<?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-14665691</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:40:11.008-07:00</updated><title type='text'>e-thoughts</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-115538767488778587</id><published>2006-08-12T05:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T12:42:33.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i love google</title><content type='html'>Google is the coolest ever company. Everyone should set google as their homepage because its just so fucking cool. "hey lets google it to find out what it means", most people might not realise this, but other search engines work just as well to find out things on the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even blogspot is now owned by google, and all the more reason for people to blog, because they are blogging on google, which makes them 10 times more cool than when google didn't own it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-115538767488778587?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/115538767488778587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/115538767488778587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-love-google.html' title='i love google'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-115186077178668887</id><published>2006-07-04T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-03T20:35:07.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>World Cup Fever</title><content type='html'>As the curtain falls on another World Cup, my anticipation for the next one is considerably less than 4 years ago. This world cup has pissed me more than it has amazed me. Only Zidane and Portugal has been able to inspire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zenedine Zidane at 33, played the beautiful game like the master he is. As much as I hate cliches i have to say it "poetry in motion". Such were his dexterous swiveling and feinting. Anyway, something odd, France have been the underdogs since the round of 16, but in the semi-finals they will become the favourites to win. But some good news, they just can't win when people expect them to, My money’s on Portugal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;England crashed out in the last round. I do like the English players but its fans made me hate the team. Most of England fans aren’t really soccer fans, thankfully they went out, now I don’t have the urge to punch anyone who wears the England jersey anymore. England will be taking with them the huge following of irritants who just wants to fit in around June every four years. Of course, i realize there are people who actually are British, so they're excused. But the rest of you aren't. So if there's a soccer hell, you people are definitely in for one troublesome eternity, take my advice and stop watching soccer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read on someone's blog, "ENGLAND is OVER-RATED &amp; OVER-PAID!!! BYE BYE ENGLAND!!! SEE U IN 4 YRS TIME!!! =) ". Sadly, its not only the fans of England who aren't really soccer fans. Does this guy realize that all but 2 internationals in the England squad plays in the premiere league, so he's basically yelling "I don't really know that soccer fans watch the English Premier League because all I know is that I am cool because I don’t support England and might be able to trick the real fans into believing I actually watch soccer. Suckers". Right now, this lost soul is watching the world cup because everyone talks about it and he's so insecure he has to interrupt conversations to speak about his superior football knowledge. And also that he knew England were going to lose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then as with every World Cup, there will be the philosophical twats. This bunch irritates me more than the non-soccer fans. I mean, soccer is generally exciting so the world cup is a good way to build a fair-weathered support that pays the soccer industry. These philosophical ones, in case you can’t recognize them, they usually stand out by saying "I support whoever the money is on", thus making them assholes. These guys just have to act like they're on a plane above everyone else and are looking down are laughing at idiots who actually support a favourite team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say it has been fun and sometimes amusing talking about the World Cup with people i don't usually talk with about soccer. But I recommend these people to start watching something like Singapore Idol to remain cool after the world cup ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My tips for the Semis-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Italy to overcome Germany within 90 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;Portugal will not lose by 2 goals or more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-115186077178668887?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/115186077178668887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/115186077178668887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2006/07/world-cup-fever.html' title='World Cup Fever'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-115096311411187830</id><published>2006-06-22T16:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-22T00:58:34.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To all soccer punters</title><content type='html'>Want to win easy money? Follow my accurate predictions to earn another $400 and take leave for this whole month. Stop working. You're going to need all that time spending away your winnings this June.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Italy to win Czech by 2 goals or more.&lt;br /&gt;So bet on Italy to give 1 1/2 and an outright win for italy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brazil to win Japan by 2 goals or more.&lt;br /&gt;So bet on Brazil to win A-A, brazil to give 1 1/2 and an outright brazil win.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-115096311411187830?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/115096311411187830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/115096311411187830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2006/06/to-all-soccer-punters.html' title='To all soccer punters'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-115008442173610381</id><published>2006-06-15T14:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T23:45:35.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I can't breathe the air around me is filled with 99% stupidity and 1% Nitrogen</title><content type='html'>dinesh and tim are such losers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-becky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the last straw for me, it would seem. I have taken away the readers' privilege to comment on intelligent issues and make sense in their arguements because basically there a quite a handful of idiots out there. So next time you idiots decide to present a seemingly viable argument just slit your wrist and do the world a favour. I'll save your lives this time by taking the comment option away, but there are plenty of other blogs out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since our resident rocket scientist here becky has decided that i am a loser, i've decided to oblige and lose her from my blog. Also, some of you observant folks would have noticed that there aren't any links to friends' sites and all previous &lt;em&gt;personal&lt;/em&gt; entries has been removed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? you ask. Why should assholes like becky know exactly who I am, where I live, What I study and be able to spite me know that i cannot in any way reach her . If any idiots out there have anything to say now, don't. But the smarter ones can e-mail me at &lt;a href="mailto:dinesh_manu@hotmail.com"&gt;dinesh_manu@hotmail.com&lt;/a&gt;. And if any of you twats have the time to create a new account just to e-mail me, please don't scream out that you have no fucking balls in the subject, i usually get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a more personal note, ok this is where people i don't know should stop reading, thanks, I think becky is a stupid name? If you agree, please e-mail me so i'll know how many people have good judgement.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-115008442173610381?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/115008442173610381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/115008442173610381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-cant-breathe-air-around-me-is-filled.html' title='I can&apos;t breathe the air around me is filled with 99% stupidity and 1% Nitrogen'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-114803356592100754</id><published>2006-05-19T06:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-19T03:16:25.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking for a politically correct view on PAP's total domination? Me neither.</title><content type='html'>At the recent Worker's Party (to be called hammerhead from now on) rally, there were maybe 30 thousand people cheering and clapping everytime a candidate finishes a sentence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So i begin wondering, is it cool to support the opposition? I mean, its got to be cool when you hear people talking about politics and you just cut in saying, "Fuck PAP". Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really i am getting sick with PAP's landslide win election after election, and there are so many people saying they suport the opposition. Something's got to give, either PAP are manipulating the votes or Singaporeans are just too pussy to vote the opposition when it comes down to the real thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing, the PAP apparently launched this mega campaign saying how secret this whole election is going to be. And that no one will know who you voted for. What didn't surprise me was that the opposition agreed with the secrecy of the procedure. If it was not secret, that means the PAP will know who you voted for which means the opposition won't get any votes. Good on you oppositions for supporting your government. Truly admirable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since i am so annoyed with the political scene here, and don't want to be labelled a "quitter" like Jayaretnam, wait, did he quit Singapore? He's insane not to have, i will be forming my own political party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"King of You Party", going with the theme that Singaporeans want to be bossed around like 2-year-olds. And of course every party needs an acronym, which the "i-support-the-opposition-so-i'm-fucking-cool-but-am-too-pussy-to-vote-for-them" public will turn into a joke like "pay-and-pay", so my party's acronym will be KOYP, try forming a stupid joke with those words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My party will not allow any protests; Under my government, there will be no assembly, peaceful or otherwise, unless you have a permit. Anyone who protests will be seen as trying to imply that the government is not doing enough for the country and hence trying to shake up a potential nationwide pendemonium, thus having to be stopped under the ISA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have i ever mentioned how much the ISA ruled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My party will also pass a monarchy bill which will enable my despotic and nepotistic rule to forever be in place. And again anyone who protest, just refer to the aforementioned protest bill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, during elections, whichever constituencies do not vote me to represent them will undergo a major recontruction worth about 200 million per estate to upgrade all facilities and every block will have their lifts removed from every floor. Lets see who they vote next time round.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe i should just ban voting. Voting means trying to undermine the government by thinking that someone else can do a better job. Man the ISA rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a whole bunch of bills that will totally make my party rock. But lets face it, i can't even run in elections for another 3 years, the next election is god knows when and realistically i could be very content just joining the PAP.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-114803356592100754?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114803356592100754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114803356592100754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2006/05/looking-for-politically-correct-view.html' title='Looking for a politically correct view on PAP&apos;s total domination? Me neither.'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-114682200729299710</id><published>2006-05-05T17:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T02:40:07.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;"Repression, Sir is a habit that grows. I am told it is like making love-it is always easier the second time! The first time there may be pangs of conscience, a sense of guilt. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But once embarked on this course with constant repetition you get more and more brazen in the attack. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;All you have to do is to dissolve organizations and societies and banish and detain the key political workers in these societies. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Then miraculously everything is tranquil on the surface. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Then an intimidated press and the government-controlled radio together can regularly sing your praises, and slowly and steadily the people are made to forget the evil things that have already been done, or if these things are referred to again they're conveniently distorted and distorted with impunity, because there will be no opposition to contradict."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Lee Kuan Yew as an opposition PAP member speaking to David Marshall, Singapore Legislative Assembly, Debates, 4 October, 1956&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-114682200729299710?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114682200729299710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114682200729299710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2006/05/repression-sir-is-habit-that-grows.html' title=''/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-114552753757082312</id><published>2006-04-20T18:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T03:06:24.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You're the only constant in my mind</title><content type='html'>Have you ever heard, the average male thinks about sex once every three seconds. However perverted that might seem, it may be true. But, actually, most of the time we're not thinking of sex, as in hardcore action and i want to bang the girl next to me on the mrt or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its maybe more of like, "hey, that girl is actually quite pretty", or "look at the cleavage on that girl". So, the thoughts might be sexual in nature, but sexual thoughts are very subjective. Some like em big, other like em small. Who's to judge what's sexual in nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, back tracking to "once every three seconds", shit, that's like a third of my life dedicated to sexual thoughts. How more perverted can guys get, teach me. And if you think about it, we sleep one third of our lives. So that's like two-thirds of our existence dediacted to very specific goals already, resting and sex. So guys basically only waste one third of our lives. Phew, at least two-thirds of it goes to some use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to think i was fearing that i might achieve nothing in my lifetime. Pfft.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-114552753757082312?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114552753757082312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114552753757082312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2006/04/youre-only-constant-in-my-mind.html' title='You&apos;re the only constant in my mind'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-114486470357060907</id><published>2006-04-13T02:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T11:25:03.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If just you could understand my pain</title><content type='html'>I have the worst tooth-ache ever. Man, most of you don't even know what a toothache is...it fucking hurts man, fucking hurts. I used to laugh at people with toothaches, because, its not a real pain. Its just in your mouth and there's no bruising, no bleeding or any visible ailment, in short, its a sissy's pain. How my impression has changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, the real reason for this post has of course more substance than my bloody toothache, i'm not the sort of person to yelp everytime something bad or hurtful happens and post it up on my site and cry to my mummy or look for sympathy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was on the SMRT a few days back, and this girl showing alot of cleavage walks in and stood almost right in front of me. I'm not a pervert or anything, but i just couldn't help but look. I felt disgusted for looking, but that didn't stop me from stealing glances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Given i might be single and people may think i'm a pervert. But there were guys with wives and some with girlfriends and one even looked gay, they all stared. Anyway to take my mind(and eyes) off her chest, i started counting the number of guys who were stealing quickies of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One after another they came into the train, one after another, their eyes landed on her chest, and then quickly to the railing to hang on to to avoid falling on her chest when the train started moving. I chalked up 26/30 guys, who were in decent view of her chest, looking at her chest. The other 4 might be gays, i'll have to get back to you on that. And those who looked, it wasn't just one time affairs, they were repeat offenders. Actually, repeated and repeated and repeated and repeated offenders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after the 30th guy, i got sick of the consistency at which guys were oogling her. Oh yeah, and if you count me, 27/31. That only makes the male half of our species seem more dispicable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, if you think about it, its instinctive, its the most natural thing a guy would do. Its almost animal-like, an inbuilt reaction, a primal instinct. And girls have it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girls, when was the last time you walked past a shop and you see shoes. And you just have to take a look. HAVE TO take a look. You pick up pair and pair after pair and look. Its the same thing with guys. We have to look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, not looking is when the problem arises. Think about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-114486470357060907?