The European Game

Today Pill is coming to London.

And tomorrow most of my friends will be going back to Brunei, including my brother.

Okay. Euro Fever. I haven't talked about it, so here I go.

I fancied Portugal at the start, what with Cristiano Ronaldo in the form of his life, and the likes of Deco, Maniche, Ricardo Carvalho and Quaresma in the team, they had the best chance of winning this since, well, when they lost to Greece in that final in their own country.

But since Germany beat them and are now in the final against Spain, I'm backing the Germans. They've got composure, resilience, luck and ability. When compared other teams like Netherlands or Spain though, their way behind on paper. When you've got the error-prone but occasionally-brilliant Lehmann as goalkeeper, you never know what you're gonna get. Ballack is a match-winner, but against Turkey he was awful. Schweinsteiger, Podolski and Lahm are all capable of turning the game around. But ever since Deisler retired tragically early, the only true creative force in the midfield is Ballack. Frings is amazing at defensive mid.

Spain. Well. It's the curse, ain't it. On paper they look like the best team in the championship. I mean, if you can afford to put Cesc Fucking Fabregas on the bench, then you've got one hell of a team. Torres, Villa, Xavi, Xabi Alonso, Iniesta, Sergio Ramos, Casillas, these are world-class players. Xavi, one of my favourite players, is one of the few (probably the only) players I've never ever seen give the ball away, ever. Casillas has the reflexes of a panther taking steroids and overdosed on caffeine. They're truly amazing players. But like Netherlands, they can't really seem to win anything.

So that's Germany to win the final.

Signing out

Over and out

A Shirt On The Wall

~Hakuna Matata
What a wonderful phrase~

Fatin linked me to the Hakunas blog :)

It's a netball team, by the way. A very good one, I might add. Me and Zizi were the only two guys in the team, so I was quite pleased with myself for making the grade into this illustrious sporting club :P

I was surprised last year when they sent the Hakuna shirt to me through Zizi while I was in UK. Quite touched really, because I wasn't as integral to the team as the others, that probably stemming from the fact I'm not actually allowed to play in any tournaments because they aren't mixed. Damn you, tournament organisers.

By the way, the shirt is the one in the photo above. I hung it on my wall because it's too tight for me to wear it all the time :P Maybe in games. Haha.

I can't even decide what my best position is. My two best positions must have been GA and WD. And damn, netball is fast. It doesn't look it when you're on the sides with all the fouls and stoppages, but when you're on the court, it's pure adrenaline, baby. Hahaha. I played Centre a few times, and it was so fucking tiring.

People say netball is not aggresive, but it is. It's just that, the aggression is turned to precision, speed and control. That's why most guys find it hard to begin with. The 'no-contact' rule intimidates them. So when they find themselves unable to control who their bodies barge into, then they blame the game for not being aggressive enough. For being too 'girly.'

Netball is very similar to Ultimate Frisbee in that sense. In fact, Ultimate originated partly from netball. So I guess playing both regularly kinda helped both causes.

These girls are the 'playing' members of Hakuna Matata :)


Thanks for letting me feel like a girl. Hahaha.

Signing out

Over and out

Twins In The Tropics

Last night was incredible. If you're remotely interested in football at all, then you would've known that United won the Champions League final against Chelsea.

It's really a different experience when you're watching the final with real Mancunians and Londoners. Of course in Brunei the passion is still there. But when you support Manchester United and you're from Manchester, there's that enhanced feeling of local pride and passion. That showed last night. I'm a United fan, but I don't really show it. I'd rather admit I am an Inter fan, which I am. And I would be chuffed if Lampard decided to go to Inter.

Anyways, we found this amusing bit in Milton's 'Paradise Lost,':

'The Spartan twins / Up the tropic Crab'

It's priceless.

Signing out

Over and out

The Shrewsbury Shoe

The couple in question:


There's something wrong with Blogger. Mine at least. The posting time is several hours behind. Which is kinda annoying. I'm not sure how to fix it. Someone tell me. Please.

Anyways, yesterday we, in a (almost) vain attempt to surprise Adri, got surprised ourselves. Here's the lowdown. Okay. We were supposed to meat at the bazaar near Starbucks, and me and Farah was supposed to sneak up on Adri, but we couldn't find where they were. Being the stealthy sneaking sneaks we are, we tried to find him amidst all the people and the tents.

