<?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-2327320832747026307</id><updated>2011-10-21T06:25:41.761-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Aimless Life</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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>100</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-3824349264440873762</id><published>2011-10-01T03:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T03:28:49.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its a cruel world</title><content type='html'>There are two types of people in this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those that live in big houses, and people who cuts their lawns and wash their cars.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-3824349264440873762?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3824349264440873762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3824349264440873762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2011/10/cruel-world.html' title='Its a cruel world'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-25522015481492392</id><published>2011-09-20T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T08:55:47.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck Foreign Talent</title><content type='html'>Listen up all you fucking foreign talent assholes, I hope you die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm fucking pissed with these foreigners coming to our already shitty country and fucking up everything. Singapore is an already fucked up country with its bullshit 'world class' transport systems and rising costs. &lt;b&gt;WE DON'T NEED MORE FUCKED UP FOREIGN TALENT HERE.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of foreigners standing on the right side of escalators, talking loudly on the MRT, and acting like this is their goddamned country. And when I say foreigners, I fucking mean people from Japan, Korea, Cambodia, Bangladeshi, and especially people from China, Thailand and Vietnam. These are the people who come to Singapore on employment or student passes (who are even worse than PR's because they don't represent any ties to the country at all). Fuck you all. I don't care if you're from the Vietcong or something. I just hope you die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some cases of foreigners being a total nuisance to society:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Some stupid Thai kid who fell onto the train tracks and  lost both her legs. That dumbass purely deserved it... and instead of  apologising to all the commuters affected due to the delay from her  stupid publicity stint, she had the audacity &lt;b&gt;TO SUE SMRT USING MONEY  DONATED FROM SINGAPOREANS.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the fuck is going on here? For all I know, she could have deliberately planned this dumb act for a chance to cash in from donations and lawsuit (which failed). Bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Some asshole's body from China was found in half in the waters of Bedok reservoir. If they're not on our trains talking like they own this country, or fighting with their customers for taking more chilli sauce, they're polluting our waters and wasting unnecessary resources and taxpayers money &lt;b&gt;WHICH MEANS WE ARE INDIRECTLY&amp;nbsp; HELPING TO CLEAN UP YOUR BULLSHIT MESS. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Another dumbass China kid found dead at the back of an Internet cafe somewhere in Geylang. Pissing away his time loitering at Internet cafes, stealing from others to fund his gaming habit and causing a nuisance to society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that made me feel better after reading the article was that he was killed by his own fellow Chinese nationals. Way to go assholes, you just proved how stupid and pathetic your kind are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the other day, I pledged to do my part in getting rid of these social parasites by not offering help to foreigners when I see &lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;one. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;An example would be to witness a foreigner being the victim of [snatch theft/car accident/fire/drowning/seizure/heart attack/molest/rape/] and then pretend not to see it and not render and help or assistance. By doing so, I hope everyone will follow my pledge to get rid of all these fucking pests in our society.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;MESSAGE TO ALL FOREIGN TALENTS: Go back to where you came from or just die.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fucking bitches.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-25522015481492392?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/25522015481492392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/25522015481492392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2011/09/fuck-foreign-talent.html' title='Fuck Foreign Talent'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-8321549193154898378</id><published>2011-08-03T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T10:26:41.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck happy things</title><content type='html'>Everywhere I go, and everyone I see are smiling and being happy. Fuck you all. I hate happy people not giving a shit with their carefree lives. Bullshit assholes pissing me off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-8321549193154898378?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8321549193154898378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8321549193154898378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2011/08/fuck-happy-things.html' title='Fuck happy things'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-2850485654721404275</id><published>2011-06-12T01:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-12T02:00:52.539-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People who use the term 'nemo' are retards.</title><content type='html'>It amuses me that people are still so damn stupid these days, even with the help of advancing technology where you can search anything, anywhere, at anytime. And yet I always encounter stupid bimbotic idiots who don't think before they speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week I set up a freshwater&amp;nbsp;planted aquarium at my office desk and this retarded colleague told me to put a 'nemo' inside. When I explained that 'nemos' only live in saltwater, she said she didn't care and wanted to put&amp;nbsp;in a fucking&amp;nbsp;'nemo'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what's up with people referring to false percula clownfishes as 'nemo'. Now why don't I see people referring all cats as Garfield or calling every dog Snoopy?&amp;nbsp;Fucktards. These are the&amp;nbsp;idiots that drive me up the wall and fucking pisses me off, insulting my intellect just by listening to their bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the fuck is wrong with these people? Are they ignorant or just a plain stupid dumbass? Assuming that freshwater fish and saltwater fish are the same is like saying a duck is a chicken. Yes, both may be birds (at least you got something right asshole) but a duck is not a chicken, and freshwater fish are not 'nemos'! Fuck off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it&amp;nbsp;doesn't make you any smarter just because you're pursuing a part time degree course,&amp;nbsp; you idiot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-2850485654721404275?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2850485654721404275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2850485654721404275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2011/06/people-who-use-term-nemo-are-retards.html' title='People who use the term &apos;nemo&apos; are retards.'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-6877564188716911197</id><published>2011-06-11T07:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-11T07:40:20.162-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update of an update.</title><content type='html'>This is an update to show that this blog is still alive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-6877564188716911197?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6877564188716911197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6877564188716911197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2011/06/update-of-update.html' title='Update of an update.'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-3638128496562397636</id><published>2011-04-19T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T07:26:08.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>VOTE WISELY</title><content type='html'>It's been awhile since I've updated and I wouldn't be updating at all if not for those motherfuckers who think they got it all right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;YOU GOT IT WRONG, DUMBASS.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;When asked for their opinions, they're quick to defend their cause by spewing shit from their mouths like a motherfucking ape. When asked why they would stick to one party, I get replies like because that party is good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Use your brains dammit, I may not be some expert on politics, but I do know when I'm being treated like a dipshit in this never ending bullshit society we live in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;ASK YOURSELF. DID ANYTHING GOOD EVER HAPPENED IN THE LAST 4 YEARS?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;If you had to stop and think, the answer is no and you're obviously one of those blind followers &lt;b&gt;BECAUSE NOTHING GOOD DID HAPPENED AT ALL. &lt;/b&gt;I just happened to know that I'm paying more for shit now than before.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;Fares have increased and the soya bean drink I always buy has gone up by 10 cents (even though I see no significant change in the quantity of the drink). What the fuck is going on here. I've decided to come up with a list of reasons that have made life seem like a pain in the ass for me. Some of them have little or no relation to them but I'll still put the blame on them anyway. Suckers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;1. COE prices have gone out of control&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;2. 'Affordable' HDB flats&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;3. Increasing transportation fares&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;4. High cost of petrol &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;5. Increasing petrol prices&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;6. More and more foreign talents in the country&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;7. Increasing taxes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;8. Increased retirement age limit&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;9. Increasing ERP rates&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;10. NO INCREASE OF SALARY &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;This 10 points are straight off my head... I bet I can think of a lot more but I'm really tired.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;Until these 10 points can be justified to me, I won't be supporting them anytime soon. Bitches.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: red;"&gt;DON'T BE A SHEEP. VOTE WISELY PEOPLE. OTHERWISE YOU ARE AN ASSHOLE.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-3638128496562397636?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3638128496562397636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3638128496562397636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2011/04/vote-wisely.html' title='VOTE WISELY'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-6281690814390419007</id><published>2011-01-18T05:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T05:52:46.962-08:00</updated><title type='text'>End of the Road</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;Dead end for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of us were given a chance to study since young, but some fucked it up and played the fool. Living their lives so carefree and without responsibilities, not caring about their future, poking fun of, laughing and looking down at those 'nerds or losers' who actually gave a shit about education.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when these 'nerds or losers' eventually get better than them (they always do), they begin to realise what they've lost and what they fuck they have been doing all this while, and where will they be in 5 years time. But its too late to regret now, the 'nerds and losers' they made fun of will always be better and above them, and there's nothing they can do about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-6281690814390419007?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6281690814390419007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6281690814390419007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2011/01/end-of-road.html' title='End of the Road'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-8560453402582930123</id><published>2011-01-01T07:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T03:37:04.381-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TALK ONLY NO ACT?</title><content type='html'>If you're going to announce that you'll &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;'beat you all'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; in 2011, you'd better be ready to take on any challenges from anyone or when questioned. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your definition of 'beat' seems too vague. Not only did you reply to save self humiliation, but you prevented me from replying back by blocking me. Well done, it seems like an act of a coward. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt, so I took the liberty to call but there was no answer. I messaged, but got no reply. Look who's the one who &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;'talk only no act'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; now? Chicken shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yawn... Next.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-8560453402582930123?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8560453402582930123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8560453402582930123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2011/01/talk-only-no-act.html' title='TALK ONLY NO ACT?'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-3959443167069357897</id><published>2010-12-29T08:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T09:07:06.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I must be dreaming.</title><content type='html'>This is fucking incredible, I mean, how fucking pathetic can one be? Apparently, it seems. To ASSUME that you’re the only air stewardess with ITE qualification that I know, fucking unbelievable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No surprise, coming from someone with similar ITE qualifications.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://divulge-me-inside.blogspot.com/2010/12/thanks-for-feedback.html"&gt;See the full entry HERE &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since you started it, let’s begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Everyone has their own point of view, so if you're unhappy about the thoughts of others, you can just jolly well not view anything that links to them.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing beats an angry woman with a glaring contradiction slapping herself right in the face. Nobody forced you to read my blog in the first place, so if you’re unhappy about my thoughts, jolly well not view anything and STAY THE FUCK OFF THIS PAGE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;You can simply delete the person. Save the trouble. Do yourself a favour there. Simple as that.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Done. And blocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Maybe cus there's some injustice along the line that a ITE graduate like me draws home a relatively higher pay.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, your assumption that you’re drawing a “relatively higher pay” here is incorrect. There’s a reason why people like me fucking work part time on weekends despite already having a decent paycheck on my full time job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m sure this extra income allows me to pay my mobile phone bills, and also provide me with enough change to pay to use the toilet. And not just because I am jealous, giving me NO REASON AT ALL TO FEEL ANY INJUSTICE since I can easily earn way MORE than you will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE TRUTH IS OUT PEOPLE. I FUCKING WORK PART TIME ON WEEKENDS AS A PIZZA DELIVERY RIDER, AND I STILL DO NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While people like you are having fun fucking around with their lives, fooling around, partying, and getting themselves drunk, I spent my days BUSTING MY FUCKING ASS THROUGH SCHOOL, working part time while studying full time. While some of my classmates have the weekends to catch up on school work, projects and assignments, I BUST MY ASS WORKING 13 HOUR SHIFTS, and yet never once failed any module or exam during my entire DEGREE course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Compared to someone who failed DIP first semester Mathematics. Hah. What basis do you have to look down on me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;or made fun of you in any ways before?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’d better think hard on this one. You belong to the same list of people as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Calling me names like domestic servants/ glorified high flying cleaners.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this coming from the same person who was quick to degrade her own profession some time ago. Contradiction number 2. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2010/08/so-youre-flight-attendant-big-deal.html"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;So do you feel great now making fun of people/ me? what have you gain from it? does it feed your ego now? do you feel like a better man now?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels fucking great, thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;To come to this level, to make fun of me. Do you feel elated? On top of the world? Why go through so much just to make fun of me?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It stings, I know, glad I’m not the only one who experienced it. Have you ever once stop to think before you made fun of others?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The reason why I wrote this entry, yes, I am affected. And yes, I'm finally reacting. Yes, you're making me feel like shit.Yes, you've got better brains than me, yes you're a graduate that can draw much higher pay than me, yes you can get your own transport, and then? what's next?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it’ll take awhile to soak in the truth. When realism strikes you hard, it hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Since you're seeking revenge, why not do it straight into my face?. Hurt me and see me cry, won't it make you feel better?&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing you cry doesn’t solve anything, making you feel stupid and inferior, does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to thank you though, that people like you made me enlightened, and see life in a newer perspective. People I once thought were friends were the ones who were actually looking down on me all along, laughing at me, making jokes about me and such. Never did you expect me to wait for the chance to retaliate back, did you? And when I do, I’ll retaliate hard, and I do bear grudges. I’m on the dark side now asshole, mark my words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, you’re the one who’s “high up” and “at the top of the world”, at 30,000 feet in the air, no less. I’d better be careful with who I’m dealing with here. I’m just a pizza delivery boy, whereas you’re a high and mighty flight attendant. I’m definitely out of your league.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-3959443167069357897?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3959443167069357897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3959443167069357897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-must-be-dreaming_29.html' title='I must be dreaming.'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-4166005095789090233</id><published>2010-12-23T04:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T04:09:02.445-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Revenge</title><content type='html'>You look fucking pathetic. Stop posting those attention seeking pictures. Do everyone a favour, please. You're already ugly, stop degrading yourself further. Look down on me? Lets see who's looking down on who now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You only have an ITE qualification. Air stewardess? Big deal. You're not even in my league.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-4166005095789090233?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4166005095789090233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4166005095789090233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2010/12/revenge.html' title='Revenge'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-7938658463402668489</id><published>2010-12-20T08:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T08:07:47.762-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My new ride</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is what I got for myself this XMAS.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/TQ9-5PTALJI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/f00DUADR0Sw/s1600/XLR200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/TQ9-5PTALJI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/f00DUADR0Sw/s400/XLR200.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Time to go on a road rage rampage soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My laptop is down again... Till the next update, bitches!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-7938658463402668489?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/7938658463402668489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/7938658463402668489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-new-ride.html' title='My new ride'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/TQ9-5PTALJI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/f00DUADR0Sw/s72-c/XLR200.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-7755752271965848128</id><published>2010-10-28T09:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T09:34:03.872-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The dark side.</title><content type='html'>People assume that I'm easily taken advantage of, and they all take me for granted. Fuck you all. I swear I'll have my revenge someday. Lets bet on it, bitch! I don't need friends, I need money. Money will make me more powerful and respected than you'll ever be. Too bad you bitches don't have the right qualifications to improve yourselves, and one day I'll climb much much higher and you'll regret that you looked down on me before. Don't take my kindness and ignorance as a sign of acceptance and submission, assholes. Just wait and see. I'll be better than you all. I've joined the dark side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-7755752271965848128?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/7755752271965848128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/7755752271965848128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2010/10/dark-side.html' title='The dark side.'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-7656548377504662594</id><published>2010-10-01T10:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T10:37:03.718-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Serves you right asshole, when will you retards ever learn?</title><content type='html'>Just the other day I saw one of those roadies aka (dumbass cyclists on the road) from afar veering off too near to the road kerb, and ended up crashing and planting his face onto the hard, rough road tarmac. But did I stop to help? Not at all. Serves him right. I didn't know what happened afterwards but I was traveling back on the opposite direction and saw an ambulance and several traffic police vehicles. I think he got hit by a truck or something, I'm not too sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't get it. When do they ever learn? That cycling on the road is like swimming in shark infested waters, and when they get attacked, they blame it on the sharks. To that retarded cyclist, whoever you are, you deserve it. You're lucky if you aren't dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I dreamt it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-7656548377504662594?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/7656548377504662594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/7656548377504662594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2010/10/serves-you-right-asshole-when-will-you.html' title='Serves you right asshole, when will you retards ever learn?'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-2609152646975532782</id><published>2010-08-26T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-27T10:19:09.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So you're a flight attendant. Big deal, bitch!</title><content type='html'>Recently, there was a newspaper article regarding flight attendants seen smoking publicly at the airport. The purpose of the article was to explain that flight attendants smoking in public portrays a negative trait on the image of not only the airline company and country, but also on the profession on the whole. What really sparked my anger and made me see blood was that today, a line of flight attendants were at the arrival hall smoking like a bunch of loose bitches (aka ah lians).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't people aware of their conscious anymore? Don't they have respect for themselves anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I did some research on the subject and I got way more than what I've expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone I know, a real flight attendant, has this to say in response to that article on her blog (it has since been removed but I managed to retrieve it). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;" It's pretty ridiculous of the recent saga spamming all over the news about the flight attendants being seen smoking at the airport. Give these people a break will you?, it's pretty ridiculous to have nothing better to do in their lives than to post up such pictures in stomp and in actual fact that bugger is a smoker himself. Flight attendants are afterall HUMAN. Cut some slack. Doing long hauls &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;ain't that easy. It's not as if they broke a law or something. After a long day of serving, and what not, a puff doesn't kill does it? Typical Singaporeans. I'm embarrassed to be known as one sometimes. It's because of people like them that makes Singapore " a better place.." NOT. "&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only do they not respect their own profession, but they actually think that they are right! While it remains unclear whether the airline actually have rules against their flight attendants smoking in public, another flight attendant have claimed that smoking is not permitted at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;"No smoking in uniform, though you will find many bad examples at T3 arrival pick-up point. Look at it this way, you represent the Singapore Girl, an icon more recognized than, say, Zoe or Fann, or maybe even some Hollywood stars. People see a stewardess in the signature kebaya and go "That's one of the best airlines in the world~" ..... Whatever it is, the uniform attracts attention. So be prepared to upkeep your decorum AT ALL TIMES. And seeing a SQ crew smoke in uniform is not one of it. I fell victim to it for a couple of months. Later on, I realized that a stewardess smoking in uniform resembles painfully like those Shanghai hookers in cheongsam in the 30s. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: blue;"&gt;Anyway, just don't smoke la."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Source:&lt;br /&gt;http://thatsilvergirl.blogspot.com/2010/03/sia-interview.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When was the last time you called the police, only to have them appear in their patrol car with windows winded down with cigarettes between their fingers? Or how about seeing your secondary school teacher taking a puff at the bus stop outside school? Have you ever seen your neighbourhood MP sitting at your nearest coffee shop drinking beer and smoking, while watching the EPL? They are after all, humans too, right dumbass?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;USE YOUR FUCKING BRAINS DAMMIT. IF YOU'RE TOO STUPID AND COCKY TO ACTUALLY TAKE PRIDE IN YOUR PROFESSION, THEN YOU DON'T DESERVE TO BE ONE IN THE FIRST PLACE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flight attendants used to leave a glamourous and high-class impression amongst anybody. Mention the phase 'I'm an air stewardess' back in the 80's and you'll have people who highly respect and acknowledge it as true profession and career. Not anymore. Truthfully, flight attendants nowadays are mostly just all beauty (or lack thereof), thick makeup, and no brains. Most of them have low education levels, and don't even have a diploma. Losers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked a highly respected friend of mine of his fair and unbiased opinion on the matter. Based on his knowledge, and what his relatives proclaim, (he has a few relatives working in the airline industry - pilots, flight engineers, flight attendants, catering supervisor etc) was that flight attendants are just glorified high flying cleaners/servants who are not so different from domestic servants, but think they belong to the high class society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't agree more. Do you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-2609152646975532782?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2609152646975532782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2609152646975532782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2010/08/so-youre-flight-attendant-big-deal.html' title='So you&apos;re a flight attendant. Big deal, bitch!'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-3515343736744370576</id><published>2010-08-02T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T11:35:08.647-07:00</updated><title type='text'>YOG? WHO GIVES A SHIT.</title><content type='html'>Would someone just give me a reason why the hell I should care about the Youth Olympic Games? Why the fuck should I give a shit? What next, Youth World Cup? Give me a break and stop all this bullshit about the YOG. I DON'T FUCKING CARE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sports is just a waste of time. I hope all those athletes die or something. Oh, and here's another thing. They started painting YOG symbols on the roads, indicating that we motorists should give way to YOG personnel. NO FUCKING WAY WOULD I COMPLY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, the YOG buses are not emergency vehicles.&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, why should I give way?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've paid my share of road tax, so I deserve my share of the road. Why the fuck should I give way to YOG? Idiots. Fuck all of them I say. And nobody cares about the damn torch. Its stupid. The only positive possible outcome from it is that someone drops the damn thing and alight them self on fire. Then I'll at least give a shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-3515343736744370576?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3515343736744370576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3515343736744370576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2010/08/yog-who-gives-shit.html' title='YOG? WHO GIVES A SHIT.'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-1770825779548579177</id><published>2010-06-28T09:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T10:03:09.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'>People who watch soccer are losers</title><content type='html'>Just the other day someone asked me who will win tonight's Germany vs England match. Fucking assuming that everyone shares a common interest and like to talk about something stupid like soccer. Bitches. Just another bunch of losers in my list. It never ends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this bullshit about soccer only makes me conclude one thing: that guys who like watching other guys play sports are gay. Say whatever you like otherwise, but the fact is true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck off and stay away. You want to watch, watch at your own pleasure. Leave me the fuck alone with your stupid comments or questionnaires. Get a life you all. People who watch soccer and I have nothing in common.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-1770825779548579177?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1770825779548579177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1770825779548579177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2010/06/people-who-watch-soccer-are-losers.html' title='People who watch soccer are losers'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-4534996198886089013</id><published>2010-06-19T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-19T11:53:07.218-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Think you're better than me? Just fucking wait.</title><content type='html'>After spending the last 48 hours rushing for a project presentation, finishing up 70  page long report, working through the night to make it in time for the deadline, I'm faced with severe fatigue. To add further insult to injury one of the group members had the atrocity to give a lackluster effort of the task assigned in order to catch a fucking movie while the rest of us stayed up with our thumbs in our asses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that just to get fucked and slaughtered during the presentation. Dumb retarded bitch. If only we had a team where everyone actually did some real work, we would have a produced a piece of work that wasn't pure shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm fucking pissed. Then I logged on into Facebook and the first thing I see are comments from people like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'An exhausting day..physical n mentally drained..'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who gives a shit really how exhausting your day is? Like I'm not exhausted? Do you really think you're more exhausted than I am by posting this shit? I ain't bitching, so why should you for fucks sake?