to somewhere i didnt belong - phuture.) i was whining though.&lt;br /&gt;5. i dont actually enjoy their music.&lt;br /&gt;6. it is too crowded.&lt;br /&gt;7. very crowded.&lt;br /&gt;8. did i mention crowded?&lt;br /&gt;9. super crowded, cant even move your feets&lt;br /&gt;10. lastly, crowded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the ultimate reason is that my girlfriend wasnt there with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the only reason how zouk can bring me back is:&lt;br /&gt;1. lychee martini @ $12&lt;br /&gt;2. lychee martini with 2 lychee&lt;br /&gt;3. lychee martini with 3 lychee&lt;br /&gt;4. lychee martini with 5 lychee&lt;br /&gt;5. lychee martini with 6 lychee.&lt;br /&gt;6. my girlfriend is with me, she go where i go where.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need my girlfriend, okay, in another 7 hours i will be there with my sweetheart. i miss you baby. :( even lychee martini cant beat you!&lt;br /&gt;okay i need to recuperate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s: share my can of lychee with you tmr lor. slurps.&lt;br /&gt;p/s2: i have a 600dollar hp bills to clear. any one?&lt;br /&gt;p/s3: i still have my menses.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113216274138538643?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113216274138538643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113216274138538643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/11/pls-remind-me-again-if-i-am-going-zouk.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113213591577482789</id><published>2005-11-16T18:10:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T18:13:47.560+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>char's birthday at zouk tonite. here i am clad in my underpants and wrapped up in the sleeping bag. i gather its gonna rain later, and i am still sitting here, for i am going to be late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;groans. someone! tell my baby i miss her wont you? :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113213591577482789?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113213591577482789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113213591577482789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/11/chars-birthday-at-zouk-tonite.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113189440890927006</id><published>2005-11-13T23:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T23:06:48.986+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i am very selfish. i will slit my wrist if you leave me. i will slit anywhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113189440890927006?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113189440890927006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113189440890927006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/11/i-am-very-selfish.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113180350835393008</id><published>2005-11-12T21:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-12T23:00:05.016+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/office-building.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/office-building.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/BAR-B-Q.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/BAR-B-Q.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/pack-square.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/pack-square.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; grins :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113180350835393008?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113180350835393008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113180350835393008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/11/grins.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113172369248715037</id><published>2005-11-11T23:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-11T23:42:01.096+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>you know what? i've not been spending much time with my baby and i am missing her so much so much so much. but i guess she doesnt know, she thinks that i dont care. she thinks i am losing interest in her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT BABY! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! i would never, ever, lose interest in. i love you so much sweetie. if only you can touch my heart and feel how much i am in love with you! :( you dont understand my love for you..boooohooohoooo.. i miss you so much darling. i cant wait til the second til i could hold u in arms again. I LOVE YOU Baby. ALWAYS. you are always inmy heart and mind! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i heart you darling!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s: i have no idea who have i been morphed to, but well, the gist of entry is about there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113172369248715037?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113172369248715037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113172369248715037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/11/you-know-what-ive-not-been-spending.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113137337273488560</id><published>2005-11-07T21:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-07T22:22:52.756+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>to my girlfriend, i am so sorry i didnt want to tell you things right now cos you're having your exams and i didnt want to stress you out but you can read it here once you're online, cos when you're online means you're either free or relieving stress so you can take on mine. haha, i love you baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today is such an annoying day. my friend, S is so childish. i called her and then texted her but she didnt reply at all and when i woke up at like 4plus am? i saw her texts saying she was sick and all cos i asked if she wanna gym today, but when she didnt reply so i thought its off. but i came to sch and she asked if i had bought my gym stuffs, obviously i said no then went on telling her i only received her texts. AND then she went on blabbling on that she replied me like so early and stuff like that and that my phone is lousy and stuff like that? god, how old is she still using such defense lines? (she's 18)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and she's really very annoying and childish. everytime i make some comment on this girl or that girl ( like i said that this girl in magazine looked like our classmates and she would loudly claimed that i like her repeated and even went over to tell her?) like omg? seriously she should get a life.&lt;br /&gt;AND when we are gg home, i told her im waiting for my mom to come and fetch me. and then she said that i am a rich spoilt brat and claims that whoever lives at pasir ris are rich! what bullshit is that. then she went on asking me like how many storeys i am staying??! so i told her, HDB and you know what she said? wow, must be a rich and nice HDB?.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SERIOUSLY. get a life bitch. and she really went on about how rich i am and spoilt? FUCK? i wish i am rich like her. (she gets abt 800per month 500from dad 300 from mom, only child, parents take care of her hp bills) ME? i get only miserable 400 and i have to pay my own handphone bill which cost abt 3/4 of my allowance. and i have to freaking take care of my meals from monday to saturday. i have to bother about my transportation fees. i feel so terrible and my gf has to chip in to feed me sometimes. IS IT SO FUCKING WRONG TO SAVE ON TRANSPORT AND GET MOM TO FETCH? nabeh. so what i am the only child? not all only child are rich and spoilt. I WISH I WAS SPOILT. i would probably be running around with a car already or golfing at some country club or send over to overseas university without seeing that loser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like REALLY. grow up man. so what you're outspoken man. so what you have all these knowledge or least brainy? and you know what did she text me like 5mins ago? she asked me how was the movie, was it touching? so i replied not yet, doing research.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and you know what the fucking bitch replied? "why? trying to impress ur leader is it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LIKE WHATEVER.&lt;/strong&gt; at least i dont talk big and work with mouth, i work with mouth, brain and limbs. i dont have to impress ANYONE. i am working for my RESULTS. this is really maddening. i wish she would meet her rival and keep her bitchy trap shut. i tell you she's even more spoilt PLEASE. so fat, then still go expression and make herself slim down (which is not even working). okay i am feeling bad. KFJSD:OIUDHSIULDHSANIUDSUID&amp;#Q$#$*(#$&amp;amp;*($#&amp;(*DUIS&amp;amp;(DSS(D*&amp;*SD&amp;amp;*&amp;(*SD(A&amp;amp;(*#$&amp;(). what a kanninabei chaocheebye kia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pissed man upon typing all these. know what? i am not exactly enrolled YET. FUCK FUCK FUCK. i am damn stressed bcos of this. I AM REALLY VERY STRESSED OUT. they say they are allowing me to take free lessons! and then wait for me to INVESTIGATE FINISH then enrol me. i tot i can get this off my fucking chest but NO. and i have so much things to do. i have my camp stuffs, TWO CAMPS somemore. i feel like killing myself. and my mom is so irritating, going cruise and then back for a few weeks and then OFF TO EYGPT. what the fuck. fine lah, she can go do all these exotic things and leave me alone lah. WHO SAID I AM SPOILT AND RICH. MY MOM IS SPOILT AND RICH NOT ME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i need my girlfriend very much, but right now i am gg to indulge in some drama.&lt;br /&gt;i am stiill very angry and stressed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113137337273488560?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113137337273488560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113137337273488560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/11/to-my-girlfriend-i-am-so-sorry-i-didnt.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113134273297668249</id><published>2005-11-07T13:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-07T13:52:12.990+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>whee! i am in sch eplaza right now. went thru some project shit, and now i am trying out the computer here! i cant log into my own account please! :( i have to depend on someone still..sigh. my classes are like till 7 late! i am sooo lazy. baby's having her o's papers today. missed her so much. hhhmm. i gtg. my next class (sociology) is starting in abt 10mins time! RUNN! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s: what a juvenile entry&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113134273297668249?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113134273297668249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113134273297668249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/11/whee-i-am-in-sch-eplaza-right-now.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113102829981059106</id><published>2005-11-03T22:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-03T22:33:51.913+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Happy ninth and a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally talked through, what hurt us most deep inside our hearts. We went through what lessons should be learnt. We see through each other with glistened eyes, eventually tearful drops. Close friends should be able to guess what we have talked. It was hard to open my mouth to speak and to reach. Heavy weights upon my shoulders, this guilt will never be shed away. When you said you went through all the shits for me, now i am going through twice of it, twice the guilt, twice the shame. My best would be that I have to forget, to let go. But I will never ever forget those fateful days. Those fateful days broke our bond, trust and love. I am working on it, building it piece by piece back. Bullshit to those who said will be able to live without love, bullshit to me. I once said to my friend, that she would be able to live without love. I can, I can do without love. But I cant do without the girl I love. She has changed my life so much, she is part of my life, part of me. My heart's full with so much rushed-love for her, the love that surged through each moment i think of her. My defense breaks so easily when she is around, I feel so relaxed, so free. I felt like I was..me. She took me in her arms just the way I am. She saw no flaws in me, just like how perfect she is in my eyes. She cares and fusses, she nags and screams, she whines and whimpers, she loves me.. she loves me. It is all out of love, everything she do, is all out of love. I see it now, I see so clearly. I've never felt like this before, not with anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can do whatever i want infront of her. I burped, i farted, i stripped, i whined, i screamed, i cried. I dont have to have a front infront of her. She did not stereotyped me as what a stupid butch should be. (we dont need labels) And i love her for that. She saw me as who i am, she loves me for who i am. This is a genuine love. She's my gem. She will never find me out of her sight.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to God, I turned back and pleaded her to take me back after a foolish mistake. Hear me from me audience, I will never break her heart again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For I had almost lost a good thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113102829981059106?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113102829981059106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113102829981059106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/11/happy-ninth-and-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113093741532839866</id><published>2005-11-02T21:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-02T21:16:55.346+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN1996.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy Ninth sweetpie&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN1996.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSCN1996.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Another piece of good news, i am offically a NYP student! :) not that my urine test is cleared or anything futhermore i've been REFERED to CGH to further investigation. Hmm, this month must be good. Filled up by my lovely sweetheart and school. okay now i need to juz clear up my adminstration stuff. im sorry for being just a lousy blogger.