Finals, thoughts and HOT POT

Its that time of the year again... to suffer one last bout of sleep deprivation, of caffeine saturation, of 2 weeks of muscle atrophy (minus the writing wrist which instead develops carpel tunnel syndrome) and start memorising everything in sight. Who said university life was different? I was a last minute monkey for my Os, for my Poly, even for my army's ISO audits... I thrive on panic, it makes me acquire the superpower I call "self-preservation". Next week, I am expected to hand up 2 assignments due for my general education courses (i.e. study this totally unrelated course so we can make more money -Love, UNSW) which I have completed. Ask me when I started on my core module subject's Lab report worth 10% of the grade and the answer would be the day before after dinner for 2 hours... and 2 hours before submission. I think I spend more time eating in a day than doing my Lab report (Yes mom... the GST Tax returns were frickin last minute too, almost killed a Melayu family driving down to Income House to submit it).

Ok, my thoughts are kinda boring cause only people who are close to me would know what I am talking about. I suggest you blog lurkers go straight to HOT POT: HOTTER THAN LINDSEY LOHAN WITH A LAMB CHOP as opposed to reading my crap.

I think I have changed fundamentally over the past 1/2 of the year, but it is just a shift in the right places to alter the original structure. By looking at it, you would never have noticed the change, only the result. Kinda like the rabbit in the hat where the rabbit was in the hat the whole freakin time but it needed someone to grab it and show it to everyone. The bigger question now is... are there any more rabbits in that hat?
Also, as the Roti club can attest to, I am generally very accepting of well... everything... Its a good thing from my point of view cause I dont wanna be the dude who suggests we goto orchard all the time cause I like to park there instead of some place in the urbs where they still *gasp* use parking coupons. Point being, my friends make me buy parking coupons. But I have found out something that cuts a little deeper than that, to accept what you cannot change no matter how much you want it to. My friends would generally acquiesce to my requests to goto orchard and even if they make me park at some Kampong Clementi carpark, I could always steal parking coupons from the chicken. But what if one day, they dont? Think of it in a greater magnitude and it becomes scary, parking coupons are just a pain.
I dont think I have become any more independent, smarter, mature or even insightful. I feel that these more relevant things have escaped me and frankly, I dont think I am ready to become the wise old uncle drinking coffee at S-11 telling the cleaning auntie to clean up the Bandung on the floor or else... I like being open to anything (except gay porn... I think I could never accept gay porn, apologies to da Gay Indian, "your legs are perfect, stop fluttering them around") and totally not set in my ways. I have likes and dislikes but I think I have not said no way for ever and ever to anything yet.
I have done things this year I need to analyze so bad (wait for it you greedy chicken, we will discuss this on the beach with some good alcohol) cause I cant make heads or tails of it and even after deciding to accept it, I guess I just need to embrace the concept rather than just accepting the fact.

Ok, shit I think is deep but is actually not is over... time for HOT POT: HOTTER THAN LINDSEY LOHAN WITH A LAMB CHOP!!!

So anyways, the temperture plummeted today to 9 freakin degrees and reminded me of the time I used to haul frozen burger king patties in a freezer called WLNA (warehouse logistics network asia). Basically, it reminded me of how much I needed to get something to counter the weather which previously used to be prata and curry. Luckily, the dudes at warrane were game for some hot hot hot hot pot!!! We bought the relevant stuff (a fuckload of lamb, a smaller fuckload of pork and korean chilli) and dumped it all in the pot. I dont recall exactly what happened in the middle cause I think I must have blacked out from all that eating but I recall that the college common room smelled like a cross between a slaughter house and a chilli padi farm when we finally hauled that last kilogram of quivering steaming BURNING lamb carcass outta that pot. If the fires of hell were as hot as that pot of hot pot, I think I might just convert right now to whatever religion is hip these days.

Note to self: I think I need to reduce my blog entries to a maximum of 2 points cause I sorta lose steam at the end and am reduced to saying: hot pot so hot its hotter than hot. hot hot hot, your girlfriend also not that hot!