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I see are people posting all their happy pictures, bragging about their daily activities, breakfast at Coffee Bean or Starbucks, lunch at [insert expensive restaurant], followed by shopping at town and a list of stupid shit they bought like branded bags and shoes. Fuck you all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fucking hate people with their happy lives as though they are better than me, looking down on me like a packed rat. Modifying their cars and dreaming about adding new shitty rims like it makes their already shitty cheap cars any powerful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While people like me are studying for higher qualifications, they think they're a big shits just because they got a 2k a month job. These are the people with ITE or diploma qualifications working as some office staff, stupid insurance or real estate agents and think they have it all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If they'd even have a fucking degree &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;AND&lt;/span&gt; earn more than 3k a month, then I'll at least give a shit and shut the fuck up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck all you assholes. Just fucking wait. I'm sure that I'll make more money and be more successful, and we'll see who will look down on who. I'm tired of all this stupid crap and its my turn now to retaliate. The tables will turn assholes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't need friends. I don't need family. Money is the only thing I need. Money will make me king. Money will make me better than you. Just fucking wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throw away your cheap shitty Japanese cars with stupid modifications that make you think you look rich. How does it like to know that one day, your monthly paycheck is not even enough to pay for my monthly car installments, bitch?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just fucking wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-4534996198886089013?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4534996198886089013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4534996198886089013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2010/06/think-youre-better-than-me-just-fucking.html' title='Think you&apos;re better than me? Just fucking wait.'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-585163575347430727</id><published>2010-04-14T08:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T11:48:26.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Attention all cyclists</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-family: arial;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CMARKLE%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="Street"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="address"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt; 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 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;ATTENTION ALL CYCLISTS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;IF YOU RIDE THIS:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: left;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S8Xk3b4MWJI/AAAAAAAAAzc/yntgt1TQdQU/s1600/Roadbike.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 263px; height: 207px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S8Xk3b4MWJI/AAAAAAAAAzc/yntgt1TQdQU/s320/Roadbike.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460021764283979922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I HOPE YOU GET BANGED DOWN BY THIS:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S8XmOfQuIPI/AAAAAAAAAzk/AtcEO9UzoUY/s1600/SBS.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S8XmOfQuIPI/AAAAAAAAAzk/AtcEO9UzoUY/s320/SBS.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460023259840782578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I think I’ve made myself totally clear. Cyclists are not to be allowed on roads, period. The next time some smart ass cyclist tries to occupy more than one quarter of the left lane, I’m going to knock him down with my vehicle. Why? Because its not worth risking trying to overtake him and getting knocked down by the car in the next lane. I’m getting really tired with these whining asshole cyclists who think they have rights to something they don’t, like cycling on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Cyclists are social parasites who think they have it all, occupying the roads as though they are motor vehicles, and they deserved to be killed.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; ITS CALLED A ROAD FOR A FUCKING REASON, NOT A GODAMN TRACK. ALL YOU PANSY CYCLISTS GO GET BENT ALREADY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Who do they think they are anyway, demanding rights to the road, and then when they get knocked down, they blame it on the motorists? Recently the newspaper had this article about some ghost bike crap and I’m surprised its still there when I rode past it today from school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p face="arial" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S8XpJrF1FWI/AAAAAAAAAzs/2gWmVcgqW58/s1600/GhostBike.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 160px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S8XpJrF1FWI/AAAAAAAAAzs/2gWmVcgqW58/s320/GhostBike.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460026475651863906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah yeah, blame it on the drunk driver who knocked them down like bowling pins, but the accident happened because they were riding on the road in the first place. If they weren’t, none of these would have happened, dipshits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Motorists risk their lives whenever they are on the roads, drunk driver or no drunk driver, and I don’t see them being cry baby pussies about it when an accident happens and someone gets killed. So why the hell are these fucking cyclists making such a big fuss and protesting about making the roads safe for cyclists? You want to ride on the road, that’s your problem, accept the risks and don’t bitch about it when you get hit, because the fucking road is not meant for hazards like you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;10 REASONS WHY ROADS ARE NOT MEANT FOR CYCLISTS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1.    CYCLISTS DO NOT PAY ROAD TAX&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;If motorists are required to pay to use the roads, why the hell aren’t cyclists made to pay for it as well? THE CAT IS OUT OF THE BAG ASSHOLES. If you bitches insist rights to use the road, then be fucking prepared to pay up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2.    CYCLISTS DO NOT PAY FOR ERP CHARGES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The reason for the implementation of ERP is that certain roads get congested, and that ERP is a way to solve the problem to prevent congestion and slow moving traffic. How ironic is that cyclists get away with ERP and cause congestion and slow moving traffic. What the fuck is going on here. Want to use the roads, pay up like everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3.    CYCLISTS DO NOT KEEP UP WITH THE SPEED LIMIT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="arial" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.5in; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S8XrTk9Kb-I/AAAAAAAAA0E/_7FrdmKSUSU/s1600/SpeedLimit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 160px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S8XrTk9Kb-I/AAAAAAAAA0E/_7FrdmKSUSU/s320/SpeedLimit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460028844826849250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Take a look at the road’s speed limit. No cyclist can hit 50km/h constant on a bicycle for a length of say 1km, without the help of an incline. Bitches. The legal speed limit is 50km/h and not less. The basic theory handbook states that vehicles are not to exceed (speed) and  keep within the limit which means &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NOT ANY LESSER OR THEY WILL BE CONSIDERED AS ROAD HOGGING. &lt;/span&gt;Which brings me to my next point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4.    NOT ALL CYCLISTS HAVE TAKEN THE BASIC THEORY TEST&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Its really contradicting that motorists have to take the basic theory test before they can start riding or driving on the roads, so why the double standard? I’m sure that any cyclist without a driving license would even know what to do when they see this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p face="arial" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S8XqGF6ZTZI/AAAAAAAAAz8/9_mzMNVRPVg/s1600/TP+handsign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S8XqGF6ZTZI/AAAAAAAAAz8/9_mzMNVRPVg/s320/TP+handsign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460027513643814290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cyclist 1: Holy shit, what the hell is that man saying?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cyclist 2: Just ride on, we're bicycles not cars remember, those instructions are for vehicles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Idiots. They deserve to be killed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5.    ROAD SIGNS ARE NOT MEANT FOR CYCLISTS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S8Xp7X234DI/AAAAAAAAAz0/R5lVeNDJw5I/s1600/No+overtaking.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S8Xp7X234DI/AAAAAAAAAz0/R5lVeNDJw5I/s320/No+overtaking.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460027329482317874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I don’t see any bicycles in this sign, retards.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6.    CYCLISTS DON’T HAVE INSURANCES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;It is mandatory for all motorists to have insurances before they are allowed to be on the roads. What makes cyclists so special that they can forgo on this? So suddenly all cyclists are immune and don’t cause accidents? What if some cyclist bangs me from behind and my vehicle is damaged? Does that mean they are let off the hook? FUCKING BITCH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7.    ALL BICYCLES DO NOT HAVE ESSENTIAL DEVICES LIKE SIGNAL LIGHTS, SIDE VIEW MIRRORS, HORNS, IU OR LICENCE PLATE NUMBERS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Its bad enough that bicycles don't have signal lights to indicate when they're going to overtake other cyclists, or side mirrors to look out for traffic before overtaking. BUT HOLY SHIT NO LICENCE PLATES?!? I’ve got a good mind to remove mine and go on a rampage knocking down cyclists. Why should I display mine when they don’t? Lets make hit and run the new road trend shall we, because I think we should all look at it in a fairer perspective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8.    NOT ALL CYCLISTS WEAR HELMETS, AND IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY DIFFERENCE EVEN IF THEY DO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Motorcyclists wearing CERTIFIED motorbike helmets get killed, so what makes the bicycle styrofoam helmet any use at all? Unless they start wearing motorbike helmets, then at least I’ll give a shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9.    BICYCLES ARE NOT ALLOWED ON EXPRESSWAYS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Why are cyclists not allowed on expressways, if they have rights to use the roads? I’m sure anyone who reads this will be laughing at how stupid I am not to know the obvious answer that is because the speed limit on expressways are greater. FUCK YOU. Doesn’t make any sense at all. Not all normal roads have a 50km/h speed limit bitch. The fastest I’ve seen so far are 70km/h. The speed limit on expressways are 90km/h. The difference of 20km/h is insignificant. Don’t believe me? Try driving a vehicle at 20km/h. How fucking fast is that? Not fucking fast to make any significance at all. I’m always right. I win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10.    CYCLING ON THE ROAD IS STUPID&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;          Enough said.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;FUCK ALL YOU CYCLISTS.&lt;/span&gt; You want to cycle, go to a fucking cycling track like East Coast or some shit. LTA has built a new cycling track on Changi Coast Road and I still see those smartass cyclists riding on the road instead. The government spent millions building a cycling track from Tampines to Pasir Ris, all for what? Skateboarding? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there are endless comments on the news papers about respecting cyclists, and ideas about proposing cycling lanes where motorists share the roads with cyclists. Dream on bitches. LTA is not going to waste their resources building stupid cycling lanes on the already congested narrow roads so go fuck yourself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p  style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-585163575347430727?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/585163575347430727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/585163575347430727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2010/04/normal-0-false-false-false.html' title='Attention all cyclists'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S8Xk3b4MWJI/AAAAAAAAAzc/yntgt1TQdQU/s72-c/Roadbike.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-3198541697461736890</id><published>2010-02-06T00:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T10:50:28.482-08:00</updated><title type='text'>14 Blades up your ass.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S201Mj1KwLI/AAAAAAAAAzE/GwADVmImZKI/s1600-h/14Blades.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 193px; height: 270px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S201Mj1KwLI/AAAAAAAAAzE/GwADVmImZKI/s320/14Blades.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435058815199002802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was tricked into watching this retarded movie called 14 Blades the other night. This is the first movie that I've watched this year that sucked shit and I hereby crown it worst movie of 2010 even though its only the start of February. Why this movie sucked:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. MOVIE TITLE HAD NO RELATION WITH THE MOVIE AT ALL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first major flaw to this shit hole is the title  - 14 Blades.  One might think that a movie called 'The Car' would be entirely based on some super car or racing, but THIS MOVIE HAD NO RELATION TO ANY SWORD OR BLADE OR WHATEVER. Just another stupid ploy to scam viewers into watching some 'cool' sounding movie name. Fucking retarded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have sworn I saw this guy  sitting two rows down holding what looked like a banana at first but I soon discovered it was shit, and he was sucking it for the entire movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S20wqzoUzYI/AAAAAAAAAy0/vRWzpa_prsQ/s1600-h/BananaShit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 262px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S20wqzoUzYI/AAAAAAAAAy0/vRWzpa_prsQ/s320/BananaShit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435053837278039426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. LAMEASS CHARACTERS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie had stupid lame characters, one which featured this guy acting like some badass (he's in fact a retard) who called himself King of the Desert or some stupid name I can't remember, and then committed suicide for no apparent purpose at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S20xzjb2OTI/AAAAAAAAAy8/3SCGLvn09HQ/s1600-h/RetardedDumbass.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 228px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S20xzjb2OTI/AAAAAAAAAy8/3SCGLvn09HQ/s320/RetardedDumbass.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435055087061186866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Stupidity reward goes to dumbass: King of the Desert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Another lame character was the evil villain who was this girl with a unibrow. How appealing. She could teleport like nobody's business like some swinging monkey on a tree. Woo, the suspense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S208lxUuC2I/AAAAAAAAAzM/To71KS0vmZg/s1600-h/Lameass.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 209px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S208lxUuC2I/AAAAAAAAAzM/To71KS0vmZg/s320/Lameass.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435066944899124066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The unibrow makes her a dumbass, permanently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. UNREALISTIC EFFECTS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This scene had dumbass shooting arrows at the imperial guards, which had the same effect of a real 120MM Mortar impact. I know Hollywood with their special effects make the movie more exciting with explosions and stuff, but when do you draw the line? The Chinese did not have such technology at that time (all they had was gunpowder which needed an ignition source to ignite). Might as well build a fucking tiger tank and ram it into the palace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop insulting my intellgence. Please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. WEAK TRANSITION SCENES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not forgetting weak transition scenes including this scene that showed the lead actor looking at a woman in deep sleep and then suddenly the scene changes, showing her waiting for him on a horse in a canyon. Then the scene suddenly jumped to a finale battle inside some temple without even showing how both the hero and arch nemesis got there. What the fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This movie is purely retared. I shan't say more.&lt;br /&gt;Rating 2/5.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-3198541697461736890?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3198541697461736890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3198541697461736890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2010/02/14-blades-up-your-ass.html' title='14 Blades up your ass.'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/S201Mj1KwLI/AAAAAAAAAzE/GwADVmImZKI/s72-c/14Blades.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-1447671809922386598</id><published>2010-01-18T08:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T19:11:54.832-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nobody cares about your New Year's resolutions</title><content type='html'>I'm getting tired of having to hear about people and their New Year's resolutions. Who cares? Why should I even care, when it doesn't even directly affect me at all? People who have New Year's resolutions go about telling people that they're going to change and improve. It never ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're often insecure and have no control of their lives, writing down their resolutions in a list like a lameass. You want to change? Then do it already you fucks, without having the need for some checklist to reassure yourself what you need to do. I don't get it. Whats the point? Saying out aloud that you're going on a diet, indirectly letting everyone know because you feel insecure, and that we give a shit. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TELL ME, HOW DOES YOU LOSING WEIGHT AFFECT ME AT ALL? THINK ABOUT IT WILL YOU?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so pissed now that I punched some random guy tooth's out of his mouth, before he could start bitching about his resolutions. HAH. People should just learn to shut the fuck up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-1447671809922386598?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1447671809922386598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1447671809922386598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2010/01/nobody-cares-about-your-new-years.html' title='Nobody cares about your New Year&apos;s resolutions'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-6874581878879569860</id><published>2009-12-31T10:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T18:22:37.798-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How a 5cent SMS determines if you're a dipshit or not.</title><content type='html'>Its almost 3am on now and I'm still receiving &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SMS's&lt;/span&gt; from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dipshits&lt;/span&gt; with their new year's wishing. Here's an example of an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;SMS&lt;/span&gt; I received from one of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;dipshits&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;' A brand new year, a new start, wishing you good luck in the coming year. '&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you mean by a brand new start? Just because its a new year, so I should have a new start? Make some sense would you, before you start sending your bitching tasteless messages just to show people that you really do give a fuck about everyone in your phonebook. And wishing me good luck for the year? Last year I had some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;dipshit&lt;/span&gt; sent me a new year's greeting with similar content and I didn't even struck it rich from the lottery. Where's my good luck now, asshole? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Thats&lt;/span&gt; the problem with people. They don't think before coming up with shitty phrases just because it sounds pleasant, and assumes that everyone will acknowledge it with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;postitive&lt;/span&gt; agreement. Go to hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting pissed hearing people saying the phrase ' Happy New Year '. THINK ABOUT IT WOULD YOU? Why the hell should I be happy just because its a new year? Its still the same old shit, people still get on with their miserable lives, working in the same job as with the previous year. Whats there to be happy about? Do you really think people care about the bullshit you just said? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;STOP GIVING PEOPLE A FALSE SENSE OF SECURITY&lt;/span&gt; about how everything is new and different because its not, and those who believe so are no better than the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;dipshits&lt;/span&gt; who said it as well. You want something to be new and different? How about getting a new job, a new car, new house, or even a new wife, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THEN I'll AT LEAST GIVE A SHIT. IF NOT, THEN SHUT THE FUCK UP.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is the year 2010 going to affect me in any way? Not at all. Cut the bullshit, and stop deceiving yourselves, because its going to be the same this year, or every other year to come until the day you die. I'm trying really hard to contain my anger right now, so don't get me started on bitching about people with their new year's resolutions. Fuck off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-6874581878879569860?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6874581878879569860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6874581878879569860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/12/how-5cent-sms-determines-if-youre.html' title='How a 5cent SMS determines if you&apos;re a dipshit or not.'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-5139386231095345232</id><published>2009-12-25T10:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T18:36:53.770-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So you drive a fast car? I'm still faster than you.</title><content type='html'>So I overtook a Ferrari Enzo the other day. No big deal right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;EXCEPT IT WAS WITH MY COMPANY'S 20 YEAR OLD BIKE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jackass Ferrari driver had a foreign license plate number FX 23EU, and was revving his engine all the way along the 2 lane road heading towards Changi Village. What he didn't forsee was that traffic was not as light as usual on that particular day, and that both lanes were slow moving, and the vehicles were maintaining about 1.5 car length between each other. The dipshit driver kept revving his engine back and forth towards the car in front of him, swerving left to right in his own lane like how those jackasses do when they try to overtake road hoggers on the first lane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;WAY TO GO JACKASS, I'M STILL FASTER THAN YOU THOUGH.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I managed to overtake the idiot by squeezing in between the 2 lanes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ferrari: 0, RX-K: 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tough shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting tired of having to see fancy fast cars with their modified exhaust systems and bodykits speeding past or overtaking me in annoyance, only to see them stuck at the next traffic light junction. They'll be stuck behind the line of cars while I squeeze my way through to the front, never seeing them again when the lights turn green. Losers. All of them. What's the point? I win all. Speaking of such, people who modify their cars to make them faster and louder (noiser) are the same people who have worms in their vaginas. These are the people who can only afford some half assed Japanese car eg. (Honda Civics, Jazz, Suzuki Swift Sport, Mitsubitshi Lancers) and then spend tons of their money on modifications to make their shitty cars faster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;WHAT'S THE FUCKING POINT OF SPENDING ALL THAT MONEY WHEN WITH THE SAME AMOUNT, THEY COULD HAVE BOUGHT A PROPER SPORTS CAR IN THE FIRST PLACE. SOMEBODY TELL ME. MAN, THOSE PEOPLE ARE FUCKING RETARDS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who cares anyway? Today I just overtook some dipshit on his ugly red WRX with exhaust pipe so big that I could've stuffed a basketball in, and then still have space to fit a baby kangaroo. Dipshit's pipe was making a hell lot of noise like the some hollow metallic sound, so I decided to race with him. But I couldn't because I was already in front of him, and I won before the race started. Pure loser.&lt;br /&gt;I can see that all that money spent modifying the damn car didn't change a thing, but made him more of a retarded jackass instead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-5139386231095345232?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5139386231095345232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5139386231095345232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/12/so-you-drive-fast-car-im-still-faster.html' title='So you drive a fast car? I&apos;m still faster than you.'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-974568676268930834</id><published>2009-12-21T09:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T09:37:24.575-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ris(tarded) Low saga continues.....</title><content type='html'>I was at the gas station the other night, and while walking past the magazine rack, my retarded detector went off, so I turned my head, and lo and behold - what did I see?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Sy-uxhLyjXI/AAAAAAAAAyk/dt1HDxWdVc0/s1600-h/Ris-tarded.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Sy-uxhLyjXI/AAAAAAAAAyk/dt1HDxWdVc0/s320/Ris-tarded.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417741042494639474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;WHAT THE FUCK? IT WAS ENOUGH TO MAKE MY BLOOD BOIL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ris (tarded) Low on the front cover of FHM. What the hell is going on here? Christine Taylor, Kristen Bell, Mila Kunis, or Natalie White from Survivor Samoa is hot. Not some retarded airhead who can't even speak simple English and 'is studying steel'. I'm never going to read another issue of FHM for the next 6 months, and those who bought this issue with her on it are dipshits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ris. What a stupid name. Here's how she got the name, or so I heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She couldn't spell the name 'Reese', so she used 'Ris' instead, short form from 'Pasir Ris'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bitch steals. She's a fraud. She thinks she's cute by using words like 'shingz' and 'boomz'. Way to go jackass! Singapore had just proved itself once more (no surprise) what a dumbass nation it has, by crowning her the title of Ms Singapore World (yes she has since stepped down, I know that smartass). There's no better way to let the whole world know in the Ms World beauty pageant that Singapore is represented by a retard. Thumbs up for Singapore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough of this Ris Low saga already. There's this clothing shop at Cineleisure that's selling shirts with the words 'shingz' and boomz' printed on it. I only hope that whoever buys or wears one of these shirts would get burnt, including the shop as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this hype about some plain local blockhead bitch is making me sick. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;GET A LIFE LOSERS, AND STOP FUELING HER EGO.&lt;/span&gt; Its already bad enough listening to her slurred drones, and now involuntary seeing her in some skimpily clad dress or swimsuit or whatever you call that. I hope she dies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-974568676268930834?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/974568676268930834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/974568676268930834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/12/ristarded-low-saga-continues.html' title='The Ris(tarded) Low saga continues.....'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Sy-uxhLyjXI/AAAAAAAAAyk/dt1HDxWdVc0/s72-c/Ris-tarded.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-4167662730025556500</id><published>2009-12-12T10:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T10:49:39.508-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Check back soon</title><content type='html'>Exams are finally over, and you'd think it means I'll have time for updates. Unlike most of my classmates who'd spend their holidays going overseas to visit Disneyland, I'll be spending most of the time working because important people like me have shit to do instead of sitting around at home in front of the computer watching animes the whole day, with their shit oozing out of their asses until the next semester begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good content takes up time to prepare and write, which is something that I don't have. Anyway, I've got lots of things to bitch about still so bear with me as I only update in my FREE TIME. More updates to come soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-4167662730025556500?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4167662730025556500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4167662730025556500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/12/check-back-soon.html' title='Check back soon'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-250354878974466791</id><published>2009-11-08T09:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T20:22:51.693-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Proof that my balls are steel:</title><content type='html'>Few days ago, a friend of a friend handled me a piece of exotic food called 'Balut' from the Philippines. Balut is a street food commonly sold in the Philippines. It comprises of a semi developed chick in an egg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A &lt;b&gt;balut&lt;/b&gt; is a fertilized &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duck" title="Duck"&gt;duck&lt;/a&gt; (or chicken) egg with a nearly-developed &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Embryo" title="Embryo"&gt;embryo&lt;/a&gt; inside that is boiled and eaten in the shell. It is commonly sold as streetfood in the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philippines" title="Philippines"&gt;Philippines&lt;/a&gt;. They are common, everyday food in some other countries in &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Southeast_Asia" title="Southeast Asia"&gt;Southeast Asia&lt;/a&gt;, such as in &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laos" title="Laos"&gt;Laos&lt;/a&gt; (where it is called &lt;b&gt;Khai Luk&lt;/b&gt;), &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cambodia" title="Cambodia"&gt;Cambodia&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;b&gt;Pong tea khon&lt;/b&gt; in Cambodian), and &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vietnam" title="Vietnam"&gt;Vietnam&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;b&gt;Trứng vịt lộn&lt;/b&gt; or &lt;b&gt;Hột vịt lộn&lt;/b&gt; in &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vietnamese_language" title="Vietnamese language"&gt;Vietnamese&lt;/a&gt;). Popularly believed to be an &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aphrodisiac" title="Aphrodisiac"&gt;aphrodisiac&lt;/a&gt; and considered a high-protein, hearty snack, balut are mostly sold by street vendors in the regions where they are available.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/MARKLE%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/MARKLE%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/MARKLE%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcK0qeC25I/AAAAAAAAAwc/KSjwqPTZVU0/s1600-h/BalutWiki1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 228px; height: 236px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcK0qeC25I/AAAAAAAAAwc/KSjwqPTZVU0/s400/BalutWiki1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401798177923980178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcK05TtmaI/AAAAAAAAAwk/SmNUUMN-WgQ/s1600-h/BalutWiki2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 174px; height: 232px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcK05TtmaI/AAAAAAAAAwk/SmNUUMN-WgQ/s400/BalutWiki2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401798181907175842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Both images taken from Wikipedia)&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;Source: Wikipedia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balut_%28egg%29"&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balut_(egg)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't going to be labeled a gay ass nancy boy, so I took the challenge:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcMTHOPFVI/AAAAAAAAAxU/02ydgBG5oZk/s1600-h/06-11-09_2033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 317px; height: 237px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcMTHOPFVI/AAAAAAAAAxU/02ydgBG5oZk/s320/06-11-09_2033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401799800550004050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Warming the egg in a cup of warm water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcMTQKxMQI/AAAAAAAAAxc/YCSvEhTFIhU/s1600-h/06-11-09_2035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 321px; height: 235px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcMTQKxMQI/AAAAAAAAAxc/YCSvEhTFIhU/s320/06-11-09_2035.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401799802951381250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Unveiling the inside. I was told to crack the top part of the egg so as to prevent the juice from spilling. The colour of the juice looked exactly the same as the colour of the water in a bucket after mopping the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcMTvB0zPI/AAAAAAAAAxk/weEBFZGaIUg/s1600-h/06-11-09_2037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcMTvB0zPI/AAAAAAAAAxk/weEBFZGaIUg/s320/06-11-09_2037.