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114486470357060907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114486470357060907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2006/04/if-just-you-could-understand-my-pain.html' title='If just you could understand my pain'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-114396928800911175</id><published>2006-04-12T20:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T11:14:03.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>boo-hoo</title><content type='html'>You have just been granted inexclusive previewing of my site. In entering this arena, where there is only one person who reigns supreme, you have relinquished your right to oppose any of my ideas. And the supreme reigning guy, yeah, in case you haven't guessed, its me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, in recent times, i have been absolutely aghast with revelations of being labelled an MCP. And lucky for the person who mentioned it, i don't give a sweet-smelling rose of what people think of me, be it a male chauvinistic pig or ultraman or doink the clown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But just to put things right, i'm not an mcp, i just enjoy looking down on girls and their crappy ideas and scrutinise their every move until they make a mistake and point it out to them and then laugh so badly that it gives me the hicups.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing girls have to understand, is that when i, or when guys (can i even generalise?), think they are being dumb, it is, more often than not, when they are thinking with their heart. So, girls have stupid hearts really. Nothing wrong with their brains, phew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guys, on the other hand, think very differently i should add. But there's no need to look down on any genders because of their ways of thinking, or the organ they use to think with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just in case you haven't caught on the drift, i'm not saying guys use their heads to think either...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-114396928800911175?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114396928800911175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114396928800911175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2006/04/boo-hoo.html' title='boo-hoo'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-114312920463763488</id><published>2006-03-24T00:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-23T08:20:16.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If I Had A Shooting Star For A Pen, I Would Write Your Name Across The Sky</title><content type='html'>I was watching this talkshow, and the host said "so what's going on in your life right now?" inquizitively. And the guest said "i'm engaged now", and the host goes on to say "yeah, let's put our hands together for her fiance Gary sitting in the crowd tonight."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's analyse this a little bit. The host knew she was engaged, and that her fiance was in the crowd, yet asked her with a face that suggested puzzlement what was going on in her life at the moment, when she very well knew what was going on in her life. Is there no better way to introduce the fact that she's engaged? I was not amused...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it didn't help that the show was america's next top model reunion show. I hate that lousy show, the only thing good about it was the girls, the contest sucks, the show sucks, certainly tyra banks sucks, the judges all sucked...it was just one sucky show with a whole lot of attractive booty. Not that i'm a booty person...eh...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing better than the girls on the show, is that now, after the reunion(which i think is the last episode of reality shows?) is that channel 5 has a 1 hour timeshot free to programme a better show. Hopefully it won't be the male version of the modelling show (whatever its called)...because then the programme wouldn't even have girls on it...that'll suck majorly (and please don't tell me majorly is not a word, because wouldn't you know it...i know)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking of moving on to write the social impacts of having shows depicting only beautiful women bitching about other women to become the ultimate bitch...oh i mean...America's Next Top Model...but who the fuck really wants to know the social impacts when there's so much booty and not to mention boobies around. Stick social degradation, yay to beauty verging on soft porn on tv.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disclaimer: if you have problems understanding what i wrote above, you're either one of thos above-mentioned bitch types or that i write really incoherently&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-114312920463763488?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114312920463763488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114312920463763488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2006/03/if-i-had-shooting-star-for-pen-i-would.html' title='If I Had A Shooting Star For A Pen, I Would Write Your Name Across The Sky'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-114227383235301217</id><published>2006-03-19T02:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-13T10:17:15.953-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Powerful Power</title><content type='html'>I have always reiterated that i cannot stand the uprising of flower power. Why do women feel the need to prove they can live without men, but never the reverse.  You hear things like 'girls' night out', but would a guy ever say 'i'm having a boys night out'? The only logical and very obvious deduction boils down to an apparent insecurity among the fairer sex. I think. Guys have no need to prove their dominance or superiority.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem with flower power, is that it doesn't really work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is amazing, you know. You put 5 girls together and the eventual result is animosity, shielded or otherwise. You put 5 guys together and you get cohesive chaos, very un-shielded and fun cohesive chaos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing, why is it that girls indulge so profligately in love. Why must they love friends? I bet no guy can ever see the logic in that. If any of my guy friends ever said they loved me, i'd kick their ass to brokeback mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there, this is my version of the difference between guys and girls, but, we aren't all that different either, but that's for another post for another time, i'm running out of topics to write about. And i bet this post will make me real popular with the girls, seeing that i know their kind so well...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-114227383235301217?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114227383235301217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114227383235301217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2006/03/powerful-power.html' title='A Powerful Power'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-114149042947321129</id><published>2006-03-06T12:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-04T08:40:29.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Or not to drive</title><content type='html'>you won't believe what happened today...i was at work and this french lady comes up to me, sticks some strange electronic device to her neck and starts "speaking". you know the kind where the device will output lifeless and robotic "words". i could not understand a work of it, and it wasn't her french accent i can tell you. i know the bloody device exists, but just never thought someone would actually speak to me with it....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah, i also got my driving license at last, in the mail this morning. looks cool, how many 19 year olds has that card...quite cool indeed. i am losing my enthusiasm of driving already, not like i hate it or anything, but i just don't crave it, i drive when i need to, like back home from work. (though i only know the PIE and ECP roads)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well...that's it i guess, my life isn't really bustling right now&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-114149042947321129?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114149042947321129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/114149042947321129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2006/03/or-not-to-drive.html' title='Or not to drive'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-113990378734504076</id><published>2006-02-14T16:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T23:56:27.