One Republic

Dudes, I have a new favourite band. One Republic. Honestly, at first I figured that they were just some small not so famous band that made an awesome song with Timbaland. However, confessing that I had to listen to bands with violins, or whatever to a certain friend, he immedeatly pointed me to One Republic. "Jo, I think you'll like One Republic."

Yes I did. Every song was either good or great; the last time that happened was in Switchfoot's The Beautiful Let Down. Normally I would only like a certain song from one Cd or three at most, the rest of the tracks just lost my attention, making it a chore to listen to them till I got to the next song. However, One Republic's music was wonderful, I found myself closing my eyes and enjoying every song. .

Their lyrics were so meaningfully framed in their passionate music. Instead of the same boring rant at the world or the torturously corny love songs from other bands, One Re's music was uplifting with substance to them, flowing from their experiences and humble beginnings as a Myspace band. Exactly the stuff to listen to if you're thinking about a beloved or loved one. Or if you're in a hard time needing a little bit of encouragement. One Republic gives that, in my opinion.

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Phew.

I am melting. I feel like a fish being steamed in a steaming cooker. Or whatever you call that wierd canister thingy that steams fish. Sweat is my constant companion at the moment and my body odour my own brand of cologne.

I smell disgusting. Originally, cologne used to be on my list of must have's next to facial hair and a godlike athletic body. However, after finding out the amount of dead grapes or whatever goes into the diabolical mixture to produce its wickedly seductive smells, I decided to decline. After all, witht the sad tear jerking sight of roses smashed and stepped on inhumanely and cruely, who would want to? Which leads to the question, how do I smell wonderful in such a catastrophically hot day?

Well! There are so many inventive and creative ways really. Way number one, my favourite would be to get a bunch of your pals two days in advance of a hot day! If it isn't a hot day, then; coffee? Hang out with them! Do stupid things together, however, do not, under any circumstances whatsoever, fall asleep. At night, go play waterballoons or slap each other with wet towels shirtless! They are fun! Just get creative! After two days, you should be so exhausted you'll fall asleep instantly and not wake up all during that cruel day of olfactory torture.

Become a girl. Somehow, for some wierd reason, when God created Adam and Eve, he made Eve smell nicer. Imagine Adam prancing completely naked about through the woods of Eden wrestling with the butterflies from morning to dusk. What a gorgeous scent he must have had. Then God was like, I'm going to give this dude a Woman, or this woman a man, or whatever you prefer. And Kazaam! Woman. Being Adam's helper, she's got to be stronger where Adam's a loser at. Therefore, hello awesome smelling hair! Honestly, its not fair! whenever guys leave a pile of used clothes on the floor, the smell radiating from it is a potent mixture of stale sweat, dead skin and that indescribably humid disgust. However, when a girl leaves her mess on the floor, it's a nice smelling mess. I took that from a mag by the way. I have never before, in my unspoilt teenage life, sniffed a girl's mess. (mess being bunch of clothes)

Or, you could just take very consistent showers. On a normal day, I take about three showers, four max, two minimum. That's so I'll be clean and nice smelling in school, fresh smelling at home and a knockout in my dreams. It usually works too! Unless I do something stupid in the middle of showers, like be myself.

So! Long story short! There is almost no way for me to escape the crushing smell of my very own. So, for my birthday, why don't you guys get me cologne that doesn't involve the killing of innocent grapes and flowers. Cause, grapes and flowers are living things too.

The Mall of my Mind.

There are so many things I want and want to learn. These things mostly bump around in my day dreams and sometimes manifest as hysterical delusions played out infront of my long suffering friends. Air Guitar face melter anyone?

Sigh, I'd love to learn how to play a guitar. Its a beautiful instrument with rich sound and gorgeous looks. Not only that, its fulfilling and relaxing to play an instrument you can sing with. Gosh, I want to pick it up.
Next on my list, an electric violin from fender. Wow. Seriously, this is what all electric violins should look like. Sleek, black and glossy. Normally, when this passes through my imaginations, I can see myself playing that gorgeous thing next to the electric guitarist in a glorious instrumental. The stage lit with a gazillion lights in the middle of a stadium surrounded by adoring masses. Right, back down to earth.

Next up, I'd love to get slim enough to fit into one of these and actually look good in them! However, being the wonderful health and excersise addict I am......... sigh, you know what... Just love me for myself okay? Who else can play unashamedly with his fats in the middle of History period? Not many.

I thought, wouldn't it be cool if i took up skateboarding? I actually went so far as to borrow a friend's board. As soon as my two feet were on the grip tape and those poly something wheels began rolling, I realised two things. 1) this was fun! 2) Jo+ four tiny wheels on a plank of wood= well, considering my almost autistic prowess of brain to limb coordination, I'll leave it to your colourful imaginations.