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401799811235368178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. After slurping down the juice, (which was really tasty by the way, no kidding)&lt;br /&gt;I removed more parts of the shell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcMT3p0AlI/AAAAAAAAAxs/nWJ1pk2wUw4/s1600-h/06-11-09_2038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcMT3p0AlI/AAAAAAAAAxs/nWJ1pk2wUw4/s320/06-11-09_2038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401799813550572114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;4. This is what the yolk will become after it starts to develop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcMUPU-cGI/AAAAAAAAAx0/b130sPA_5T4/s1600-h/06-11-09_2039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcMUPU-cGI/AAAAAAAAAx0/b130sPA_5T4/s320/06-11-09_2039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401799819905626210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. The bottom part of the egg consists of the chick. The patch of black is the undeveloped chick, while the curved 'line' is a vein or something I'm not sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcQKxhgPnI/AAAAAAAAAx8/8s_qVAEN60U/s1600-h/06-11-09_2040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcQKxhgPnI/AAAAAAAAAx8/8s_qVAEN60U/s320/06-11-09_2040.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401804055332798066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;6. After biting off the top part, I took a top down view of the egg. You can see the chick curled up like a squashed frog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcQLf955qI/AAAAAAAAAyM/_cGzCEXBqcY/s1600-h/06-11-09_2042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcQLf955qI/AAAAAAAAAyM/_cGzCEXBqcY/s320/06-11-09_2042.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401804067799951010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;7. Underside of the egg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcQLzvvXLI/AAAAAAAAAyc/TjlLyMjrtqM/s1600-h/06-11-09_2044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcQLzvvXLI/AAAAAAAAAyc/TjlLyMjrtqM/s320/06-11-09_2044.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401804073109249202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;8. Left side: Half eaten chick&lt;br /&gt;Center: Yolk&lt;br /&gt;Right: Egg white&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, the egg white was as hard a rock, totally different texture from a hard boiled egg. It was like eating the flesh of an old coconut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The chick part was soft and felt like gummy worms. I half expected to hear some bone crunching sounds as I chewed but the bone's weren't developed yet. Overall, it tasted like raw meat, and it felt normal. Nothing spectacular about it, it wasn't good or bad. Or maybe I just didn't know how to appreciate it at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have sworn I felt my balls harden shorter after. I rule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-250354878974466791?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/250354878974466791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/250354878974466791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/11/proof-that-my-balls-are-steel.html' title='Proof that my balls are steel:'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SvcK0qeC25I/AAAAAAAAAwc/KSjwqPTZVU0/s72-c/BalutWiki1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-2758947689394515001</id><published>2009-11-03T10:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T11:24:37.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck Mac</title><content type='html'>I'd spend my time doing my unfinished assignment that's due tomorrow, but I'll rather blog about how shitty Macs are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting pissed with people with their fucking Macs. All Mac users are the same bunch of retards, trying to show how superior they are than PC users. They somehow think that they're at the top; the top of a shit mountain that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask any Mac user why they think Mac is better than PC, and they'll prattle a full hour about how great Macs are without any substantial facts, that I had to block at least 5 Mac users on my MSN just to prove this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This person in my team has this ugly yellowish MacBook that was previously white, and whenever anyone of us wanted to send an updated copy of the report that we were working on, she'd ask that we change the .doc format to something else or save and send it via WordPad instead. What the hell is going on here? If you're going to have a device that isn't going to do something its supposed to do, then why the fuck would you get one in the first place? A laptop that can't support Microsoft Office is like having a cellphone that can't make phone calls. What good does that do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know for whatever reason why her Mac couldn't support Microsoft Office, but I do know that she's a dipshit. Too convenient to make us inconvenient I suppose, which is just what all Mac users are: selfish, ignorant retards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thebestpageintheuniverse.net/c.cgi?u=macs_cant"&gt;Here's what Maddox has to say about Macs&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I did a search on why Macs suck on youtube and found these 2 great videos that are worth checking out:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AOAUI0s8zOE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AOAUI0s8zOE&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, a laptop that can fit into an envelope. Why would anyone want to buy that shit in the first place? What is a laptop that has no optical drive, and a pathetic USB port good for? Sound like a piece of shit to me.&lt;br /&gt;I once knew a friend who owned a Mac. When I told him that Macs were retarded, he didn't take it in too well. He went all the way to show how easy it was to make a movie that he was working on (he's studying multimedia design), and kept insisting that Macs 'just works'. The last time I heard about him was that his Mac crashed, and all data was lost. Enjoy your Mac, loser! I haven't heard again from him for 3 years since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck Macs. I have too little time now to go on bitching more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mVHVcofxfKI&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mVHVcofxfKI&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-2758947689394515001?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2758947689394515001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2758947689394515001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/11/fuck-mac_03.html' title='Fuck Mac'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-5842105704795221986</id><published>2009-11-02T20:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T20:17:59.614-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay tuned</title><content type='html'>Updates coming soon after I finish this damn assignment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-5842105704795221986?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5842105704795221986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5842105704795221986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/11/stay-tuned.html' title='Stay tuned'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-597774465414708325</id><published>2009-09-28T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T01:29:04.637-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Annoying people and animals should be killed</title><content type='html'>There should be a rule, that annoying people should be killed. And burnt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My neighbour is just a pain in the ass. Asking questions like where I'm going, or do I have work/school today blah blah blah. Why can't the fuck she shut the hell up? I consider myself a reasonable person. You don't fuck with me, and I won't fuck with you. What can she possibly gain by asking all this questions for? Fuck. Annoying woman with her stupid dog that barks at anyone who walks past her door. It seems that people who own dogs are just as stupid as them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of dogs, this retarded friend I used to know (that hates himself) posted some video of dogs being killed for consumption on Facebook. I've taken the liberty to copy and paste retard's post here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SsD_pKMauOI/AAAAAAAAAwE/0vF41JLFyXs/s1600-h/Dog1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 438px; height: 624px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SsD_pKMauOI/AAAAAAAAAwE/0vF41JLFyXs/s400/Dog1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386586236911270114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't be bothered to argue with retard here and his retarded friends. What is wrong with all this people they said. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Animals are meant to be killed and eaten. Millions of chicken, cows, sheep, pigs etc are slaughtered for consumption, and you all are quick to jump about dogs being killed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the comment of one of retard's friends. (who is retarded as well)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SsEBXu8npnI/AAAAAAAAAwM/mxc-wNjqpVU/s1600-h/Dog2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 453px; height: 67px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SsEBXu8npnI/AAAAAAAAAwM/mxc-wNjqpVU/s400/Dog2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386588136562730610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Heartless people' indeed. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;FUCKING HYPOCRITICAL MOTHERFUCKERS.&lt;/span&gt; If I were to choose to eat dogs, who are you to tell me what I can or cannot do bitch? And what is su*k?&lt;br /&gt;Do you mean the word suck, which isn't a bad word by the way, but I understand its hard to type while sucking a dick in your mouth. What are you, 13 years old or something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dog meat is widely consumed in Germany, France, Korea, China, East Timor and Africa. Why don't you retards just wake up and look around. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOUR FUCKING PET DOG HERE ISN'T REGARDED AS A PET IN OTHER COUNTRIES YOU FUCKTARDS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Live with it you emotional assholes. Annoying hypocrites thinking that they're always so pure and righteous, and I'm tired with all your bitching ass comments. People like you should all be killed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And eaten as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-597774465414708325?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/597774465414708325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/597774465414708325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/09/annoying-people-and-animals-should-be.html' title='Annoying people and animals should be killed'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SsD_pKMauOI/AAAAAAAAAwE/0vF41JLFyXs/s72-c/Dog1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-8584209020745333091</id><published>2009-09-11T06:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T06:10:09.567-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To all you bitches:</title><content type='html'>Exams are next week.&lt;br /&gt;Updates will only come after, so quit refreshing every few minutes for updates.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-8584209020745333091?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8584209020745333091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8584209020745333091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/09/to-all-you-bitches.html' title='To all you bitches:'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-6890759470267721625</id><published>2009-08-08T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T12:03:32.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NDP = National Deep Penetration</title><content type='html'>I hate National Day. I hate everything about it. I hate Singapore too in case if you're wondering. All this recent bullshit about the parade, about feeling proud of our country just makes me want to take a dump. Just the other day I saw this National Day commercial about this group of dipshits embracing each other and acting all emotional, singing the song 'Home' with their eyes closed.  What the hell is wrong with you people? I'd like to just smack them and run them over with a truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everywhere I go I hear phony songs like 'Stand Up for Singapore' which never seems to change after all these years. Don't you get tired listening to all this bullshit racket? Why should I 'stand up' for Singapore? Why can't I choose not to? What do I get in return for doing so? See? People are being brainwashed and they don't know it. I remember in primary school, every year we celebrated National Day by doing some dumb exercise called the Great Singapore Workout. Now whats that got to do with National Day you fucking wankers? Yeah I was young when they tried to brainwash us with National Day propaganda. Too bad I was smart and called in sick every year since Primary 3. Bitches. The only time I appreciated National Day was when I was in Secondary school so that I could have a good reason to skip school by telling my parents that there was no school on the eve of National Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hate it when people tell me that they're proud of our country, especially those who are so enthusiastic about being involved (participating) in the National Day Parade. Losers. And the newspapers. Talking about how grand this year will be blah blah blah. What's so special this year, as opposed to every other year? I'm sure no one can give me a definite answer, because every year is the same old boring dog shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Sn3J1aYj35I/AAAAAAAAAv0/L4uip3DPCcg/s1600-h/NDP+suckers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Sn3J1aYj35I/AAAAAAAAAv0/L4uip3DPCcg/s320/NDP+suckers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367668250348085138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the only talking point this year is the reciting of some pledge when the whole country is at a standstill. DIPSHITS. I, for sure am not going to be one of those dumbass idiots to stop what I'm doing just to recite some pledge.  What will I be doing at 8.22pm tomorrow?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taking a dump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its stupid how people complain all the time in the newspapers about ugly Singaporeans in public transportations, dirty hawker centres or public toilets, unemployment, inflation, increasing taxes , bitching about everything about Singapore, and then in the end, the say that they're proud of Singapore? What the fuck is going on here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pathetic assholes....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-6890759470267721625?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6890759470267721625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6890759470267721625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/08/ndp-n-deep-penetration.html' title='NDP = National Deep Penetration'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Sn3J1aYj35I/AAAAAAAAAv0/L4uip3DPCcg/s72-c/NDP+suckers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-973446282895309267</id><published>2009-07-02T13:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T14:00:25.574-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm doing my part, are you?</title><content type='html'>Just today I was heading towards the school cafeteria to get a drink during break time, when I was stopped by this badass Duke Nukem look of a security guard, who was guarding the entrance like a club bouncer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Where's your sticker?' he demanded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I remembered those stupid posters pasted on almost every wall of the campus ever since I stepped out from the carpark. The posters were about some compulsory temperature screening for all students at level 2. I then looked to the right, and I wasn't surprised with all the dipshits with their "I'm OK" gay ass stickers stuck on their shirts, walking pass the guard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cafeteria was particularly packed today, and it wasn't worth the effort pushing those dipshits  aside all the way to the drinks stall just to get a drink. So I flipped the bird right into the guard's face, but I wasn't sure if he saw it anyway, because he was wearing sunglasses as though he was Arnold Schwarzenegger or something, and I walked away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked down at level 2 and saw a line of retard queuing up to get their temperatures taken. Dipshits. What the fuck are they so afraid of? Some H1N1 virus bullshit which is  equivalent to a mild flu? Are we breeding a nation of pussies here? From what I know, if someone is infected and recovers, the person is immune to the virus. Whats so bad about that? Why can't everyone just deliberately infect themselves and face it once in their whole life? Whats the difference with this H1N1 virus compared to chicken pox? You can either get chicken pox once in your life, then get it over and done with, or keep running from it. But I don't see anyone starting a chicken pox scare now, do I?&lt;br /&gt;Pussies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week I woke up one morning, coughing, sneezing, feeling really tired, and I also had a sore throat. But I wasn't gonna be some weakling by going to see a doctor.  I made sure that I do my part, by deliberately walking through large crowds, coughing without covering my mouth. That way, we don't grow another pool of weaklings or retards. I even went to work that same day. I sure hoped that I was infected with H1N1, just to prove that I'm not a pussy ass nancy boy afraid of some mild flu. I win.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-973446282895309267?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/973446282895309267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/973446282895309267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-doing-my-part-are-you.html' title='I&apos;m doing my part, are you?'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-4420863829828666716</id><published>2009-06-30T01:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T02:10:15.438-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Singaporeans are pathetic</title><content type='html'>Why are Singaporeans so retarded? I read about them everyday in the newspapers. I see them everywhere on the streets, resting their legs on the seat of a bus, speaking Singlish to foreigners, or do something stupid like bringing their dumb pets onto the MRT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SknUKh8YcxI/AAAAAAAAAvs/-tjrK-b41A8/s1600-h/DumbPets.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SknUKh8YcxI/AAAAAAAAAvs/-tjrK-b41A8/s320/DumbPets.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353042909481956114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there a dumbass association that I'm not aware off? And when I mean Singaporeans, I mean all of them, including you. (I'm American by the way, I celebrate 4th of July)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Singapore is a breeding nation of shithead and retards. Its becoming hard to get around without bumping into such idiots who are trying their best to recruit you into their association. Just the other day, I got so pissed off with this retarded female driver that I pushed a kid playing near a flight of stairs down, and kicked my neighbour's dog when it barked at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People ask me why I'm always so pissed at everything. The answer is all because of you. I'm sure retarded people won't ask why they're retarded because they don't know that they're retarded in the first place. Maybe I should just change this blog into an anti-retarded rights movement or some shit like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-4420863829828666716?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4420863829828666716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4420863829828666716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/06/singaporeans-are-pathetic.html' title='Singaporeans are pathetic'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SknUKh8YcxI/AAAAAAAAAvs/-tjrK-b41A8/s72-c/DumbPets.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-6230632739313632017</id><published>2009-06-18T02:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T03:42:55.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to deal with retards</title><content type='html'>Time for another update. I just finished my exams  after waves of school assignments, and tests. I was drinking petrol and eating charcoal to make my body reach equilibrium, so that I didn't have to sleep for an entire month. But I'm back with a vengeance now motherfuckers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I noticed that the group of friends that I always hang out with were turning into a bunch of retards. That's usually the first sign that hits you, making you think you're one too since you've been hanging around with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It gave me a suckering feeling that I was being duped and  drained of my intelligence, like a virus forcing its way up my nostrils and molesting my brain. Hanging out with them is like hanging out with the toilet cleaner at a food centre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, being the awesome dude that I am, 2 of my friends and I were quick enough to escape.&lt;br /&gt;Here's a quick tip on how to deal with retards:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SjoY_c1g4bI/AAAAAAAAAvk/9O30bVAPrIg/s1600-h/Retard1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SjoY_c1g4bI/AAAAAAAAAvk/9O30bVAPrIg/s320/Retard1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348614985807356338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SjoYkEosWvI/AAAAAAAAAvE/nwyXT5yt4fg/s1600-h/Retard2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SjoYkEosWvI/AAAAAAAAAvE/nwyXT5yt4fg/s320/Retard2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348614515454663410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SjoYkWEMr-I/AAAAAAAAAvM/FfUTAqCCY5I/s1600-h/Retard3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SjoYkWEMr-I/AAAAAAAAAvM/FfUTAqCCY5I/s320/Retard3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348614520133431266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SjoYku7PmTI/AAAAAAAAAvU/p7t0mXVTZfk/s1600-h/Retard4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SjoYku7PmTI/AAAAAAAAAvU/p7t0mXVTZfk/s320/Retard4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348614526806759730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SjoYkzRgtBI/AAAAAAAAAvc/g4R7sxHq_xE/s1600-h/Retard5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 308px; height: 171px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SjoYkzRgtBI/AAAAAAAAAvc/g4R7sxHq_xE/s320/Retard5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348614527973897234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its like an infectious disease, there's no point retaliating because you'd still become infected. You will not be considered a pussy to retreat in this kind of situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More updates soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-6230632739313632017?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6230632739313632017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6230632739313632017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/06/how-to-deal-with-retards.html' title='How to deal with retards'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SjoY_c1g4bI/AAAAAAAAAvk/9O30bVAPrIg/s72-c/Retard1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-1289163617452299721</id><published>2009-04-28T11:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T11:32:08.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I win.</title><content type='html'>Hey bitches, while you're all busy spamming that pathetic chat box that nobody reads or give a shit about, take a look again. Yeah, its been removed so you whiners can now go bitch and cry yourselves to sleep every night. How's it feel to have the only power you all had, revoked? Hahaha, try retaliating now, suckers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can now say whatever I want with you losers and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you can't do anything about it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what will you losers do now? Nothing. You can't win me. I win all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Parvitar, I read that article about you on The New Paper that day. Getting your chops busted by 2 pimps in Geylang for touching their prostitutes and refusing to pay only depicts how much of a loser you are. And you even got robbed. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tell me&lt;/span&gt; you dipshit, what can get worse than that? Opps, I forgot, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you can't do anything about it. &lt;/span&gt;Wahahaha. Serves you right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-1289163617452299721?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1289163617452299721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1289163617452299721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-win.html' title='I win.'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-5754020351781539556</id><published>2009-04-24T12:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T09:38:02.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Facebook saga</title><content type='html'>Every time I log into my Facebook account, the home page is always bombarded by retards with their junk comments or spamming their shit as though everyone appreciates it. Facebook is not like what it used to be anymore. I've concluded after much thought the other day, just how retarded some of my "friends" are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've taken the honour of breaking them down into categories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Attention Seeking Whore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a classic example of a retard taken from the home page of my Facebook:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SfIwmKvLUpI/AAAAAAAAAus/T4TL3NHdbTA/s1600-h/Attention+Whore.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 998px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SfIwmKvLUpI/AAAAAAAAAus/T4TL3NHdbTA/s320/Attention+Whore.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328374741408109202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure everyone's had them in their Facebook account. Fucking attention seeking whores. The truth is, nobody gives a shit which top 5 favourite things you like, so what's the point of doing the damn quiz anyway? It alright if its just one or two, but 12 quizzes in 1 hour (I think there's more on the second page but I can't be bothered to check) only proves that:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. You got too much time on your hands&lt;br /&gt;2. You're a pea brain&lt;br /&gt;3. You're an attention seeking piece of shit&lt;br /&gt;4. All of the above&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answer: 4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Showoff&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are the showoffs, who boast in comments about themselves:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SfIdr-tjckI/AAAAAAAAAuU/XdUgXxG_660/s1600-h/Attention+Whore1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 505px; height: 67px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SfIdr-tjckI/AAAAAAAAAuU/XdUgXxG_660/s400/Attention+Whore1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328353950538363458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So you just did a 90km ride. Lets all cheer for the fucking superhero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Prophet &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there are also those who think they know the philosophies in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(no pic attached because I blocked the shit)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prophet says that " you will never get what you want if you don't look forward to it.. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prophet says that " I've learnt from my mistakes, never lose your ..... blah blah blah "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prophet says that " If your mind is shut, you will never acheive your goal "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey Prophet, if I want to hear such bullshit, I'll go to see a psychiatrist. Nobody wants your life experience here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Football Fanatic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SfIwve8wG5I/AAAAAAAAAu0/QPwVBDLZqto/s1600-h/Attention+Whore2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 159px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SfIwve8wG5I/AAAAAAAAAu0/QPwVBDLZqto/s320/Attention+Whore2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328374901452577682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate soccer, or football, whatever you call it. Really, if I wanted to talk about soccer, like whose team is playing against who today,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I'LL GO TO A SOCCER FORUM AND POST MY DISCUSSION THERE AND NOT POST COMMENTS ABOUT IT IN FACEBOOK.&lt;/span&gt; I hate people who watch soccer. They somehow got that thinking that everyone else is a soccer fan, and would gladly start their soccer bullshit whenever they get a chance. Listen up assholes, I watch Formula 1, but do you see me posting comments discussing F1 in Facebook? Not everyone likes what you watch, nigga! Soccer freaks are the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The senseless soul&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SfItZuiTQtI/AAAAAAAAAuk/UAxnfz_QScs/s1600-h/Attention+Whore3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 172px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SfItZuiTQtI/AAAAAAAAAuk/UAxnfz_QScs/s320/Attention+Whore3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328371229144597202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whats the point of posting a comment for everyone to read, but nobody understands it at all? Perhaps that comment is targeted to a certain reader, but then again why post a shoutout as opposed to a private mail? Unbelievable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have more, but I'm gonna stop here for now.&lt;br /&gt;You know what I think Facebook is? Facebook is just like a job interview, where you can immediately determine whether the interviewee (your friend) is a retarded dipshit or not. Its a good way of getting to know your friends more, and then not talking to them ever again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-5754020351781539556?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5754020351781539556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5754020351781539556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/04/facebook-saga.html' title='The Facebook saga'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SfIwmKvLUpI/AAAAAAAAAus/T4TL3NHdbTA/s72-c/Attention+Whore.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-807923571606209876</id><published>2009-03-08T12:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T12:51:14.335-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Women are dumb Part II</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SbQa6xC2NxI/AAAAAAAAAt0/RhVgCvuKfhM/s1600-h/womendumb1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 367px; height: 412px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SbQa6xC2NxI/AAAAAAAAAt0/RhVgCvuKfhM/s320/womendumb1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310899457476671250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Any quality control engineer will tell you that no object is 100% precise. No object will never be completely accurate, right down to the 10th decimal place. Till today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure most of you have read this article. And most of you will (including women)  agree with me that the 2 women who deemed this man's swimwear as indecent were idiots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This article made me see flames when I first read it a week or so ago, but I was too busy to write about it, until another follow up of that article surfaced on today's newspaper. Which begs this question: If a 54 year old man  who wears such swimwear is immediately considered indecent, but the reverse is true in Calvin Klein's advertisements?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember another recent hype of an article featuring this troup of male strippers from Australia in the newspapers, which described how the women were crazy over them, and wanted them to 'bear more skin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds like bullshit to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dumbass hypocrites.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-807923571606209876?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/807923571606209876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/807923571606209876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/03/women-are-dumb-part-ii.html' title='Women are dumb Part II'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SbQa6xC2NxI/AAAAAAAAAt0/RhVgCvuKfhM/s72-c/womendumb1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-2830733015377323500</id><published>2009-02-26T01:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T03:45:10.235-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Need a ride to the shit factory?</title><content type='html'>Question : Whats worse than finding diarrhea in your pants?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answer : Taking a ride on the MRT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been taking the MRT to school until about a month ago and have came to a conclusion; that people who take the MRT are all dipshits. From irritating and noisy school kids to middle age 'aunties', and smelly old people, its like taking a express ride to a shit factory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One particular thing that pissed me off was that everytime a train leaves a station, some dumb announcement will be played through the intercom system in either English, Mandrin, Malay or Tamil, which all of you people are distinctively familar. Something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;' Please do not leave your belongings unattended, if you see any suspicious articles, please inform our staff, or call 999.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when it sparked my bullshit detector. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HOW THE FUCK WOULD I KNOW WHAT THE ANNOUNCEMENT IS ABOUT IF ITS BROADCASTED ONLY  IN TAMIL?&lt;/span&gt; Yeah, I know you people already know what it means, because you've all heard the same annoucement in English before. But whats the point of playing it in other languages as well? Would an old woman who only understands Mandrin, be able to understand what the announcement is about? Not likely, until maybe 10 mintues later when the Mandrin version is played, and by then I hope the 'suspicious article', whatever it may be, blows her up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't they just broadcast only one version in English instead? But what about those people who don't understand English? Good point dipshits, because if anyone who doesn't understand English, shouldn't be taking the MRT in the first place. Prove?