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thats why i hate babies</title><content type='html'>Today is valentine's and i'm at home typing out this shit of an entry...the epitomy of not "having a life". The bloody baby must have screwed me over, i've always had my doubts if he knew how to use that bow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, the holidays seem to be very eventful for many people, most of them celebrating almost everyday since the end of school. But for me it's been a little different, video games on friday, soccer on saturday, soccer again on sunday, and more video games on monday. If this keeps up...i'll be pretty darn good at soccer and video games when school eventually starts again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the coming of holidays, the thing i love most is sleeping till 3pm and not having a single thought on "what do i have to do today", the answer is nothing. I can not do a single thing and still have a great day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The food factor is one problem though, when i sit home and do nothing like yesterday, there's chips, "melting" cookies, chipsmore, pineapple tarts (love this), egg rolls, chocolate, ice-cream...so i'm thinking, none of them have skin on them, but they can be too good for health right?...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So right...valentine's day...who shall i spend it with? the ps2 console, the tv or the soccer ball? Gotta admit, i love the curves on the ball the most, but the tv has the most "personalities" on it...the ps2 lets me vent my anger on her and leave at any moment and will always be waiting there for me...what a plethora of choices...yay for me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-113990378734504076?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113990378734504076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113990378734504076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2006/02/thats-why-i-hate-babies.html' title='Thats why i hate babies'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-113853960368200277</id><published>2006-01-30T21:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T05:53:49.580-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's so wrong about it?</title><content type='html'>Alright, after boring the hell out of you for the previous few entries, i'm finally going to stop being all sissy and personal in the posts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the list for reality programmes you pray you never will have to sit through, ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Temptation Island: Alaska&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Survivor: Greenland&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Survivor: Robinson Crusoe: Cannibal Island&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Survivor: Afghanistan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bang’d&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pimp my Bride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iraq’s next top terrorist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Project Run-away: from school&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Singapore Idol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i might even make up some of the rules for these programmes in future entries and if anyone has any brilliant reality programme in mind...feel free to share&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-113853960368200277?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113853960368200277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113853960368200277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2006/01/whats-so-wrong-about-it.html' title='What&apos;s so wrong about it?'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-113838521683332971</id><published>2006-01-28T02:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-27T10:06:56.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MALAYSIA IS LOOKING FOR BIGFOOT IN ITS JUNGLES...PFFT</title><content type='html'>Tell you the truth, i'm not that surprised...and i just had to post that&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-113838521683332971?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113838521683332971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113838521683332971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2006/01/malaysia-is-looking-for-bigfoot-in-its.html' title='MALAYSIA IS LOOKING FOR BIGFOOT IN ITS JUNGLES...PFFT'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-113541684281631686</id><published>2005-12-24T17:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-24T01:34:02.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All i want for christmas is you</title><content type='html'>I've struck gold, i figured out what present is most on demand and least on supply this christmas, and actually for as many previous christmas days I can remember, its "you".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I probably may be guilty of indulging in this profound fantasy myself. But it gets on my nerves year after year, all everybody wants for christmas is "you" and probably a sports car to take "you" out in...or not...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in this sports car, they probably want to drive you to a romantic spot, somewhere close to the sea near changi. Admire the airplanes from the comfort of the leather seats.  And most likely score points, if not hitting the ball out of the park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All i want for christmas is for everyone to start asking good health and world peace and animal rights&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-113541684281631686?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113541684281631686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113541684281631686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/12/all-i-want-for-christmas-is-you.html' title='All i want for christmas is you'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-113457558608547052</id><published>2005-12-14T23:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-14T07:53:06.096-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You've Been Tagged</title><content type='html'>Apparently i got tagged and now have to write five "weird" things about myself. At first, i thought its just plain stupid to do it, but i decided not to be a spoilt sport.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I love the smell of glue, gasoline and paint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I like the colour purple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I have a favourite word: Antiquity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I always forget, literally sometimes, but never forgive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I hate possessing things without brand names, but claim to be a utilitarian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weird enough? ok so now i'm supposed to get 5 other people to say weird things about themselves, but as always the chain ends with me, more often than not, not giving it a damn about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-113457558608547052?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113457558608547052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113457558608547052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/12/youve-been-tagged.html' title='You&apos;ve Been Tagged'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-113428306463041363</id><published>2005-12-10T22:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-10T22:37:44.650-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I bought a new mouse.</title><content type='html'>ok, so get this, i needed a new mouse becuase the old old was just plain nasty and pretty much spoilt. So in school i got this $12 mouse, looked kind of alright, i mean hey, a mouse is a mouse right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So i go home, dumped the old one and hooked up the new one. Lo and behold, the mouse has a neon blue glow to it. I'm like, fuck? i wanted a mouse not a bloody disco with blue and red lights (optical mouse yeah, can't get those good old "ball" ones no more, guess those are not cool anymore)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And speaking about cool...anyone seen the new blood drive campaign? its cool to save life. Yeah its also cool if i get to shove my foot down the guy's throat who invented this statement, but do i get to do it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to know what does the fucking word mean? Cool. What is it like to be cool? Most teens don't really give a fuck about what cool is i think. I know i don't. Cool to me is about being me, its not a way of life i have to adapt to to suddenly become cool overnight. All those fucking balding marketers who think its a good idea to associate their teen-targeted products with coolness has got to be asking for someone's foot down their throats right. Its almost like their begging for it. And yeah, i'm wondering who the fucking idiot is who came up with "saving lives is cool". Well i got news for that guy, shoving my foot down his throat would be immensely cool, but do i get to do it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah, maybe teens really are that fucking stupid actually, i can't believe why everyone's wearing those stupid faded jeans. Their paying money for something that looks old and worn. Its almost as stupid as those people paying for antiques. Maybe they just want to blend in with people who don't have money to buy new things so they have to wear a very old pair of hand-me-down jeans. OR, maybe they're just too fucking stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, talking about antique collectors. Don't even let me get started on them. I feel the need to comdemn as many types of people as i can since its been quite a while since i last posted an entry. Antique collectors have got to be the dumbest fucking people on earth. You why antiques become antiques? Its because the product was too fucking useless to continue production in its time, so a hundred or so years on, dumb fuckers will spend thousands of dollars on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah so you better hang on to those glow in the dark optical mouse and flyers of those "saving lives is cool" campaign, wonder if people a hundred years from now will have a sense of humour?