Finally.





Sigh. Honestly, I had no idea what all the hype about cars was. Had. Until I drove on a freeway, gosh; it was an exhilerating experience! Finally I understood what it was about about speed. Of course, one must always follow the rules of the road ( very innocent and sincere look) but imagine if there was no such thing as a car accident or a speed limit. Yeap, this one is planted firmly in the imaginations and daydreams department.

Well! I have lots that I want to do and lots that I want to have. There is no way a blog could cover everything. It might, but I'd be far too lazy to put everything in. All of these are wants, not needs and neither are they practical or profitable. But sigh, its awesome to imagine.

i want.

Jo.

Ok. dangerous to whine on my blog.

Ladies and Jellyspoons

Right, I was walkng past a mirror one day in my favourite white striped blue shirt with dark blue cotton pants. I had my favourite (only decent) pair of sneakers on. I realised as I walked past that infernal self consciouness amplifier that I had boobs! And a huge Boob which others would call a belly. My goodness, that was frightening, maybe it also had to do with the fact i just ate.

Its not fair though, why do some people stuff themselves as if the food they eat did actually exist but still retain their idiotic figures? How do I? With only two and a half meals per day, find himself with a gelatinous face growing on his Greecian example of male beauty. Sigh.

Yes, right now most of my friends would probably be thinking, go excersise! Diet! Well, as most of my friends are walking skeletons or specimens of immortal beauty, devoid of all human blemishes, and are able to stay that way whithout excesive self torture... :PPPPPPP. I give thee.... the raspberee..... (Atunagaga, go away)

Well, I mope. Its a good strategy though, all the shallow women would stay away from me. Sort of like the movie Penelope. Not only that, I'm one of the few guys who has the goods and the steeled courage to sing milkshake with his shirt off.

Fat is Phat!



(I wrote this late on an impulse)

The Day a Boy Becomes A Man

Amazing how the body reacts when its nervous. he heart races as uncomfortable adrenaline pulses through your veins and all sleepiness vanishes, leaving you very much scared and awake. Even though you feel very sleepy and tired. That was the night before.

Right now, I'm in the Kancil, the car actually seems decent. In fact, while waiting for the exam to begin I was entertained most of the time, mostly thanks to an Indian girl who unfortunately accelerated into the rear bumper of a chinese dude and partly thanks to the tense but friendly company around me. The instructors look completely the same, only this time, the one manningThe Slope was a very grumpy looking JPJ lady. Her frown never once left her face; thank God I didn't see her yet.

I checked the clutch level, it was fine, the steering was slightly assisted and the accelerator was standard. I promised myself I wouldn't scream or panick as a so embarrasingly did the last time.

A malay dude in sunglasses pointed at me and motioned me up The Slope, I left my nervousness and let my recklessness lift my foot of the cluth, then came my right foot down on the accelerator. As my car pulled up the slope, I was surprised at how little came through my mind aside from that fast raising tension to slam the brakes down. Half way up, the clutch went down and I let my Kancil slide forward. Now. It stopped.

Yes! I was perfectly on that yellow line! My prayers were half fulfilled! I pulled up the handbrake three times, as I looked hurriedly around the controls and signalled the the grouchy examiner. She was talking to another person! My foot slowly left the brake and my car creaked downwards ever so slightly. That was enough, I left my foot slightly on the brake. I looked to my left and noticed a fellow friend up the slope with me and we exchanged looks that conveyed my nearly relieved feeling and her troubled situation. I put my hand up again. The examiner finally noticed me and pointed down the slope. My car roared then purred as it struggled against the handbrake. I let it loose and it rolled uncomplainingly down The Slope. Yes! I have conquered you.

I released the clutch and let my car work its way over the the parking area of the exam. Suddenly, I heard a the sound of a pole being hit by a car. Not very pretty at all.

Parking went perfectly as well, thanks in most part to the formula subscribed by my intructor and many tense prayers. I worked fast, deftly switching between first gear and reverse and turned the steering wheel as strongly as I could. It was all over in about two minutes. The examiner motioned me off to the three point turn.

At that time, everything was pretty much going enjoyably pleasant. However, falling down at the end of a race doesn't qualify one for a medal. I refused to take things easy. Once again I worked the first and reverse gear and acted through the entire routine whithout problems.

It was satisfying, releaving and marvelous as I saw a not so grumpy JpJ lady tick off every "lulus" box and motioned me to sign. Yes, i've passed it all, from the scaling of mount everest with a monster to the precision of a brain surgery with a 700 pound scapel, I passed(indulge me lah!) It was the day a boy becomes a man. Now if only mom would let me drive.