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SaZnb0gl94I/AAAAAAAAAs8/eTBtcqqsop4/s1600-h/MRT1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 471px; height: 291px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SaZnb0gl94I/AAAAAAAAAs8/eTBtcqqsop4/s320/MRT1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307042938552186754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How the fuck would you know which station to alight, if all the stations in the map are in English, nigger? Besides, the announcement broadcasting the station name every time the train nears a station is always in English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SaZqqrM5n9I/AAAAAAAAAtU/s7InGLcy2Rs/s1600-h/MRT2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 222px; height: 296px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SaZqqrM5n9I/AAAAAAAAAtU/s7InGLcy2Rs/s320/MRT2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307046492286590930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a look at this sign. What do you mean I can't bring durians? Because it smells bad? How about making a sign completely about a certain group of smelly individuals?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SaZ45usNqLI/AAAAAAAAAts/xxAoLc9mTD4/s1600-h/MRT5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 387px; height: 182px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SaZ45usNqLI/AAAAAAAAAts/xxAoLc9mTD4/s320/MRT5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307062144084060338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I noticed they have this priority seats located next to the doors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SaZqqTkoY4I/AAAAAAAAAtM/gHDHTywgkGQ/s1600-h/MRT4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 186px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SaZqqTkoY4I/AAAAAAAAAtM/gHDHTywgkGQ/s320/MRT4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307046485943673730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The picture clearly stated that 3 kinds of people are given priority 'with special needs'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SaZ4t-DMY4I/AAAAAAAAAtk/y3s2SF7dVJQ/s1600-h/MRT3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 198px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SaZ4t-DMY4I/AAAAAAAAAtk/y3s2SF7dVJQ/s320/MRT3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307061942048547714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. People with umbrellas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Fat women&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Pedophiles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One time I boarded the train and saw an old man sitting at the priority seat. I told him to give up his seat as I was carrying an umbrella, but he looked blankly at me, puzzled. I repeated myself loudly this time, thinking he had bad hearing, and he scoffed and grunted, stood up, shaking his head. I then promptly sat down, when his other guy standing in front of the seat looked in disbelief. He then told me in an angry voice, to give my seat to the old man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I explained that this is a priority seat and I merely deserve what I paid for,  as my adult fare was more expensive than the fare for senior citizens, the guy flew to a rage and challenged me to a fight. Thinking he was a pedophile and was trying to compete with me for a seat, I stabbed his crotch with my umbrella, wrestled him on the floor and stomped on his face repeatedly for a full minute. I have no tolerance when it came to pedophiles, and he laid there unconscious. Someone had apparently called for help with through the intercom system, and when the train reached the next station, the SMRT staff rushed in and I pointed to that guy on the floor, telling them that he was well taken care of and no one else was hurt. They dragged him out by his hands, and congratulated me for being a good citizen, and by then the passengers in the cabin started to applaud. I was a hero. Dipshits.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-2830733015377323500?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2830733015377323500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2830733015377323500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/02/need-ride-to-shit-factory.html' title='Need a ride to the shit factory?'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SaZnb0gl94I/AAAAAAAAAs8/eTBtcqqsop4/s72-c/MRT1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-8308488566735249124</id><published>2009-02-25T03:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T12:29:42.445-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Women are dumb</title><content type='html'>Women are dumb. There's nothing to argue about it. To prove my theory, there are dumb blonde jokes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was riding home just now after a downpour, and the road was really wet and slippery. Just as I was turning into the carpark, this dumb ass woman just darted out from between a row of parallel parked cars,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; LOOKING TOWARDS HER LEFT FOR TRAFFIC WHILE DOING SO.&lt;/span&gt; Unless Singapore suddenly changed all cars to left hand drive side, looking at the left while crossing the road is the dumbest thing anyone can do and its as good as crossing the road blindfolded. Appearently Ms Retarded here thinks otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had to be Chinese educated, because most Chinese educated people are stupid and can't do stuff like reading signs, because they're &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ALWAYS&lt;/span&gt; in English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was about 3 car lengths from her, and I wasn't going that fast, enough to slow down gently before hitting her, but those split seconds, I thought to myself,  what if I was going at 50km/h? I'd surely had braked hard and might have skidded, and I wasn't going to fall off my bike because of an imbecile. If I were to fall, I'd make sure I rammed into her before I did. So I revved up and charged straight at her like a bowling ball. She managed to dodge when she heard the sound of the revving engine, but got sprayed by a puddle of water as I went past, not after being rudely insulted the phrase &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'DUMB ASS!'&lt;/span&gt; as I turned into the carpark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What made me reassure my theory about Ms Retarded was that she was slinging 2 backpacks, one on each shoulder like a dumb goose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SaUxm3D0crI/AAAAAAAAAs0/Ar-KxKvLc8Q/s1600-h/2+Backpacks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 195px; height: 392px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SaUxm3D0crI/AAAAAAAAAs0/Ar-KxKvLc8Q/s320/2+Backpacks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306702279610757810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Something like that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Which begs the question. Who the hell would carry two backpacks and sling one bag on each shoulder? Does she think she has four arms or something? Idiots. Why not wear two pairs of shoes instead?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-8308488566735249124?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8308488566735249124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8308488566735249124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/02/women-are-dumb.html' title='Women are dumb'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SaUxm3D0crI/AAAAAAAAAs0/Ar-KxKvLc8Q/s72-c/2+Backpacks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-3315103384882919050</id><published>2009-01-30T08:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T09:07:23.685-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Update you nigger!</title><content type='html'>Yeah I know its been more than a month since I updated. Nothing's exciting happened lately except that time when I pushed a wheelchair bound guy out of the MRT because he was taking too much space and wouldn't get into 'the center of the cabin'. Asshole.  Other than that, I'm busy with work and school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been busting my ass the past few days to get an assignment done which deadline was exactly an hour ago. I'm was so busy that the only time I could take a piss was when I'm going to take a shower because even a few seconds counted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got lots of ideas and stuff yet to be updated. Updates will be scarce so check back again periodically.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-3315103384882919050?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3315103384882919050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3315103384882919050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2009/01/update-you-nigger.html' title='Update you nigger!'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-2189238128440427087</id><published>2008-12-09T10:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T11:04:04.809-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Block the blog</title><content type='html'>Ever visited a blog, and suddenly some loud music starts to play from nowhere, reconfirming how retarded the blogger is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the reason for someone to play music or videos on their blog? So I searched the definition for blogging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;'From “Web log.” A blog is basically a journal that is available on the web. The activity of updating a blog is “blogging” and someone who keeps a blog is a “blogger.”'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The phrase &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;BASICALLY A JOURNAL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, does not include posting MTV videos you dipshit!&lt;br /&gt;Why the fuck would I want to hear your spastic song, or watch your video when I can do it myself on youtube? That's the problem with dipshits. They assume that other people likes the song that they listen to. I'm here to tell you otherwise, bitch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could be playing songs from my computer, and then this shitty half assed Gay Chou shit starts playing, ruining everything. Playing songs on your blog only makes your blog more shitty. Period. And by the way, I've observed that people who listen to Gay Chou are the same people who shit their pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Way to go, jackasses!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-2189238128440427087?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2189238128440427087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2189238128440427087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/12/block-blog.html' title='Block the blog'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-9157067945915335393</id><published>2008-11-19T11:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T12:30:11.069-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tiger uppercut</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SSR2bn7hmkI/AAAAAAAAAis/BJzut7JZrzo/s1600-h/tiger1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SSR2bn7hmkI/AAAAAAAAAis/BJzut7JZrzo/s320/tiger1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270467680877517378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its getting really amusing reading the news on the newspapers nowadays. Don't they have better things to report than continue with the never ending tiger attack episode?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The article was about the reopening of the tiger exhibit at the Singapore Zoo. Big deal. Then it mentioned that the visitors are curious about the tigers and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'm really pissed about with the article is this column about people with their stupid and brainless comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"See if there's blood in the water." - unidentified man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you see if there's blood in the water you dumb shit? An average human has approximately 6 litres of blood. Not to mention that the water in the moat is more than 20000 litres, and is tainted with the colour of algae, let alone the estimated 3 litres (the man did not lose all his blood dipshits.) of blood over the period of 4 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's another point to note. The body was dragged into the den, and not into the water dumbass! Why can't people think before they speak out of their asses?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"Don't think the tigers can get out." - a regular zoo visitor, 35.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course the tigers can't get out. Do you think the zoo would allow the animals to escape from their enclosures? What the fuck is that comment supposed to mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;"He's been walking like that for hours. Don't let it blink at me." - an unidentified man, on the tiger pacing to and fro in the enclosure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooo, I came all the way to the zoo to see the white tiger, and now I'm standing in front of the enclosure for hours, about to piss in my pants because its blinking at me. I'm too much of a pussy to turn my head and walk away instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get a life idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I want to see a tiger, why go all the way to the zoo?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SSR2PmV6K5I/AAAAAAAAAik/5HdSNnhR4-8/s1600-h/tiger2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 183px; height: 256px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SSR2PmV6K5I/AAAAAAAAAik/5HdSNnhR4-8/s320/tiger2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270467474292878226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't even need to pay any admission fee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-9157067945915335393?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/9157067945915335393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/9157067945915335393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/11/tiger-uppercut.html' title='Tiger uppercut'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SSR2bn7hmkI/AAAAAAAAAis/BJzut7JZrzo/s72-c/tiger1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-8729551616316569915</id><published>2008-11-08T04:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T04:38:52.477-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fashion my ass</title><content type='html'>I was alighting from the MRT that day heading towards the escalator, when I saw this freak of a woman with this loud and obnoxious shit around her neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWDpywxoaI/AAAAAAAAAhc/Go4-TogOf2k/s1600-h/Necklace1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 447px; height: 191px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWDpywxoaI/AAAAAAAAAhc/Go4-TogOf2k/s320/Necklace1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266260093303890338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t get a second chance to see what it really was because she was also standing at the right side of the escalator, but not more than 10 seconds max because some awesome dude pushed her down from behind, and she sprained her neck while rolling down the steps because that shit she was wearing had to be at least 5kg. The paramedics had to be called in soon after. Serves you right bitch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prove?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWDpexX7FI/AAAAAAAAAhM/uXkw2ePXVXc/s1600-h/Ambulance.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWDpexX7FI/AAAAAAAAAhM/uXkw2ePXVXc/s320/Ambulance.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266260087937690706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dumbass was admitted to the hospital and later fined $200 for taking the escalator while in possession of bulky items, and endangering the safety of other commuters. Tough luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see more and more dipshits by the day, wearing that really ugly big piece of shit around their necks. I just don’t get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWHQP6eb_I/AAAAAAAAAic/2uUAuhLxh_k/s1600-h/Necklace7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 254px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWHQP6eb_I/AAAAAAAAAic/2uUAuhLxh_k/s320/Necklace7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266264052499116018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at that large obnoxious crappy pendant. Who the hell would want to wear such a revolting piece of shit in the first place? What the fuck does it even mean or stand for? Why wear something that only makes you look uglier than you already are, as opposed to not wearing it at all? Why wear not wear a dick instead?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWDpyDrnzI/AAAAAAAAAhk/8_aBZhEZZhA/s1600-h/Necklace2.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 296px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWDpyDrnzI/AAAAAAAAAhk/8_aBZhEZZhA/s320/Necklace2.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266260093114752818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWEJ_ouR8I/AAAAAAAAAh8/UVWKBtGSFVg/s1600-h/NecklaceDipshit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 453px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWEJ_ouR8I/AAAAAAAAAh8/UVWKBtGSFVg/s320/NecklaceDipshit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266260646515591106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are those who think it’s cool to wear ear rings the size of a dinner plate. It looks heavy and it sags the earlobes, making you look like an elephant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWGn8CGg9I/AAAAAAAAAiU/JgTtl749hRU/s1600-h/Ear+Rings4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 208px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWGn8CGg9I/AAAAAAAAAiU/JgTtl749hRU/s320/Ear+Rings4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266263359967626194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know who started this stupid trend or fashion or whatever you girls call it, but it has to stop. You ain’t no nigga mama, and you ain’t going nowhere with that preposterous image.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWGn-0HNnI/AAAAAAAAAiM/pqVlDeUMMfE/s1600-h/Ear+Rings6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 154px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWGn-0HNnI/AAAAAAAAAiM/pqVlDeUMMfE/s320/Ear+Rings6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266263360714258034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back in my poly days, my friend and I would sit around in the lecture theatre and play a game called ‘Hoop the Boobs.’ The game is simple. Here’s a guide on how to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.    Find a girl wearing large ear rings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWDp8Mde3I/AAAAAAAAAhU/gME3Mupq8vc/s1600-h/Ear+Rings2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 280px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWDp8Mde3I/AAAAAAAAAhU/gME3Mupq8vc/s320/Ear+Rings2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266260095835929458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.    Tear a small piece from a sheet of paper, and roll it into a ball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWEjf7tcJI/AAAAAAAAAiE/1ypW8wrD6Fk/s1600-h/Paperball.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 199px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWEjf7tcJI/AAAAAAAAAiE/1ypW8wrD6Fk/s320/Paperball.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266261084681891986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.    Flick the paper ball through the ear ring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWEJ_XJcCI/AAAAAAAAAhs/qhJSSSqNpgk/s1600-h/Ear+Rings7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 280px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWEJ_XJcCI/AAAAAAAAAhs/qhJSSSqNpgk/s320/Ear+Rings7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266260646441873442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.    Extra points if the ball lands on the boobs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWEJ-YGwnI/AAAAAAAAAh0/xFCyY0b87Zc/s1600-h/Ear+Rings5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWEJ-YGwnI/AAAAAAAAAh0/xFCyY0b87Zc/s320/Ear+Rings5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266260646177456754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next time I see anyone wearing that shit around, I'll not hesitate to retaliate by yanking at their ear rings or making them choke on their loud and pathetic necklaces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-8729551616316569915?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8729551616316569915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8729551616316569915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/11/fashion-my-ass.html' title='Fashion my ass'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SRWDpywxoaI/AAAAAAAAAhc/Go4-TogOf2k/s72-c/Necklace1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-2953894537580591799</id><published>2008-10-20T03:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T10:14:32.145-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You ugly, mad crazy bitch!</title><content type='html'>I had the misfortune of knowing someone a few days ago. She was a friend of a friend, and joined us for supper one night, but that’s not what this is about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;SHE’S FUCKING UGLY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I’m biased against ugly people, but if one is really ugly, who wouldn’t stop and think to themselves,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; ‘my, what an ugly piece of shit…’ &lt;/span&gt;every time they see one on the street?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t have a picture of her, but managed to find a picture that resembles her taken from the Internet. She looks something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxhO0s8CmI/AAAAAAAAAgs/aywa3PrnuDE/s1600-h/Ugly+bitch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxhO0s8CmI/AAAAAAAAAgs/aywa3PrnuDE/s320/Ugly+bitch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259185372155087458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn’t be bitching just because she’s a hideous monster, but she’s a nasty old hag as well. Here are some of the things she did that not only pissed everyone off, but ruined the whole evening with her bag of shitty stunts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;1.    She’s a half assed shitty driver&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There’s been a long time debate about women being shitty drivers, and all this while on the road I’ve never really met one myself including the occasional indecisive hag who doesn’t know when is the right time to change lanes until the last second. Many women are quick to argue that most of the accidents reported on the newspapers are caused my men, but the actual fact is because they were trying to avoid hitting into a female driver who cut his lane. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Women drivers should just stay off the roads. They’re just mobile hazards who can’t parallel park, or do a U-turn without mounting a kerb and hitting a pedestrian. You might ask, how in the world do they pass their driving test anyway? If you were to analyze, most of the Traffic Police testers are desperate middle aged men, who would gladly grade them explicitly well, because all the examinees have to do is to move off in a forward position and let a vehicle bang them in the rear, or replace the gear stick with their hardons, if you know what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway here’s what happened that night on the TPE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxgam8tScI/AAAAAAAAAgE/cQtNbuegok4/s1600-h/Road1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxgam8tScI/AAAAAAAAAgE/cQtNbuegok4/s320/Road1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259184475109935554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ugly and mad bitch was tailgating behind a dump truck, on the 3rd lane of the TPE, veering off to the left towards the railings beside the shoulder lane. Some awesome dude (me) keeping a long long distance away from that mad woman who was on a road rampage. I signalled right to change lanes to the 2nd lane so that I could overtake her and pretend I didn't see the accident that was going to happen, when she suddenly signalled right as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxgapzJuMI/AAAAAAAAAgM/4kp93vGMgkM/s1600-h/Road2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxgapzJuMI/AAAAAAAAAgM/4kp93vGMgkM/s320/Road2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259184475875162306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me, taking extra precautions, changed lanes and kept to the right side of the 2nd lane. Mad bitch saw me coming, and did not seem to be changing lanes so I kept moving straight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxga4QdaUI/AAAAAAAAAgU/DkzRHuhWwkc/s1600-h/Road3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxga4QdaUI/AAAAAAAAAgU/DkzRHuhWwkc/s320/Road3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259184479756183874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Suddenly, that mad woman swerved right even &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BEFORE&lt;/span&gt; I had completely overtaken her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxga4JwAAI/AAAAAAAAAgc/XhUQtib5k9U/s1600-h/Road4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxga4JwAAI/AAAAAAAAAgc/XhUQtib5k9U/s320/Road4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259184479728041986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Luckily, the awesome dude had quick reflexes and accelerated more in order not to get hit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxgbLmY0NI/AAAAAAAAAgk/gRb1k_KqyiY/s1600-h/Road5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxgbLmY0NI/AAAAAAAAAgk/gRb1k_KqyiY/s320/Road5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259184484948431058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mad bitch almost hit me from the back as she finished changing lanes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wouldn’t be that bad if it was just me, but the others also had a similar encounter with the hell rider as well. She would speed up and overtake the car that was leading the group, even though she didn’t know how to get to the place we were going. Also, not forgetting that she was hogging on the first lane at 90km/h. Her car seemed unstable and she kept speeding for no apparent reason at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;STAY OF THE ROADS YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT. I HOPE YOU SMASH INTO A DUMP TRUCK OR GET KNOCKED DOWN BY A STEAM ROLLER.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;2.    She brags like an idiot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told a friend, that she has a double diploma from Temasek Polytechnic. When further questioned what diplomas she had, she replied,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Diploma in Hospitality &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&amp;amp;&lt;/span&gt; Tourism Management.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time I checked, Diploma in Hospitality &amp;amp; Tourism Management is one fucking diploma itself, and not two separate diplomas you whore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxhPQKJAlI/AAAAAAAAAg8/EYppGdW7mkI/s1600-h/Business1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxhPQKJAlI/AAAAAAAAAg8/EYppGdW7mkI/s320/Business1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259185379525329490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxhPmOYxYI/AAAAAAAAAhE/1bzUEcdz9bQ/s1600-h/Business2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxhPmOYxYI/AAAAAAAAAhE/1bzUEcdz9bQ/s320/Business2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259185385448719746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ampersand in the middle does not mean you have a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Diploma in Hospitality&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Diploma in Tourism Management&lt;/span&gt;, dipshit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;3.    She thinks she is hot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having worked in an airlines company as some office assistant, she told my friends that this handsome Lead Steward was trying to court her. If there’s one thing that I hate most, is people who are ugly but have high self esteem and confidence, and thinks that they’re high above the hierarchy. She has the same attitude as that Fatty, but somehow or rather she can’t seem to read between the lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxhPFbZWhI/AAAAAAAAAg0/f1-1QaqSA_Q/s1600-h/Linesbitch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 444px; height: 157px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxhPFbZWhI/AAAAAAAAAg0/f1-1QaqSA_Q/s320/Linesbitch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259185376644913682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;4.    She is jealous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow, since you think you’re so hot, what’s there to be jealous about? That you’re not attached? Reality strikes, loser! Isn’t it contradicting that after bragging about someone who is trying to court you, and then being jealous that you’re not attached just doesn’t make any sense at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only hope that you wake up one day to find yourself in a garbage truck, because your household mistook you for trash and threw you away down the chute, breaking your leg in the process so you can’t drive, as a result preventing more accidents on the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is a good thing. I hope you die.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-2953894537580591799?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2953894537580591799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2953894537580591799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/10/you-ugly-mad-crazy-bitch_20.html' title='You ugly, mad crazy bitch!'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SPxhO0s8CmI/AAAAAAAAAgs/aywa3PrnuDE/s72-c/Ugly+bitch.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-6219861732331339584</id><published>2008-10-01T12:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T12:12:03.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'>F1 Posers</title><content type='html'>I should have posted this before, but I was too busy being pissed off by F1 losers and I didn’t have the time to update. It’s already almost 4 days after the F1 Singapore Grand Prix and I’m still reading bullshit news articles about how the F1 Grand Prix had affected Singapore and our lives. Move on assholes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What pisses me off most is that non F1 fans are pretending to be interested in Sunday’s race just because its held it Singapore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Oh, an F1 race in Singapore! Let’s go down and see what its like even though I’ve never fully watched a race before, and don’t even know what F1 really stands for.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Idiots. Ask them how many teams are participating in the F1, or name at least 3 F1 drivers, and they’ll stare at you blankly or say ‘Michael Schumacher,’ – good point dipshits, but he already retired after the end of 2006. Then there are those who went to buy tickets to watch the race live, without knowing that they need to bring earplugs. Ignorant bastards. It’s the same as watching a soccer match blindfolded. Dumbass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was even this article about illegal bookies trying to cash in on the F1 race, but no one could bet because NOBODY KNEW WHO TO BET ON. They didn’t even know how a F1 bet works or what were the odds against a particular driver. Why don’t you idiots just fucking stick to soccer? I’m tired of hearing of the never ending F1 hype. ITS OVER. MOVE ON.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a F1 fan myself about 3 years ago, till recently work and NS restricted my time to keep track on the past few seasons, doesn’t make me fit to talk about F1 compared to those posers who think they know everything just because they watched a single race live (or on TV). Nobody cares that you can watch the race from your living room, or that you managed to watch the race for free at certain spots. Stop this bullshit and let me read some decent news on the newspaper. What they need to do is to open their eyes. I don’t see the majority of Singaporeans interested now in horse racing, or wakeboarding, don’t I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why are these people so interested anyway? F1 has been a sport for more than 50 years, and they think they have the right to be interested every once in a year for the next 4 years? I remember there was a match at the then pathetic National Stadium a few years ago against Manchester United, but did you see me or any non soccer fans suddenly being interested in soccer? Well, most of the losers I’m talking about are soccer fans, just because they think they know all about a certain sport, doesn’t mean they’re fit to know anything about F1. Eat shit you soccer bastards. Soccer blows anyway. How’s it like to know that nobody gives a shit about soccer, but you soccer fans are so interested in F1? Congratulations. You just made yourselves my bitch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-6219861732331339584?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6219861732331339584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6219861732331339584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/10/f1-posers.html' title='F1 Posers'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-7700414814456985236</id><published>2008-09-19T02:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T13:05:30.158-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am back, Motherfuckers!</title><content type='html'>Yes I'm back. After spending 359 days in Taiwan, I am finally back for good. The minute I stepped out of the arrival hall, I found myself surrounded by the same old pathetic Singaporeans speaking Singlish loudly in public. I hate everyone of them. Why can't Singaporeans just be like everyone else? Assholes. And the girls. They think too highly of themselves. Always thinking that they're so pretty and hot. Here's the comparison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SNOVDkVL85I/AAAAAAAAAbE/sAtqhQEmyNw/s1600-h/Chick+Meter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 473px; height: 473px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SNOVDkVL85I/AAAAAAAAAbE/sAtqhQEmyNw/s400/Chick+Meter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247701879341446034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is it like to feel like a star but nobody gives a shit anyway? Singapore chicks always have the perception that they turn heads everywhere they go. But the truth is because the ratio of ugly girls to pretty girls in Singapore is 10:1, whereas the ratio of ugly girls to pretty girls in Taiwan is 1:10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All that heavy makeup, jewelery, and designer bags only makes you look stupid, and it can't be compared to the natural beauty and sweetness of Taiwanese girls. What's more, the hot Taiwanese chicks don't even think they're hot themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buck up you Singaporean chicks. No one wants to date an air headed girl. That also explains why the ratio of butches in Singapore to Taiwan is 20:1, bitches! Most of the girls have gone gay because nobody wants or needs them. Have you ever thought of that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn. Anyway the only other thing I enjoy doing is being able to drink water straight from the tap. Hell yeah, no more murky and chalky water. Ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-7700414814456985236?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/7700414814456985236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/7700414814456985236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-am-back-motherfuckers.html' title='I am back, Motherfuckers!'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SNOVDkVL85I/AAAAAAAAAbE/sAtqhQEmyNw/s72-c/Chick+Meter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-515072841617654155</id><published>2008-09-11T06:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T07:24:34.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The V-Sign</title><content type='html'>Group photographs are not only a good way to remember your friends and family, but also how full of shit your friends really are. Have you ever taken a group photo, and then suddenly realize that you’re being surrounded by retards?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is wrong with this photograph?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkdUpkSipI/AAAAAAAAAY4/f_1QvLFwKNE/s1600-h/Dumbass6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkdUpkSipI/AAAAAAAAAY4/f_1QvLFwKNE/s320/Dumbass6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244755481642306194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like a perfectly ordinary photograph at first, but look again. Why do people like to do this when they take pictures? Do they really know what the V-sign means? As far as I’m concerned, only hippies do that gesture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkfWOKTp7I/AAAAAAAAAZY/D61jalq9utM/s1600-h/hippie2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 295px; height: 314px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkfWOKTp7I/AAAAAAAAAZY/D61jalq9utM/s320/hippie2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244757707668563890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkfV5XunJI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/6p3CVXLuy70/s1600-h/hippie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkfV5XunJI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/6p3CVXLuy70/s320/hippie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244757702087711890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now stand corrected. So what does the V-Sign stand for?&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;What people think it means:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkdU9A8CKI/AAAAAAAAAZA/kAM2kDER7RU/s1600-h/Dumbass2a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkdU9A8CKI/AAAAAAAAAZA/kAM2kDER7RU/s320/Dumbass2a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244755486862739618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;What it really means:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkdU2XNS6I/AAAAAAAAAZI/SPxkCzXMlLM/s1600-h/Dumbass2b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkdU2XNS6I/AAAAAAAAAZI/SPxkCzXMlLM/s320/Dumbass2b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244755485077097378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;It looks stupid, lame and pathetic. So I did a search on Wikipedia to find out the definition of the ‘V-Sign’.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;V sign&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; is a hand gesture&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt; in which the first and second fingers are raised and parted, whilst the remaining fingers are clenched.&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; With palm inwards, in the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;United   Kingdom&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; and some other English speaking countries, it is an obscene insulting gesture of defiance.&lt;/span&gt; During the Second World War Winston Churchill popularised its use as a "Victory" sign (for &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;V as in victory&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;"&gt;) initially with palm inwards and later in the war palm outwards. &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;With the palm outwards, it is also used to mean "Peace", a meaning that became popular in the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;United   States&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt; during the Peace movement of the 1960s.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Unless you’re a diplomat, a hippy, or involved in the Peace movement in the 1960’s, cut that shit out because it’ll only make you look more of a dumbass than you already are. In fact, there already is an official and more recognized sign for peace. By the way, peace blows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkhi9yRWqI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/ecAwusQTjog/s1600-h/PeaceSign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 172px; height: 172px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkhi9yRWqI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/ecAwusQTjog/s320/PeaceSign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244760125634337442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;To make it worse, some have even modified the V-Sign into a sideways position because they think it looks cool and hip, not even knowing that it means a gesture of insult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMknqV8fkEI/AAAAAAAAAac/_zUVATPJTM4/s1600-h/Dumbass1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMknqV8fkEI/AAAAAAAAAac/_zUVATPJTM4/s320/Dumbass1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244766849448513602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 more dumbass pictures that proves my theory is true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkoS_5WukI/AAAAAAAAAas/UIhd0E7MD5Q/s1600-h/Dumbass8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkoS_5WukI/AAAAAAAAAas/UIhd0E7MD5Q/s320/Dumbass8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244767547904408130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkoSkB-giI/AAAAAAAAAak/wZ1aV8Vgq8I/s1600-h/Dumbass7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkoSkB-giI/AAAAAAAAAak/wZ1aV8Vgq8I/s320/Dumbass7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244767540424376866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many have argued that the V-Sign is an international hand sign to promote peace, harmony, friendship, and all the usual bullshit. For all I know, there is only one international hand sign for peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkhjHEdZjI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/kLV5LE4qhAI/s1600-h/Middlefinger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkhjHEdZjI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/kLV5LE4qhAI/s320/Middlefinger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244760128126543410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Flipping the bird is the only acceptable gesture that's allowed in photographs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I know you guilty bastards will still continue with your shit festival even after reading this, so fuck off. You're now officially added into my list of shit eaters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-515072841617654155?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/515072841617654155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/515072841617654155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/09/v-sign.html' title='The V-Sign'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMkdUpkSipI/AAAAAAAAAY4/f_1QvLFwKNE/s72-c/Dumbass6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-6234117175922857315</id><published>2008-09-08T02:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T08:42:21.914-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where are the updates?</title><content type='html'>Yes I know you people are wondering why I haven't been updating. Quit asking me to update. I'll update time to time when I feel like it, or whatever reason that disallows me to. Including how my laptop gave up on me. Reason?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THIS FUCKING THING:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMT3PDUtwHI/AAAAAAAAAXo/a5kMava5y1c/s1600-h/Fuck+Fan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMT3PDUtwHI/AAAAAAAAAXo/a5kMava5y1c/s320/Fuck+Fan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243587704128389234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The mod that went wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I was trying to modify a spare laptop cooling pad that I had, to mount it externally powered via USB 2.0. All I could say is, the magnetic coil in the fan went haywire, and fried a few capacitors on the motherboard. The shop that I bought the laptop from told me that they had to sent it to the Asus Service Centre which would take less than a week. Bitch. I had to spent the next 14 days without my laptop. All I could do was watch TV until I got so bored watching the re-runs on HBO, Movie World, Cinemax, Star World and all the movie channels - that on the tenth day I went on a rampage and smashed everyone else's laptops out of spite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only good thing was that I got a new motherboard after all the trouble and my laptop is now even faster than the faster state it was before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Updates coming soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-6234117175922857315?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6234117175922857315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6234117175922857315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/09/where-are-updates.html' title='Where are the updates?'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SMT3PDUtwHI/AAAAAAAAAXo/a5kMava5y1c/s72-c/Fuck+Fan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-5247927546827693052</id><published>2008-08-06T09:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T21:24:38.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Attention Parvitar</title><content type='html'>I'm finally free to post an update. Been busy with work lately, preparing for some stupid NDP thing. Whats with NDP? We're in Taiwan for crying out loud, why are we celebrating NDP in a host's country? Beats me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I received lots of feedback about my latest post, some asking if the fatty really took the bait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;He did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So stop asking me anymore.&lt;/span&gt; I'm getting tired of having to reply these two words over and over again. Then there are those who ask me why am I so mean. You people just don't get it. I'm the nice guy here, and I didn't do anything to him. I just merely created a virus, but he took it without permission and ran it. I am the victim here, because my disc got stolen. Now I don't see anyone sympathizing with me don't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I've been receiving some rather odd but amusing comments from this person who posted in my comments section. First of all, I'm tired of people getting all pissed and posting their views because nobody gives a fuck. Here's a suggestion parvitar: why don't you get off your computer and do something instead of whining here like a pussy? Hell, since you're so pissed about my post, why don't you make a blog about how shitty my blog is instead? Whatever it is, nobody gives a shit to faggots like you, so this shall be the last time I'll reply to your bitching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To sum up some of his comments:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b class="pn_std"&gt;parvitar&lt;/b&gt;: eh cheebai,i ****ing hate ur guts,cheebai u come fight with me one on one nabei&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b class="pn_std"&gt;parvitar&lt;/b&gt;: my number is 90099627&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b class="pn_std"&gt;parvitar&lt;/b&gt;: u are a *****,im the fat faggots faggot boyfren,yes i sucked his dick and im gay and strong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't know how to describe how I felt after reading his comments. I couldn't sleep that night because I wouldn't stop laughing. Is this some kind of joke that I'm not aware of? I'm just as stunned and intrigued like the rest of you people, so I called the number myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sounded like a real 15 year old nancy boy, and didn't talk much because I immediately know a faggot when I hear one. I ain't gonna talk to no faggot. He reminded me of that gay black guy in the movie 'I now pronounce you Chuck and Larry' who was always looking angry because he was still in the closet and couldn't express his true feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SJnewnIKADI/AAAAAAAAAXg/dDEwSmRJffo/s1600-h/chuck1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 198px; height: 198px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SJnewnIKADI/AAAAAAAAAXg/dDEwSmRJffo/s320/chuck1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231457368885821490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So, being the kind and nice guy I am, I decided to help parvitar. To give him benefit of a doubt, and since he seemed like he needed help and kept posting angry comments on my blog, I signed up to the local Singapore sex forum sammyboy and posted an advertisement. It goes like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Patrick - handsome, young chinese male&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smart, handsome, tall and young. Patrick attracts women and even men with his looks and great muscular figure. He only likes men, and &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;he's gay and strong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patrick has attracted much attention from women, but they do not know that he's gay.&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; He likes watching anime&lt;/span&gt; in his free time, and going clubbing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Name: Patrick&lt;br /&gt;Age: 24&lt;br /&gt;Race: Chinese&lt;br /&gt;Height: 182cm&lt;br /&gt;Weight: 69kg&lt;br /&gt;Penis length: 6 inches&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patrick likes men of all types, but he is &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;specially fond of larger sized men.&lt;/span&gt; He is kinky in bed, &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;prefers to give head,&lt;/span&gt; and is very sensitive to the touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is free during weekdays from 10am to 4pm. May take night appointments, depending on the occasion. No appointments to be entertained during weekends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damage: 150/1/1. No room, caps provided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hp no. 90099627&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its nice to know that there are people out there would go out of the extent to help someone in need. I'm glad I was able to help.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-5247927546827693052?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5247927546827693052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5247927546827693052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/08/im-finally-free-to-post-update.html' title='Attention Parvitar'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SJnewnIKADI/AAAAAAAAAXg/dDEwSmRJffo/s72-c/chuck1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-2855504921316400824</id><published>2008-07-24T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T03:18:39.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Revenge is sweet</title><content type='html'>I’d been thinking for the past few weeks on how to take my revenge on that fat bastard, and finally thought up of a foolproof plan. The plan is so brilliant, and so evil that I have to take a few minutes away from work now and then just to think what I genius I am.    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;It’s hard to do with something evil and get away with it at the same time. In fact, I don’t know if I should be posting this but what the heck! That fatty’s going down, and nothing or nobody can stop me! Wahahaha! Bitches!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;So there I was working on my computer at &lt;st1:time hour="2" minute="0"&gt;2am&lt;/st1:time&gt; in the morning. I couldn’t get to sleep because that fat bastard was snoring way too loud. He was pissing me way off and I had half a mind to pee into a bottle, then pour the urine into his mouth. Just then I chanced upon some source codes and thought of the ingenious idea for revenge.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;The plan is to make the fatty activate a virus that would wipe out his data. I remembered programming a simple virus back in school. Easy. Just a couple of tweaks to the codes and it works like a charm. The only problem is, how am I going to make him activate the virus in his computer? Sending any viruses intentionally to anyone or secretly installing a virus into one’s computer is illegal, and it is a federal crime. But that’s not going to stop me from carrying out my deadly mission. There’s always a loophole to everything.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Since it’s an open secret that that fatty is a pedophile, I immediately found his weakness. Pornography. Somehow most fat people are deprived, and desperate for sex (because they can’t get laid), and the only way to relieve themselves is by watching pornographic material.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;The plan in step by step process:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Step 1 - Program the virus.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Rename the virus to AUTORUN.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SIigEDsZ2fI/AAAAAAAAAXA/8jepDRKVbDY/s1600-h/virus2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SIigEDsZ2fI/AAAAAAAAAXA/8jepDRKVbDY/s320/virus2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226603359134931442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Effect of virus:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Completely wipe out his C:\Documents and Settings folder without any confirmation. This folder contains all documents in every computer unless you’re smart enough to store your data somewhere else which I don’t think most people do.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Shutdown the computer and reboot it 20 seconds after activation. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;Step 2 - Create the folder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SIigD2I_oLI/AAAAAAAAAW4/cySbamG2Iqw/s1600-h/virus1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SIigD2I_oLI/AAAAAAAAAW4/cySbamG2Iqw/s320/virus1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226603355496751282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Place the virus together with a folder containing pornographic material.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I created a folder named ‘DVD’ to make its contents look like its being ripped from a DVD. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then, I added two random front cover DVD pictures taken from the Internet to make it look convincing.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Step 3 - Burn the folder into a disc.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SIigETeeRPI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/Dmk7PLg_aVE/s1600-h/virus4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SIigETeeRPI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/Dmk7PLg_aVE/s320/virus4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226603363371468018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Step 4 - Disguising the bait.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SIigEX2VXhI/AAAAAAAAAXI/GGWjbbH4u7w/s1600-h/virus3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SIigEX2VXhI/AAAAAAAAAXI/GGWjbbH4u7w/s320/virus3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226603364545289746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Place the disc together with some rubbish pornographic disc that could be bought at any store.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This is to make the disc look like it contains pornography.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Step 5 - Lay the bait&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SIigEeeqyzI/AAAAAAAAAXY/yK1ONf5JQsw/s1600-h/virus5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SIigEeeqyzI/AAAAAAAAAXY/yK1ONf5JQsw/s320/virus5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226603366325078834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I placed the bait where it could be seen easily by that fat bastard, just beside his bed. Wahaha!!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;11.50 AM – Bait was placed&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;12.00 PM – Lunchtime&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;12.10 PM – Fatty gobbled his lunch (he likes to show off that he can eat faster than                        anyone) and went up to bunk&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="20" hour="12"&gt;12.20PM&lt;/st1:time&gt; – I finished my lunch and went up to bunk&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="21" hour="12"&gt;12.21PM&lt;/st1:time&gt; – Bait was confirmed taken by the fatty&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YOU FUCKING LAB RAT. WAHAHA. TOOL. Happy watching and good luck trying to retrieve your data you bastard!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There's nothing wrong in creating a virus. However if some stupid fool were to take something that doesn't belong to him, and run it, then its not my problem anymore! Shithead!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I celebrated my success that night looking at his sad pathetic fat face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was the happiest day of my life.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-2855504921316400824?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2855504921316400824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2855504921316400824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/07/revenge-is-sweet.html' title='Revenge is sweet'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SIigEDsZ2fI/AAAAAAAAAXA/8jepDRKVbDY/s72-c/virus2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-8354958416325289286</id><published>2008-07-05T05:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T05:39:48.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A list of the toughest men ever</title><content type='html'>I know a guy who would scream and wail at the slightest bit of pain like a pussy, and he's one of the gayest person I've ever known. Only kids and girls cry when they fall down, or twist their ankle. Men, on the other hand are born tough, and not to be pushed around with. I'm tired of having to hear guys bitching around like a girl, or a couple of gay &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;nancy&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Therefore, I've taken the liberty to compile a list of the toughest guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; 1. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Arnold&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; Schwarzenegger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9tWH39bbI/AAAAAAAAAVY/4vGsqWtVjOE/s1600-h/arnold.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 241px; height: 319px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9tWH39bbI/AAAAAAAAAVY/4vGsqWtVjOE/s400/arnold.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219510719984004530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9tWUv8LZI/AAAAAAAAAVg/t6Btuihh0SA/s1600-h/arnold2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 316px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9tWUv8LZI/AAAAAAAAAVg/t6Btuihh0SA/s400/arnold2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219510723440029074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Arnold Schwarzenegger is one mean and badass tough guy that you don’t wanna mess’ around with. Just look at him, body and all. He can knock you out cold with the flick of his finger, and crush you with his toes. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Arnold&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; has starred in movies like Predator and Terminator not just because of the money he makes out of acting, but because he likes to kick ass.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9tWV45WQI/AAAAAAAAAVo/fpPazEPnIlQ/s1600-h/arnold3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 211px; height: 266px;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9tWV45WQI/AAAAAAAAAVo/fpPazEPnIlQ/s400/arnold3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219510723746027778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9tWmHfH5I/AAAAAAAAAVw/5VS83mq6Czg/s1600-h/arnold4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 330px; height: 210px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9tWmHfH5I/AAAAAAAAAVw/5VS83mq6Czg/s400/arnold4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219510728102190994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once, while walking on the sidewalk, a dog came out of nowhere and started to rush towards him, barking ferociously. Bad move. &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Arnold&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; yanked its mouth open with his bare hands and broke its jaw, kicked its gut so hard till it ruptured, and tossed the dog into the rubbish bin by its tail, not before saying the words, “Astalavista baby” and “I’ll be back.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Another time &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Arnold&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; was crossing the street when he was hit by a car driven by an old cranky woman. The impact was so severe, equivalent to smashing into a wall of bricks. The bonnet of the car was crushed in, which shattered the windscreen during the process, and the woman bled to death from a small wound on the head after hitting the steering wheel. But was &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Arnold&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; hurt? No. He calmly walked away laughing at how stupid the old woman was.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;2. Sylvester Stallone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG90HGFYQwI/AAAAAAAAAWo/3kfrNQIGnVQ/s1600-h/stallone1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 263px; height: 210px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG90HGFYQwI/AAAAAAAAAWo/3kfrNQIGnVQ/s400/stallone1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219518158386774786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG90HU8-K8I/AAAAAAAAAWw/z1VxQoRFfWQ/s1600-h/stallone2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 287px; height: 208px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG90HU8-K8I/AAAAAAAAAWw/z1VxQoRFfWQ/s400/stallone2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219518162378042306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sylvester Stallone is a man of steel. He’s so tough that he could kill anyone in a single punch. Stallone is skilled in survival, weaponry, hand-to-hand combat and guerrilla warfare. Rumor has it that Stallone was hit once by an RPG rocket on the stomach during the Persian Gulf war in 1991, but the rocket bounced off and killed a soldier standing beside him.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9u5cnXcxI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/A_ZYlVA8Mkg/s1600-h/stalloneSchwarzenegger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9u5cnXcxI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/A_ZYlVA8Mkg/s400/stalloneSchwarzenegger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219512426358600466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Not much is known about Stallone because the last time a journalist tried to interview him, he had to get a testicle transplant because his chops were busted during the interview. Stallone is an introvert who will take out anyone who interlopes him, being on par in terms of toughness with Arnold Schwarzenegger. Here’s a picture of Stallone and Schwarzengger, with no bullshit intended.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;3. John Travolta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9u15sA3II/AAAAAAAAAV4/No0y1sZWUTI/s1600-h/travolta1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 316px; height: 253px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9u15sA3II/AAAAAAAAAV4/No0y1sZWUTI/s400/travolta1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219512365443243138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9u2FFivmI/AAAAAAAAAWA/5X5bWXusMLI/s1600-h/Travolta2.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 301px;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9u2FFivmI/AAAAAAAAAWA/5X5bWXusMLI/s400/Travolta2.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219512368503111266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John Travolta is one sneaky son of ‘o bitch that makes you feel comfortable at first sight, then stab you in the back when you least expected it. He is a fighting machine, not physically, but psychologically. Travolta has this menacing smile which hides dark secrets inside him that nobody knows, like who killed John F. Kennedy, or what happened to the 3 &lt;st1:place&gt;Alcatraz&lt;/st1:place&gt; escapees: Frank Lee Morris, and the Anglin brothers Clarence and John Anglin in 1962.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9u2ufYYdI/AAAAAAAAAWI/a2D4OGJjdn4/s1600-h/Travolta3.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9u2ufYYdI/AAAAAAAAAWI/a2D4OGJjdn4/s400/Travolta3.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219512379617337810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In &lt;st1:date year="2001" day="11" month="9"&gt;Sept 11 2001&lt;/st1:date&gt;, when the World Trade Centre collapsed, a steel reinforcement bar feel on his head and broke into half. John Travolta was so pissed that he sued the government for negligence not for the sake of money, but for fun. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;4. Mark Leong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Mark Leong is a simple guy who doesn’t stand bullshit at all. He eats a box of nails everyday to prove how tough he is. There are no available pictures of him though, because he’s so tough, that the camera lens broke the other time someone tried to take a picture of him. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Just the other day while working, he cut himself on the right hand with a sharp knife. Did he began to cry like a &lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;nancy&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; boy, or wail like a pussy? Hell no. He calmly made himself a cup of coffee shortly after that, despite the amount of blood that was gushing out. Then he watched television for about 30 minutes, went to the gym, and took a shower not before losing a pin of blood. Then he decided to seek treatment just because he was feeling bored and had nothing to do.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The doctor recommended stitches because the cut was deep, but he refused as it was unnecessary. In the end, Mark broke 2 needles while stitching because he was too tough and laughed at the doctor for being stubborn.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9wDxT7-XI/AAAAAAAAAWY/xkDHjxNiI7w/s1600-h/Hand1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9wDxT7-XI/AAAAAAAAAWY/xkDHjxNiI7w/s400/Hand1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219513703224572274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;The following picture was taken after the doctor tried to charge extra for the broken needles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9xwsImExI/AAAAAAAAAWg/6s2zSIxQEiA/s1600-h/Hand2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9xwsImExI/AAAAAAAAAWg/6s2zSIxQEiA/s400/Hand2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219515574440563474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And there you have it, 4 of the toughest men ever known in existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-8354958416325289286?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8354958416325289286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8354958416325289286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/07/list-of-toughest-men-ever.html' title='A list of the toughest men ever'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SG9tWH39bbI/AAAAAAAAAVY/4vGsqWtVjOE/s72-c/arnold.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-2970786279541680228</id><published>2008-07-03T05:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T06:15:00.391-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you stupid?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Ever heard somebody saying something totally unnecessary before? It just as good as not saying anything at all. Why are people this stupid? They just say it for the sake of saying something, unaware that it only makes them more of an idiot.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;‘Eh you cut your hair ah?’&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You don’t have to state the obvious shit head! If its obvious that I had a haircut, why do you need to ask me that? I get sick of replying to such people. Unless my hair suddenly grew shorter by an inch, shut up and stop pissing me off with small talk alright?&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;‘1 in a million chance of ……’&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;People use this phrase as because they thought it wouldn’t happen to themselves. Doesn’t mean if there’s a 1 in a million chance of getting stomach cancer, means you’re not getting one.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;‘Eh, what did I want to say ah?’&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This is the most popular sentence anyone can say to piss me off. If you suddenly forgot what you wanted to say in a conversation, doesn’t mean that I know what it is. I can’t read your mind, dumbass!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);" class="MsoNormal"&gt;‘Guess what?’&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;These two words are commonly used at the start of a sentence, followed by a pause from the person who said it, expecting you to guess what he/she is going to say. You, the victim will either try to guess anything under the sun, which will never be correct, or give a reply like, ‘What?’&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Cut the shit talk, and spare the crap. Get straight to the point, bitch! &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;‘Eh you’re left handed ah?’&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Another comment stating the obvious. If I ever happen to be bilateral, which I’m not, or you feel that insecure till you need to ask stupid questions to reaffirm your curiosity, please stay 10 meters away from me, and chew your thumb the next time you want to ask something stupid. That’s the only way to shut yourself up.