15 Things to do on a Sunday Afternoon @ 8 Short

I wanted this to be a photo essay but in the end i was too lazy to take and transfer so many pictures and by the time i had the idea for this, half the events had already passed. Next week perhaps.

Anyway, for those of you interested and wondering what goes on on a lazy Sunday afternoon when most of you are back home or visiting family or friends, or even recovering from a night of being fugitives from the Zhi Char lady, here's a step by step look of how the lao jiaos of level 8 while away their typical weekend. Lets see if you can figure who is responsible for what action

1. Wake up at noon. Too lazy to go out and eat. Cook Noodles in Kitchen.
2. Clean up dishes from lunch and all the other dirty dishes piled up from the week that went by
3. Try to catch up on internet activities. Start cursing in chorus at the fact that all our favorite sites are down, facebook, soccernet, ifilm, etc
4. Catch up on 8 episodes of lost between lunch and dinner
5. Watch your level mate return from the luxury and comfort of home, while the other 4 of us have to vegetate in hall and settle for noodle lunches and dinners, and if thats not enough, watch him be welcomed by a bowl of freshly cooked pasta for his lunch.
6. Start to stir shit.
7. Investigate new Scandal.
8. After finding little relevant evidence, cool our heads by shooting super-soakers into block D windows.
9. Refill all the guns and re-stock the armory before heading back to the wing.
10. Do laundry, fold clothes, and other such gay housekeeping shit.
11. Watch your fellow wingmate fill up 11 bank applications and watch him small-time his way thru each one of them.
12. Then watch him get fed up and start playing retarded games like Wario on his Wii in a futile attempt to destress
13. Realise that the blog has been neglected, and seize the opportunity to make up for all the post-less days gone by.
14. Blog about night cycling and all the other subsequent events unfolding in the wing
15. Wait for potato to come back so we can suan him for some reason or the other, since the 5 of us are by now sick of each other's faces after spending an entire sunday together pretty much doing nothing.

CCB: "The Mystery" - Pasta-mania (1)

There are many mysteries going unnoticed on the grounds over your head. Strange water flying around, strange ladies appearing out of nowhere, strange noises heard at night, and strange images haunting the occupants. "The Mystery" aims to shed some light on these happenings, and perhaps offer some reconciliations for the events that should not have happened, but happened anyway.

Today "The Mystery" looks at the Mystery of The Appearing Pasta.

Names and events have been changed to protect the identities of the party involved.

James Chen is like any ordinary man. It was indeed like any other ordinary Sunday. But events that follow is anything but. Having spent the entire day doing something that shall not be revealed yet, James was hungry. Breakfast with family was good, but apparently not filling enough. What can 2 pieces of Yew Char Kuey do?

He contemplated cooking noodles, maybe add some eggs, or probably just cook corn soup. But he was out of bowls, 'cause you see, he haven't been washing the bowls he was using couple of days ago. Oh, that dirty bastard. Shockingly he contemplated just cooking with the dirty bowl, when out of the blue there was a gentle knock on his door.

What follows was series of blurry exchanges.

Lady: Hey *** somebody asked me to pass you this.
James: What the...? Who was it?

At this point the lady giggles, to the chagrin of the rest of the hungry souls of James' wing-mates

Lady: It was somebody called ***
James: Who is that? Who?
Lady: She's called ***. I don't know.
Lady: I don't know all the people living in the Block ok..
James: *bleep* *bleep* la, I need to go toilet..

Questions. Who was the person sending James this 'thing'? Why does he needs to go to toilet immediately after receiving the 'thing'? Is it some sort of a communication ritual all James' wing-mates doesn't know, or shouldn't know? Why was James shocked? Was he expecting something else? And what is this 'thing'?



Yes this 'thing' is the innocent yummy looking pasta. But it is anything but. Look at the way the prawn is placed. As if screaming "I'm lonely, I need you". And if you count, I'm sure you will, there are exactly 116 strands of pasta in that bowl. 11/6, November 6th, James' birthday. Coincidental? I don't think so. Most shockingly, there was NO notes given with the pasta. Usually, from experience, this kind of occurrence comes with notes. Love notes, hate notes, etc. But no notes. This can only mean that there is more to this than mere overdue Buaya Week goodie. Sure the pasta filled our poor James' stomach. But there are too many questions unanswered. And "The Mystery" will go to great lengths to uncover the truth.