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-113428306463041363?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113428306463041363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113428306463041363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/12/i-bought-new-mouse.html' title='I bought a new mouse.'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-113396664572323153</id><published>2005-12-07T10:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-07T06:45:04.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When I look into your eyes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU ACTUALLY THOUGHT FOR A MOMENT THAT I HAD A REAL POST HERE DIDN'T YOU...&lt;br /&gt;I'M DISAPPOINTED....TSK TSK...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-113396664572323153?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113396664572323153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113396664572323153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/12/when-i-look-into-your-eyes.html' title='When I look into your eyes...'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-113333637569474174</id><published>2005-11-30T00:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T23:43:53.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We need more violence on TV</title><content type='html'>People are always bitching about violence and sex on tv and how it influences the youths. I completely stopped watching tv for like 2 weeks already, the only thing i watch is whatever things on MTV and soccer every weekend. AND man, after watching channel 5 today, for about 3 straight hours ending with tiramisu(complete shit of a show and utter waste of brain cells comprehending idiotic and moronic storyline) i realise why people are bitching about sex and violence: there's not fucking enough of it, everything on channel 5 sucks the way reading sleeping beauty sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need alot more violence on tv, alot more. I mean, seriously, I don't want to see that gof akara guy being more obnoxious than an "emo" kid or that Tan Keng Hua just eating and eating and eating and eating. If it were up to me, I'll remove all the fucking shows on tv and put steven siegal as the manager for the entire network, if possible he could cross over to radio and puch all those irritating drivers who bother to call in to all those fucking cheezy shows in the morning. I'd definately recommend this programme, wonder why i never thought of it earlier though, a show where there's just this guy running over old people and stupid babies crawling onto roads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's that? Lame idea?!...oh well...i say "go to fucking hell".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway back to this guy running over senile seniors and stupid saliva-dripping babies because he feels he needs to reduce the stupidity in the world and curb the rising population threat the world poses. Of course the main lead, probably siegal himself will drive from China to India to the United States, Singapore don't need to curb population, we need to fly those injured people who survived being run over in and treat them and become a medical hub where all the sick people in the world comes to. We should have more shows like Rambo on TV all the time, now that'll be kickass. All those dipshits bitching about violence and sex on television need my foot down their eosophagus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Violence builds character, we don't want to raise a nation of wimpy citizens who become generals kissing asses and not ever even seeing a war in life. Ok, thats it, i'm too tired to continue this...i'll just leave the sex bit up to your imaginations...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-113333637569474174?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113333637569474174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113333637569474174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/11/we-need-more-violence-on-tv.html' title='We need more violence on TV'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-113223571597949627</id><published>2005-11-17T21:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T06:03:20.250-08:00</updated><title type='text'>seeing what is not there is not always that funny</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6361/1334/1600/bush.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6361/1334/320/bush.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy can really envision ahead&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-113223571597949627?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113223571597949627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113223571597949627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/11/seeing-what-is-not-there-is-not-always.html' title='seeing what is not there is not always that funny'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-113181828311238284</id><published>2005-11-13T01:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-12T11:00:57.583-08:00</updated><title type='text'>List of some of the things that can ruin my day</title><content type='html'>sound of my alarm clock&lt;br /&gt;people who brush their teeth more than once a day&lt;br /&gt;vevian cheong&lt;br /&gt;going to school early&lt;br /&gt;going to school late&lt;br /&gt;going to school at all&lt;br /&gt;every single person on the mrt train i'm on in the morning&lt;br /&gt;the queue outside the printing shop at school&lt;br /&gt;babies&lt;br /&gt;people that are in a good mood all the time&lt;br /&gt;canned lychees&lt;br /&gt;joggers jogging on the spot while waiting for the lights to change&lt;br /&gt;food from grinning gecko&lt;br /&gt;attention seeking people&lt;br /&gt;"muts"&lt;br /&gt;cute animals&lt;br /&gt;the phrase "its what's on the inside that count"&lt;br /&gt;the phrase "my heart told me" (your heart can't fucking talk)&lt;br /&gt;lanyards&lt;br /&gt;chicken skin (dude, its like 100% fats)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe tomorrow i'll post a list of some of the things that can brighten my day. And i must make it clear that this list is not completed at the moment its all i can remember.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-113181828311238284?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113181828311238284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113181828311238284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/11/list-of-some-of-things-that-can-ruin.html' title='List of some of the things that can ruin my day'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-113162682758974254</id><published>2005-11-10T20:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T04:47:07.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mindless Gamer</title><content type='html'>I love to spend midless hours on my ps2 console stabbing away on the buttons and headbutting the wall nearest to me whenever my character dies. I don't understand why games are becoming so realistic nowadays, why in god's name must bullet ammunition run out? And even though i could fucking spray every enemy's brains all over the pavement i have to resort to running around like an idiot finding bullets and health and shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody wants to play virtual scavenger hunts. If i wanted to find shit, i'd clean out my room and if i wanted realism i wouldn't fucking be playing video games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was playing Max Payne just now, with it being the end of weekend and all, for those who don't know what the fuck the game's about, think Counter-Strike. So the game was so bloody shitty i had to wait for redundant cut-aways for character and storyline building, i mean just tell me whose brains i have to blow, and lets start playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was already on a previous save and had completed the earlier shit which had significantly more character building animation, save points is another whacked idea, why do we need to find a pedestal or talk to some shit head to save the game, we never needed that in Mario.