Thinking he was in Starbucks, we sneaked towards the overpriced coffee haven. But here's the funny part. Adri and the others were sitting on a bench watching us sneaking to Starbucks. All the way. So we ended up being surprised by them.

The meal at Pizza Express was good. The Padano pizza was amazing. I don't usually like onions, but the onions on the pizza were... Haha. It was sweet, and went really well with the goat's cheese. I do love goat's cheese.

Then we went to the Quarry for the Shrewsbury Regatta. Seriously, there must've been hundreds of boats there. We watched the Second VIII cruise this one boat by a few lengths. And I don't mean to brag, but our school is absolutely amazing at rowing. Our 1st and 2nd VIII both won their categories in the nationals (yes, all of England). Our 2nd VIII is better than many 1st VIIIs from other schools.

And oh, the 1st VIII beat Queen College, Oxford yesterday, I think. I'm pretty sure thst's worth mentioning.

The Bruneian Shrewsbury Posse very much getting into the action at the Shrewsbury Regatta:


Signing out

Over and out

A Population Of Unnoticed Solace

It's the last day of term, but really, there's almost no one left in the house. So in fact, the actual last day of term was indeed yesterday. That was when 80% of the school population buggered off. Not to mention another 5% leaving before that. So the remaining 15% are left to rot and die until saved by the sweet coming of Thursday.

So yesterday was alright. It was the Assassins final, which was an 8-man match. It's quite complicated how it works. Well, not really. I just can't be bothered to jot down the details here. Haha. And guess who won?

It's the same guy who knocked me out in the 2nd day, or the 1st round after the preliminary. It's Paddy fucking Thornycroft. No, I don't really have anything against him. He's a good lad. And I guess it's some kind of a consolation that I was knocked out by the eventual champion, not some beef obscure guy who nobody knows.

It's Thursday. It's the day I see Pill :D It's the beginning of a whole Easter holiday with Pill :D

Signing out

Over and out

Blame Everyone For The Unsaid Disaster

It's been a good, relaxing weekend. Of course that weekend has not taken into account of the fact that I'm on monitor duty tonight, which is the second crappiest thing to do at 9.30 at night, the first being kicking a bunch of bricks barefooted.

So how was the weekend?

As always, on Saturday, I only had one lesson, and Woodling is such a funny little character. Try closing your ears and just watch him. He is the single funniest moving thing you could ever observe that is unintentionally ridiculously hilarious. If you're lucky, he could be trying to emphasise a point by raising three of his limbs into the air. Yes, two arms and a right feet, It's much funnier than it sounds here. I promise you, it is as much a distraction from Chemistry as his red herrings involving tennis and jet engines.

Then that night, we went to Ridgemount's house dance, or Sci-Fi Convention. Kamillin invited me, by the way. Thanks for that. James Lyons is a great DJ, but I'm not sure why that night his tracks kept scratching and skipping. I'm not even talking turntables scratching. I mean the fucked up kind. I enjoyed myself though. But it took a while because all I kept thinking all night was that I would've enjoyed it oh so much more if Pill was there. I enjoyed Severn Hill's house dance more even though it wasn't very good simply because Pill was there. So that made it infinitely better.

I came as Neo by the way, from The Matrix. Quite easy to go as really. Never mind that there were two more Neos and an Agent Smith around.

Today, as usual, we had the weekly Shrewsbury Bruneian Posse Brunch. Haha. Ha. It just so happened that there was Easter Sunday chapel and the Eton Fives national championship, meaning more fresh food, meaning fresh hash browns. Which in turn meant a full plate for me.

We decided to play basketball after that, only to be greeted by the sight of Ingrams running into the gym with footballs and rugby balls. Of course we reached a compromise and played against them in football.

Ah. Good times.

I fucking missed Tea. I'm starting. If I wasn't vegetarian, I could eat a horse. Haha. Not that there are any horses around.

EDIT:

But then I decided to ask Mubin for a couple of Indo Mee. Couple that with some orange juice, and you've got a simple recipe for a somewhat filling yet strangely unsatisfying dinner.

The most interesting that happened today was the Assassins duel between Geo and Leo. Geo represented Severn Hill, and Leo, Oldham's. We agreed to meet Oldham's in front of KH, where there's that pathway to the other side, near the Bursary.

The rule was that there will be 30 seconds for both duelist to run away, but there is a designated area that they cannot go outside of. After thirty seconds, the shooting starts.