At this moment James is quietly enjoying the pasta. The plot thickens with the receipt of an anonymous text message, and an anonymous telephone call... "The Mystery" returns with more uncovered details, details that James himself would die protecting.

CCB: "Days that shook the World" - Teaser

It has been two days since the D-Day. It was indeed an astronomical story to tell. Shocking discoveries about pirates, and stars, and perhaps one unholy destiny. Bigger, longer, and uncut, "Days that shook the World" will finally reveal, the man, and the lady, intertwined in a twisted story of love, betrayal, and with a twist that will leave everybody questioning the very foundation of belief.

Because CCB is under intense budget cuts, she was unable to send her investigating officers on a road trip on D-Day. But technology in a form of a Imaginary Imagination Imaging System, the events of the D-Day are constructed to fill the gaps left behind by the previous 2 episodes.

Stay tuned, and the "Days that shook the World" promises to offer more than mere shocks, it promises to awe.

8 Short @ Night Cycling

It was indeed romance on the road during Sheares Hall's starlit and full-moonlit night cycling expedition as 8 short was represented by 50% strength, 66% of which comprised of blossoming couples seizing the opportunity to take their love to astronomical heights. Here are but a few of the pictures from that stellar night, and as promised by my trusty neighbor who missed out on the action, there will surely be more exposing stories and photos to come!

8 short sets out

CTs storming the Botanical Gardens

A Glimpse of more damning evidence to come...

Die Another Day - The Videos

The visual account of thrilling encounter is now here. Thanks to Yen Bin's filming and Abhi's editing, you can now witness how the events unfolded FIRST HAND..

However, we strongly recommend you read the story below in the previous post, first, before watching the video, in order to maximise your experience

The video is split into two halves for uploading purposes

Segment 1:



Segment 2:

Die Another Day

October 21st 2007 (22 A.D.)
0100 hours

Counter-Terrorist (CT) Headquarters (C808)

CT Metalaway: Do you have the directives from command?
CT Sprecher: Yes i've just received instructions. The mission is as follows:
Target: Barack Obama, serial number 42
Mission: Extract and deliver target alive to Counter-Terrorist roof and execute Operation White Christmas
CT Metalaway: Affirmative.
(CT Metalaway purchases Milk, Flour and Kaya while in the buy zone)
(CT Sprecher Purchases 2 x Supersoaker Helix short range splash damage rifles)
(CT Mulder searches for third gun meanwhile - aka, no money to buy gun)

CT Sprecher: So does everyone know the plan? We surround the terrorist, bring him to the rooftop, and on his 22nd birthday we turn him white for a change.

CT Mulder: Roger That

CT Sprecher: Get into position and wait for my go
CT Metalaway: I'm in position
(CT Mulder decides to fill a pail to use as his weapon)

And thus the real life version of Counter-Strike was ready to unfold . It was supposed to be a simple extraction sortie. Probably the first operation you learn to execute during FIBUA training. Surround. Kill. That's it.

And everything was going according to plan. They surrounded the terrorist, he changed into shorts and a tshirt, left his valuable behind, and decided to co-operate and walk willingly towards the execution chamber.

With one minor detour. The three CT's closely following him, he stopped to pick up his shoe bag so that he could wear a more comfy pair of slippers. The bag unzipped. And that fateful harmless unzipping sound would probably haunt the CT's for the rest of their hall lives.

Have you seen those old mafia movies, where the mobsters always walk around carrying a violin case, and should anyone try anything funny, all it takes is a couple of buckles to be popped and out comes a tommy gun and all hell is let loose via the hands of our unassuming mafioso?

Well, little did our CT's know, that this little yellow shoebag was housing the very gun they were searching for prior to the encounter, the sniper rifle of all super soakers, that would turn out to be the bane of their existence for the next thirty minutes. Within a flash of a second, before the CT's realised what was happening, Terrorist Obama had flown down the flight of stairs, toting his rifle, taking potshots at the CT's who though having the higher ground, were still having trouble getting their aim on target while trying to regroup. And so the chase began. And it was supposed to be a simple 2-step extraction.