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The next time you're about to ask something obvious like,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;'What is your gender?' (unless that person seems/appears to be both)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Stop and think before you prove yourself to be a shithead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-2970786279541680228?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2970786279541680228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2970786279541680228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/07/ever-heard-somebody-saying-something.html' title='Are you stupid?'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-555708177432067500</id><published>2008-06-28T10:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T10:44:47.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleeping disorder</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;Me: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Medic! I can't sleep at night. I've been suffering for more than a month now without proper sleep. The fatass beside me snores so fucking loud. I can't hear my alarm when I use earplugs. I have insomnia. I can only get to sleep after 1AM every night. My back problem has returned and its killing me. I wake up every few hours after I eventually fall asleep. That fucking fat bastard always set his alarm at 5.30AM for no reason, and sleeps through the alarm. The other medic told me that he can't issue sleeping pills because it has side effects, and only used when necessary. What the fuck can you do about this?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;Medic:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; You need alcohol. Lots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/2327320832747026307-555708177432067500?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/555708177432067500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/555708177432067500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/06/sleeping-disorder.html' title='Sleeping disorder'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-8677583254176328642</id><published>2008-06-14T06:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T13:29:24.007-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shut the hell up.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="pn_std"&gt;So there I was reading my blog the other day and some idiot by the name of Drak replied in my comments section. It wouldn't be that bad if his replies made sense, and I'm sick of people going around preaching about stuff like eternity and righteousness blah blah blah. What the hell is Drak anyway? Are you some sort of Dracula?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="pn_std"&gt; here's what he commented:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b class="pn_std"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Drak&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;: the money you seek will fail you one day. money is not eternity. faith is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Money may not be eternity, but it definitely is a necessity. I'm tired of hearing people saying that money is not everything. So why don't you give me your money instead? Instead of bitching about something you have that you consider inconsequential, why not give it to someone who treasures it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If money doesn't mean anything to you, then how did you manage to post a comment in my blog in the first place? The computer that you use, electricity to power the computer, and your Internet connection all cost money, but no, you're too stupid to realise that you hypocrite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" class="pn_std"&gt;Drak&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;: learn to live in harmony. love your neighbours as yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Oh? After tolerating months of that fatass's bullshit, and you're asking me to 'live in harmony', and 'love your neighbours'? First of all, I'm not a gay unlike yourself, loving your neighbours indeed! I'm sure in your world,  I assume you love everyone you see, let alone know. You live in harmony, and give each other hugs and kisses in with your nancy boy buddies. You love everything, because everything is just too perfect for you right? You love the old man at the coffee shop, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;the barber, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;the postman, the rubbish collector, the door salesman, the stalker, the rapist, and lastly down to the burglar who robbed your home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I envy your big heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" class="pn_std"&gt;Drak&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;: seek first his righteousness and all things you need shall be given unto you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you mean by seeking righteousness? Who are you to determine what is right and wrong? Who are you to make that kind of a statement? And then you say all things I need shall be given to me. What about the poor and sickly, I'm sure they didn't want this upon themselves, so are you saying that this is the cause for them for not being righteous?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;b style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;" class="pn_std"&gt;Drak&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;: Judge Not When You Lack Understanding, Discriminate Not When You Lack Perfection, Condemn Not When You Lack Righteousness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who are you to talk about judgment, now that you've just judged me? You talk like you're a saint, however whatever you'd commented was nonsensical and irrelevant. You're pissing me off with this bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You remind me of this character in the cartoon 'The Simpsons'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SFPrUnH17WI/AAAAAAAAAVA/snpAg3r5voQ/s1600-h/flanders.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SFPrUnH17WI/AAAAAAAAAVA/snpAg3r5voQ/s400/flanders.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211767933129583970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SFPrUsixUcI/AAAAAAAAAVI/7Ha9hdP2eSo/s1600-h/flanders1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SFPrUsixUcI/AAAAAAAAAVI/7Ha9hdP2eSo/s400/flanders1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211767934584705474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SFPrU6aROKI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/VJL9AfrGShQ/s1600-h/flanders3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SFPrU6aROKI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/VJL9AfrGShQ/s400/flanders3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211767938307143842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go find a new hobby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SFPqTWL59NI/AAAAAAAAAUw/Z91zPCH-Ews/s1600-h/flanders3.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-8677583254176328642?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8677583254176328642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8677583254176328642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/06/shut-hell-up.html' title='Shut the hell up.'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SFPrUnH17WI/AAAAAAAAAVA/snpAg3r5voQ/s72-c/flanders.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-3151208929610209802</id><published>2008-06-04T03:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T23:16:51.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You are a disgusting dirty fat bastard</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I consider myself a reasonable man.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;But I’ll retaliate towards anyone who offends me. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;His name is FAT&lt;b style=""&gt;SO&lt;/b&gt;, aka AS&lt;b style=""&gt;S&lt;/b&gt;H&lt;b style=""&gt;O&lt;/b&gt;LE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.5in;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZxiwh73dI/AAAAAAAAASI/QdGrS8IVBG8/s1600-h/fat4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZxiwh73dI/AAAAAAAAASI/QdGrS8IVBG8/s320/fat4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207974861057285586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Ever known someone so fat and disgusting that you swear you’d never want to see him/her again? This is that someone I’m referring to.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt; I’ve never met anyone more disgusting than him in my entire life.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I heard from all the other guys in the bunk that he was an outcast since the very first day (he came 2 weeks before me). If you’re thinking that I’m being biased and it’s just me, you’re wrong. I’m not the only one against him, and can count more than 5 people who agree with what I have to say.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;You must be thinking what in the world he has done to piss me off. To the person I’m referring to, I really hope you’re reading this.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;1. he is dangerously obese&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZxjAh73gI/AAAAAAAAASg/zTRVcZRK5Dw/s1600-h/fat3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZxjAh73gI/AAAAAAAAASg/zTRVcZRK5Dw/s320/fat3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207974865352252930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Being fat is nothing to be proud of. Why don’t you do something about it and stop being a social parasite? That’s the problem with you fat people. Throwing your weight around as though you’re somewhat special and more significant than others. Get a life asshole, or you may die of heart disease.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;    2. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;he does not brush his teeth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. he does not bathe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. he is a filthy bastard&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I had observed (by accident) that he doesn’t brush his teeth every morning. When I told Jian Liang (ex bunk member) about it, he continued observing for a week and then told everyone else about it. It was then that someone else voiced out that he also doesn’t bathe/shower after work. (he is a vehicle mechanic)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;When confronted, he claimed that he brushes his teeth every time he bathes. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HOW THE FUCK DO YOU BRUSH YOUR TEETH WHEN YOU NEVER EVEN BATHE? YOU FUCKING FILTHY LYING BASTARD. TELL ME.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;    5. he snores FUCKING LOUDLY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;    6. he talks in his sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;    7. he is inconsiderate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Look here chump, if you know you have a snoring problem, then have you ever thought before you chose to be posted overseas, how &lt;b style=""&gt;it’ll affect your bunk mates&lt;/b&gt; since &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;WE ARE ALL SLEEPING IN THE SAME FUCKING BUNK EVERYNIGHT FOR A WHOLE YEAR???&lt;/span&gt; This is not some stay in camp where we book out every weekend and only have to stay in from Monday to Thursday nights. 2 people have already shifted farther away to sleep on the sofa on their first night here because of you. It’s not so bad if you at least try &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. AND TALKING IN YOUR SLEEP IS A SICKNESS.&lt;/span&gt; Get treatment you sick fuck. I hope you die.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;    8. he is a pig&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;After a day at work, messing around with grease, oil and lubricants, then going straight to bed without showering only proves one thing. Great job making your bed a pigsty. I see that extra bit of grease and oil makes better replacement than rolling around in mud. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Imagine a large black trash bin, full of trash. Now, empty the bin and shove all the trash under a bed.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZxjQh73hI/AAAAAAAAASo/pqMgk5RcUu4/s1600-h/fat10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZxjQh73hI/AAAAAAAAASo/pqMgk5RcUu4/s320/fat10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207974869647220242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;(Click on the picture to enlarge image)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;More actual pictures of the shit under his bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZ5vwh73kI/AAAAAAAAATA/KbItf4NbWCg/s1600-h/fat6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZ5vwh73kI/AAAAAAAAATA/KbItf4NbWCg/s320/fat6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207983880488607298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZ5vwh73lI/AAAAAAAAATI/CLLafXtwZ0w/s1600-h/fat7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZ5vwh73lI/AAAAAAAAATI/CLLafXtwZ0w/s320/fat7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207983880488607314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:Arial;" &gt;I GOT A GOOD MIND TO REPORT YOU TO THE &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:place style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;PEST&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:Arial;" &gt; CONTROL, JERK!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;    9. he is a fucking bragger&lt;br /&gt;10. he likes to show off&lt;br /&gt;11. he boasts to everyone about how great he is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Gone are the days in secondary school where having a girlfriend is considered as cool and accepted. Nobody gives a shit if you have one as far as I know. You’re still stuck in the secondary school era, which also explains why you failed your O’levels. HAHA! Looks like you’re not that great after all, dipshit? Stop trying to impress everyone with everything, because you’re nothing but fat.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Once we were all watching tv, and there was an erotic kissing scene with one really hot chick. Everyone started commenting on how hot she was, and just at that moment he happened to walk past, then he said, ’wah lan eh! reminds me of my ex sia.’ All of us were like looking at each other with a stone blank face. Like this: -_-&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;First of all, nobody is buying that bullshit so piss off, bitch! Secondly, it is really contradicting at the fact that which dumb girl would want to sleep with a disgusting slob like you? Which brings me to my next point…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;    12. he is a pedophile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;He told someone that his ex is a 15 yr old. You fucking loser! Can’t get laid? That explains why you’re corrupting a minor you rapist!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;    13. he is narcissistic&lt;br /&gt;14. he thinks he is cute&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZxiwh73eI/AAAAAAAAASQ/-6t3U0wlLSo/s1600-h/fat1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZxiwh73eI/AAAAAAAAASQ/-6t3U0wlLSo/s320/fat1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207974861057285602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;You don’t look cute, and stop thinking that all girls like you. Man, where did you find such self confidence from I wonder? From that minor you got? FAGGOT. If you’re such a lady’s man, then why are you visiting prostitutes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;    15. he is greedy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Whenever someone is eating, he’ll be sure to go to that person and pretend to see what it is that he or she is eating, and then ask for some to ‘try’ even if he was not offered any.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I remember when I was a kid in primary school, there was always this other kid who always wants everything, and we’ll all try our best to avoid and hide when we see him, and not want to share things like sweets or lend him stationery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I thought that was just a childhood phase, and I never expected it to exist when we’re much older. Until now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Here's what happened the other day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZ-5Ah73mI/AAAAAAAAATQ/hKkTxXILbpY/s1600-h/fat12.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEaFTwh73rI/AAAAAAAAAT4/6WosfMbl-Z0/s1600-h/fat12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEaFTwh73rI/AAAAAAAAAT4/6WosfMbl-Z0/s320/fat12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207996593591803570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"  &gt;2. Friend asks for some.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEaFTwh73sI/AAAAAAAAAUA/pwoyQtBxE-M/s1600-h/fat13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEaFTwh73sI/AAAAAAAAAUA/pwoyQtBxE-M/s320/fat13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207996593591803586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZ_sAh73pI/AAAAAAAAATo/G9CP-FUTF00/s1600-h/fat14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZ_sAh73pI/AAAAAAAAATo/G9CP-FUTF00/s320/fat14.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207990413133864594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEaCSwh73qI/AAAAAAAAATw/TAu4CL0paf0/s1600-h/fat15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEaCSwh73qI/AAAAAAAAATw/TAu4CL0paf0/s320/fat15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207993277877051042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"  &gt;6. Fat ass asks for some.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:180%;"  &gt;7. Puts hand into bag of chips before I even fucking reply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Its amazing how he could survive this far in life without experiencing a good beating. I hope you choke on your phlegm and saliva you shit head!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;    16. he is a hypocrite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZxjAh73fI/AAAAAAAAASY/G8fejOGOmPE/s1600-h/fat2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZxjAh73fI/AAAAAAAAASY/G8fejOGOmPE/s320/fat2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207974865352252914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Wow, not only did you tried to take credit to something so trivial that nobody gives a fuck who did it, but then you shrunk creditability when the one of the Junior Spec was displeased with it instead? Then you started to act like a detective, trying to find out who was the one who actually did it? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Great job you bootlicking bastard, maybe you could lick your own balls at the same time since you like to brag that you can do anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;    17. he calls everyone his 'bro'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Look here asshole, we don’t have the same mother as you, so why the fuck are you calling everyone your ‘bro’? We’re not even related, and we don't have the same surnames you fat bastard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;    18. he disrespects other people's privacy and belongings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;There’s a reason why people are avoiding you, let alone allow you to climb onto their beds and use their laptops without permission, nigger!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Since you do not respect other's privacy, then why should I too? So I crept near his bed, keeping in mind not to get contaminated with the pungent toxic coming from this pig sty, and managed to snap a couple of photos.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZ5vQh73iI/AAAAAAAAASw/4IYMwb7YvHk/s1600-h/fat9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZ5vQh73iI/AAAAAAAAASw/4IYMwb7YvHk/s320/fat9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207983871898672674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZ5vgh73jI/AAAAAAAAAS4/-yeJFT2A1mQ/s1600-h/fat5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZ5vgh73jI/AAAAAAAAAS4/-yeJFT2A1mQ/s320/fat5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207983876193639986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt; 19. he thinks he has many friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;After Jian Liang, Frank and Desmond left and no one else to criticize you openly, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THAT DOES NOT MEAN YOU’RE ACCEPTED&lt;/span&gt; by the rest. Piss off asshole, even your own gang of 2 ‘closest’ friends are talking behind your back. And don’t act like you’re my friend, because I don’t have friends like you. To me, you’re just a pest sleeping in our bunk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;    20. sleeping whenever he has the chance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Ever heard of a vehicle mechanic working under a vehicle till he falls asleep? Or sleeping during fall in? If you want to sleep, make sure you don’t ever wake up. That’s all I beg from you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;    21. he only returns borrowed money when asked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Either you’ve got a memory of a fish, or stop pretending that you forgot about the money you borrowed, fucker. Whenever someone asks for their money back, you’ll give an exclamation like ‘YA HOR!’ or ‘Got meh?’ Good job dick, the last thing anyone would want to hear is the person that borrowed from you denying that he even borrowed money at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;    22. he is an attention seeker&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;During the annual CNY ’08 camp dinner, one of the main program for the night was to have one unlucky bastard to dress up like a fairy. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;HE JUMPED AT THE &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:place style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;OPPORTUNITY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:Arial;" &gt; AT ONCE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZ-5Qh73oI/AAAAAAAAATg/-6L3cD_4vpE/s1600-h/fat11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZ-5Qh73oI/AAAAAAAAATg/-6L3cD_4vpE/s320/fat11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207989541255503490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Dressing up as a woman willingly only makes you lesser of a man. You didn’t have to resort to that just to seek attention you faggot.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;And no, I am not exaggerating. I swear all this is the truth.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Now you’re probably thinking, a fat fuck like him with so many bad points, he must have some good points too right?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Yeah. He’s good doing all the 22 points I just mentioned.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;You lumbering ape, we've all been tolerating you for really long time. Its about time you get up and do something about it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;I hope you die.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-3151208929610209802?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3151208929610209802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3151208929610209802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/06/you-are-disgusting-dirty-fat-bastard.html' title='You are a disgusting dirty fat bastard'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/SEZxiwh73dI/AAAAAAAAASI/QdGrS8IVBG8/s72-c/fat4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-3517524841849243742</id><published>2008-05-27T10:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T03:37:09.634-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates on the way</title><content type='html'>Hold your horses people, updates coming soon.... can't get my lazy ass to upload pictures into my laptop. Its gonna be a massive pictorial post so stay tuned..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-3517524841849243742?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3517524841849243742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3517524841849243742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/05/updates-on-way.html' title='Updates on the way'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-4586259004293605774</id><published>2008-04-24T01:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T02:43:09.607-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If I ruled Singapore</title><content type='html'>I think I should rule Singapore. No one will be as good as me. Everyone will definitely agree what a great ruler I will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, I'll be so rich, richer than anyone else in the country because a good leader has to set a good example to everyone. Nobody will take you seriously if the person governing the country is as poor as a church mouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In order to do that, I'll have to increase taxes, so that none of it goes to waste on building things we don't need like having more schools. Schools only promote gangsterism and other unacceptable etiquette amongst youths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I'm done being the richest person in Singapore, I'll laugh at everyone who was (or thinks he was) richer than me before I became governor. Who's richer now chump? Then I'll start donating money to charity and those people in poverty, because I know what its like being poor. Next, I'll increase the price of cars, road tax, COE and ERP so nobody can afford to drive. You think we care about your fancy sports car, or how fast you can go? Big deal. Lets see how you drive now, loser!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll start demolishing MRT tracks just to inconvenience people, while I ride around in my limousine. I'll make it compulsory for females to serve National Service, so that they don't become weaklings and go off scott free like before, while all this time we've been suffering like shit for the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last of all, I'll come up with an escape plan by selling the country away like what they did to Christmas Island if I feel that everything is falling apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure I'd make a good governor of Singapore. Let me know what you think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-4586259004293605774?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4586259004293605774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4586259004293605774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/04/if-i-ruled-singapore.html' title='If I ruled Singapore'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-3086680266990575931</id><published>2008-04-20T09:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T08:40:34.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another stereotype quiz (modified)</title><content type='html'>I'd been procrastinating for almost more than a month now. Can't get my lazy ass to update until someone tagged me on her blog, which requires me to complete this 'quiz'. I never liked doing such quizzes because its always boring, and nobody gives a shit anyway. So I've decided to add a few more pointers into the list to make it a little interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so many things to update but kinda tired and busy from work to actually do something. Another thing to add is that I went back for home leave for 2 weeks. Work has really taken a toll now that we have continuous training frames since February till June. That means non-stop working including weekends. Only time we can rest is by taking off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough crapping, on with the quiz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6 fun facts about me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Things I'm passionate about:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Weapons (I love guns and everything about them)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Marine/coral reefs (I want to go snorkeling!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;li&gt;Paintball&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Scramblers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. Books I've recently read:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Alphabet of Manliness&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ikea 2008 catalogue??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;I haven't been reading books in a long time. I miss reading Christopher Pike's books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3. Songs I could listen over and over again:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hugh Grant &amp;amp; Haley Bennett - Way Back Into Love&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Vanessa Carlton - A Thousand Miles&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;I don't think anyone can listen to a single song over and over again repeatedly until they die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. Traits I'm attracted to in my friends:&lt;/div&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Non-judgemental&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Helpful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;English speaking&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rich&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Open-minded&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. Things I say often: &lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;(all the bad stuff)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;you Nigger!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Gay&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;What the fuck??!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Chee bye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Shit!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You suck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6. Things I'd like to do before I die: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Visit all the beautiful crystal clear beaches in the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Visit the Great Barrier Reef&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go on a rampage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Kill everyone I dislike including my enemies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;To make the list more interesting, here's more:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7. Things I hate:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Old people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fat people&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Soccer/people who plays soccer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People who snore &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;LOUDLY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Noisy &amp;amp; obnoxious people&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Noise in general&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Working&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Living in poverty&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Gay&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People who say, 'Money isn't everything.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;8. Things I want:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Money&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9. Things I need:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Money&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10. Things I wish for:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Money&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;11. Things I don't have:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Money&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;12. Things I don't need:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Not money&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;13. What will I do if I have lots of money:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Not working&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Laughing at others without money&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Donating some money to charity/poverty&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Getting anything I want&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bomb the world&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;14. Biggest regret in life:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Being a Chinese&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Not being born in Europe&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Not having enough money&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;15. Things I can't stand:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;People speaking to me in Chinese&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Listening to Chinese songs&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Chinese culture&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Chinese celebrating Christmas (excluding Christians/Catholics)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;16. Some extreme sports that I've tried:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bike Trial&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Paintball&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go-karting&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jet Skiing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;17. Name 3 things that I do everyday:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Take a bath&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Brush my teeth&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;18. Name 3 things that nobody knows about you:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;li&gt;I watch Futurama and Charlie Brown &amp;amp; Snoopy cartoons&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I despise people who don't brush their teeth before sleeping at night&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I think all guys with ear-piercings are gay&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;19. If you can have only ONE super power, what will it be:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Able to control time so I can do anything I want&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;20. What will your fantasy life be:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Being so rich that I don't have to work and care about not having anything I want&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Floating in the crystal clear waters in the Carribeans every morning on my back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Owning a coral reef bigger than the Great Barrier Reef&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Living in a house built on the sea, so I can just dive into the water every morning&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(64, 49, 38);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;To the person who tagged me, you've been tagged back. You know who you are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-3086680266990575931?