There was no contest. Geo had a normal water gun. Leo had a fire extinguisher, which meant he had an obscene range, and he could go on spraying without losing pressure. Geo lost after what was maybe a couple of minutes. Too bad.

Signing out

Over and out

Believing In A Two-Thirds Possibility

Assassins. Day Three.

One of the favourites for the tournament, Johnny Shaw, got knocked out by Severn Hill's very own George Rae. Of course it took quite meticulous planning.

The window at the end of the Upper Sixth corridor in the house had to be covered so that Johnny wouldn't be able to see through into the house. And in this case, we knew the best plan of attack would be defence. Battling it out in the outdoors would be suicidal against Johnny. He had full combats, and could sneak behind you like a mouse.

So Geo decided to wait around the corner at the end of the corridor, near his room. It was the best course of action to lure Johnny into Severn Hill. The motion sensor for the lights in the toilet had to be covered so that Geo could camp in there without giving out light. To bait Johnny into the house, Geo left a window open in the bike room. And he took the bait. All Geo had to do was wait.

He waited for about 2 and a half hours before Johnny came sneaking into the house. As Johnny was sneaking to Lowco's room opposite the toilet, Geo squirted his face.

Tom Allen got knocked out by Jimmy Taylor from Rigg's. Clive got knocked out by Welshie in a duel at the dump because they went over the time limit. Hairy has yet to fuel with Sam Tay from Ridgemount.

Away from Assassins, today has been quite relaxing. Because it's Field Day, the Upper Sixth has no lessons. Instead we have to work on our own.

Yoi.

I did fuck all today. I did clear up the things under my bed, but that's it. We had a buffet lunch at Pizza Hut. Of course being the greedy schoolboys we are, we piled our plates with a ridiculous amount of food. I had about 10 pieces of pizza, and 2 plates of pasta, which isn't even close to being the most. In Severn Hill, Pete ate 14 pieces. One guy from another house - Patrick Lapage, I think it was - ate 22 pieces by the time we left, and was still going for more.

Fuck damn it, I didn't feel well. My stomach wasn't happy at all. But it was a good laugh. Alan Lau had ice cream with Tabasco sauce. Of course that isn't too weird since Pill has Peri Peri sauce on her yoghurt. Haha.

Shit. Nelly is playing on my iTunes. Change it, quick.

Ah. Gorillaz. That's better.

~The digital won't let me go~

Which song is that from? Right answer gets a cookie. Quick. Offer ends after I finish this sentence. Oh, shit. You missed it. Oh well. Next time, then.

I'll miss this place. Five more weeks, and I'll have no more lessons here. It's been an amazing one and a half years here, in Shrewsbury School. I enjoyed myself here, and I'm still enjoying it. The ethos of the school fits me. It's such a carefree school, and yet it's academically excellent. Other things like sports and debating, we usually dominate. I guess it's my kind of school.

Maximum yield with least amount of effort.

The Salopian way, they say.

It's amazing how much it is a 'students' school. You get the real sense of community in the school, and with the other houses, there's that refreshing friendly rivalry in everything from football to debating to music to even organising house dances. The closure that things like doing house plays brings is amazing.

And even though it's quite an expensive school to get into, there's no snobbery at all. A lot of them are quite down to earth. You won't know by looking at a person that his father owns three mansions and is a millionaire. I guess a show of wealth is really just asking to be ridiculed. You'll get a lot of stick if you came in wearing a flashy suit and being driven in a Rolls Royce.

We're not posh. Rich, maybe, some of us. Not posh.

And we play harder than we work. House dances, Assassins, football. And oh, the occassional rule-breaking. None too serious. But we live a little.

We have massive food fights.

We have massive water fights.

We have massive snow fights.

There's even a WWBrook thing going on. A kind of wrestling tournament.

But like everything here, the controlled violence never goes over the top.

It's funny, one of Pill's teachers said that Shrewsbury students aren't really known to be perfect gentlemen. I guess it's partly true. We let ourselves go a lot more than other schools like ours. And we are who we are because of that.

I'll miss this school.

Signing out

Over and out

Assasinations From A Theatre: Part Two

So...