The terrorist had by now run down to level 7, the CT's hot on his heels, as they tore down the level 7 long wing, jumping over tables and other flotsam and jetsam strewn on the floor, down the far stair case, back through the level 6 long wing, and back down the main staircase. By this time, Obama had gained just enough ground to be out of visual contact with his pursuers, and took the opportunity to run out into the deserted level 5 short wing. But it wasn't as deserted as he had hoped. As he climbed over onto the roof of the block C linkway to get into his favorite camping spot, he was sighted by his buayee, who almost gave his position away, but manage to contain her natural urge to squeal once he played the birthday card. The fear was unwarranted however, as the CT's had run all the way down to level 4 and over to the lounge, block B, back to the rooftop, and then finally to the kitchen, all the time moving in formation, covering each other, strafing around each corner, in typical CS fashion, looking high and low for their target who had been so close but now yet so far, cursing and blaming one another for being so noob.

In the meanwhile, our misunderstood 'terrorist' used the time to reload his rifle with some nice ice cold water and after completing a quick scan of level 8, headed for the block B linkway to get a good vantage point of what was conspiring back in his 'home' block. But alas, as he took position between the vending machines and took sight of his enemies who were crawling about level 5, the lift across from him opened at block C level 5 and CT Mulder managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of him, and once again the chase was back on. This time Metalaway led the chase across from block C to B, but by then Obama was already at then end of the corridor at block A contemplating his next move.

At opposite ends of the longest stretch of hallway in Sheares, Metalaway and Obama were both frantically trying to determine the position of the other, while taking cover at their respective corners. They both stuck their heads out at the same time, sighted each other, and ducked back in, each wondering if the other had seen them, or seen them see the other. As exit strategies began to run through his mind, Obama began accepting that the end was near, he would be cornered soon, but he wouldnt go down without a fight. Not this day for sure.

Metalaway went back to get his reinforcements, and told them to storm the corridor while he would run around the long way and block the exit at block A, boxing in the resilient terrorist. As he made his way back, Mulder and Sprecher pressed ahead, regrouping at their end of the long corridor, ready to burst around the corner and chase after the unsuspecting prey. But this time, the prey would be ready. Knowing that his days were numbered, he had walked all the way back to the mouth of the corridor, ready to enter into a staring match with death, and make pretty damn sure death blinked first. The CT stormed the corridor, ready to make their final charge, only to find Mr. Obama standing right there in front of them, letting loose a barrage of water bursts straight into their faces as they walked right into his line of fire. With the CT's in disarray once again, Metalaway heard their cries and aborted his surround mission and ran to their aid, freeing up the exit as Obama began another run.

Now the CT's were pissed. This was getting too much. How many times would this one measly terrorist get the better of them. Where could he hide. Afghanistan is only so big. Or so the Americans thought.

But still pissed they were, and they ran after him with a vengeance. Sprecher grimacing. Metalaway snarling. Mulder panting. He was still lugging the pail around during all these chases. The wretched pesky terrorist just wouldn't stay still form him to cast his ultimate spell.

The chase continued down the former Gaza strip (which might i mention was the location planned by Metalaway for his previous 'box-in' strategy to take place), into the carpark, onto the road and up the slope. Anyone awake at that hour and watching must've thought that this was a scene out of the show U.S. Marshals, the sequel to The Fugitive, where we have one poor black dude running for his life like MoFo all across town with a whole bunch of white guys toting guns chasing after him. Talk about a lynch mob.

But another thing about the darker skinned folks is that they can run like mofos when their lives depend on it, especially when theyre barefoot. I can probably list a dozen historical, economical and socio-political reasons to prove that phenomenon but I shall refrain at the risk of sounding racist. Anyway, lets just say that our terrorist friend was by now up the slope heading towards the block E back gate while the CT's, weighed down by their armor and ammo were still at the barrier in the carpark. Suspecting that their target would try and climb his way back into hall, they drew on whatever strength they had left to bear him down before he crossed the border in his instinctive illegal immigrant style. The runner however took a detour and turned towards a clump of trees opposite the gate, hiding in the shadows, catching his breath, and waiting to watch and plan his next move.

CT Metalaway once again was the first one to reach the gate, and even though he had spotted the fugitive in the trees in the distance, he decided to act blur until reinforcements arrived so that they could flush him out. Once backup came, they put on act to show our camper that they thought he had climbed over, and began to pretend to climb over too, making their conversation nice and loud so that the enemy would defintely hear them. However, they took their acting a bit too far, and realizing that their voices were way over the natural decibel level, Obama began to smell a rat, and his mind began racing once again. It was just then that For one split second, all 3 CTs had their backs turned towards the gate as they faked their climb, and seeing that it was now or never Obama crashed through the foliage and let fly another round of his ammo before heading back around the corner to Sheares, catching his screaming victims off guard once again. The CTs, now raging mad, split up and took two routes to cut him off. One chased him along the road, while the others decided to take the lower ground and cut through the rag area. But being one step ahead, Obama veered off the road, lost his follower by hiding in another tree, and began shooting down the other party from his elevated position as they lumbered their way up.