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;BUY TICKETS FROM US! PARTY TILL YOU DROP @ CHINA BLACK. NO AGE LIMIT NO ID CHECK! YOU WILL NEVER REGRET IT! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;p/s: sorry i have to do this. haha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113093741532839866?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113093741532839866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113093741532839866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/11/happy-ninth-sweetpie.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113033656771331042</id><published>2005-10-26T22:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T13:37:55.610+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7552/114/1600/THISISCONFIRMONE.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7552/114/320/THISISCONFIRMONE.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7552/114/1600/NONPARTY.11.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/NONPARTY.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grab your tickets soon before it runs out!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;19th December&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;The best part : NO AGE LIMIT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TRENDY IN YOUR SMART CASUAL&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PRESALE @ $14 ; DOOR @ $17&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;INCLUSIVE OF ONE DRINK. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GROOVE ALL NIGHT! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SO WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CALL US!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113033656771331042?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113033656771331042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113033656771331042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/10/grab-your-tickets-soon-before-it-runs.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-113016800910387217</id><published>2005-10-24T23:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-24T23:35:05.880+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Disappointments once again. I failed my urine test. For the fifth time, i think. I dont think i am really very bothered by it. i guess i kinda knew it? yeah, felt kinda helpless but what else? i am facing these all alone. i kinda told my parents about it, and my dad thought i was joking and went back watching tv. ... ?! i gave up you know. it was hard breaking news already, i was finding the best way to break the news and i decided to give it in a very jovial way, but i was slapped with such replies. i am &lt;a href="mailto:veryfuckedupgal@gmail.com"&gt;veryfuckedupgal@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am listening to shan wee on radio. sometimes he's sooo.. omg, i dont know. he's strumming guitar and singing song which kinda make me wanna play the guitar right now. -scurries off to find the guitar. aiya, very fucked up now leh. i dont know what to do tmr in school, i will sure be rejected by the school. OH GOD. THEY ARE DEPRIVING ME OF MY EDUCATION HOW CAN THIS HAPPEN. oh dear, this entry is fucked up too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as usual, i am too fucked up to care about anything else. NO ONE ELSE CARES ABOUT ME. WHEN I SAID I HAVE CANCER, SARAH SAID I WAS LYING. SEE. THIS IS WHAT I MEAN BY NO ONE CARES ABT ME ANYMORE, NO ONE TAKES ME SERIOUSLY ALTHOUGH I AM A JOKER BUT I GOT FEELINGS.. BOOHOOHOOO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p/s: i am having a bitch fest right now. stay clear.&lt;br /&gt;status: EMO.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-113016800910387217?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113016800910387217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/113016800910387217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/10/disappointments-once-again.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112964173755743766</id><published>2005-10-18T21:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T21:22:17.563+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i've not been sleeping well, not resting well and uh not blogging as well. but my appetite is absolutely normal or maybe bigger. i cannot start a day without worrying my day away. i've been snapping at many people lately. my parents, baby and cousin. i couldnt helped it. i hope they will understand. for i am going through this shit plainly, alone. i dont need any pity, from the beginning until the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wonder when will i be able to strike these off my chest:&lt;br /&gt;1) urine test&lt;br /&gt;2) clear urine test&lt;br /&gt;3) collect urine test results&lt;br /&gt;4) exchange for student card&lt;br /&gt;5) official enrolment.&lt;br /&gt;6) my laptop&lt;br /&gt;7) my tutorials and e learning.&lt;br /&gt;8) quit worrying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;first 3 must be completed and cleared, if not.. there's no way i can take these off my chest. i am going for the urine test tmr, i dont know what my results will be, i dont want to guess. i am so angry at myself for being like this. i bought this upon myself. karma, probably. i dont know.&lt;br /&gt;i really like my classes at nyp. its so interesting, its so.. me. i found it, but now maybe God wants to take it away from me. i hate it when the lecturers asked about my lanyard.. i have to lie and say that i've my menses and unable to take it yet hence unable to hand in medical form. i feel so 2nd class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont know what to do if i cant be accepted in nyp officially. i'm walking away from all the troubles in my life , just like how Craig David did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112964173755743766?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112964173755743766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112964173755743766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/10/ive-not-been-sleeping-well-not-resting.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112955913847887277</id><published>2005-10-17T22:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T22:25:38.490+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>first day of school today, but as an unenrolled student. what an irony. i am feeling like shit, i have to worry so many things. i cant even blog properly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112955913847887277?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112955913847887277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112955913847887277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/10/first-day-of-school-today-but-as.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112921362451186961</id><published>2005-10-13T21:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T22:27:04.520+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/SO%20CUTE3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/SO%20CUTE3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;WAIT. dont laugh lah. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;seriously, i think it is like totally COOL. like so totally emo punk rock style please. i've been contemplating if i should like keep this hair. well, i have been doing little surveys by sending this SO CUTE.JPG photo to my friends and been given comments like, "WAH, so not you!", "NOT BAD.", "WAH CUTE!!"- after pressing a qtn SO CUTE RIGHT!, "aye u wear wig ah?", "omg, so different!". lol, so far constructive comments. PLEASE DONT FLOOD MY BOX WITH YOUR EGGS OR PADS. but i have a qtn though, AM I CUTEE? -does the twist.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;mom is going hongkong tmr, so i was just trying my luck see if she wld want to give some cash for me to spend! so i went my usual rhyme, in abba's money money money, "mommy mommy mommy, i want some money, why dont you give to me!" but as usual, she just walked away, ok lor, she's walking out of my life lor. fine lor, walk lah WALK LAH. (tmr i will ask again). had a day over at baby's! i was one way today, was really upset that i have to control my raging hormones. what if they wont work anymore next week? i need to increase libido. -surfs porn. just kidding of cos! we ordered (once again) so much food for lunch that we have to throw away some few strands of (?!) fries. we're big food lovers, but i dont understand why she so small and i am like beefy. -flexes muscles which obviously sagged down to fats. -flexes again. AH, my 'mouse' is not so bad, well it gave me stamina to.. lol. :) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;rushed down to nyp for my enrolment, i had everything! but i cant be enrolled, cos i do not have my medical report with me. sigh, felt a little disappointed. but whatever, i guess i just have to eat my medicine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*mental note : eat medicine. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;yeah but i was just thinking that what if i cant be enrolled? can i get back my money? its alot of money. i wil make sure they refund ALL. yeah, then we cabbed down to town (we cabbed everywhere today), she was meeting mom and i was left ALL alone to go home. oh, my grandfather was admitted into the hospital bcoz he couldnt eat well, i want to see him tmr, i mean i am going to see him. poor him, i love him. so i am soo bad at blogging today. well at least i have one thing off my chest that is my enrolment documents! right now, all i have to do is to go orientation tmr, (OMG, its so late already i have to sleep to conserve energy) and then i will make some friends... thinking about making friends once again, is like.. totally laychey (lazy). have to totally introduce yourself, i shy. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i have this friend, lets name him A (wah so obvious), he took charge of taking public duties in for our sch, so accidentally he accepted this duty at Kusu Island but we have events on that day so we are unable to do it, so he replied the pd officer : &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Hi Mdm,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Recently you have given a public duty(Kiasu Island) to XXX Corps, I sorry to tell you that we aren't able take up this public duty due to last minutes school event. I had tried offering this duty to XXX corps and the reply from them is that,, they are only able to take up one day of the duty which is the Sunday. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sorry for any inconveniences caused.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A, XXX. "&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;you people out there, begin your test now, spot the mistakes and of course laugh. (-looks at carrie) damnit i feel so bad about it. lol, but that Kiasu Island is the maximum i can take,. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112921362451186961?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112921362451186961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112921362451186961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/10/wait.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112911124597813772</id><published>2005-10-12T17:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T22:11:15.673+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>stop envying me. i had my menses like yesterday! its really damn it dampening. i am supposed to have sex this week, but now seems like things have changed. what are the chances that i will be able to finish menses tmr? none, i guess. well, updating on my urine test, i failed again. this is the 2nd time i've failed in a week. if i am to fail one more time, i have to say good bye to my nyp enrolment. i am taking anti biotics right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i flushed down litres of water but it didnt helped. there was blood in my urine (plasmas) and it is reviewed as abnormality. when the missy(nurse) told me i've failed, with a gentle smile, i've no idea if i was supposed to cry or whatever. i took a few seconds to reply her. i had to see a doctor, she said. so i went into the doc's (SENIOR MEDICAL OFFICER), he hi-ed me and gave me this questioning look and threw, what happened? I WAS like, hello? who's holding the job right now man. i was pretty upset, i guess its obvious, cos all my answers are really short and with that blank look on my face (not knowing what to feel). so he said, it might be cancer or any sinister illness since it might not be infection cos i did not feel any pain while urinating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.... hold on a sec. you're right. you saw what i typed. i believed that i was the last person to contract any major illness. i was alone at the clinic, shouldering all the lab results and disappointments. actually, i didnt pictured this scene so soon. that i was thrown into all this, alone. i've not told my parents about this, i mean, i see no point (except to get money). the doc asked if i wanted to further my investigation but i immediately replied no. i didnt want to face this at all, i dont want to know, you know how people say that some things are better left unsaid. all i was thinking was about the enrolment. i had to get to the deadline. i have to meet the deadline, i cant wait anymore. but i regretted immediately after i went out of the doc's, i dont want to die. i dont want to bleed(plasmas). so i called up the sch, the person answering also quite rude, telling her that i wld not be able to hand up my medical reports, then she went on saying that no use, must have letter if not no use. wtf? fine, i went back to get my letter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;till now, i dont know what i should feel. should i be panicked? FYI, i've been tested for urine tests for several times in last 3years for overseas trips, the result's always the same - blood in urine. but i would passed the 2nd round. i guess, not this time. now i am praying that i would be okay (bloodless/plasmasless) in a week's time for my 3rd test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spinning : black eye peas - pump it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no i dont want to pump it anymore. i'm going to pump out the blood/plasma. (&lt;strike&gt;LOUDER &lt;/strike&gt;HARDER)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s : Miss baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-edit__&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;there was a debate if lesbian sex was better than hetero sex. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so one member shot back:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a man once says this: what's so good about woman touching another woman?we have fingers &amp; tongue too. u know my answer was: yeah, but do you know how to use it?&lt;br /&gt;my real comment is that you must know what your girl wants &amp; likes to bring her the orgasm &amp;amp; cum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and another member: only if you use a dildo ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and comes another: hey xxx(the above member)... we do it the a-la naturale way - no toys needed... batteries not included too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this member rocks : what i think is : men are such insensitive animals so when it comes to sex, they just penetrate gals with their stupid dick and bang all the way to orgasm... they just care about cumming themselves and dont care whether their gals are enjoying too...(TOTALLY TRUE - this is my comment. lol)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and this : I quote a friend who said,'Women bodies are like landscapes.""Men bodies, however.. are like dry land. It's dead. Filled with sand. Flat and shapeless."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and this is good : Lesbian sex is like forbidden fruit;Same sexs are not allowed to have sex with each other...It's the social perception and in many places forbidden by the law...While the hetero sex can be everywhere; and there is even a sex industry for it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;how to make your partner wetter?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this member totally went : anyone tried fucking their gf while they r having menses?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and this member so funny lah : having sex while having period CONFIRM and already (bloody) wet liao!!! hahaha! (lol, get it?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol, this frequent member: yes .... wen you are having ur mense... thats wen u r super duper HORNY!!breast start to swell and grow bigger. need to have sex for that whole week~!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this frequent member posted : &lt;strong&gt;pls explain what is orgasm, and how will you know if you reach orgasm and how to know how many times have you cum ? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol. this woman : hmm what i'm interested to know is, has anyone tried female ejaculation before? once you hit an orgasm, what happens if you keep going? i've read that the feeling that you've got to pee is not actually pee but it'll be some kind of vaginal fluid that will shoot out? we're quite scared to try leh quite embarrassing to pee on girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then that frequent member: its ok to pee or even fart wen making love .hahahahahh .wen both parties are together , everything bad and good also can do . dont shy shy . (LOL!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to liyi this is for you : &lt;a href="http://www.libida.com/content/howto/home.php?howto_id=4&amp;id=1349349996?ref=OVERPFP&amp;amp;OVRAW=how%20to%20stimulate%20the%20g%20spot&amp;OVKEY=stimulate%20g%20spot&amp;amp;OVMTC=standard"&gt;http://www.libida.com/content/howto/home.php?howto_id=4&amp;id=1349349996?ref=OVERPFP&amp;amp;OVRAW=how%20to%20stimulate%20the%20g%20spot&amp;OVKEY=stimulate%20g%20spot&amp;amp;OVMTC=standard&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112911124597813772?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112911124597813772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112911124597813772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/10/stop-envying-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112896210538569113</id><published>2005-10-11T00:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T20:41:19.500+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>uh i hate to admit this, but.. i enjoyed playing maplestory! omg, its so knnbccb. i'm sorry, found zero words to fit in the description! i think its kinda lame, with all those kids (i mean it, kids that aged 12++) and i managed only to find one eighteen year old. that's beside me. oh well.&lt;br /&gt;i'm like totally slacking at home, but fret not, i am so going to poly already. next week, infact this week i wld be travelling down to hand up my enrolment package! :) wah, excited already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have to say this. my breasts are like huge. i hate it, seriously. its getting on my nerves but no binding!! i mean, i used to but its like so torturous to my friends (my breasts). plus i get those binder lines on it, looked so ugly. i think my breasts grow. duh. ok what am i ranting about but, i think i should have wore sports bra at home like every minute lah. (you're right, i am not wearing bra, now too) i mean you're at home, you shld let your friends, uh be carefree right! from some i hear, if you wear bra to sleep, you might just get breast cancer or smth, cos the blood clot there or smth. hahahaa, this is totally bull! seriously man, i need to suck out all the fats. mom says that i am fat, hence fat breasts. fine, i accepted it. but still, well, my mom's friends are so huge please. well, heehee, the girls in the house dont wear bra, sleep with only underwear (not me, i sleep empty). hahaha, not like there are many girls in the house! only 2; me and mom. wheee, when daddy is out of singapore, we just plainly do everything either nakedly or just underwear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with all due respect to all the buddha statues, i try to clothe myself often. but i would just say sorry and strip. i mean, look, singapore is really hot. and you cant expect me to switch on my aircon 24/7. dad would just hit the rooftop please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;omg, its so late, i am so going to sch (MI) to withdraw. with my alarm clock set at 5am to wake up (OH ONCE AGAIN). i am going to send baby to sch first then go to school. im like the perfect girlfriend. (maine stabs me with knife) HAHA, i love baby! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN2019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN2019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my coughing is really bad, its really dry and irritating. but i really want a.. gin tonic. tsk. (haha, carrie, enjoy!) -coughs. i've been drinking litres of water so i can maybe pass my urine test.. ive been tested for drugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just kidding. stupid. i am so healthy. (my menses isnt here since aug? lol)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112896210538569113?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112896210538569113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112896210538569113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/10/uh-i-hate-to-admit-this-but.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112875625372171406</id><published>2005-10-08T15:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T15:24:13.730+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hello, good morning, how ya do?&lt;br /&gt;What makes your rising sun so new?&lt;br /&gt;I could use a fresh beginning too&lt;br /&gt;All of my regrets are nothing new&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is the way&lt;br /&gt;that I say that I need You&lt;br /&gt;This is the way&lt;br /&gt;This is the way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That I'm learning to breathe&lt;br /&gt;I'm learning to crawl&lt;br /&gt;I'm finding that You and&lt;br /&gt;You alone can break my fall&lt;br /&gt;I'm living again, awake and alive&lt;br /&gt;I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello, good morning, how ya been?&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday left my head kicked in&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I could fall like that&lt;br /&gt;Never knew that I could hurt this bad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm learning to breathe&lt;br /&gt;I'm learning to crawl&lt;br /&gt;I'm finding that You and&lt;br /&gt;You alone can break my fall&lt;br /&gt;I'm living again, awake and alive&lt;br /&gt;I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is the way&lt;br /&gt;that I say that I need You&lt;br /&gt;This is the way&lt;br /&gt;That I say I love You&lt;br /&gt;This is the way&lt;br /&gt;That I say I'm Yours&lt;br /&gt;This is the way&lt;br /&gt;This is the way&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;scrunched up feelings never go away, when you came across, the mixture of love and pain along with. i longed to see your face, touch your skin, feel your touch, kiss your lips. thousand characters, unable to fit in the words that i tried to revive the love, this morning. millions of misses, how can i clear them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;clearing them in an hour's time, till i reach your lips.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112875625372171406?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112875625372171406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112875625372171406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/10/hello-good-morning-how-ya-do-what.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112860995782940347</id><published>2005-10-06T22:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-06T22:45:57.836+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN1968.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN1968.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OKAY, I TOTALLY GOT IT. my appealing fucking went through and i fucking got a place in NYP already! :) and guess what? im starting sem 2 immediately! wow, feel like genius, skipping sem 1. walau, i am like damn happy please. chanmalichan can kiss my ass good bye. okay, i am going to pass up my withdrawal form SOON before they expell ME. knn. i am coughing like mad. i wanna clubbbbbbbbbbbbbbb! next event wld be uh, herstory party ZSA is going sing solo at Gotham. coughs coughs. im going like mad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i loveeeeeeeeeeeeeee baby! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112860995782940347?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112860995782940347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112860995782940347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/10/okay-i-totally-got-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112853523607949102</id><published>2005-10-06T01:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-06T02:00:36.086+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN18601.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/DSCN18601.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;promos is right tmr, feeling kinda.. shitty or smth. oh well, tired man, after shifting these blog stuff. oh yeah, liyi, (if you're reading) this geog text is for you! :) go all the way for it. im gonna crash now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112853523607949102?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112853523607949102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112853523607949102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/10/promos-is-right-tmr-feeling-kinda.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112841640148919843</id><published>2005-10-04T16:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-04T17:00:01.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/scary1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/scary1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok look, this is scary. it juz happened right behind my block.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112841640148919843?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112841640148919843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112841640148919843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/10/ok-look-this-is-scary.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112819128374428423</id><published>2005-10-02T02:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-02T02:28:03.753+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;GUESS WHAT'S THE DAY RIGHT NOW?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:) its our 8th &lt;strike&gt;year&lt;/strike&gt; month! we definitely went through so much to get to where we are today, special thanks to bad memories (hmm) cos without them, we wouldnt be stronger. what's a relationship without these bad downs. we would have probably be bored to death. but i am so glad, we emerged from it. plus i really dont like these downs, its pretty scary and upsetting cos i dont wanna lose her. i'll do anything to keep her by my side; she can kick me in the face, bite my ass, switch off the air con and draw the curtain when i want to sleep. i dont care. just contented on how things are right now! yeah, you people, say whatever you like, we are old boring couple who &lt;strike&gt;kept having sex&lt;/strike&gt;, quarrels for stupid things (where's the fun man!), cuddles on the sofa and talk about anything, lies on the bed and begging each other to get dressed up to go down to get food. hahaha, can anyone just get the fun that we do? (can see eyes rolled from aaronn, carrie, jp, nic, liyi, riah and probably more.) its so fun being together, we're like best friends hanging out, except that best friends dont actually LOVE that way. i like it still when her expression (wowed and gasped) at my bonfire in her kitchen. oh man, she's so cute. like the cutest on earth. i wished i was that cute. HAHA (damnit) she's so so so so silly all the times, i love it when she tells me everything that happens in sch especially funny things and with her expressions, oh man, she's my drama queen. i can never ever find anyone like her. (those who are reading, dont bother imitating) cos what she does, comes truly from her heart, and i love her heart and soul. &lt;strong&gt;this lovely girl, is mine&lt;/strong&gt;. (SO FOR GOD'S SAKE, DONT ADD HER IN FRIENDSTER ANYMORE AND PRETEND WANT TO BE FRIENDS OK.) just thinking of her got me grinning like a fool infront of this big fat monitor. i'm sorry i am actually ranting on how this love rocks! i just had a cup of cappuccino at starbucks a few hours ago, and i'm very awake. i like to travel from pasir ris to choa chu kang to pick her up from tuition (i complained quietly though). i am truly amazed by the patience and love i have, travelling more than an hour just to bring this girl back home safely. ( i know, dont say it, singapore is small) i love her kisses, so tender so sweet. her hugs, are so firm and tight, always making me feel closer to her. (i am sorry, but this lovebird must sing her song, what to do, its the 8th.) she is really the sweetest of all, sigh. i am always looking at her, wondering how could that be the fact that she is mine? no one will be able to understand. only those who are truly in love and blissfully happy will understand. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we worked well, i hope other couples are as happy as we are. cos dont believe the myth that r/s that comes to seventh is wrecked, it wont be wrecked if you dont wreck it. (tiffy, THIS IS FOR U)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love is happy. i am happy. :) so happy 8th, germaine glenda pereira aka Mrs Seah (watch out you bastards trying to get her, esp J*n*van. Piss off man!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112819128374428423?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112819128374428423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112819128374428423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/10/guess-whats-day-right-now-its-our-8th.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112798775340610710</id><published>2005-09-29T17:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-29T17:55:53.413+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>lights will guide you home. yeah right. my shrewd life begins today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112798775340610710?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112798775340610710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112798775340610710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/lights-will-guide-you-home.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112782772670397050</id><published>2005-09-27T21:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T21:28:46.710+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>im weaker everyday, i hate fighting. i dont want to make choices. everything is weighing down. I HATE MYSELF. oh what's new.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112782772670397050?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112782772670397050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112782772670397050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/im-weaker-everyday-i-hate-fighting.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112766355608761055</id><published>2005-09-25T23:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-25T23:52:36.093+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i hate myself. for loving you so much. i really do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112766355608761055?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112766355608761055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112766355608761055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-hate-myself.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112759267638148693</id><published>2005-09-25T04:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-25T04:11:16.390+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hello gradesix. :) zone 8 rocks. ok, i was just being random. was at raffles marina country club for promotion ceremony, it was rather grand! :) then headed to kaki lemar for sheesha! gossip gossip gossip gossip gossip. well, what's new. LOVE MAINE. i miss her. :(ok i should like sleep, tmr got meeting! the price of gradesix. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112759267638148693?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112759267638148693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112759267638148693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/hello-gradesix.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112753416922586057</id><published>2005-09-24T11:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-24T11:56:09.233+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>fluid's and liquid room's ; 2 bourbon cokes, 1 vodka orange, 1 lychee martini.&lt;br /&gt;grins. what's life without my favourite lychee martini? the best taste ever, of cos, the juicy lycheee..i spinned in my room. now im late with a headache. well, hello to gradesix. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112753416922586057?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112753416922586057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112753416922586057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/fluids-and-liquid-rooms-2-bourbon.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112723059597042335</id><published>2005-09-20T23:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-20T23:36:35.980+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>for aaronn's humour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mom trudged into the room..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mom: &lt;em&gt;honey, why you want to quit sch..tell mama.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: *annoyed, kept quiet&lt;br /&gt;mom:&lt;em&gt; you cannot keep inside you, tell mummy, is it someone bully you in sch or not? you tell mama, please tell me, someone bully is it? everytime i watch tv, they everytime like one..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: *faints&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss baby..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112723059597042335?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112723059597042335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112723059597042335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/for-aaronns-humour.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112718910548959158</id><published>2005-09-20T11:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-20T12:05:05.496+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>miss tee: &lt;em&gt;horrible, you people, are horrible. marking your test papers will kill me. i marked the first 8 papers and i had to lie down for awhile. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i guess miss tee was being cute. melancholy is wavering about me. i feel like dying last night but as the optismistic person i am, i told myself tmr (today) will be a better day and i actually, felt a lil better. i guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i think i hate school, but no one just understands. no one &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; understands. i wish i could fly in an instance i want to. sorry i was just being random. everything sucks lah (feel so sec1 or sec2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;meeting maine, the love of my life. boohoohoo. i cant wait. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112718910548959158?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112718910548959158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112718910548959158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/miss-tee-horrible-you-people-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112709816397463948</id><published>2005-09-19T10:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T10:49:23.980+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>im sorry baby, i love you so much&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112709816397463948?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112709816397463948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112709816397463948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/im-sorry-baby-i-love-you-so-much.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112688158685427009</id><published>2005-09-16T22:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-16T22:39:46.860+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>:) life's really blissful and peaceful recently. sch's fine, and finally the weekend is here, long awaited (looks at liyi who thinks that the week has passed really fast). i really cant understand geog and literature. i think i'm going to fail badly, anyway i only aim to pass mgt, gp and chinese, afterall i only need 1A and 2 AOs to be promoted. i have no idea what to type in here. boohoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss my baby plenty. yay, i'm playing lanterns tmr! YAY! (oh man, i need to mellow man)&lt;br /&gt;aaronn's not at home, boohoohoo. im so ronely.. very ronely. HAHAHAA. ok, private joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the L word rocks. downloaded season 1 episode 1 and 2, now dowloading, epi 3, 4 ,5 ,6 ,7 ,8 ,9 10, 11, 12, 13. AHAHAHAH. shoot me someone, im just being cute. HAHAHA. ok. im crapping but  maine loves me!! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112688158685427009?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112688158685427009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112688158685427009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/lifes-really-blissful-and-peaceful.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112670830801519482</id><published>2005-09-14T22:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-14T22:31:48.020+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>L word. here i come. pardon me for posting one line sentences lately. i'm too caught up with my own life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112670830801519482?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112670830801519482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112670830801519482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/l-word.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112662103598052006</id><published>2005-09-13T22:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-13T22:17:15.996+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i still cant accept the fact that.. on the expense of my blooders. ok fuck myself off.&lt;br /&gt;i love you maine. everything's for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112662103598052006?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112662103598052006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112662103598052006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-still-cant-accept-fact-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112645099662370354</id><published>2005-09-11T22:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-11T23:03:16.630+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>cause my baby, you're gonna be the one who saves me..&lt;br /&gt;and afterall, you're my wonderwaalllll..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maine lah. i hate it when i miss her so much and i hate the fact that she is not here with me every minute. i'm going to be one lovesick puppy until tomorrow i see her again in the morning. oh man, i am fucking dreading school tmr (maine..i mean mainly because of the test tmr) i havent even touch it PLEASE. i'm just too fucked up to care anymore (WAHAHA) and currently joi cai is crooning on my iTunes! i love her soulful voice, such serenity. i hate to pout right now, cos i miss maine like CRAZY. my baby is sucha poor thing, mugging for prelims when I AM JUST.. SLACKING AT ONE CORNER LIKE A FUCKING BITCH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i actually missed liyi, hilmi, riah, sarah (both buster and classter), mai, and renu. the lighters of my life. (sorry, maine is the flame of my life)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cries. maine loves me so much, boohoohoo.&lt;br /&gt;ok she wants me to sleep. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ENJOY PEOPLE, if you love SHAN WEE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN0783.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN0783.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you even know who's Shan Wee? Perfect 10 DJ for Latenight shows on Weekdays.&lt;br /&gt;(i am standing on a chair)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112645099662370354?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112645099662370354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112645099662370354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/cause-my-baby-youre-gonna-be-one-who.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112636734335214207</id><published>2005-09-10T23:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-10T23:49:03.363+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;feasting on the scottish serenity. says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;they're not called sex tapes here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;feasting on the scottish serenity. says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;its fantasy tapes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;feasting on the scottish serenity. says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;hahahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;king dyke ( do you think of me when you fantasize?) says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hahhhahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;feasting on the scottish serenity. says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and no i din get those for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;feasting on the scottish serenity. says:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its smth you can wear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;king dyke ( do you think of me when you fantasize?) says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;feasting on the scottish serenity. says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;both of you have one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;king dyke ( do you think of me when you fantasize?) says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;i hope its a good dildo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;feasting on the scottish serenity. says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;hahahahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;king dyke ( do you think of me when you fantasize?) says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;HAHAHAa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;king dyke ( do you think of me when you fantasize?) says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;OH GOD&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;feasting on the scottish serenity. says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;and its cute&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;feasting on the scottish serenity. says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;eeeeeeeeeew&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;king dyke ( do you think of me when you fantasize?) says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;king dyke ( do you think of me when you fantasize?) says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;hehehehehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;feasting on the scottish serenity. says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;have sex wit it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;feasting on the scottish serenity. says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;its hottt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;feasting on the scottish serenity. says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;hahahahahahahah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;king dyke ( do you think of me when you fantasize?) says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;king dyke ( do you think of me when you fantasize?) says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;OH MANZ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-looks at baby.