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But i continued playing because i had so much free time that i didn't know of a more pathetic way to blow. I defeated this mob boss guy, and just when i thought the fun was supposed to start, the fucking thing ended on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So just when you thought the fun in this post is about to start, it's going to fucking end on you just because i want you to know how it feels.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-113162682758974254?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113162682758974254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113162682758974254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/11/mindless-gamer.html' title='Mindless Gamer'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-113069397597533762</id><published>2005-10-31T01:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T09:39:35.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>time (or the lack of it)</title><content type='html'>i find myself having no time to think up of the incredible crap that i blogged about during the holidays. I have very recently (yesterday) even contemplated closing down this shit factory because the kind of stuff i find myself trying to squeeze in here (like the last joke) is just pathetic. I rather close this blog down that to stoop to discussing intellectual topics that make a difference to this world, i just will not subject myself to the torture of reality and smart-ass "global" topics. Who gives a rats ass about how many companies Disney own, they produce fucking shitty content that have so much singing in it that i rather stab my eye-ball with a toothpick than sit through happy singing and feel good ending. My cousin loves the channel and i'd be stuck to listening to the incessant singing until i can't stand it anymore and start head-butting all the soft toys in her room. Is all that singing necessary? can't anyone walk to to school feeling normal and sulking and frowning and being so despondant they let the flies nibble on their ears without having the energy to flick them away. Why are kids being filled with so much bullshit with happy endings and talking candles. Disney sucks. Whenever i watch anything in Disney channel i just feel so sugar coated i have to punch someone in the face to get rid of that feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and how did i get to talking about Disney in the first place?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-113069397597533762?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113069397597533762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113069397597533762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/10/time-or-lack-of-it.html' title='time (or the lack of it)'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-113025478808161201</id><published>2005-10-25T23:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-10T22:19:03.646-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep thoughts on everyday life</title><content type='html'>If you went parachuting, and your parachute doesn't open, and all your friends are watching you fall. I think it would be real funny if you pretended you were swimming in mid-air...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were out hiking with your friend and he gets bitten by a poisonous snake, tell him you're going to run for help and wait there for you, then walk 10 feet and pretend that you've got bitten by a poisonous snake as well and start an argument about who's going to run for help now. He'll probably start crying. But will be damn relieved when you tell him it was just a joke and you can actually run for help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contrary to common belief, neither the lion nor the tiger is the most dangerous animal in the world. Its a hammer head shark riding an elephant, just trampling and eating everything in sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I see an old lady slip and fall on the sidewalk, my first instinct is to burst out laughing. But then conscience sets in, and i think, what if i was an ant, and she fell on me. Then it wouldn't seem quite so funny would it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you die, and god gave you a choice between regular heaven or chocolate sundea heaven. Choose chocolate sundea heaven, it might be a trick, but if its not a trick, mmmm mm mmmmm... you're in for a treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you ever caught fire and don't know what to do, try to avoid looking in a mirror. I bet the sight would throw you into a real panic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-113025478808161201?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113025478808161201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/113025478808161201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/10/deep-thoughts-on-everyday-life.html' title='Deep thoughts on everyday life'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-112939416152935498</id><published>2005-10-16T00:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-15T10:08:01.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I had nothing to blog about and "thought" i was wasting my life away, so i wanted to waste abit of your life reading this post</title><content type='html'>I was sitting in front the computer the other day. Just thinking, waiting and hoping and wishing, you know, the absolutely retarded garbage we think of when we're all to our selves and in front of the computer. And not surfing porn (for guys). I thought of writting an emotional entry on my blog, not that I had totally flipped or anything, I just wanted to see if people would say things like "i'm there for you" then another thought popped into my head, "shut the fuck up you fucking retarded loser!!!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I only thought to this emotional entry idea because it drives me crazy that people actually post it up on their blogs. Its like they want others to know, and yet they make it sound like they're bearing all the burden and sufferings and pain on their lone shoulders. People have their own shit to take care off, wanker. (At this point you know its a guy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I spent a good 2 minutes thinking of that, when i realised that my mind could actually perform 7 thoughts at one go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought maybe I shouldn't hate school too much this semester.&lt;br /&gt;I thought "hey, life's a bitch its, supposed to suck"&lt;br /&gt;I thought "Manchester United would surely win Sunderland, SUNDERLAND for god's sake"&lt;br /&gt;I thought how nice it would be if I had 3 wishes from a magical genie.&lt;br /&gt;I thought about the pros and cons of scracthing my elbow.&lt;br /&gt;and I thought of a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So while these 7 things kept my mind fully occupied i somehow managed to hear the MSN "sound thingy" for when you received a new mail. By now I had lost all control over my nervous system and was drooling abit and loosing my eyesight. So immediately I stopped thinking about school and how bitchy life was to regain control over my mouth and my failing eyesight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a while I had to stop thinking about the magical genie and 3 wishes to start thinking about the newly received mail. I went to my inbox and opened it, bummer, it was some unknown programme sent anonymously. So insticntively I did what I normally would do when I received anonymously sent programmes: I ran it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turned out to be some cheezy "theater-building" game, I don't know maybe bundled with a virus, but had that thought crossed my mind at that time, I would have lost all feelings in my arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't stay long to find out whether the game sucked, my brother would do that for me. For now I had something much more important to fill my last remaining "mind slot" with. I thought of how great life would be if I just had that genie...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-112939416152935498?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112939416152935498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112939416152935498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/10/because-i-had-nothing-to-blog-about.html' title='Because I had nothing to blog about and &quot;thought&quot; i was wasting my life away, so i wanted to waste abit of your life reading this post'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-112921850082932069</id><published>2005-10-13T23:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T08:48:20.836-07:00</updated><title type='text'>B' Cool</title><content type='html'>I know many people love MTV, especially us youths and their eccentric totally brainless shows. Yeah, its good programming. But what happens when old people think they found something that is "cool" among teenagers, they stick with it, even when they can't or shouldn't. What happens when 40-year-old bigwigs take charge of MTV is that good shows like Punk'd breed fucked up shows like trippin'...its like...why in god's name do they have to call it trippin' (complete with the missing 'g' and the  '  at the end)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its retarded that these MTV assholes think trippin' is a cool show for Cameron Diaz to host a documentary-like show of countries around the world. If we wanted to see that kind of fucking crap we would switch to Discovery. The notion that the 40-year-old "cool dudes" thought such a programme would be good for MTV bemuses me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its fucking stupid  that MTV needs to follow this trend of frowning upon linguistic formalities like proper enunciaton. Sorry I meant proper " nunciation', yo! "&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-112921850082932069?