Feeling might kicked about his exploits, our fugitive began what was to be his final run, as he stepped on a large piece of stone and injured the ball of his foot. Unable to put any more weight on his left leg, he was forced to slow down to a walk, and as Metalaway and Sprecher finally flanked him, he stopped. He raised his rifle one last time, and fired every last drop out of it at the two assailants as they struggled to restrain him and finally bring him down on the road in front of Sheares Hall. This amusing sight prompted a priceless comment from our cameraman: "I wish people were here to see 3 ex-JCRC members fighting on the road in front of Sheares Hall in the middle of the night."

Finally, with the target injured and subdued, Mulder finally was able to make use of the pail he was lugging the entire night and take consolation in merely drenching the enemy.

CCB: So, was Operation White Christmas a success?
Obama: I think i'll die another day. It's not my time to go.

CCB: "Days that shook the World" - P2

Previously on "Days that shook the World", one man's quest, "Oh, I dun mind actually..", one lady's agony, "Er... haha", and the world's burning question, "Who is the lady?" We call experts to help us piece together the story leading to the shocking event and fill those damning gaps in today's "Days that shook the World".

Following previous episode we found out that Mr. P did indeed asked the lady to be his partner for nite-cycling. But recent revelations showed that he has more in his mind than mere tandem-ing. What was his "intentions"? This and many more questions, right here, right now.

The following events and names have been changed slightly to protect the identities of parties involved.

The following partial excerpt of the MSN conversation is NOT a dramatised reconstruction, it is extracted from the actual transcript, as Mr. P himself would attest to. We shall now look at the conversation more closely.

After having established that the lady was indeed in her room, Mr. P proceeded with his "intentions". What were his "intentions"? Only he knew.

P:just wondering.. so wat *tut* said is true ah? u wanna ask me for nite cycling is it?
The lady did not reply for a long time. Unknown to Mr. P, she was panicking. She was always a SHY lady, how would she respond to this kind of question? Not only that, it was clear that Mr. P had structured his question such that the lady had difficulty refusing. Such techniques are common for predators. We ask Mr. John Oliver, an expert from The Imaginary Criminology Department. He answers, "Looking at his sentence structure, starting with 'just wondering' he clearly caught the lady off-guard. By posing an 'is it true?' question, followed by YOU WANNA ASK ME FOR NITE-CYCLING?, he then leaves the lady with little choice but accepting. This is a classical long-lost technique called INSTEAD I ASKING HER, WHY NOT ASK HER ASK ME technique, usually only used by high level predators".

Lady: hey sorry! was running ard the blk jus now.. ahaha.. why? u wana ask me ah?
P: haha... dun mind...
The lady, sensing the danger, probably her feminine instincts giving her warning signals, tried to negate Mr. P's question by cleverly deflecting the question away. She was hoping that Mr. P would take the hint, and ASK her properly like a gentleman. But his predatory instincts was strong. This man, Mr. P is a cold, calculative crocodile. Mr. John Oliver agrees that Mr. P's response was a stroke of genius. By HAHA-ing, and DUN MIND-ing he inadvertently assumes that the lady would say yes, and that he wouldn't have to actually put his intentions to ask the lady's permissions to have her as his partner for nite-cyling in an actual physical sentence.

Lady: ok. i can go with u! hahaa
To the untrained eyes, the lady seemed to have agreed to go tandem-ing with Mr. P, despite the fact that Mr. P had never made a FORMAL request or invitation. But according to our expert, Ms. Samantha Bee, from The Imaginary Department of Psychology of the National Health Centre, the sentence above is anything but. "By punctuating an affirmative sentence with the famous H-A-H-A-A code, she was actually saying NO, NO, NO, NO, NOOOOOO". But Mr. P already assumes that she said yes, and thus there is nothing the lady can do.