&lt;br /&gt;bestie was just being naughty, but haha, i like that idea! something kinky to spice up our lives and unlike some beings have to resort to create a blog to mock someone? that's really like the lowest point of their lives. God, i hope they have fun while it last.&lt;br /&gt;cos karma does return.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112636734335214207?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112636734335214207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112636734335214207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/feasting-on-scottish-serenity.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112636363050544239</id><published>2005-09-10T22:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-10T22:47:10.513+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>pretty flustered up these few days upon news flashes to my ears. i didnt really want read about school of scandals by richard sheridan until lately. how mr backbite and lady sneerwell stab everyone else. i guess, lately i've been stabbed pretty badly, well, not only me but someone else too. well, what are friends for? i'm so incoherent in my entry but who cares. this world is so full of hostility and impulsiveness. (like i dont know, but i just feel like typing) everyone is just stereotyping everyone. oh fuck, i'm BSing here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;stormed in maine's kitchen, smoked her house. haha, it was rather a cute sight to see her running about to open the windows and i love it when her eyes widened when the pan caught fire and she went,'yeoooow!'. i am currently exploring dad's new phone, its damn chic and cool. its camera 2.0 mega pixels! damn good, i totally went over to mom's and was cooing her into buying the same phone as she was amazed by how clear the picture was and was swearing one corner about the resolution of her cam phone..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;am talking to bestie right now, and she claims she didnt get me a shirt but something that maine and i can role play at. .. (??) it better be good, make it a good sex tape!! :) looovee my bestttie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how weird, aaronn isnt online.&lt;br /&gt;staying up for awhile for baby, whilst she studies. my hard worker. (no other pun)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112636363050544239?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112636363050544239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112636363050544239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/pretty-flustered-up-these-few-days.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112619063522606346</id><published>2005-09-08T21:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-08T22:49:12.520+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN1817.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 76px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 86px" height="145" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN1817.jpg" width="86" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN1816.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 83px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 85px" height="111" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN1816.jpg" width="98" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN1815.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 81px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 83px" height="83" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN1815.jpg" width="131" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN18121.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 81px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 79px" height="91" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN18121.JPG" width="91" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN18101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 84px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 76px" height="102" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN18101.JPG" width="131" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN18111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 76px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 78px" height="88" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN18111.JPG" width="107" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN18131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 77px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 86px" height="96" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN18131.JPG" width="96" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN18141.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 86px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 85px" height="92" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN18141.JPG" width="98" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN1850.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 74px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 83px" height="112" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN1850.jpg" width="136" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN18231.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 70px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 78px" height="110" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN18231.JPG" width="83" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/DSCN18341.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 82px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 78px" height="90" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/200/DSCN18341.JPG" width="114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wanted to upload more, but blogger's kinda screwed. surprised baby in the morning! she wasnt awake when i was there and she wasnt really a morning person. i love that girl so much! she makes my day so much so much brighter, days i dont see in my past and i would pretty like to see brighter and shinier days ahead. i think we are getting really frustrated with each in a funny way, it seem like we've been together for all our lives, we know each other weakness so well that we like to tease each other so much. i cant imagine myself living with her, pure bliss and also pure torture. (haha, sorry baby) pure bliss ; being able to kiss, cuddle (make love), and cook her favourite meals for her and many more. pure torture ; she whined too much and she hates it when i am asleep, to vent her anger, she will off the fan, off the aircon, draw the curtain and open the window. screaming "BABY!" from places to places (from toilet to the room) and alot more. all these built up so much that i cant never live without it anymore. its so much more interesting and beautiful than my past relationships (sorry, exs if you happen to be here). although its only 7 months, but it has been a really heaven-hell 7 months. the kind of rollercoaster ride that you would want to sit, time and time again. we need not be mushy and romantic all the time, we're like any couple, sit down infront of the computer and bitch about anyone (HMMM), we're like friends, best friends. without her, everything in life would be so screwed up. lets say we're not meeting in the morning (FYI, we meet everyday before schl starts), i'd not have any idea what time to wake up for sch and which bus to catch, or would have any urgency to take any bus or train. see, love lah. it makes you wake up at 4.50am everyday too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'd like to carry on this journey as far as possible. i'm strong enough to carry all the load that what our future might bring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bleah. (aaronn hate this word)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;contemplating on what to do for tmr, oh, i suddenly remember i have to go sch for lit, but as usual, i cant be bothered (although i went on monday and tues religiously, but that's not the point (this is so aaronn)). its lit! oh great. but i think i should go for a swim, soak in the sun! i'm getting pale (looks at aaronn). or should i head to baby's? lately i feel i havent had much time for myself, like doing things on my own and stuffs like that. poor juls. i like to do things on my own pretty much, like going to library on my own and go out on my own, sounds like a real loser, but that's the time you have time to evaluate yourself, and make yourself feel better, of cos you must have ipod to keep you accompany (looks at aaronn). CONTEMPLATION IN PROGRESS......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;baby: -scratches my playboy&lt;br /&gt;me: -frantic &lt;em&gt;HOI!! dont! its like 70 dollars PLEASE, dont scratch.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;baby: -anger fills her &lt;em&gt;WHAT? SAY AGAIN? -&lt;/em&gt;proceeding to pull my ear&lt;br /&gt;me: -squirms with pain &lt;em&gt;NO LAH NO LAH, only 10 dollar!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;baby: -twisting my ear &lt;em&gt;SWEAR? HOW MUCH AGAIN?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: -drown in pain &lt;em&gt;SWEAR, SOOMPA, 10 DOLLARS.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;baby: -looks at my limbs &lt;em&gt;make sure you dont cross your fingers and toes..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: -nods eagerly.&lt;br /&gt;baby: -mean face&lt;em&gt; dont bluff me, i will call aaronn. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: &lt;em&gt;call lor, i scared! &lt;/em&gt;-runs away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this entry is totally aaronn-zenned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112619063522606346?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112619063522606346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112619063522606346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/wanted-to-upload-more-but-bloggers.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112585479038978086</id><published>2005-09-05T00:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-05T01:26:30.403+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i was looking back at olden times when my hair was longer and times when center parting was still cool, i just cant refuse a goofy grin. i guess i'm all grown up. (all sorts of places, hint) chancing upon michelle on the way home, we talked and suddenly i tapped on her shoulder and give a menacing face and ask that why didnt she told me abt zahid. you see, zahid was a colleague of mine working at downtown themepark abt half a year or so. a few months or probably just a month or so back, zahid met with an accident, he didnt really need the hospital, he died half an hour later. i chanced upon diva on the train and he told me, i was in shock. cos i never thought it would happened to him. zahid, so sweet, who has beautiful eyes, such a gentle boy. so people were correct about, life's being unpredictable yeah? he's totally cute and hot. (sorry)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which brings me back to.. nicole. today, right now, her second death anniversary. two years back, it was my N level prelims. I just finished my papers and headed home to catch a wink and when i woke up, i received calls from schmates. That nicole was involved in the car accident and was sent to the hospital. And another call, to tell me she was dead. I didnt believe my ears, i was angry that such joke was made and he said, if i didnt believe, i shld go down to sch immediately to see if it was real. My heart was aching so badly and wanting to believe that Nicole had just a broken leg or so. I went down to sch, found out about the terrible truth. I broke down instantly.&lt;br /&gt;The teachers didnt want to call me, knowing that i would just break down. I was frantic, i was panicking for whatever reason i have no idea, i was in shock, i was everything.. nothing could fit in. News were everywhere, tv, radio, newspapers... Everywhere.. I cried so hard every night. So hard.. I cant forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote this on 6th Sept :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear whoever that has taken Jinjin away,I want Jin Jin back. Please be cooperative and give me jin jin back. My tears were already gone. Havent i prove enough of my sincerity? Does mutilation help? Tell me, what am i supposed to do, to have jinjin back in our lives? jinjin is an innocent girl, who just happened to be knocked down by a car. why cant jin jin be the one who left with only superficial injuries. why her? You tell me why. Ill never get to see her anymore, forever. I will never ever see her again. I cant believe that she's gone. Forever. Give me back my jinjin. I'd do anything for her to bite me again, no matter how hard, no matter how long. I'll buy her life supply of fruitella for as long as she lives.My heartache is killing me. My tears never stop rolling. Why? I.. cant accept the fact that she's gone forever. Forever. Do you understand what does forever means? I'll never ever see her again in my life anymore unless i'm able to join her in where she is. Tell me something that could ease my pain. I cried last night. I want her to come back as soon as possible, why is everyone telling me that it is impossible. I cried her names out too many times, that i thought she was calling my name out too. Why is life so unfair? its killing me slowly. Give me jinjin back. Give her back. Dont be selfish. it is hurting me and thousand of people alot right now. just give her back, and everything will be fine. i'll cherish her every second and every minute. Are you god? God answer prayers right? So, answer mine.Jin jin was never a bad girl. I love her. I never stopped loving her. We all do. So bring her back to us. Thank you. Just bring her back to us, i will never ask for anything else, i will never ask for any money or christmas presents. Just bring her back. With sincere,Yixiu&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P/S: Eye witnesses, please do Jinjin a justice. Please. I'm on both knees.I will never live the same again. Never.