I'm annoyed. I got eliminated out of the most unfortunate circumstances. Unlucky. We were going for Josh Hurcomb from Ingram's this morning, which is Clive's target, and we saw this guy in a trench coat and white hoody coming out of the sides going to the Ashton Theatre. Pete said it was Josh, so going in as a team, I went to him first as a diversion, as a shield. Clive's cover, if you like. But it turned out to be Paddy, my target. So I got squirted out of Assassins after two and a half hours in the cold, windy outdoors.

But then later, we did get Josh Hurcomb. The back door was locked even though we knew the code, so we tried to look for another way in. It turned out the changing room door was open, so we got in through there. Creeping in quietly to Hurcomb's room, we went in slowly and switched on the lights, but he wasn't there in his bedsit. He changed places with his brother.

So of course that meant Josh is in his brother's bedsit. Now this was a real team effort. We found out where his bedsit was, and when we tried to open it, it was wedged in. It took quite a while and some effort before it opened. Josh was behind the door, panicking and shooting blindly. Geo kept the door open with his feet. Tom got in. I, again, acted as a shield. Then when Josh found out he wasn't squirting Clive, he popped his head through the door, and got squirted in the face by Clive. Mission accomplished.

Now I'm fucking tired. I only had four hours sleep last night, and I only have one PR today because they decided to move Thursday lessons to Wednesday.

Next round, probably tomorrow. I'm going to help out my housemates with this one. It was fun going out as a group. Team Hill, as Geo called it. Still four people from Severn Hill left in the top 32. That's a decent number of people.

Signing out

Over and out

Assassinations From A Theatre

Target:Paddy Thornycroft (Oldham's) Status:Lost

I've been eliminated out of Assassins. At around 7am this morning I was assassinated just at the entrance of the Ashton Theatre, under unfortunate circumstances. More of that soon.

Severn Hill went out as a team of 6: me, Geo,Clive, Hairy, Tom and Pete. Geo woke everyone up at 4.20am, and we were out of the house by 4.40am via the window in the changing room. It was cold. The wind was exceptionally strong.

The night before, I did not have much sleep. My make-shift door alarm kept going off because the wind kept pushing the door open. I found myself clutching the water gun when I woke up. It was hot inside my room, but I couldn't keep the windows open because there was a storm.

The game started at 5am. We were outside Rigg's, waiting for Josh Williams, Pete's target. It took around 15 minutes before we saw them come out of the house. Chaos ensued. Using a clever diversion, Josh got Pete.

We met and joined forces with other houses at stages, but ultimately we were our own team. Geo got Georgei in School House while he was sleeping. Hairy got Ed Shone in Churchill's. Fudge got Santi in School House. Clive got Josh Hurcomb in Ingram's.

As predicted, breakfast was an absolute ruckus. Shaw camped on the roof of KH with a sleeping bag for two hours. There were several duels going in KH at the same time. It was possibly the wettest breakfast in a long time.

There are still some duels going on. This will last till 5pm. This is Assassins.

Signing out

Over and out

Assassinations From A Cup

Target: Rich Wang (Churchill's) Status:Eliminated
Time of Death:Between 0730-0800, 11/03/08 Weapon Used:Orange Juice

The Assassins tournament has started. It's that season again, when all the upper sixth get silly by lobbing glasses of water and shooting with water guns all around the school site.

I was drawn against Rich Wang in the first round. Not that I had any idea who it was when I found out. But my housemates pointed out who it was, and I was already trying to figure out a plan to assassinate him, before he assassinates me.

The first round started at 0000 hours, and will end at 1500 hours today. I have eliminated my target. So has a few people. Some even stayed up till the early hours of the morning to sneak in and assassinate their own targets. The people who stayed in their rooms barricaded their doors, or exchanged beds with other people. I kept a water gun on the side of the bed, and installed a make-shift alarm on my door that consisted of simply a chair, a rubbish bin, and a trolley bag.

The night went well. No attacks. I slept well. But Sam Waterworth who's a housemate of mine, got assassinated by Welshie, a guy from Ridgemount. This morning in breakfast, Peter Stewart assassinated Nick Carling in KH with a bottle of water.

Mine was next. I was looking at Churchill's way all the way through breakfast. Rich Wang had not come yet. But when he came, he saw me too. He had a bottle of water in his hand. So did I. But it was a delicate situation. Going in for the kill would almost be suicide. It's easier when you're chased but you're aware of it. So it had to be timed perfectly. And I timed mine brilliantly.