P: nvm... if *tut-tut* ask u then it's ok..
P: it's up to u..
Mr. P then made his final move by acting seemingly innocent. Knowing that the lady is actively asking some other people to go with her, he coyly allows the lady choice. This, according to Mr. Jack Black from The Imaginary Anti-Predator Council, is the all-famous IF YOU DARE TO GO WITH OTHER PPL I WILL CRY LIKE A BABY move. A technique that will irresistibly make the lady ASK HIM to go tandem-ing, as if she was the one with the "intentions" instead of Mr. P himself.

Lady: hey so how? ride with u? confirm!?
Lady: ???
P: alrite then
And surely enough, the lady HAD TO ASK, instead of the other way around. And she said YES, even as she was screaming NO. Mr. P had sealed the deal, like a true blue predator.

So there you go, from Mr. P's seemingly innocent question at the start, he had use the sacred MSN to poach for a nite-cycling partner. That too BEHIND HIS FELLOW WING MATES. And most shockingly, he coyly admitted of having the lady asked him, when in actual fact it was him with the "intentions". In the end, the main premises of "Days that shook the World" part 1 stand. That Mr. P firstly assumes that the lady WANTS to go tandem-ing with him. That he secondly did not ask the lady in PROPER manner, but OVER MSN. That he thirdly did this behind his wing mates, and then coyly disclosed that he already had a partner for nite-cycling because A GIRL ASKED HIM.

But most importantly, as we mentioned in the first few lines of today's episode, what were his "intentions"? Could it be that he has FEELINGS for this lady? Could it be that he is a predatory crocodile, wanting to get this nite-cycling opportunity to GET HITCHED? Could he be harbouring FORBIDDEN LOVE for this lady? WOULD THE LADY ACCEPT HIM? Ah, intentions, intentions and more intentions, all will be revealed in the third, and the concluding part of "Days that shook the World".

"Never shit in you own backyard"

There's so much shit going around, is clearing them considered "sai kang"?

So guess it's time to start to clear some of it. Firstly, I quote, 'This is a dramatised reconstruction of true events.' The actual event itself is of course much watered down and boring.

Here are parts of the conversation:

P: u there?
Lady: yo!
Lady: im here now!
P:just wondering.. so wat lawrence said is true ah? u wanna ask me for nite cycling is it?
(Lady didn't reply for a long time)
Lady: hey sorry! was running ard the blk jus now.. ahaha.. why? u wana ask me ah?
P: haha... dun mind...
(Again disappears, P starts to panic)
Lady: hey sorry! went ard blk again..
Lady: realized that some of my clan ppl asked ***** to ask me for the nightcycling.. but ***** havent confirm
P: haha.... ic ic...
P: how come u keep running round the blk?
Lady: haha coz my neighbours all busy.. then left lvl* ones.. so ive to go there lorh..
P: oic...
Lady: ok. i can go with u! hahaa
P: nvm... if ***** ask u then it's ok..
P: it's up to u..
(Lady went offline, P went "maybe she need some time to think")
Lady: hey sorry got log out
Lady: can go with u.. i just need u to build up more muscles so that u can ride with me!! hahaahaa...
P: lol...
P: haha... i'll try...
P: eh u can run loh...
Lady: hahaaa running still ok.. cycling.. errr... got problem
P: it's almost the same thing ....both need leg power n stamina
Lady: hey so how? ride with u? confirm!?
Lady: ???
P: alrite then
Lady: ok! gtta slp alredyy!!
Lady: gdnight!!
P: nitez!

So there you have it, the truth and nothing but the truth. And come on, I'm not like asking someone for a date. It's just nite cycling. If it's a date, I'll go ask personally lah. Since when asking someone out was condemned on msn...

Sighz.. first post already doing "sai kang"...

C-Central Broadcasting (CCB): "Days that shook the World" - P1

The five ways how (NOT) to ask a girl to be your nite-cyling partner.
Events and names have been changed slightly to protect the identities of affected parties.

5. "Eh, I think I need a partner to cycle for me on nite-cycling. You interested?"

4. See 5.

3. See 5. Seriously.

2. OK fuck it, I give up. I'm more interested in writing the Number 1 way how (NOT) to ask a nite-cycling mate.

1. Based on true accounts. By the time this event unfold within the walls of his secret lair, it was well-documented how well this man, whom due to undisclosed reasons shall remain anonymous, has always wanted to go tandem-ing. This is a dramatised reconstruction of true events leading to the final minutes of "Days that shook the World".