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112921850082932069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112921850082932069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/10/b-cool.html' title='B&apos; Cool'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-112889745611325673</id><published>2005-10-10T06:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-09T16:57:53.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>some cliches i wished i never heard again</title><content type='html'>"I'm sorry but..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a real irritating cliche often used by girls when they want to say "i'm sorry but your an asshole"...are they really that sorry to say that?? Girls want to sound polite even when they're scolding you. Guess it came from the phrase "i'm sorry to tell you, but you lost your leg", polite way of delivering bad news. Well i guess it might be justifiable for girls to use it the way they do, afterall, it is bad news if you never knew you were an asshole...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"it takes one to know another"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also a favourite among girls. Someone might scold a girl "you cheap slut" and then the girl on the receiving end goes "it takes one to know another"...its like...what-the-fuck...you're not actually rebutting to being a slut, you're just admitting to being a slut but ensuring everyone knows that you're being called by another slut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Best things in life are free"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My all-time favourite cliche. Sure the best things in life are free, maybe like love, guess what, you might not have noticed but so are the worst things in life, you don't see many people throwing parties to celebrate getting cancer do you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above are just some cliches I really can't stand cliches in general, actually, i hate all cliches, each and every single one. They don't add anything to what you're saying. And don't you people post cliche-d comments to agree or disagree you cocky bastards...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-112889745611325673?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112889745611325673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112889745611325673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/10/some-cliches-i-wished-i-never-heard.html' title='some cliches i wished i never heard again'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-112870875737126743</id><published>2005-10-08T02:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T04:14:53.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 reasons why women shouldn't bitch about being a woman.</title><content type='html'>why it would be good to have a vagina...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I would instantly gain minority status and get tax incentives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I could easily hook up with anyone and get laid just by walking around Orchard Road past midnight, or actually...i could even be walking around under my HDB void deck and my chances of getting laid would still be quite high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I could be bisexual, if i were so inclined, and not hear the scooting of chairs and get disgusted stares.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I could punch just about anyone as hard as I wanted or attack them with a large blunt object (the rolling pin cliche comes to mind) and rarely face assault charges.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Divorce is god-sent justice in Singapore:&lt;br /&gt;a I would more than likely receive custody and child support in the instance of a divorce.&lt;br /&gt;b. I would also more than likely not be liable to pay child support in the instance of a divorce.&lt;br /&gt;c. I could however receive a stipend because I've become accustomed to living the lifestyle that my ex-husband's salary had previously afforded me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I wouldn't be labeled a pussy if i cried during a particularly touching and emotional scene or if i yelped during a scary/terrifying/incredibly shocking and gory scene in a horror flick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Guys would always be an abundant supply to boost my confidence.(kind of like having a loyal dog that would love you no matter what you did to it) They'll laugh at my jokes, listen to my problems and be able to totally understand why the girl i bitch about is such a slut. And if they become annoying, I would generally be able to drive them away with the phrase "I love how we're such good friends."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. My hair would smell great. It would be soft, silky and shiny and flowing. Men aren't allowed to use flowery conditioners or perfumes. They are only allowed use deodrants that are derived from the anus of hooved animals. (Otherwise, terms such as gay or metrosexual will be tossed about)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I wouldn't have to serve in the NS but still be allowed to make sexist statements without repercussions because of my newly appointed minority status. At the same time, I could become vindictive upon hearing chauvinist statements, even when made in jest, because I am now a minority and you just wouldn't understand my pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I would definately get my dream present from at least one idiot dumbass guy for my birthday, now how blatant do i have to be to get that iPod again?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But would i ever trade up for all these benefits, not in a million lifetimes. I've been a guy far too long to stop this ride in second gear. Then i have to think about pregnancy, birth, menstruation, menopause and being expected to be a kitchen slave and being mechanically retarded. And the list i just made would only ever be useful to me if god himself came down and said "you're it, no wait...you're her".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-112870875737126743?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112870875737126743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112870875737126743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/10/top-10-reasons-why-women-shouldnt.html' title='Top 10 reasons why women shouldn&apos;t bitch about being a woman.'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-112836321714593484</id><published>2005-10-04T02:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-10T22:29:30.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>JUST HATE THOSE CHAIN MAILS</title><content type='html'>Don't you love it when you open your e-mail inbox and see chain mails? I just love it when that happens...i get to see into the future&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These mails are almost always sent by the same old people every single time and it always goes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOWARD THIS MAIL TO:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 person- you will die the most horribly painful death and then be fed to hungry devil bulls with mad cow disease, AIDs, cancer, hepatitis A, B and C, tubercolosis, and a mild case of the chicken pox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 people- on your way home tomorrow a car will knock you down, then while you're sithering in pain on the road, you'll get run over by a van followed by a truck, an oil tanker and finally an airplane will land on you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 people- God might decide he wants you to live...But then he stops to think "hmm...wait a minute...why didn't this asshole send it out to 15 people, huh? HUH?..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 people- God decided you let to live...for now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25 people- God might think you worked hard enough for your crush to notice you exist, so don't go slacking now, we have to reach 50 people next time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today i got something different...but as annoying...really "cute" pictures of little kittens. Doing "cute" things like trying to climb out of a glass box, playing with a cotton ball, standing on it hind legs and combing its fur, swimming the backstroke with a swimsuit and a shower cap on sticking the middle finger to other swimmers in it path...aww!how sweet is that!!! IT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE FUCKING PUKING!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"if you foward this you're my friend"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gone are the days where we stood by friends through thin and thick, stand by his side through laughter and tear, support him during his darkest hour and share with him the golden moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we have to look at sickeningly cute little kittens and temporarily lose sanity looking at the images trying to foward the mail to 50 people so god might deem me fit to be smiled upon by my crush...