&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, this letter wasnt acknowledged at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And i wrote this on 8th Sept:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They pushed my Jinjin into the fire. Does it hurt, Jinjin? Devastation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I witnessed it with my own eyes. To see her being burnt to ashes.&lt;br /&gt;The 3 days and night, i've been beside her, i couldnt let go. Seeing her face, never been so peaceful and serene, in the wooden coffin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrote again, on 11th Sept :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's gone forever. Now I've accepted the fact. My grieving days should be over soon, bcuz i know she doesnt want us to stay like this forever. Right Jinjin or lol, so called neekol (emphasis on nee)? I promised that I will never forget you. Bcuz the photo that we took together on 07/08/03, will never ever be taken away.(Not the photo in the web) You looked so pretty there, and i refused to admit it when you said you were, i never wanted to give you the satisfaction, but now, effortlessly i will say it to everyone, that you are sucha beautiful girl. The memories you gave me, were the most beautiful ones, i will never forget those tiny teeny weeny lil details. You brought so much life to my life.I went to your room yesterday cuz your mom sort of summon us to your house for this newspaper interview. I thought I will never go back to your room again. bcuz i dont want to be reminded of your tradegy. I saw your ashes. and your self-taken picture. You were eating in the room. And i miss you, girl.Your mom wanted me to take back that pig of yours, that i've given to you on your birthday. Still remember that day, when I brought you to collect your 'mysterious' gift? You were overwhelmed to see the largest pig as your present. I made you walked thru the town, making you embarrassed. All these thoughts made me smile endlessly. I didnt want to bring back the pig. I want it to stay with you forever. But of cos, lol, i was rather scared to bring back that pig, and it was late at night too. The pig was your present and it is yours forever. I couldnt stay with you forever, at least the pig could. I promise you to visit you on your birthday, 10/7. And guess what? Your birthdate was my date of issue for my IC. LOL. I will never forget you. I can never. I will never forget the last look of you in the coffin before you were cremated. You looked so peaceful. I love you. I hate those bangalesh men who pushed you in, they were using too much force eh? I cant believe they pushed you in. I was burnt too. I cried your name when you were in the accident. I cried your name when i received the news. I cried your name when I saw the news. I cried your name when I saw you in the coffin. I cried when I saw you in coffin again and again. I cried when I went up to your room and found so much things. I cried when I saw you in the coffin again. I cried when i remember you. I cried when you were at Mt. Vermont. I cried when you were pushed in. My tears are gone with you. I think about you all the time, oh especially when we sing, Leaving on a jet plane. =) was it nice when we sang that song for you in mt. vermont? I hope so. bcuz i was a lil out of tune due my scratchy sexy throat. And to you, our song. Only hope - Mandy Moore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, Jinjin was never ever a sinner. You hear me right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a long goodbye, jin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so hard. So hard. Choking on these salty tears, every night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Penned this on 30th Sept :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you jin. if only you let me know.this is hurting far too much. this will take a very long long time to heal. i'm healing on the surface, but i'm not. at all. i'm all happy and laughters outside, but hey, who knows what i'm thinking inside. cuz when its late at night, all i could think is her. it must be the ally. i know i can feel her presence somehow or rather. everynight i sing her my song. written in the memories of jin. my pain was strummed with the guitar. being killed softly. i cant hold back my tears anymore. how can i ever forget this pain. save me. and jin, why didnt you let me know?&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her mom called me. And told me that she found this book, and it stated a question, "One person who is important in your life" and she found my name. Her mom cried on the phone. I was stunned. Hanged up the phone, i was so left in awe. I couldnt stop tearing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrote this on 3rd Oct:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;everything starts all over again, whenever i looked at her picture and just, ive seen thru our chat history. i'm missing her all over again. my heart's wrenching too much. can someone try to ease my pain? i cant put all this behind me. its too difficult, wherever i go, the scenes run through my mind like a racing car. this is getting harder and harder. how can i get back my genuine laughters without her. no matter how much tears were coursing down, i can never get rid of the emptiness in me. i'm so selfish. bcuz i'm not the only one grieving. her mom, i can never give her my best consolation. i'm never consoled enough to give her my console. neekol's death is so hard, for me, harder for her mom. ha, i wish that everything is still a joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and a joke that is not funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you lost someone so dearly? And did you still have that grieving ache in you?&lt;br /&gt;I cant even find you now. I love you Nicole.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112585479038978086?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112585479038978086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112585479038978086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-was-looking-back-at-olden-times-when.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112576681082797131</id><published>2005-09-04T00:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-04T01:00:10.836+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>today prolly is the first saturday that i cld be able to sleep in late, i mean LATE. really late, like 12plus, if it wasnt for mommie who called the house phone, i bet i could sleep till like 3pm or later. ! picked up baby from sch, and towned. oh man, town seem so stranger yet so boring to me right now. nothing much happening, its lik back to the same ol things. baby had a really rough day today, but i guess everything's straightened now for her! :) my silly silly silly girl. if i have 2 hearts, i wld give her another of mine. :) (FUCK, IM BULLSHITTING)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tiffy's flown to scotland. i had this conversation with her before her flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: eh bestie! flying already?&lt;br /&gt;tiff: YEAHHH.&lt;br /&gt;me: PLS REMEMBER TO BUY TSHIRT OR RACERBACK FOR ME. with scotland label.&lt;br /&gt;tiff: AIYA. im buying keychain for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.... i will really smash her if im at the airport with her. i hope she buys something decent!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh man i cant stop thinking about you-know-who. YOU KNOW WHO RIGHT GUYS? like duh, who else. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just because of you&lt;br /&gt;i had my eyes blinded.&lt;br /&gt;learnt something,&lt;br /&gt;looking thru your eyes is sucide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh boy, here comes the SEPT HOLIDAYS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112576681082797131?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112576681082797131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112576681082797131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/today-prolly-is-first-saturday-that-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112566777295338393</id><published>2005-09-02T21:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-02T21:29:32.960+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/1600/Daisy(80).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4537/128/320/Daisy%2880%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VOILA. this is my playboy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112566777295338393?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112566777295338393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112566777295338393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/voila.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112558876544088079</id><published>2005-09-01T23:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-01T23:50:43.883+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>believe it or not. i've gotten a playboy on my back. (SAY: TATTOO)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-edit 11:43pm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[verse 1]&lt;br /&gt;I dont need me a basketball player&lt;br /&gt;All I need is somebody thats down for me&lt;br /&gt;And she dont have to have money&lt;br /&gt;Her love is just like honey&lt;br /&gt;Its so sweet to me&lt;br /&gt;She can have everything in this world&lt;br /&gt;But she sacrificed it all for me&lt;br /&gt;And I made up my mind&lt;br /&gt;Im in love this time&lt;br /&gt;And it feels so real&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;And I Know that she wont break my heart&lt;br /&gt;And I Know that we wont ever part&lt;br /&gt;Its time, time for us to settle down&lt;br /&gt;And I Wanna be with her forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[verse 2]&lt;br /&gt;That cant say that I am crazy&lt;br /&gt;For makin her my baby&lt;br /&gt;Bought her flowers for me&lt;br /&gt;See I done been through many changes&lt;br /&gt;But this one I aint changing&lt;br /&gt;It's gon' stay the same I can have everything in this world&lt;br /&gt;But I'll sacrifice it all for her&lt;br /&gt;And I made up my mind&lt;br /&gt;Im in love this time&lt;br /&gt;And it feels so real&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;And I Know that she wont break my heart&lt;br /&gt;And I Know that we wont ever part&lt;br /&gt;Its time, time for us to settle down&lt;br /&gt;And I Wanna be with her forever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Bridge]&lt;br /&gt;I love you&lt;br /&gt;And all of the things that you do&lt;br /&gt;Oh baby please I need you (I need you)&lt;br /&gt;So believe me (I do) I do (oOoOOo)&lt;br /&gt;Cause I love you (I love you)&lt;br /&gt;And every lil thing baby (you do) No no OoO whooOooa OooOo&lt;br /&gt;They don't go know how I feel&lt;br /&gt;Cause I know this is real&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus 2x]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ciara - And I&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Seventh Month darling. Never knew that love could be so strong. :) Everything is real, I am real, you're real. So are we.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never ever letting go. YOU TOO OK? DONT GIVE BOYS YOUR NUMBER. GIRLS INCLUDED.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112558876544088079?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112558876544088079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112558876544088079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/believe-it-or-not.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112551024075314262</id><published>2005-09-01T01:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-01T01:44:00.760+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Chinhuat's good. Filled up. Oh man i hate such blogging. Maybe i shld just stay away from blogging until im back with content. HAHAA. meanwhile, loving Maine still! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;our 7mth coming. (HOW IRONICAL, 7MTH JUST ENDED)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112551024075314262?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112551024075314262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112551024075314262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/09/chinhuats-good.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112541949143691177</id><published>2005-08-31T00:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-31T00:31:31.480+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>detoxing failed. oh man. what's new.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112541949143691177?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112541949143691177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112541949143691177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/detoxing-failed.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112531107424463780</id><published>2005-08-29T18:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-29T18:24:34.253+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>these tears im choking back and the pain that are self-inflicted. i cant shut them out. i'm no longer myself. i've turned my back on everyone, everything. i cant handle emotions right now, i'm in so pain. who can save me? i saved people. i held on to her loads. i trudged my heavy feets to sch everyday. i stay silent every day. who am i? who are you seeing this girl as? no, i'm not that strong. felt as though everything is falling apart. my life.. i cant pick up the pieces, i cant find them. i've no strength to do so. im sorry darling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've picked up the withdrawal form.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112531107424463780?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112531107424463780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112531107424463780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/these-tears-im-choking-back-and-pain.