After certain covert shit-stirring exercise by certain unnamed person(s), this man, let's call him P, wasted no time by MSN-ing certain lady in questioned. The following is a dramatised reconstruction of the MSN conversation.

P: Eh, is what *** said about you wanna go nite-cycling with me true?
At this point, the lady doesn't know if she should cry or laugh. Of course it was not true, but having been caught off-guard, she could only muster a weak reply.
Lady: Er... haha.
P: Really true ah?
Wanting to divert the question, she tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to say something ambiguous.
Lady: Er, aiya, see how la.
P: Oh, i dun mind actually... Let's go.

WTF..? Let's stop and look at the sequence of event in parts. Firstly, it was not mention in parts, by the lady, that she was interested in going nite-cycling with this certain Mr. P. But Mr. P assumes so, partly thanks to the covert shit-stirring exercise by certain forces within the ranks. Secondly, the lady did not agree, nor sadly, disagree, to go tandem-ing with Mr. P, but he assumes so, and thus sealing the deal without consent from the other party.

For the record, the nature of the way Mr. P asked the lady to be his partner for nite-cycling was rather, to put it nicely, totally unacceptable. Over @#$*&%$ bloody MSN. Where is the sincerity? And besides, doing this behind his wing mates, he has crossed the line, like a certain Selangor born Prince in an undisclosed event in SNDCC.

And that too, after assuming that the lady would go with him tandem-ing without a confirmation or consent. It is very certain that this event has shook the world to its core. CCB investigates the aftermath, and answers all the burning questions in part 2 of "Days that shook the World".

Startling Revelation!

Our @$@%#*^@ level directory keeps falling off. This is the third time since it was first mounted. Need to buy hook AGAIN to put it back up....


However, on further examination, I stumbled upon a startling clue, that might help explain the nature behind this photoframe's inefficacy in defying gravity. It all lies in the name.
DROPS. WTF! Who in their right mind would go and name a wall hanging photoframe DROPS?! It's liking naming your first son Dumba$$ and expecting him to discover a new special theory of relativity. Why would any piece of embellishment want to put up the slightest fight against a force so strong as gravity if it's lived its entire life being conditioned into believing that it was named with the purpose of carrying out precisely the opposite function. Screw you IKEA. Go back to Sweden and do what you're good at, like invent Nobel Prizes or eat meatballs.

Level rep, if you're reading this, maybe you have some alien technology at hand that could help us brainwash this poor piece of plastic into having a little more self esteem so that it can begin to believe in itself once again. Or else even a stronger hook would do.

DROPS. sheesh. i still can't get over it.

for the record we still love ikea and the wonders it has done for brightening up our rooms. please don't go back to Sweden. I was only joking

CS Debrief 15.10.07

After long last the brotherhood finally took back to the sacred corridors of CS_Fastline, attempting to infiltrate an unsuspecting MRT station and blow the crap out of the counter-terrorists. Time however had taken its toll on the rusty insurgents, and the CT's seemed to have made other plans too, the carnage seldom going further than the first set of turnstiles as they massacred us 17-2 within the first ten minutes. Even Metalaway was playing like he had one too many erdingers the night before, his disGRACEful statistics leaving him at least 2 notches below the top spot we expect him to be at. The entire course that game 1 took could be summed up by one line typed during the game by Metalaway after our entire team was reduced to dust in a matter of seconds at an ambush at the escalator. All he said were two words - "we're fucked." And at that moment, all i could think of was this time magazine cover, and thats when i knew it was time we pulled out of Iraq.


After getting creamed to the point where we were broke and battered, a re-start and re-group was called, and after a few 'cheebais' and 'wake up you ideas' flew across the wing, it was certain that there would be no more second chances after this. We had to do this together, do this as a team, and do it ponding style - hard, fast, first.

And so the counter-attack began, with Mulder storming the front in typical fashion, Sprecher picking off dead bodies as Metalaway would get to them a second sooner, Obama getting head-shot every time he had enough money to buy his BIG gun, Buangster running rampage with his trusty shotgun and Ma Xiao Ling as usual doing his own thing coz he's one block away, and also, that's just his style.