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-112836321714593484?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112836321714593484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112836321714593484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/10/just-hate-those-chain-mails.html' title='JUST HATE THOSE CHAIN MAILS'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-112791946435919920</id><published>2005-09-28T02:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T14:50:31.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where's the macho man of the past?</title><content type='html'>METROSEXUAL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is an interesting word right? I never actually paid much attention to it till i was in poly, then i started to get the gist of what a metrosexual meant-loves shopping, loves wearing fashionable clothes, owns 36 pairs of shoes and won't be caught dead wearing the same underpants two days in a row.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why the word irritated me so much. But i knew it was going out of hand when i saw John Ho and i also knew somewhere out there a smart-ass little schmuck was drinking his latte and smiling and feeling very pleased with himself over the new word he invented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to know more before i took a swipe at the lunacy surrounding the phenomenon. And so i faithfully turned to the divine knowledge, the omniscient sage, the all knowing: GOOGLE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i found three very interesting definations&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A metrosexual is a clotheshorse wrapped around a dandy fused with a narcissist."&lt;br /&gt;"A young man concerned with self-image, self-indulgence and money."&lt;br /&gt;"A young man who is seen, sociologically, as having attributes common to homosexuals, but is in fact heterosexual. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting and disturbing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To break it down, metrosexuals are vain, egocentric fops who are are so wrapped up with the label on their clothing and gloss in their hair that if you were to scratch on the fine veneer of their moisturised skin, you'll find they have nothing to offer to society other than their youth and beauty and a generous amount of SK II under your fingernails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that said, you gotta give smart-ass little schmuck points for brevity. Although not as much for originality as there's already an existing phrase describing people like that for quite some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We call them "sissy bastards" and laugh when we see their excessively straightened backs sporting colourful shirts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, despite our general mockery and contempt, it seems like metrosexuals are gaining ascendency. With ambassadors such as Ben Affleck and David Beckham and Justin Timberlake, they're not a target for scorn anymore, now they've become objects of envy and desire. Its not just become cool, cool the way voting for PAP's opposition is cool, its become friggin requirement, requirement the way voting for PAP is a requirement, to get all dressed up and prance around like little ponies with these faggots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember watching/reading this article on girls in singapore, something like "are they misunderstood or are they lesbo" (not exactly that crude but...) Then i realised...hmm...argh!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should blame women for creating this new breed of man. They're the vanguards of fashion trends, they sport cool clothes to make guys notice them. And conversely, their effete counterparts follow their lead to try to impress them into bed. Ask most guys what they rather be doing if sex isn't an option i assure you both filth and sloth would make up a large share of the response.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another reason why women are to be blamed for the rise of metrosexuals is the latent bisexuality of a vast majority of women. Most women are now either bisexual or turned on by other women but are too squermish to give&lt;em&gt; it&lt;/em&gt; a try. Effete men are the next best thing to being lesbian. So these guys are in for the party of their lives until hopefully yet another dumb trend withers the way &lt;em&gt;hello Kitty&lt;/em&gt; went. Which is really unfair to maledom as we have to stoop to such low levels just to &lt;em&gt;get some&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And on a completely different note...i have gay jokes...original...tell me if they're any good...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;How do you fit four gay guys on a stool?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Turn it upside-down.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Did you hear about the gay malaysian politician?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He loved women...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Guess thats why they didn't want to sell us any more water&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;they wanted to know us how it feels to taste processed shit in our mouth.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-112791946435919920?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112791946435919920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112791946435919920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/09/wheres-macho-man-of-past.html' title='Where&apos;s the macho man of the past?'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-112741333286273947</id><published>2005-09-23T02:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-22T11:28:22.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>internet lingo</title><content type='html'>uve nvr tot tat it cud b so irrit8ting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've always wondered why i feel like i'm talking to a horse pounding on the keyboard with both hooves everytime i chat on MSN. Internet lingo is not short-forms being used effeciently, like say the word lingo here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;acronym-ing is the national past-time for Singaporeans and maybe that's why we've embraced the flawless system faster than it took to get PAP voted into parliament. Truly, given enough time, the country's decision makers could shorten anything before them, from the zeros in your bank account to the school holidays you have. And at the same time not forgetting to shorten the tongue-twister Tampines Expressway into TPE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Studies have been conducted and it shows a pattern that people of higher interllectual capabilities tended to abstain from using internet lingo like "il b l8", and often even backtrack to correct and grammatical and spelling mistakes they made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from the scientific element i've added in to back my thoughts, why do we sacrifice our intelligence for mere microseconds it takes to add and "e" in "be". This will effectively degenerate our already vulgar tongue and no amount of speak-good-english campaigns will be able to save us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So next time you decide to switch to having the grammatical accuracy of a hooved animal, think about the mere microseconds you're wasting over your brain cells committing suicide with the amount of rubbish being authored.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-112741333286273947?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112741333286273947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112741333286273947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/09/internet-lingo.html' title='internet lingo'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14665691.post-112724404075396817</id><published>2005-09-21T03:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-10T22:33:06.200-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random thoughts</title><content type='html'>friends come and go, but enemies keep coming and accumulating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7-days a week, 7 dwarves for snow-white...coincidence?...i think not...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ambition is for retards who doesn't have the common sense to to be lazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;procrastinating is like masturbating, its fun till you realise you just fucked yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;believing in inner-beauty just means you're either ugly or fat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/14665691-112724404075396817?l=dineshdayani.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112724404075396817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/14665691/posts/default/112724404075396817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dineshdayani.blogspot.com/2005/09/random-thoughts.html' title='Random thoughts'/><author><name>dinesh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09539031315532339453</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