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112523240661421478</id><published>2005-08-28T20:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-28T20:33:26.620+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>talking to baby online right now. i miss her so much, felt so away from her although we met up yesterday and shared tons of stuffs. :) AGI rehearsal today, was really slack. i was like reminded not to wear coloured bras under my uniform, cos today i wore hot pink! and almost everyone was staring! god, how embarrassing can it get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im embarking on my 3-day detox journey tomorrow. i'm filling up tonight and endure this 3 days. i seriously need to detox. so it will be water and water. mental note: bring water bottle.&lt;br /&gt;i'm little drained right now. but there's like tutorials to do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;best complete by today:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1) &lt;/strong&gt;mgt tutorial 8&lt;br /&gt;2) lit 8 PQR&lt;br /&gt;3) agenda for mtg on tues.&lt;br /&gt;4) read up on geog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have qualms about staying MI. argh, i need to think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112523240661421478?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112523240661421478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112523240661421478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/talking-to-baby-online-right-now.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112516003022851051</id><published>2005-08-28T00:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-28T00:27:10.233+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>fluid's good. damn good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112516003022851051?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112516003022851051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112516003022851051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/fluids-good.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112504678883030953</id><published>2005-08-26T16:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-26T16:59:48.853+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;miss tee to the class&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;i have never been this desperate before. desperate for collecting files. WHEN WILL YOU GUYS PASS UP YOUR FILES? -hands on hips&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;class&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;oooohhhh.. desperateeeeeeee..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;miss tee&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;em&gt; yes im very desperate.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;moshin&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;very disturbing. *&lt;/em&gt;in a old ancient tone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rouge tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112504678883030953?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112504678883030953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112504678883030953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/miss-tee-to-class-i-have-never-been.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112497537461408451</id><published>2005-08-25T21:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-25T21:09:34.620+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>nothing to post. i feel shitted. bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112497537461408451?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112497537461408451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112497537461408451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/nothing-to-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112491761699476651</id><published>2005-08-25T05:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-25T05:06:57.000+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i guess my typing is getting incoherent. it doesnt matter. i cant wait to cry.&lt;br /&gt;oh wait a min, i just did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112491761699476651?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112491761699476651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112491761699476651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-guess-my-typing-is-getting.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112489430578093337</id><published>2005-08-24T22:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-24T22:38:25.786+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i dont know how and what to vent my frustrations on. i'm wiped out to the max. i dont know what i want. i just feel like breaking down and just give up on everything. i want to throw this whole thing away. i dont want to live on with this tension that is threatening to break anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112489430578093337?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112489430578093337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112489430578093337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-dont-know-how-and-what-to-vent-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112480647653570115</id><published>2005-08-23T21:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-23T22:14:36.553+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;what you said, pretty much wounded me. no right anyway.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i ought to transform my blog into this daily to-do list. i need to move. promos are coming damn. everyone's so pissed off in our class, highly stressed, everyone's on the run today cos of the damnit file checking. everyone's rushing and feeling really fucked up esp, cos of him. i am one of the exceedingly fucked up students. he wants to call my parents down cos of my absenteeism, without mcs. i was feeling like im forced to jump off the edge of the cliff, verge of tears. but i refused to show it, i had to just stone there and just think of the worst comings. but im just sore. i thrashed it out with him, cos i know i produce mc more than i dont. he reasoned saying he did check and tallied everything and if i dont believe, i can go down and check the attendance with him. yeah right, i have no idea i've been late to sch for 4 times. the only time i knew i was late was ONCE, cos i really wrote my name down on the latecoming paper. seriously, if im late, i wont go to sch, but i dont understand why i am so stupid to be even late for 4times! and that resulted an letter to my dad, and another letter for my absenteeism. now im heating up, thinking about it. i dont blame him cos its my own act, but i dont see why the fact he is calling my mom or vice-versa, almost everyday or smth. something is fishy here. i dont know, maybe i am just oversensitive.  yeah, then he asked me to pay up $21.70 for some class thing, then i was like totally reluctant, so i went and go on saying, " why dont you call my mom and ask, since you like calling her so much." his eyes went wide and started being defensive saying it wasnt him, it was Ivan lim bleah, i dont really care. and then later abt 10minutes he added, that he was hurt by what i said and said that he will cover up once for me and wont call my parents down. i was like, ROLL EYES, did anyone thought i was hurt too? i was really heated up, more like he's afraid that i would check out all my mc days and that he didnt recorded it down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that should teach me to note things down such as which days i took mcs.&lt;br /&gt;im feeling really screwed up right now. i know its all my fault, i blamed no one but myself. i asked for it what. fuck it. i'm losing faith in everything. i'm totally losing myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UGH!!!!!!!! i wanna fire up. i need to vent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;to do list:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) gp proj&lt;br /&gt;2) chinese work, first two pages.&lt;br /&gt;3) email sch counselling, &lt;a href="mailto:bcos_icare@hotmail.com"&gt;bcos_icare@hotmail.com&lt;/a&gt; (need listening ear. HAHAHAHA need to utilize the sch's, if not they seem to be empty)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;never been like that before. im truly a bad kid. i guess..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112480647653570115?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112480647653570115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112480647653570115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/what-you-said-pretty-much-wounded-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112472523624442975</id><published>2005-08-22T23:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-22T23:40:36.253+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i did all my files. i did one slide for gp presentation. i flipped mgt text.&lt;br /&gt;i think im proud of myself. AHAHHAHA, small steps to big dreams lah dearies! :)&lt;br /&gt;now sleep. OMG, so late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GO GO GO GO GO!!! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112472523624442975?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112472523624442975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112472523624442975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-did-all-my-files.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112469432216281044</id><published>2005-08-22T14:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-22T15:05:46.210+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>-grumbles. right now its gp lesson. we have do our gp project presentation but apparently my group have not done any single slides at all!! now we're just praying that chanmalichan takes his own sweet time in checking files. damn, he called my mom again. i swear he's like having an affair with my mom big time. he kept telling me that he has been in contact with my mom closely. roll eyes, seriously i have no idea what is he trying to prove? trying to prove as if he is able to call parents and change the child? im sorry, its not gonna happened. i wont change under mom's or his influence, only under mine. i'm really pissed at him for the whole day, was cursing him all the way during lunch period. it is totally IUDSDJKBSADIUASDIUGZ@&amp;#(@*#. argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no one would understand my plight right now, its very demoralising. argh, oh no. i have this feeling that he's done going through the files. oh man. liyi is being annoying, poking her head looking at my entry. most of us are either going through friendster profiles, blogging or read blogs. that's right, that's &lt;strong&gt;05A2&lt;/strong&gt; for you. we're major slackers. there's no nerd in our class, ok, our only nerd in class has been promoted cos she knows how to sign out early. HAHAHAHAH, we totally went like, EHHH you know how 2 sign outt? lol. i know, its kinda mean but now we're like nerd-freeeee! yawns, i was quite attentive in lessons today, except for the HT period, i slept through the presentation of this geeky teacher presenting Entreneurship Society. roll eyes, like WHO CARES?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh no, ok. i think chanmalichan is done through the files. ok now i must go blog surfing. uh, blog again? oh man, suddenly i remembered my to-do list (THE PREV. ENTRY). but but i will be back. hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, things to do today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1) get ready geog file&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2) mgt file&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3) gp file&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4) study mgt (people's organisation)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, that's all. i need to do these.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112469432216281044?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112469432216281044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112469432216281044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/grumbles.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112463629227783319</id><published>2005-08-21T22:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-21T22:58:12.373+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It feels like i havent accomplished anything in such a long time. Was watching the national day rally by Pm Lee Hsien Long. I watched it halfway, the malay part. Dont know why, dont ask me why. But he said something that strucked me with motivation to study. It seem like my future's damn bleak right now. I cant see anything. I need to start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;To-do list&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Stop getting online. (Im sorry peeps, bejeweled only weekends)&lt;br /&gt;2) Get home straight after sch.&lt;br /&gt;3) Revise textbooks&lt;br /&gt;4) Complete homeworks&lt;br /&gt;5) Look out for tys for Geog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can do it.&lt;br /&gt;With effect from 22/08/05.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe online for 1 hr. Update blog. LOL&lt;br /&gt;Im sucha sucker. but oh well. yeah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112463629227783319?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112463629227783319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112463629227783319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/it-feels-like-i-havent-accomplished.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112462580894168536</id><published>2005-08-21T20:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-21T20:03:28.970+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1153.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:2px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1153.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;omg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112462580894168536?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112462580894168536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112462580894168536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/omg.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112445819994242254</id><published>2005-08-19T21:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-19T21:29:59.950+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This morning/afternoon was hell for me. I sank into like 89634279843287423th of depression. I guess it must be the sign of the coming red bloody must-waste-money-on-pad season again. Everything was so far away from me. I felt like i wasnt me at all. Argh, i dont want to go back to that 89634279843287423th. On a lighter note, i was a lil happy thinking about happy thoughts again. I kept thinking about the funny incidents between Maine and me. Okay this is one of them :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was over at her house and we're finished eating our lunch. (BIG POT OF MEE GORENG) And we both have the sudden urge to rush to the toilet and shit. But unfortunately I was first, hehe, so she was there sulking and suddenly she didnt feel like shitting. She went on to collect the dry clothes while i was shitting..