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3086680266990575931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3086680266990575931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/04/id-been-procrastinating-for-almost-more.html' title='Another stereotype quiz (modified)'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-8667880163537957335</id><published>2008-03-05T11:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T20:24:11.853-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The record breaking day</title><content type='html'>Its been a really long day for me. This morning, some time after posting the CNY post in my blog, I was lying on my bed watching Futurama when I felt my head moving sideways, left and right. At first, I thought it was just a hallucination but I was sure it wasn't.&lt;br /&gt;Then I suddenly realised.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;EARTHQUAKE!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Record No. 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;05 Mar 08 - First earthquake experienced in my whole entire life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I sat up, got out from my bed to enquire more when I felt a little dizzy. Everyone else were fast asleep in their beds and didn't even notice anything at all. Even Kenneth and Desmond who was still awake didn't feel the shock. It wasn't a really big tremor to be honest, and I even thought I was just being paranoid. So I went back to watch Futurama. I found out later when I woke up that there was indeed an earthquake that hit some part of Taiwan, with a scale of 5.0.&lt;br /&gt;Holy shit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had earlier planned to go to Kaoshiung again today, and this is the first time the 3 of us from Vespa Store went on off together. (We're not allowed to clear our offs at the same time)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Record No. 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;05 Mar 08 - First time 3 of us (Vespa Store) took off together since I came 5 months ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We first went to this street where it was something like Sim Lim Square. Went to buy some computer stuff and 2 others went to get their laptops. After that we went to the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'BIG'&lt;/span&gt; shopping centre (The name of the shopping centre is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;'BIG'&lt;/span&gt; translated Chinese) and went to shop for some clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always wanted to get some new clothes for myself so I spent NT$950 on 4 Giodano T-shirts which I think were nice. Kenneth, my fellow Vespa Store colleague, is very knowledgeable on fashion and designer brands, so he gave advice to us when we needed his opinion on the clothes we chose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After lunch at an Italian restaurant, we headed up to the opened space compound at level 17, which had a magnificent view of the city. Note that the 'haze' you're looking at in the background is actually due to air pollution. The air in Taiwan is 40% polluted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R88EGyk_RlI/AAAAAAAAARo/wvbdXhuZgd0/s1600-h/05-03-08_1809.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 238px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R88EGyk_RlI/AAAAAAAAARo/wvbdXhuZgd0/s320/05-03-08_1809.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174359011574629970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R88EnCk_RmI/AAAAAAAAARw/6yS5ooQxSeY/s1600-h/05-03-08_1811.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R88EnCk_RmI/AAAAAAAAARw/6yS5ooQxSeY/s320/05-03-08_1811.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174359565625411170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;After that we continued on with our shopping. This time, I wanted to get a new pair of shoes and saw this particular pair from Levis. Just a plain simple pair of shoes which cost NT$850. Got myself another 2 pairs of jeans at this place which is something like the Bugis village in Singapore. Total amount I spent on clothes today? NT$3690 = S$175!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Record No. 3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;05 Mar 08 - First time in my entire life I spent S$175 on clothes in a single day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Now you'll be thinking, $175? Big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just that you know, I've never spent that amount of money on buying clothes before. Hell, I hardly even buy my own clothes. I think its just wasting time and money, shopping for clothes. But today, I actually felt happy for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Record No. 4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;05 Mar 08 - First time I felt happy going shopping for my own clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;I must thank Kenneth, for giving me advice and even helping me to select my jeans. I even learnt a few things about clothing, the design, tightness, length - all these factors that plays a part in whether that clothing will suit you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Record No. 5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;05 Mar 08 - First time I grew interested in fashion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Don't worry. I'm not turning into some fashion guru or something. Just that its nice to have a 'makeover', and pay more attention to my sense of dressing. (I'm just ignorant fashion wise) I really enjoyed this, maybe its who I went with today, but nevertheless, I now have the feeling that I'll replace my whole wardrobe at home now with new clothes hahaha. Yah yah, I know you people are reading this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Result for today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R88J8ik_RnI/AAAAAAAAAR4/m3lHvKjY_8g/s1600-h/06-03-08_0055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R88J8ik_RnI/AAAAAAAAAR4/m3lHvKjY_8g/s320/06-03-08_0055.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174365432550737522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;5 bags of clothes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R89xsSk_RoI/AAAAAAAAASA/kkYx2-nA2zg/s1600-h/06-03-08_0058.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R89xsSk_RoI/AAAAAAAAASA/kkYx2-nA2zg/s320/06-03-08_0058.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174479502587152002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to show off my Levi's shoes! Hahaha too bad you all can't see whats inside!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;Thats all for now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/2327320832747026307-8667880163537957335?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8667880163537957335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8667880163537957335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/03/record-breaking-day.html' title='The record breaking day'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R88EGyk_RlI/AAAAAAAAARo/wvbdXhuZgd0/s72-c/05-03-08_1809.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-3418186221384959806</id><published>2008-03-04T07:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T08:55:39.200-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chinese New Year</title><content type='html'>Well, time for another backdated update again. I know its March now and Chinese New Year was like last month but I finally got my lazy ass to transfer the pictures from my handphone to my laptop. Hence the pictures you're about to see now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another boring Chinese New Year though, but in a different kind of way.  In case you're wondering, the Taiwanese celebrate their Chinese New Year differently from Singapore. There's no hype here compared to the shit in Singapore. Minimal decorations, no shitty gong xi music in department stores, no burning that shit thing that they always burn during CNY, no heavily coloured reds, and no sickly feeling that you're being brainwashed by Chinese propaganda. Just pure firecrackers and fireworks, straight to the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the whole week in camp doing nothing, but one of the highlights was that MSG Loh invited us to his house for a so-called reunion dinner so that we wouldn't be so left out from the CNY hype.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had the usual steamboat, the food was great too, but I won't be talking much about that because all steamboat sessions are more or less the same old boring stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main highlight for the 'event' was the fireworks. MSG Neo bought a huge plastic bag full of assorted fireworks, and we fired them off the rooftop of MSG Loh's 4 storey house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R81xB16TgLI/AAAAAAAAAPA/mVVmERI3zxI/s1600-h/06-02-08_2031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 310px; height: 231px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R81xB16TgLI/AAAAAAAAAPA/mVVmERI3zxI/s320/06-02-08_2031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173915823384002738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's MSG Neo giving his trademark grin as he held on to this 'rocket' firework.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R81y7F6TgOI/AAAAAAAAAPY/SEwWRXSzIjU/s1600-h/06-02-08_2029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 327px; height: 244px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R81y7F6TgOI/AAAAAAAAAPY/SEwWRXSzIjU/s320/06-02-08_2029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173917906443141346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R8199l6TgZI/AAAAAAAAAQw/SMTNA6jqqsM/s1600-h/06-02-08_2030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 244px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R8199l6TgZI/AAAAAAAAAQw/SMTNA6jqqsM/s320/06-02-08_2030.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173930044020720018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Everyone took turns firing the 'rockets'.  It was so damn fast and powerful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R810Pl6TgSI/AAAAAAAAAP4/Ga0ElIAy9YU/s1600-h/06-02-08_2036.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R810Pl6TgSI/AAAAAAAAAP4/Ga0ElIAy9YU/s320/06-02-08_2036.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173919358142087458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R810Dl6TgRI/AAAAAAAAAPw/xbbmCDOQMFA/s1600-h/06-02-08_2035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R810Dl6TgRI/AAAAAAAAAPw/xbbmCDOQMFA/s320/06-02-08_2035.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173919151983657234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first time I've ever seen such fireworks. I always thought fireworks were only that 'rocket' shaped kind from the previous pictures. Anyway, this one really took the cake. It kinda looks like a man made bee hive. This baby shoots 12 fireworks continuously, and is even more powerful than the 'rocket' type. It even comes in rounds of 50 or 80.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R811fl6TgTI/AAAAAAAAAQA/UACoP-9Vwek/s1600-h/06-02-08_2037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 324px; height: 242px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R811fl6TgTI/AAAAAAAAAQA/UACoP-9Vwek/s320/06-02-08_2037.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173920732531622194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R811uV6TgUI/AAAAAAAAAQI/zNrX5dcPt_o/s1600-h/01-03-08_2003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R811uV6TgUI/AAAAAAAAAQI/zNrX5dcPt_o/s320/01-03-08_2003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173920985934692674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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;Its gonna explode!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swore I took more pictures, but I just couldn't find them in my phone. Anyway, most of the pictures are blur and out of focus, because we were literally more concerned about taking cover than taking pictures! No one knew how powerful the fireworks were going to be when fired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 more fireworks I can remember is the bee and the pyramid. Its like a bumble bee made of paper with a fuse. When fired, the bee will spin round and round like a top in the air. The pyramid one is quite the same, except that it can spin higher because its so damn powerful. Too bad I don't have pictures of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R813nl6TgWI/AAAAAAAAAQY/y9rwR1J7RAc/s1600-h/01-03-08_2002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R813nl6TgWI/AAAAAAAAAQY/y9rwR1J7RAc/s320/01-03-08_2002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173923068993831266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R813z16TgXI/AAAAAAAAAQg/NYHynEw8N60/s1600-h/01-03-08_2001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R813z16TgXI/AAAAAAAAAQg/NYHynEw8N60/s320/01-03-08_2001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173923279447228786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just 2 more pictures of a huge temple that happened to have a 10 minutes display of non-stop firing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Thats all for now. I have more pictures of other stuff, but I'm too lazy to post them now. Till the next backdated update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-3418186221384959806?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3418186221384959806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3418186221384959806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/03/chinese-new-year.html' title='Chinese New Year'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R81xB16TgLI/AAAAAAAAAPA/mVVmERI3zxI/s72-c/06-02-08_2031.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-438664355264720877</id><published>2008-03-03T08:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T08:23:13.976-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time flies again</title><content type='html'>I'll be heading back home in a few days time for about 2 weeks. Home Leave they call it - its where everyone will get a chance to return back to Singapore, fully subsidized by the SAF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its like 5 months since I first got here. Man, it really feels so goddamn fast. This is the first time I've ever been away from home for such a long time. I think I'm already starting to forget how it looks like. Its like being locked up in jail for 5 months, then suddenly being released, and not knowing what you've missed. Trust me, most of you won't ever experience that feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Latest news that I've heard is that there's some island wide manhunt for some guy who I am not sure of, because the news from Singapore is kinda backdated here. (2 weeks?) Anyway, frankly speaking I'm not looking forward to coming back although I really miss my friends. Its the kind of situation where you're too scared to face reality, or too afraid that you can't catch up with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-438664355264720877?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/438664355264720877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/438664355264720877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/03/time-flies-again.html' title='Time flies again'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-8051039456918591466</id><published>2008-02-24T07:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T08:45:24.495-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you an Asshole?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Everyday we meet people, some of them whom you’d stop to consider if that person is an asshole. Ever met someone that really pisses you of, but can’t make up your mind whether its just you, or if he/she is a pure dipshit? Think no more. Here’s a quick guide to a checklist of factors to determine an asshole when you see one.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Does he/she&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;1. Play DOTA?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;DOTA is a stupid game for gay pussies. Not only is it lame, but playing the same map over and over again is just a pure waste of time. I’d rather do something better like sleep or watch tv. DOTA players are quick to retaliate to defending their cause every time you bitch about the game. One of the excuses I’ve heard is that there are 164 different characters in the game, so they never get bored playing all the characters. Here’s a simple analysis. If each game takes about 30 minutes to complete with one character, and 4290 minutes to play all the characters, that’s nearly 3 days of your life being suckered away, and even if you’d be so stupid to play 24 hrs straight, it doesn’t consider the fact that most games takes more than 30 minutes to complete. Period.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;2. Brush his/her teeth every night before sleeping?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;One of the worst things a person can do is not brush their teeth before they sleep every night. That’s even worse than not brushing in the morning. Many are quick to argue that they brush their teeth in the morning, or worse, after breakfast. I’m here to tell you that you’re fucking wrong. All that food particles stuck in your teeth after lunch, dinner and supper remains overnight if you don’t brush them before you sleep. Not forgetting that most people sleep with their mouth’s open, introducing bacteria and germs in, speeding up the process which leads to tooth and gums decay. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I know one guy in my bunk who doesn’t brush his teeth at all. Every morning he’d wake up, change into his uniform and go down to work. He’s a fat fuck, weighing more than 100kg. I also caught him a few times going straight to bed after work without showering.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I thought that if he’s going to be such a disgusting chap, I might as well help him with his filth. So I spat on his bed when he wasn’t looking, and stomped on his pillow with my boots. If only he knew why he doesn’t have friends. Tough luck bitches.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.5in;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt; Listen to Chinese songs?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;4. Watch anime?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I believed this issue has been exhausted.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.5in;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;5.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt; Brag to feel superior towards others?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Those who brag about getting laid really don’t, because nobody will know if the person is telling the truth. These are the people who feel insecure, or afraid that others will look down on them for being a virgin. I know a guy who brags to everyone that his male organ is 8 inches long. I mean, who gives a fuck really? Does he mean that by saying that, he’s superior to everyone else? Anyway, someone found out that he was lying. What an insecure dumbass.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.5in;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;6.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt; Snore loudly?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;People who snore loudly should be shot at. Who do they think they are, snoring like a pork ass pig, and disturbing everyone else? If you think carefully, most people who snore loudly are fat people. Why do fat people snore? Beats me. But I do know that they stink and have no friends.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.5in;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;7.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt; Forget to wipe his/her ass after shitting?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This is one of the worse assholes I’ve ever seen. Stay away from these people as far as possible.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.5in; text-indent: -0.5in;"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLists]--&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;8.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt; Shower before going to sleep?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If you ever happen to know people who don’t shower before they sleep, chances are that you’ve as dirty as them. Why? These are the same people who dig their noses, then touch door knobs, light switches or even shake your hand with it. They are the reason why you find sweat stains on the couch, or even on your own stuff, infecting you with their disease. There’s really nothing you can do about this, except shower 10 times a day, and don’t forget to use dettol.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;9. Forget to wash his/her hands after peeing?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Same as above.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;10. Prefer Japanese to French?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I hate people who talk about Japanese stuff like they worship them. They go on and on talking about Japanese food, songs, fashion and everything they like about Japanese. Ever heard someone say that they’ll like to visit &lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Japan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;? That’s a sure fire way to tell if he/she is an asshole.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-8051039456918591466?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8051039456918591466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8051039456918591466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/02/everyday-we-meet-people-some-of-them.html' title='Are you an Asshole?'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-2890959769656019117</id><published>2008-02-22T05:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T06:56:46.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Night Market</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77S6Dfq7pI/AAAAAAAAALg/XJKo_KclLJg/s1600-h/11-01-08_2247.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 424px; height: 309px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77S6Dfq7pI/AAAAAAAAALg/XJKo_KclLJg/s320/11-01-08_2247.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169801317080297106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some time ago I took some pictures of a night market but was too lazy to get it up into this blog. I went to the night market at Kao shuing, about 2 hrs up north from my camp. Not really a very exciting place really, somehow similar to our Pasar Malam back in Singapore. The night market here sells mostly food, one in particular this son of a bitch shop selling smelly tofu that you can smell from miles away. We tried this famous beancurd stall which was really not bad, and they even had this really cute palm sized cup which I had to take a picture of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77UGzfq7tI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Ih8pP9IKtFY/s1600-h/11-01-08_2245.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 317px; height: 238px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77UGzfq7tI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Ih8pP9IKtFY/s320/11-01-08_2245.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169802635635257042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77UWTfq7uI/AAAAAAAAAMI/dbxp38OSXx0/s1600-h/11-01-08_2246.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77UWTfq7uI/AAAAAAAAAMI/dbxp38OSXx0/s320/11-01-08_2246.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169802901923229410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this particular stall caught my attention. It was selling exotic pets that you can't literally keep in Singapore. Some of those pets which I've seen before, and some other weird stuff you never thought possible. Till now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Scorpions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77VYTfq7wI/AAAAAAAAAMY/C7GVl1Oh0GI/s1600-h/11-01-08_1941.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77VYTfq7wI/AAAAAAAAAMY/C7GVl1Oh0GI/s320/11-01-08_1941.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169804035794595586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77VPjfq7vI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/-qL70IoLgmo/s1600-h/11-01-08_1940.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77VPjfq7vI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/-qL70IoLgmo/s320/11-01-08_1940.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169803885470740210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tarantulas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77Vujfq7xI/AAAAAAAAAMg/SwjhJ373VHI/s1600-h/11-01-08_1945.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77Vujfq7xI/AAAAAAAAAMg/SwjhJ373VHI/s320/11-01-08_1945.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169804418046684946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77V3jfq7yI/AAAAAAAAAMo/qxM8F9kQk24/s1600-h/11-01-08_1942.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77V3jfq7yI/AAAAAAAAAMo/qxM8F9kQk24/s320/11-01-08_1942.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169804572665507618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tortoise &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77aojfq7zI/AAAAAAAAAMw/72w5EmEtIDI/s1600-h/11-01-08_1946.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77aojfq7zI/AAAAAAAAAMw/72w5EmEtIDI/s320/11-01-08_1946.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169809812525608754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77azTfq70I/AAAAAAAAAM4/3T9avsg26JA/s1600-h/11-01-08_1947.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77azTfq70I/AAAAAAAAAM4/3T9avsg26JA/s320/11-01-08_1947.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169809997209202498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mongoose&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77b_zfq74I/AAAAAAAAANY/I49gscT7j5Y/s1600-h/11-01-08_1951.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77b_zfq74I/AAAAAAAAANY/I49gscT7j5Y/s320/11-01-08_1951.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169811311469195138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Piglets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77bwTfq73I/AAAAAAAAANQ/Fe0543FzaHo/s1600-h/11-01-08_2249.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77bwTfq73I/AAAAAAAAANQ/Fe0543FzaHo/s320/11-01-08_2249.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169811045181222770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hedgehog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77cUDfq75I/AAAAAAAAANg/kwufjz_aBFw/s1600-h/11-01-08_1949.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77cUDfq75I/AAAAAAAAANg/kwufjz_aBFw/s320/11-01-08_1949.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169811659361546130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;akes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77cgTfq76I/AAAAAAAAANo/LeraCPkmqPk/s1600-h/11-01-08_1948.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 342px; height: 257px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77cgTfq76I/AAAAAAAAANo/LeraCPkmqPk/s320/11-01-08_1948.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169811869814943650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77d_Dfq7-I/AAAAAAAAAOI/z_IrOAiGCtg/s1600-h/11-01-08_2251.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 257px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77d_Dfq7-I/AAAAAAAAAOI/z_IrOAiGCtg/s320/11-01-08_2251.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169813497607548898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77eNTfq7_I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/XJ0t7SOmAd0/s1600-h/11-01-08_2252.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 342px; height: 257px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77eNTfq7_I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/XJ0t7SOmAd0/s320/11-01-08_2252.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169813742420684786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77eNTfq7_I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/XJ0t7SOmAd0/s1600-h/11-01-08_2252.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77fqDfq8DI/AAAAAAAAAOw/ld_6Jq59eGw/s1600-h/11-01-08_2256.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77fqDfq8DI/AAAAAAAAAOw/ld_6Jq59eGw/s320/11-01-08_2256.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169815335853551666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77ikDfq8EI/AAAAAAAAAO4/bNtxLoMRcgw/s1600-h/11-01-08_2253.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 335px; height: 251px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77ikDfq8EI/AAAAAAAAAO4/bNtxLoMRcgw/s320/11-01-08_2253.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169818531309219906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love snakes. I've kept an Asian Vine snake before. If I were to keep a pet, I'd keep something cool and dangerous, not some stupid cat or dog. That reminds me. I hate dogs. Not only are they stupid, but useless as well, especially those toy dogs that most stupid people have. If I were to keep a dog, it'll be a German Shepperd or Husky or something big that can bite people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-2890959769656019117?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2890959769656019117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2890959769656019117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/02/night-market.html' title='The Night Market'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R77S6Dfq7pI/AAAAAAAAALg/XJKo_KclLJg/s72-c/11-01-08_2247.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-4627063763514899087</id><published>2008-01-30T08:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T08:18:31.130-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Paintball - The day where real men were determined</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;16th Jan 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6CmfzzoXaI/AAAAAAAAAJo/1PnFUtLkvUY/s1600-h/DSCF0404.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 293px; height: 220px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6CmfzzoXaI/AAAAAAAAAJo/1PnFUtLkvUY/s320/DSCF0404.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161308238379507106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6CllTzoXZI/AAAAAAAAAJg/07cCWqxsUTI/s1600-h/DSCF0407.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 294px; height: 222px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6CllTzoXZI/AAAAAAAAAJg/07cCWqxsUTI/s320/DSCF0407.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161307233357159826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&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;The day real men stood after the war, while others wept and cried like babies. It was the MTL cohesion day where we all went to play a few rounds of paintball.  I'd been waiting for this day for a long time, and I finally got to experience playing paintball! Gone were the days watching paintball clips on youtube. Hell yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6Cp-TzoXcI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/SHDNJkBg7l0/s1600-h/DSCF0429.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6Cp-TzoXcI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/SHDNJkBg7l0/s320/DSCF0429.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161312060900400578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6CpTDzoXbI/AAAAAAAAAJw/QYHiHyN6N5o/s1600-h/DSCF0428.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 269px; height: 201px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6CpTDzoXbI/AAAAAAAAAJw/QYHiHyN6N5o/s320/DSCF0428.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161311317871058354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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;A total strength of 31 of us attended. It was to be a 15 vs 15 game (one didn't play),  and I was in the black team. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TOTAL CHAOS.&lt;/span&gt; I'll explain that later. After some instructions on safety which no one bothered, we picked up the gear and changed into the uniforms. There was to be a total of 3 rounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6CymTzoXgI/AAAAAAAAAKY/A5rprva2f9w/s1600-h/DSCF0425.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6CymTzoXgI/AAAAAAAAAKY/A5rprva2f9w/s320/DSCF0425.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161321544188190210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Round 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one was in a battlefield area where each team had to stay on their own side, kinda like a 'no man zone' in the middle. We had to seek cover behind plastic blocks placed randomly on both sides while shooting at the other team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6CsvzzoXdI/AAAAAAAAAKA/yKmj9-VX4-o/s1600-h/DSCF0438.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6CsvzzoXdI/AAAAAAAAAKA/yKmj9-VX4-o/s320/DSCF0438.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161315110327180754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Something stupid happened just after the game started. 5 of us ran right behind the same damn cover for some unplanned reason, fighting to get cover because it was only big enough for 3 person max. So there I was, trying to take cover with 4 other guys, while being shot at furiously (I even tried to use the person beside me as a shield hahha!) and I got a first headshot. Smack! Right on the left side of the face, covering half of my vision. I figured enough was enough and ran to another bunker, leopard crawling and proning to reduce chances of being shot. It wasn't long after I heard people squealing, screaming and cussing when they got hit. Then suddenly POW! I felt it, a stinging sensation on my right arm.... But did I began to cry like a pussy? Hell no. I stood my ground, conserving my pods (ammunition) because each one only had like 50+ rounds. The actual way of playing paintball is to shoot continuously, but I didn't have 1000 rounds to spare. So 50 rounds could last like only 1 minute of gameplay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6CvbDzoXfI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/I5gOJbEThG8/s1600-h/DSCF0442.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6CvbDzoXfI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/I5gOJbEThG8/s320/DSCF0442.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161318052379778546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It wasn't that bad afterall because our team actually won the first round. Punishment? The Green team to face their backs at us while we shot them at a range of 5m. MTO lept like a frog after we pounded his ass haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Round 2 (Sorry no pictures for this round)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most exciting and worse game of all. It was in a REAL jungle, about the size of a soccer field. It was so big that I couldn't even find the perimeter fence. We played free for all. Which means any team could shoot each other without restriction. Lesson learnt: Always stick together. It was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;TOTAL CHAOS.&lt;/span&gt; I didn't want the same thing to happen again so I proned alone behind some bushes, thinking that no one would come to my spot, then I could snipe the enemies without them knowing heh heh heh. Soon the sound of gunshots started, and the game began. I waited there for awhile, when someone (MSG Loh)  ran past me, so I turned around and took pleasure in shooting the hell outta him without him knowing where the shots came from haha. I could see he was stumbling from pain inflicted when suddenly I felt sharp stings on my legs. WTF. I immediately turned and right above me was this&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6CtmTzoXeI/AAAAAAAAAKI/SEfrIrMotd0/s1600-h/DSCF0441.