There were two tables inbetween us. They were empty. But then some Oldham's lower sixths filled in one of the tables, and he lost concentration for a bit. In that twenty-second window, I sneaked towards him, with a glass of orange juice in my left hand and a bottle of water in my right. The plan of attack was to use the orange juice as a diversion, as a fake attack, and then when he is trying to avoid the orange juice I would squirt him with the bottle of water.

But he didn't notice I was coming at all. So it was unnecessary of me to use the orange juice. But I forgot. So I spilled the orange juice all over his jacket, and walked back to the table. Mission accomplished. He was not happy.

Next round starts in a few hours. Most probably some time tomorrow.

Signing out

Over and out

Half Of This Was Away With Half Of Me

So how was your half-term?

Shut up. I don't want to hear about it. Instead you're gonna hear about mine.

For both weekends, I stayed in Oxford, and spent most of my time there with my pill. Which was brilliant. I enjoyed myself so much with her. I can't wait for her to come to our house dance :D

The rest of it was alright. The weekdays were spent in sunny London. Yes, I'm not actually being sarcastic here. London was indeed sunny. Sunshine and sunny rays. Sweeties and sugar days. Spent the day before Valentine's playing football with the lads. Heh. That was actually really quite fun. Of course playing for four straight hours gave me a really bad headache and a really sleepy head that felt as heavy as an anvil strapped to a cow. With three fat (sorry, I meant clinically obese) Americans on its back shouting "Yippe-Kay-Yay."

Of course when I was about to have a pre-sleep lunch, one of the cleaner ladies told me my brother was in the hospital, and out of obligation I had to stagger my way to St. Mary's hospital. Feeling probably worse than my brother, who was actually on the hospital bed having a nice little nap, I had to sit there for a couple of hours doing nothing, waiting for the doctors to actually find out what the hell was happening with him.

Almost dead, I excused myself for a few hours, saying I haven't eaten anything but dirt from playing football, which was actually true (Well...). It was an hour before I came back to the hospital, with Churn, Faiz and Deebs. If it wasn't for Deebs, I would've injected myself with morphine out of boredom, though I'm not sure how that would help. Then there was this curious guy who kept talking to me about football because I was wearing an Italian football jacket.

"Waff wafff Italy waff waff wishy waff World Cup 2012 waff England" was all I heard at first. Of course I didn't have the heart (or the balls) to tell him he was wrong, that there won't be a World Cup in 2012 (it's in 2010 and 2014) or that it wasn't in England. Then I pretended to understand what he was saying, and I managed to get away with it.

"Waff waff boosh waff Italy win waff Cup waff England not winning waff waff south african team maybe waff waff" he said. So I replied:

"Ah yes, but I think the Italian team is way too old, and some of them might have retired by then." To which he grumbled and mumbled out of grudge because I actually knew a thing or two about the Italian team.

Did virtually fuck-all for Valentine's. I did plan something for the pill, but by that stage it wasn't my job, it was the girls from Headington's job. I just giggled in the corner of the lobby wondering how well it's going, proud for having thought of such a plan.

I can't wait for March 1st.

Signing out

Over and out

The Exaggeration Of Underachievement

Okay, I have achieved something monumentally great, it deserves a statue of epic proportions, an allegory so unsubtle that future generations will immediately understand the epic scale of my achievement.

I have written a 3,000-word essay, last minute, in what was essentially less than three hours. And I've managed to get a B (rather than a D+, like on my last one), which is the highest in the set (surprisingly).

Obviously it's not an A, but it's still rather pleasing.

Sure, I exaggerated in the first paragraph of this blog, but you could not imagine how much I was grinning on the inside when I was looking at the essay after being given it back. And my introduction was read out loud as being one of the best.

Ah, yes. The small things in life. I almost gave up on this coursework. I thought I could never get a B, never mind an A. And yet, in the first draft, I managed to get a B from the harshest (yet fair) marker I've known in my entire life. I reckon with a little more work, I could get an A in this easily.

Good day today. Played Squash with my housemates. Though I lost 10 out of 12 games, I still had fun. Some of the shots I made were absolutely amazing. Clive and Lowco, who both beat me 4-0, even admitted it. My two wins were against Fudge, and he wasn't terribly good. We drew 2-2.

I should go out and play sports more. Hahaha. Lose a little bit of my tummy. What will Pill say about that? :P

Meeting my pill soon.