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: *groans as forcing out you-know-what. *with constipated face.&lt;br /&gt;Maine: &lt;em&gt;Eh baby, you know that my mom...&lt;/em&gt; *giggles at the constipated look.&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;em&gt;Yeah.. &lt;/em&gt;*turning green, still pushing.&lt;br /&gt;Maine: &lt;em&gt;You're so sick. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: &lt;em&gt;hehe. &lt;/em&gt;*sounds of the droppings..&lt;br /&gt;Maine: ROLL EYES.&lt;br /&gt;Me:&lt;em&gt; HEHEHEE...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:&lt;em&gt; -&lt;/em&gt;LETS OUT A LONG SHARP FART..&lt;br /&gt;Maine: -PINCHES HER NOSE. &lt;em&gt;KANINA, FUCKING CHAO LEH CHEEBYE&lt;/em&gt;. -runs away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AHAHHAHAA, that's my girl for you. we love verbal abusing each other. we have habits of opening up ourselves, we dont do things closed doors hence the above convo. HAHA. im glad, cos we're so open about everything. I love that girl of mine. So sweet. I bet this aint honeymoon anymore, its like freaking coming 7th mth. (SOUNDS SO..EERIE). Girl will be getting her new computer this sunday. I bet she's going online to find butches every 5 minutes then sooner or later, the whole of singapore's butches is in her friendster. Damn. How secured can i get. HAHAH, maybe she can blog more......... instead of once a week. YAY!&lt;br /&gt;Okay, i just gotten back my Sims 2. I'm gonna drown myself on computated sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;oh yeah, i would like more lunch dates at the mobs. :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112445819994242254?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112445819994242254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112445819994242254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/this-morningafternoon-was-hell-for-me.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112437551195270866</id><published>2005-08-18T22:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-18T22:31:51.970+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>do you have to rake things up again and again? i'm lying if im telling you i wasnt tired. why am i lying? can you see i want to save this love that we have, so strong for so long? i want us to return back to how we were before. i know it all takes time, but that's not the excuse for you hurt me not once, not twice.. how long will this take? tell me, i'll take it like a man. i'm dying inside to get back to you, to the old us. stop saying you cant change you cant change. i dont know what else to say. i'm tearing and bleeding so much. i'm gonna take all this pain into one ball and plunge it at the end of the day (SOMEWHERE). i hate this, i hate nights. i hate the way we are feeling now. so much love and so much pressure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how much more can i take?&lt;br /&gt;dont drive me away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112437551195270866?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112437551195270866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112437551195270866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/do-you-have-to-rake-things-up-again.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112428817378190524</id><published>2005-08-17T22:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-17T22:16:13.936+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>today was a happy day, its rather rare. i have no idea why but this is what happened today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok i had school, met maine in the morning as usual, she perks me up every morning with her lil kisses and hugs. she's pretty insolent today. wonder what's with her, but ugh! sarah was once again running towards the bus and rolled her eyes when she saw me rolling mine especially i gotten really cheese off when the bus left AGAIN, but we managed to catch the bus again, and was able to reach sch in time for breakfast (I bought bread, it turn out to be banana with bread. YUCK.) yeah lessons, SRP then Gp..managed to keep awake.. you know something? i hate this detail thing. HAHAHAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought of carrie today. the whole two period of chinese and gp. it was pretty amusing. okay here it goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we were talking about this guy who brought her out for a date. ( HAHA)&lt;br /&gt;so..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: hey, so how's that guy who brought you out for a date? (SNIGGERS)&lt;br /&gt;carrie: alright lor, he's quite boring. afterall, Men want sex.&lt;br /&gt;me: yeah i know, unlike Women.&lt;br /&gt;carrie: no, Women also want sex.&lt;br /&gt;me: sia lah where got.&lt;br /&gt;carrie: got, there. -looks at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHAHAHHA. i dont know if its funny or anything but i think its damn hilarious please. i was like grinning to myself whilst listening to music (CLUBBING HITS) and my friend thought i was crazy. but i guess i was really happy, che was too. its that, god damn good feeling spirit. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so many ants crawling around. irritated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112428817378190524?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112428817378190524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112428817378190524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/today-was-happy-day-its-rather-rare.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112409373853763269</id><published>2005-08-15T16:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-15T16:34:15.740+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is just momentary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Based on Act 2 Sc 2:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do a short write up on the character you detest the most and why you find the characteristics unfavourable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. notion of scandal making and bearing&lt;br /&gt;2. topics discussed in rumour mongering&lt;br /&gt;3. adultery as fashion statement&lt;br /&gt;4. how characters who do not gossip are perceived&lt;br /&gt;5. sir peter's stand on rumour mongers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;With reference to Act 2 Sc 3:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comment on the presentation of the Surface brothers in retrospective to Oliver and Sir Peter.&lt;br /&gt;1. role of wealth&lt;br /&gt;2. good vs evil&lt;br /&gt;3. satire of money lenders (purpose of the jew?)&lt;br /&gt;4. what constitutes a good person? perception of Sir peter (societal) vs Oliver &amp; Rowley&lt;br /&gt;5. relationship vs wealth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Website reference:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bartleby.com/18/2/"&gt;http://www.bartleby.com/18/2/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Assignment to be typed in, send to Email as attachment and save in diskette tmr morning in school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOD DAMN IT CARRIE, I NEED THE BOOK.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112409373853763269?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112409373853763269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112409373853763269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/this-is-just-momentary.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112403520502842573</id><published>2005-08-14T23:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-15T00:00:05.040+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm like really proud of myself. i've completed both geog and biz essays! i made an effort. YAY! im gg to work towards my goal. i must not retain. - looks at aaronn. damn, im doing general blogging again. but ahhaa, whatever. i'm going to write a sweet love letter for baby. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i believed i deserved what you're giving me now, cos all these, i've caused them all. put the blame on me, call me stupid and blind, you're right. i was. but i'm awaken from all these ugly facades. i'm not taking any chances to let you down anymore. rebuild the strong faith we used to have. i need no one else, but you, darling. i'd gladly rip myself apart, to let you see what my heart's made of - you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;taking off&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112403520502842573?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112403520502842573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112403520502842573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/im-like-really-proud-of-myself.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112402742494694305</id><published>2005-08-14T21:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-14T21:51:52.193+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>put the past behind the start. step in the clutch, move up the gear, step on the accelerator and control the wheel. heat it up and get on the road, lets move together. this fiat spider is a two-seater. only you and me, no one else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i should kill myself right now for being smacked in face for doing the sweetest thing to the wrong person. you know what? i shld get back to work. working myself to get top 10 in class. shldnt be that hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;move lah julian.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112402742494694305?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112402742494694305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112402742494694305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/put-past-behind-start.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112390736847824567</id><published>2005-08-13T12:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-13T12:41:24.583+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>been sick enough. sneezing like mad, body aching like crazy. damn, what have i been up to. things have been looking up on the brighter side, i guess. :) gotten back my report book, its really fucked up. i cant believe chan-mali-chan totally wrote like i skipped sch and stuff like that, i think i can already see the look on my dad's face. OH DEAR. i've promised myself i'm gonna do work and study hard. but, sleep isnt enough. prolly i shld like persuade my mom to allow me to move in with nic. OH, nic, our dearest brudder is in hospital right now due to knee injury, not sure if she's warding, but news will be updated. HAHA, to fans of nic of course. HAHA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;been seeing Maine tons this week. but it is totally not enough. seriously. i need more of her. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH MAN. i need to be more cryptic already. i dont like general blogging. it makes me feel like LIKE I AM, MR-BIG-BREASTED-BUNG. AHAHAHA. ok. private joke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;if you wish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-edit 12:39pm&lt;br /&gt;just finishd reading someone's blog. I'M PROUD TO ANNOUNCE :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;MAINE HAS GOTTEN AN &lt;u&gt;A2&lt;/u&gt; for O's CHINESE!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112390736847824567?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112390736847824567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112390736847824567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/been-sick-enough.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112368512174516406</id><published>2005-08-10T22:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-10T23:49:01.996+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>why? after fighting so much, you decided to leave afterall? didnt you love me anymore? dont force yourself to say you dont. cos you DO love me. we will go thru this together, you said so yourself, why are u giving up right now? you said, that you wld nv be out of my sight. are you walking away now? i'm so numb, so fucking numb. i love you baby, i really do. so much, do u even know my heart's breaking? can you see it? it hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right, i was thinking about killing myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-edit 10:55pm&lt;br /&gt;now tears are blurring my vision. this is getting cooler every minute. lets see whats next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-edit 11:07pm&lt;br /&gt;so she aint coming back anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-edit 11:46pm&lt;br /&gt;Till death do us apart.&lt;br /&gt;She rescued me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112368512174516406?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112368512174516406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112368512174516406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/why-after-fighting-so-much-you-decided.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13846518.post-112360393796728565</id><published>2005-08-10T00:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-10T00:12:17.973+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>gotham last night. blasted throughout. had tons of fun! :) too bad for those who didnt go. now, contemplating abt 11 aug. -winks at aaronn. AHAHHA. im too lazy 2 blog. BYE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love maine. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13846518-112360393796728565?l=brokenconvictions.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112360393796728565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13846518/posts/default/112360393796728565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://brokenconvictions.blogspot.com/2005/08/gotham-last-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Julianne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03656343224457314458</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/20/6517/320/DSCN1320.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