But things were starting to look normal again, flawless victories, good communication, effective ghosting and lots of buang grenades thrown by the Buangster, upon which he exclaimed - "Sorry la, i release too early". Bro, just between the six of us, that's okay... but just so you know, you don't ever want to find yourself saying that the next time you're with a lady, yeah? :)

Quotable quotes aside, the last leg of the game took on a new dimension of fun when Obama introduced a smoke grenade into the mix, which initially confused the shit out of his team mates but in the end resulted in a complete decimation of the opposing force as a John Woo style battle ensued in that smoke filled corridor, all their bullets missing us and all ours hitting them. After that round of madness, everyone was buying smoke, even though a certain someone hadn't yet figured out how to use it effectively, exacting high decibels kao-pei's from his neighbor. But it was indeed a hilarious sight to see, 6 smoke grenades going off at the bombsite and the poor CT's having no clue whatsoever where the bomb was, as mulder and co. picked them off one by one. Mulder however was a cause of one smoke attack backfiring as he was killed at the vent's opening WHILE THE SMOKE GRENADE WAS UNPINNED IN HIS HAND, causing it to go off right at the mouth of the vent, giving the CT's the perfect screen to run through our ranks.

The endearing image of last night's game however has to be Sprecher trying to communicate with Ma Xiao Ling and get him to follow into the train to flush out the last CT. MXL obviously cant hear us, so Sprecher had to find other creative ways to draw his attention and get the idea across. So he shoots a couple of round at MXL to draw his attentions, and the starts gesturing and gesticulating by swinging his gun from left to right again and again in order to tell MXL to follow him into the right corridor. It was pure comedy to see the two of them staring each other, sprecher swinging wildly in the direction he wants to go, and MXL just wondering WTF is going on, before turning around and running the other way.

We need to play more guys!

Perfect Beauty

He can't remember the first time he set eyes on her. Actually he did, but he'd rather not. 'Cause that was the first time he felt so crazy, yet so calm, and a little scared too. It would always be perfect, that moment, when he saw her smile. Or was it her eyes?

It took another few months before he made up his mind that she was the one. Or was it days, I don't really know. But he was certain, that for all that matters, she was the one. So fragile, yet so strong. So beautiful, yet so distant, from him and his world. He was all 933 kind of guy, but she was more of 98.7 kind of girl. So different, yet he felt so right.

But fate always has something up his sleeve. As it was, she was with somebody else. And how unfair that was, he felt. There was this song, by a certain McFly. So apt, wouldn't you think so, that song 'Obviously'?

But this girl, although beautiful, was imperfect in her own ways. She shouts a lot. But they seemed like music to his ears. She is a little crazy. But nonetheless adding a little spice to his life. She always ignore him. In due time, he always say to himself. She is always scolding. But he'd rather let her, because she'd always remain lovable.

It's all that, but it is OK. He knew that in his heart, she is always perfect. A perfect beauty.

This story is inspired by a certain 3rd Sargent who refuses to reveal himself. But he knew that the girl is right now single and available. And that although she is not here right now, she is always in his heart, always perfect. Maybe it's time, now?

10 things to remember while playing CS

10. Do not anyhow flashbang, remember to give warning.
9. Remember that when you're wondering who has the bomb, it is almost always you.
8. Black terrorist makes good sniper. But yellow terrorist makes better snipers.
7. Play as a team, and that means people like sprecher will have to be contended with shooting dead bodies. Besides the fact that he is lousy.
6. Always let potato go in front of you because he is a bullet magnet. He always almost get shot first before the bullets come flying to your head.
5. Always let buangster go in first. He'd either shield you from dying, or he'll kill those CT faster than you can say 'Get out of my way'.
4. Do not camp. Or in some cases stare at the door.
3. Do not AFK in middle of a game. You don't see the US AFK-ing while they go after those terrorists do you? Getting involved in IRAQ does not qualify as AFK-ing.
2. Leave your girlfriend behind. I'm serious.
1. Let's just fucking play for crying out loud.

Hmmm...

Yeah so i know we like said that the reason we started this blog is because we had wayyyy too much shit to post that we didnt want it to cram up the block C diary and now all we have to show for two weeks of going live is two measly posts, but trust me, all dua-kang-ness aside, theres is a shit load of stuff collectively strewn over the 11 hard disks of 8 short that is indeed worth sharing - its just the consolidation process thats taking a bit of time

so if there's anyone out there reading (doubtful) and anticipating (even more doubtful) our posts,, hang in there - we won't disappoint! as soon as some of us wake up our ideas, that is, and get back to making the coridoor their first priority again!