Signing out

Over and out

The Mighty Warlord Wants To Speak With You

It's end of term, which means the troublesome end-of-term packing is in order. And this of course involves the messy ordeal of trying to cram everything under the bed and make as though not a soul is living in your room. As fun as this sounds (haha), I had to take a rest, and get some thoughts onto my blog.

I've got a new neighbour, and to welcome him, I've put my music on very, very, very loudly. And I'm planning to do this until late. He is none other than the infamous Alan Lau, who had come up with the brilliant question of 'how would you feel if you wake up with only one testicle?' in the middle of our mock European conference. He has also enlightened us with facts like most Australians are Germans, Brunei don't have running water, and charity is evil.

From one genius, to another in the form of George W. Bush. I find his pearls of wisdom too enticing and enlightening. Here are some that I hope you'd find incredibly inspiring:

"You know, one of the hardest part of my job is to connect Iraq to the war on terror"

"I can only speak to myself"

"It's in our country's interests to find those who would do harm to us and get them out of harm's way"

I've got a poster on my wall quoting more from - as Borat calls him - the Mighty Warlord. Never fails to brighten up my day.

Michaelmas term is almost over. I wanna get out of this place for four weeks. Oh wait, I am.

Signing out

Over and out

The Simplest Orchestra And Its Eleven Symphonies

I'm not happy. I'm not in the 1st House team. I had a great 1st Leagues game against Ingram's yesterday. I made a few absolutely amazing tackles. Most were when the opposition were just about to pull the trigger. I deserve to be in that team. Instea I'll be the linesman. And in 2nd House, like last year.

Oh well.

The game against Ingram's was a mixed one. We won convincingly, 4-2. But Munches got injured. two broken ribs and a punctured lung. I really hope he recovers soon. And the most gruesome thing was, because he was asthmaetic, the surgeons had to operate on him without any anaesthetics. How fucking painful does that sound?

Everyone at first wanted him to get back and play keeper for 1st House, but I don't think anyone is that selfish to not let him take his time to recover. He's not gonna be back for the term. We all feel bad for him.

Not a very interesting Sunday today.

Signing out

Over and out

The Sun Thought I Had Something To Do With It

I don't know why I'm having trouble uploading this year's house singing videos. It's a shame too. The singing is brilliant. I'll try again soon.

Anyways, life has been not too bad in Shrewsbury, but it's getting a bit too frosty at the moment. We've been reaching the minuses in terms of temperature for the past few mornings and nights. It's bloody fucking cold, and I've abandoned my flip-flops and three-quarters because it's fucking freezing. I need to buy gloves. Red gloves.

I'm going to Oxford tomorrow, right after breakfast. Risky move, since it's almost certainly flippin' chilly. And oh, for the past few days, the hot showers are - simply put - not hot at all. Imagine, coming back from a hard-fought match against the staff, the horror of having a cold shower. Fucking outrage, I tell you.

And oh, what a match we had against Ridgemount. We were 3-0 down at one stage, but we managed to win 6-5, yours truly scoring the final equaliser in the last ten minutes, minutes before our winner. Of course, Ridgemount were taking the piss, to be honest. And it didn't help that some of our players had already given up by the third goal.

I need to get out of here for a few days. Oh, wait. Tomorrow is coach weekend. Yippee.

Signing out

Over and out

From Conversations We Fall Again

It's the weeked. :D I love Fridays and Saturdays, when it comes to school. I only have a total of 5 5 out of a maximum of 12 lessons in the two days. It's awesome. I can lie in until 10am, take a quick shower, and go to lessons at 10.25am. I love the weekend.

We played 1st Leagues yesterday. It was my first full 1st Leagues match since Ramadhan. Usually I came off at half-time, because they knew I was fasting. Now I get to play the whole thing. Whooppi-doo. Even though we played well, we lost to Ridgemount 2-1, because of the fuck-all last-minute from-2-yards-out goal. Oh well.

The first week of school after half-term has been a great one so far. I'm really enjoying myself. And next week I'm turning 20. Oh jeez. Hahahahaha.

I am thinking of buying myself a watch for my birthday (yes, sounds kinda sad) after I lost my Swatch Irony during half-term. I'm upset about losing it, but I'm over it now. I really needed a new one anyway. I'm thinking something like a D&G or one of those weird binary watches. I don't know yet.

Oh jeez.

Signing out

Over and out

Balls & Bravery

I actually mean tennis balls when I said 'balls' in the title. And it's cause I was watching the French Open Men's final, and again Federer lost to Nadal. I'm not pleased at all. Federer was just making too many unforced errors, I felt like slapping him in the face and whacking his torso with his own tennis racket. Oh well, he'll dominate Wimbledon.

By the way, if you want some laughs, click on Collins's Night In. It's a video of one of the upper sixth being drunk, and it's well and truly funny.

I need something proper to do.

Signing out

Over and out

Volent & Virulent

I want to think I'm right. But I know I can't make any assumptions. All the assumptions I've made before had been wrong, and had been wrong so badly. So no, I'll try and restrain myself from making this one.

But I so want it to be true, it's unbelievable. It's almost unhealthy. It's really made my day today, even though I can never be sure if it's really true. I had a good time at brunch. I had a good time playing football on the new seven grand football turf for our house. It's so slippery we had to resort to psycho football, some branch of football that might have originated from what the gladiators of Rome used to play in their backyard.

Facts, fiction, truths, lies. And there's assumptions.

I can't stop thinking about it. It's making me unbelievably positive, it's almost certain it's going to break my heart. I can't let my hopes up. It's emotional suicide.

I'm confused.

Signing out

Over and out

Rooms & Revision

I'm here in my friend, Geo's room, while he's off doing the house duty thing, of which the experience is such a nightmare. Trying to get the third-formers to bed isn't exactly the easiest thing in the world.

Anyway, for people who has seen me play basketball, they'll know I'm well below average. So me getting into the house team sounds improbable, right? Turns out we're so short of basketball players, they needed me to play. Jeez. Apparently basketball isn't high on the school sports priority list.

With me in the team, you'd normally expect the team to be naturally crap. Well, crap enough to let me in the starting line-up, that is. But it turns out the other house teams are crappier than us. Actually the team consisted of two extremely good chinese players with a few other people to make up the numbers.

But hey, surprise, we got second place. Hahahahahahahahaha.

I'll leave that statement as it is, so you can ponder over how we managed it :P

Signing out

Over and out

Kicking Spheres, Winning Smiles

BruNotts was a blast. We didn't really consider our football team - ridiculously named the A-Team (no, not the theme song, please) - to have any chance at all going through the group stage. In four groups of six, we had Santos (two years champions) and Palmeiras (a really strong team) in the same group, Group B. There were also three other teams which all consisted of Uni people. So us consisting of entirely A Level students, we had odds stacked against us. People even said to us we were in the Group of Death.

First game in, We won with a convincing performance, scoring four goals against one. That settled a bit of nerves, but we knew we still have Santos, Palmeiras and two other teams we don't know about, all to play against. In the next match against Palmeiras, it was a pretty tense affair, and one which we lost 2-1, all three goals scored from the penalty spot, and after we took the lead in the first half.

That kinda brought us back down to Earth. We knew we had to win the next three matches to get through, because Palmeiras and Santos would almost surely win all their coming games.

And sure enough, we won the next two matches.

Our final group game was against Santos, one of the strongest teams in the tournament. Being the underdogs, we had some support from the audience. Even Palmeiras gave us some pointers before the match on how to deal with Santos's dangers and exposing their weaknesses. That was a massive help. They warned us that Santos would play rough and hard, and would try to intimidate us in an intense physical battle.

The match itself was quite tense. Santos were definitely very physical, aggressive and violent. Eric injured his hand when one of the Santos players blatantly shoved him against the wall. We were being tackled, tripped, pushed and shoved for most of the game, but we managed to play our game. When Eric got injured, I came on and subbed him. It was a good albeit short game for me, although I did also get shoved against the wall and bruised my elbow. But I just ignored it and played on. One player even elbowed me in the face. Of course, by the time I went on, we had already scored two goals courtesy of Dave and Hanif, both screamers from distance.

After the final whistle was blown, we were just elated. We managed to do something we thought was next to impossible before we even played a game. We were celebrating, jumping over each other, shaking hands, huddling, all that team stuff. We got through to the quarter-finals.

Disappointingly, we got knocked out by White Knights by conceding two soft goals after scoring the first goal. To my judgment we were better in the game. We could've got into the semi-finals, where we would've played against Senna, which were the finalists. Although Senna were technically superior to us, it would've been great to be in the semi-finals.

Anyway, we still have at least three years here, so BruNotts is still there for ours to get :P

Signing out

Over and out