Before we all go separate ways

This post is dedicated to all 8Short

Just today I overheard a familiar face grunted about how she is going to die and fail her CA. Just how worried she was because she didn't finish revising her materials, or even if she did, she wouldn't understand any of them anyway.

And as we go through our University days, I am sure there will be more worries to contend with. From tests and exams, to lectures and tutorials, and to the extracurricular things outside school, we will never, and I'm not exaggerating, stop worrying about them. We will be consumed in our little world that we forget the beauty these four (or three, depending on your course) years have to offer. And it is a waste if you leave this compound not learning what I've learnt.

Between assignments to assignments, lectures to lectures, the most important lesson I've learnt from my professors is not thermodynamics or conservation of energy, but the simple insatiable crave for learning. While we are all fighting fire from deadlines to deadlines, the most important thing to remember is not the equations or numbers, but the process of learning. That when we graduate and are thrust into the real world, the same equations and numbers will not solve our problems. It is our ability to learn, to infer and to conclude that will keep us competitive and survive the dog eat dog world. Make it a point to learn, and not to just remember blindly. And as we grow older, do not stop learning, do not dread learning.

But the greatest lessons I've learnt in my University days are not taught in class. I've learnt the value of friendship. From the moment I stepped in Hall, and 'till the moment I leave, the most valuable asset I will take away is the friendship forged. That in times of distress, and in times of jubilant, the same friends are always there sharing the burden and the joy. I am sure you have the same sentiment. But as you rushed to your next lecture just now, did you notice the frown on your friend's face? Friendship works both way, that you have to keep you side of the bargain. So treasure the true friends you have now, forget the imposters, but most importantly, take some time off your busy day to connect with your friends. 'Cause really, he could be carrying the heaviest of burden, and you'd want to share that burden with him. That's what friends are for.

And in my days here, I have fought well and tasted both the sweet serenade of victory as well as the agony of crushing defeat. And have learnt to treat those two the same. Sometimes we focused too much on a failed relationship, or the thrashings from soccer last Saturday, or the test which we just flunk. Sometimes we let the perfect score in our project, or the victory over our nemesis team, or the praise from our professors go to our head. My best achievements are not the perfect score in tests, or being a top scorer in certain college, or having a CAP within a first class range. My best achievement is my ability to stand up and to face the challenges when I've fallen flat on my face. And this is a lesson learnt from the many falls I've experienced.

And I worry too. Sometimes unnecessarily. But I've learnt that for all the time spent worrying, the amount of effort expanded does not justify anything. That I could spend those times and efforts doing more constructive things. That instead of worrying if I'm gonna fail my exams, I could be focusing on making an effort not to fail them. That for all the worrying done, my real troubles are those that are unexpected. The kind that left you witless on an idle Tuesday. And that I cannot be prepared for, but always ready to face.

But the most humbling lesson I've learnt is to love, and to love always, deeply. Enough said.

So dear friends, as we finish up whatever is left in our University days, let us remember the friendship we share. That I am willing to listen, if you're willing to share. Let us not forget our drive to learn, from the South Park philosophy to the world philosophy. Let us worry less, and concentrate more on the things that really matter in our lives. Let us remember the victories we hand-in-hand brought home, and the defeats we faced with arms over each other's shoulders, and treat them both for nothing more than they are. And most important, let us love, and let us love truly and not be reckless with other people's heart.

As a parting shot, let us remember the days of our lives right here, right now.

First Post

Testing
1.... 2.... 1.... 2.... 3....
We sons of Sheares Hall, we...

Okay, so the blog works. Why a separate blog for block C level 8? Don't worry this isn't a secession or a revolution or what not, its just to divert some of our traffic to a different channel to avoid cluttering up the Block C diary with the overwhelming amount of videos, pictures, stories and anecdotes that we have to share.

Contributions to the Diary will still continue, and highlights from here will surely be posted there as well, but if you're just a little curious to find out more about what happens behind the blue curtain once it's drawn, this is specially for you.

Why 8short? Because we're level 8 short wing (though there is no long wing) and 8 short sounds like headshot which is a commonly used piece of jargon from Counter Strike, which is one of the many official sports up here. Other official sports include swimming, tennis, hockey, handball, ponding, monopolising, buayaing and candid cameraing.

Stay tuned for videos from the past, present and future and feel free to comment and contribute

8Short!