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6CtmTzoXeI/AAAAAAAAAKI/SEfrIrMotd0/s320/DSCF0441.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161316046630051298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; fatass of a fella, (CK Soh) shooting me!!!! I quickly stood up and had a 1 vs 1 battle at POINT BLANK range when suddenly 2 others came up beside him and started shooting me like no tomorrow. AMBUSH!!! I felt tears in my eyes at that moment and decided to do the cowardly thing. RETREAT!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I made a wild dash backwards at full speed, taking more hits on my limbs especially (we were only wearing body amour) when I felt people shooting at me from all sides. Why? Because my asshole teammates thought I was one of the enemy charging right at them. Total chaos. People were shooting like nobody's business, even at their own team mates because nobody knew who was who, and it was hard to differentiate the colour of our masks. Even those who ran out of ammo and raised their guns in the air to leave the game were not spared. I could only hear the words 'OUCH' and 'PAIN' being shouted for 5 minutes straight. I heard from someone that even the referee cowered in fear. It was that bad. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Round 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Same as round 1, just that those who ran out of ammo sat out of this. Our team was seriously outnumbered. Not forgetting that opposing team cheated and shot at us even before the referee commenced the game. We were slaughtered right before it began.... Annihilated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Aftermath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;After stripping out of the uniforms, we inspected our injuries. Some didn't even get hit because they were hiding all the way (Kenneth you reading this), while others got brusied pretty badly especially Alex haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6C07zzoXiI/AAAAAAAAAKo/kWaW_63bZSE/s1600-h/DSCF0132.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 247px; height: 329px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6C07zzoXiI/AAAAAAAAAKo/kWaW_63bZSE/s320/DSCF0132.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161324112578633250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6C1rzzoXjI/AAAAAAAAAKw/qkeATkXRQ8s/s1600-h/DSCF0136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 245px; height: 327px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6C1rzzoXjI/AAAAAAAAAKw/qkeATkXRQ8s/s320/DSCF0136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161324937212354098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&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;&lt;br /&gt;Personal injuries&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Left: Multiple hits on my back especially on the right side (pic hard to see)&lt;br /&gt;Right: Worst injury, just below the butt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6C3GzzoXlI/AAAAAAAAALA/exE0z1dgNe4/s1600-h/23-01-08_1723.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 287px; height: 215px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6C3GzzoXlI/AAAAAAAAALA/exE0z1dgNe4/s320/23-01-08_1723.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161326500580449874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6C3pDzoXmI/AAAAAAAAALI/C8OER90EhtQ/s1600-h/23-01-08_1718.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 287px; height: 216px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6C3pDzoXmI/AAAAAAAAALI/C8OER90EhtQ/s320/23-01-08_1718.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161327088990969442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&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;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;More pictures&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6C4RjzoXnI/AAAAAAAAALQ/bugO1c_5q70/s1600-h/23-01-08_1726.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 198px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6C4RjzoXnI/AAAAAAAAALQ/bugO1c_5q70/s320/23-01-08_1726.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161327784775671410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Above: The guns, running on pressurized gas&lt;br /&gt;Below: The pods, biodegradable, non-toxic, edible!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6C4nTzoXoI/AAAAAAAAALY/P7G7zlnZy1c/s1600-h/23-01-08_1727.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 263px; height: 198px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6C4nTzoXoI/AAAAAAAAALY/P7G7zlnZy1c/s320/23-01-08_1727.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161328158437826178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6Cz3TzoXhI/AAAAAAAAAKg/MTVmP3jbnMg/s1600-h/DSCF0432.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6Cz3TzoXhI/AAAAAAAAAKg/MTVmP3jbnMg/s320/DSCF0432.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161322935757594130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6C2njzoXkI/AAAAAAAAAK4/bnVUfy9jD3Y/s1600-h/DSCF0445.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 195px; height: 260px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6C2njzoXkI/AAAAAAAAAK4/bnVUfy9jD3Y/s320/DSCF0445.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161325963709537858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jester (AKA Jian Liang) giving his cry-baby pose for the camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exhausted Marcus showing his head shot hit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-4627063763514899087?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4627063763514899087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4627063763514899087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/01/paintball-day-where-real-men-were.html' title='Paintball - The day where real men were determined'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R6CmfzzoXaI/AAAAAAAAAJo/1PnFUtLkvUY/s72-c/DSCF0404.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-7432963250253314281</id><published>2008-01-07T06:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T07:31:47.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some pictures in Taiwan</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here's what you people are long awaiting for... pictures! Some random pictures with short descriptions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I3UVeTEGI/AAAAAAAAAH4/j5hGSNzYMoQ/s1600-h/28-09-07_1620.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 327px; height: 244px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I3UVeTEGI/AAAAAAAAAH4/j5hGSNzYMoQ/s320/28-09-07_1620.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152741746166403170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Took this picture the first day in Taiwan, pit stop at a 7-11 outlet next to the Pacific Ocean, during the 6 hr ride to camp. It was half raining, half sunny.... Check out the beams of light protruding from the dark clouds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I5aleTEHI/AAAAAAAAAIA/YLg0fIiZm8o/s1600-h/11-10-07_1724.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I5aleTEHI/AAAAAAAAAIA/YLg0fIiZm8o/s320/11-10-07_1724.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152744052563841138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Here's another picture taken on the bus 2 weeks later. The Pacific Ocean really has magnificent scenery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I6P1eTEII/AAAAAAAAAII/vmX29Y-gFjQ/s1600-h/02-10-07_2033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 242px; height: 181px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I6P1eTEII/AAAAAAAAAII/vmX29Y-gFjQ/s320/02-10-07_2033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152744967391875202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check this out... What the hell does this look like? A tennis ball? A giant lime? A pong pong fruit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WRONG!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I6uleTEJI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/Nx1TpNxIySQ/s1600-h/02-10-07_2036.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I6uleTEJI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/Nx1TpNxIySQ/s320/02-10-07_2036.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152745495672852626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a green orange! Thats makes you rethink why an orange is called an orange. And yes, its fully ripe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I771eTEKI/AAAAAAAAAIY/ngUfKv3_Uho/s1600-h/02-10-07_2052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I771eTEKI/AAAAAAAAAIY/ngUfKv3_Uho/s320/02-10-07_2052.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152746822817747106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Some idiot took this picture using my phone.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I8RleTELI/AAAAAAAAAIg/Up5ir_6AeRs/s1600-h/28-09-07_2216.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I8RleTELI/AAAAAAAAAIg/Up5ir_6AeRs/s320/28-09-07_2216.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152747196479901874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Some Taiwan scrambler I saw at one of the night markets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I9rFeTEMI/AAAAAAAAAIo/4m83-Jo0EIM/s1600-h/03-11-07_1738.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I9rFeTEMI/AAAAAAAAAIo/4m83-Jo0EIM/s320/03-11-07_1738.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152748734078193858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We raised this kitten from young. Saved it from the typhoon as it was abandoned by its mother during birth. Its now the only cat in the camp thats not afraid of humans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I_B1eTENI/AAAAAAAAAIw/2VwTKivk7GE/s1600-h/04-10-07_2311.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I_B1eTENI/AAAAAAAAAIw/2VwTKivk7GE/s320/04-10-07_2311.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152750224431845586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My first toy. Been waiting to get my hands on this. Targets? The cats that ransack the trash bins at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I_jleTEOI/AAAAAAAAAI4/GX1YdLtFpsg/s1600-h/14-10-07_2208.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I_jleTEOI/AAAAAAAAAI4/GX1YdLtFpsg/s320/14-10-07_2208.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152750804252430562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love this. Its a M4 Carbine. Handguns were not enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4JB6FeTEPI/AAAAAAAAAJA/sMcvdcELT3k/s1600-h/07-01-08_2139.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4JB6FeTEPI/AAAAAAAAAJA/sMcvdcELT3k/s320/07-01-08_2139.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152753389822742770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Full collection. I've always been interested in guns and weapons. It great to have an appointment here as a Weapon Spare IC. I still have 2 katanas somewhere. Haha.... too bad can't bring them back to Singapore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4JDSVeTEQI/AAAAAAAAAJI/OjV5TmVOnA8/s1600-h/07-01-08_1703.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4JDSVeTEQI/AAAAAAAAAJI/OjV5TmVOnA8/s320/07-01-08_1703.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152754905946198274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last picture, took I today at 5pm. Some mysterious cross pattern in the sky. Thats all for now.&lt;br /&gt;I might post more pictures of my bunk and my bed next time if I have the mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-7432963250253314281?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/7432963250253314281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/7432963250253314281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2008/01/some-pictures-in-taiwan.html' title='Some pictures in Taiwan'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/R4I3UVeTEGI/AAAAAAAAAH4/j5hGSNzYMoQ/s72-c/28-09-07_1620.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-2930579632539848227</id><published>2007-12-23T09:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-23T10:37:24.199-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life in Taiwan!</title><content type='html'>Here I am again, a very long time since I last updated, and I'm doing it now because I finally got my laptop and Internet connection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll come straight to the point. Everyone keeps asking the same question over and over again on MSN. The question most frequently asked, in running order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. "How's Taiwan?"&lt;br /&gt;2. "Got find any Taiwan girlfriend or not?"&lt;br /&gt;3. "Is it raining over there now?" (recently)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I'm still alive and kicking, sorry to disappoint you guys, but I'd haven't thought of looking for a girlfriend here (although one or two girls did try to hit on me), and lastly, its not raining here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life in Taiwan really sucks. The work here is so hectic, clocking in 7 days a week (yes, no Saturdays and Sundays dammit) for the past month, working overtime almost everyday from 8am to 11pm. I had to admit though, that I lost track of time here, and it was when Tracy wished me an advanced Christmas greeting, that I realised it was Christmas Eve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas is a working day in Taiwan in case you're wondering. Chinese shouldn't celebrate Christmas, so neither should you. I don't see why this isn't the case in Singapore, unless you're Catholic or Christian. Another blind flaw in the Chinese culture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its supposed to be winter now but it feels like 'summer'. Its about 18'c here at night, and approximately 27'c in the day. Even the air-conditioned bunk feels warmer compared outside.  Its so windy here that sometimes you get blown backwards if you're not careful enough. 2 months ago a typhoon hit the northern part of Taiwan (I'm located at the southern tip), and it was so windy that I couldn't wash my hands properly because the water that came out from the taps were flowing at a near 90 degree angle. Plates began to fly in the cook house, and buildings literally shook from side to side, followed by a blackout for 2 days. And the typhoon wasn't even near.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss eating roti prata, BBQ stingray and western food. Food almost cost the same, transport's a killer. S$10 for a bus ride is crazy, and its double the amount for taxis. I can't stand Chinese. Everywhere I go, its Chinese words here and there, like eternal hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be posting some pictures I took soon, so keep checking..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-2930579632539848227?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2930579632539848227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2930579632539848227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/12/life-in-taiwan.html' title='Life in Taiwan!'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-3762323492007457050</id><published>2007-09-07T06:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T13:22:11.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Listen up assholes</title><content type='html'>I'm tired of flipping through the newspaper everyday only to read never ending  O-dex articles. The case keeps going on and on because you shit eaters never listen - that all of you are assholes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm talking about you anti O-dex fans who bitch and batter about the company, who has legal rights to the distribution of animes in Singapore. I think its all very clear. You downloaded priated material, and now someone with legal rights come after you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ASSHOLES BITCHING ABOUT?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate animes. I hate anime lovers. They're a bunch of losers who prefer to watch exaggerated and fantastical characters all day instead of doing 'real stuff' like eating or sleeping. I can never understand them, and I don't intend to. I do admit though, that I only watch one anime,&lt;br /&gt;Initial D, which is realistic enough so don't bother with your remarks on contradiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer is simple. If you downloaded pirated animes, then &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;FUCKING PAY UP&lt;/span&gt;. Don't bitch like a wimp when the law comes for you. Why can't you shit eaters just stop this never ending tussle and pay up, so people like me can read real news in the newspaper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't get it. I've read about people who claim they didn't know that its illegal to download pirated animes. Oh, then why I don't see the same people using that excuse about the mp3's they download online? What about movies? I think the fact is clear, that if downloading movies are illegal, the same goes for animes. Save your excuses and whatever, because the bottom line is, you assholes have committed cyber-crime, and its time to pay for your actions. No amount of bitching is enough to save your asses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes you so different from those convicts? So, suddenly you're pardoned just because you downloaded pirated anime?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"&gt;' A murderer who kills 10 people is no better off than a murderer who kills 20 if the murder is avoidable. '  -Maddox&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm glad O-dex is doing their job to nab anime lovers, because I can't stand them myself. Serve you right assholes, you deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/WEIXIO%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-3762323492007457050?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3762323492007457050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3762323492007457050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/09/listen-up-assholes.html' title='Listen up assholes'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-1385015480148574816</id><published>2007-08-07T23:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T00:30:50.919-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A question to all</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="custom_itxt"&gt;Q: What does being Singaporean mean to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came across this question today. Which brings me to this post. Ask yourself, what does being a Singaporean mean to you? This question immediately challenges the person with an intridguing tone, as though it is wrong not to be a Singaporean. Eat shit assholes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't say more about how much I hate this zoo. Why are people so happy that its National Day tomorrow? The only reason to be happy is that its a public holiday tomorrow. But no, they are happy for its only &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;ONCE IN A YEAR &lt;/span&gt;that they can celebrate the country's independence,   forgetting that they've been going on it for the last 41 years. SNORE. Ignorant bastards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't get it. Every year its the same dumbass parade at the National Stadium and the president goes around the track waving to the crowds on some pickup truck while I watched eagerly and hoped someone puts a slug to his chest 100m away on live TV. But it never happened, and I hate that. Then, to add fuel to the fire, the president makes a hasty retreat back home right after that, right in the middle of the parade. Wow, what does it even mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. That he's too busy to watch the celebration right to the end, while he goes home to his sauna?&lt;br /&gt;2. He's finds it too hot sitting at the Grand Stand for 3 hrs.&lt;br /&gt;3. He doesn't respect the country enough to watch the whole parade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't get it. Lets say you're a coach of a basketball team, and when the team made it to the finals, you left the game halfway to the nearest pub during the final match because the team was losing. Sounds familiar to him too. Too ashamed to face anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year they kept bragging about this floating platform they've build because they'd demolished the National Stadium(good riddance). Why don't they call it the National Platform, since the word 'National' is so commonly used to associate a sense of belonging to the country. Well I hope the platform sinks, and takes everything down with it. That'll be the best celebration amongst the 42 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll never forget what this country has to offer - a future of worries and doubts after the age of 23 to whether I can survive till the day I retire/die. I'll never forget that we need to pay $300,000 to live in a pigeon hole, $40,000 just to own a &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;SALOON&lt;/span&gt; car exluding ERP, because paying road tax alone just isn't enough to satify their greed, 7% GST (and increasing), expensive petroleum, increasing transport fares etc, setting us up to a life of never ending installment payments while we suffer in this shit hole. Not forgetting the 2 years I have to serve in NS with that miserable $350 allowance, and taking up 2 years of my damn life instead of getting a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, they never once cared about us, while the ministers are happily enjoying their pay raise which can never be finished, looking down on us as they laugh their asses of, because they know, that we'll never be as rich as them. Tough luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate Singapore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="custom_itxt"&gt;Q: What does being Singaporean mean to you?&lt;br /&gt;A: Being a slave to the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="custom_itxt"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/2327320832747026307-1385015480148574816?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1385015480148574816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1385015480148574816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/08/q-what-does-being-singaporean-mean-to.html' title='A question to all'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-4682179401263833465</id><published>2007-08-06T05:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-06T06:00:59.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A timely appearance</title><content type='html'>Saw someone familiar on the bus while on the way home today. Its been a while since I last saw her, and she thought I didn't notice her trying to hide away from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time really flies it seems, and even though doesn't mean anything to me I can't help thinking of how stupid I was before. Two separate individuals, living their own lives. And that's how I want it to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-4682179401263833465?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4682179401263833465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4682179401263833465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/08/timely-appearance.html' title='A timely appearance'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-6131732020589638116</id><published>2007-07-13T03:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-14T04:29:21.000-07:00</updated><title type='text'>List of Movies I like</title><content type='html'>People today are talking about movies like Harry Potter, Pirate of the Caribeans, LOTR and so forth. I'm here to say that these movies are pure shit. They don't even know what a good movie is anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided to compile a list of movies that I like. Some of these movies are classics, example the Back to the Future trilogy. Anyone who didn't watch Back to the Future, or have no idea what the fuck it is, have no right to comment about how great Harry Potter movies are. Period. Anyway, back to where I left off. I considered the Terminator trilogy but although Terminator 2 totally rocked, the third movie sucked. Then, there's the infamous Starwars Saga, consisting of 6 movies which were alright, but didn't quite made the cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to do simple review on each of the movies in the list, with pictures and so on but I don't have the time. Maybe later. Or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Action&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The Matrix Trilogy&lt;br /&gt;2. Back to the Future (I, II and III)&lt;br /&gt;3. The Island&lt;br /&gt;4. The Bourne Identity&lt;br /&gt;5. The Bourne Supremacy&lt;br /&gt;6. 300&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Comedy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Mr &amp; Mrs Smith&lt;br /&gt;2. Meet the Parents&lt;br /&gt;3. Meet the Fockers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Romance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The Lake House&lt;br /&gt;2. You've Got Mail&lt;br /&gt;3. Notting Hill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(List last updated 130707)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-6131732020589638116?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6131732020589638116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6131732020589638116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/07/list-of-movies-i-like_13.html' title='List of Movies I like'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-6760849542976141991</id><published>2007-07-12T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T07:31:07.235-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a Starlight Trooper</title><content type='html'>After months of waiting, I just received confirmation that I'll be disembarking to Starlight for overseas posting on the 7th of Sept. For those of you who don't know what Starlight is, its a camp based in Taiwan - where the incident of the Taiwan plane crashed into the store. Even though it happened at a different base to where I'll be posting to, a Dejavu might happen, who knows...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of my colleagues teased me about it, but I don't really care. If it happens, I want to make sure that I die, and not suffer 1st degree burns while I wither away in some hospital. Tough luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what will happen when I come back after a year. It seems like going undercover, nobody knows what you're up to, and then they'll eventually forget you after a few months and go back to lead their normal lives. How long is a year really?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really have no idea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-6760849542976141991?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6760849542976141991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6760849542976141991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/07/im-starlight-trooper.html' title='I&apos;m a Starlight Trooper'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-8318956175436829258</id><published>2007-06-11T02:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T02:43:09.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random pics</title><content type='html'>Here's some random pictures from my hp while I clearing it just now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rm0T6lfqKKI/AAAAAAAAAG4/TBsSC8TyT6E/s1600-h/07-05-07_1925.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 322px; height: 242px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rm0T6lfqKKI/AAAAAAAAAG4/TBsSC8TyT6E/s400/07-05-07_1925.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074734252334655650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Dusk at camp. Feels like I'm in some foreign country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rm0UUlfqKLI/AAAAAAAAAHA/jOjSioRwLwY/s1600-h/09-06-07_0810.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 211px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rm0UUlfqKLI/AAAAAAAAAHA/jOjSioRwLwY/s400/09-06-07_0810.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074734699011254450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If it wasn't bad enough, staying in a humid bunk with poor ventilation, some bird thought it wise to compete for space at our clothes line by building its home there. Funny thing was that it chose to built it right next to my friend's underwear (been removed since). Hah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rm0Wh1fqKNI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/qAOzsEQfAuU/s1600-h/10-10-06_1406.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 302px; height: 226px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rm0Wh1fqKNI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/qAOzsEQfAuU/s400/10-10-06_1406.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074737125667776722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Try beating my high score in Solitaire, asshole!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rm0XGFfqKOI/AAAAAAAAAHY/dvUGBkQQgOI/s1600-h/DSC00105.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 358px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rm0XGFfqKOI/AAAAAAAAAHY/dvUGBkQQgOI/s400/DSC00105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074737748438034658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me on my Yahama WR200 during Chinese New Year 2007.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rm0X1lfqKPI/AAAAAAAAAHg/AYxj5xPB9cg/s1600-h/14-10-06_0155.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 347px; height: 260px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rm0X1lfqKPI/AAAAAAAAAHg/AYxj5xPB9cg/s400/14-10-06_0155.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074738564481820914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 21st Birthday, October 2006.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Thats all for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-8318956175436829258?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8318956175436829258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8318956175436829258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/06/random-pics.html' title='Random pics'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rm0T6lfqKKI/AAAAAAAAAG4/TBsSC8TyT6E/s72-c/07-05-07_1925.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-5973541674191918628</id><published>2007-05-20T09:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T09:53:44.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate</title><content type='html'>Why do we live in a world with people who watch Death Note animes, Pirate of the Caribeans, play Maple, and drive fancy sports cars just to show that we'll never be rich like them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate this place. I hate paying taxes. Why do we have to pay ERP for? Pay and pay and pay, what do they take me for?  I hate doing things against my will.  I hate National Service. I hate old people. I've never given up my seat and I don't intend to. I hate kids. Little brats running around causing trouble like nobody's business, and not taking the blame for anything. I hate using chopsticks. I hate vegetables. I hate my enemies. I hope they die. I hate studying. I hate working. I hate pop music.  I hate Mandrin pop. I hate all the local Chinese radio stations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate being a Chinese. I hate Chinese. I hate their culture. Its stupid, and it doesn't have any sense. I hate speaking Mandrin. Why am I forced to learn that in school? Ask any Indian or Malay. What good is speaking Mandrin in Singapore, when you can't converse with them in Mandrin? English still remains as the international language, and main language in Singapore. It pisses me of whenever I see those adverstisements on buses, one in particular about this guy who improved his Mandrin by sending letters to his mother. Mandrin is a stupid language for second hand people. Stop speaking it dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leave me alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-5973541674191918628?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5973541674191918628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5973541674191918628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-hate.html' title='I hate'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-4709512461756069957</id><published>2007-05-18T05:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T06:18:27.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life goes on</title><content type='html'>Been staying in camp these few weeks from Monday's to Fridays for a few reasons, such as not waking up early to travel to camp (I only wake up 15 mins before fall in time now), not coming back everyday to face the zoo of a home, not having to put up with consistent bitching from parents and/or my sister, and most importantly to save money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I work on weekends, and the only time I am free to go out is after work at night. Every month I countdown the weeks till my next payday. To make matters worse, I'm still stuck now without my own personal computer. I can't watch my videos and DVD's. Bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life sucks, AND it still goes on.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-4709512461756069957?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4709512461756069957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4709512461756069957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/05/life-goes-on.html' title='Life goes on'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-5213170742340981473</id><published>2007-05-06T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-06T09:41:29.350-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A list of things that piss me off (Part 2)</title><content type='html'>I got out of the shower just now feeling pissed because my stupid elephant sister likes to leave the bathroom with hot steam making it feel like a sauna. I suddenly began to think of things that I hate about people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People who&lt;br /&gt;1. play Maple Story&lt;br /&gt;2. play Warcraft&lt;br /&gt;3. watch soccer&lt;br /&gt;4. watch Japanese anime (except Initial D)&lt;br /&gt;5. watch MTV&lt;br /&gt;6. prefer using chopsticks to fork/spoon&lt;br /&gt;7. are materialistic&lt;br /&gt;8. type loudly on the keyboard&lt;br /&gt;9. think they're pretty/attractive&lt;br /&gt;10. speak Chinese more than English&lt;br /&gt;11. speaks loudly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to be added.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-5213170742340981473?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5213170742340981473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5213170742340981473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/05/list-of-things-that-piss-me-off-part-2.html' title='A list of things that piss me off (Part 2)'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-5841124053646403147</id><published>2007-04-20T05:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-21T14:13:50.967-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck you Singapore</title><content type='html'>I can't elaborate how much I hate this country. Call me unpatriotic but I am. Fucking bitch. If I had a chance, I'll leave to somewhere better like Australia, America or the United Kingdom. For once, I'd pleasure myself to burning the country's flag out of spite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it just wasn't bad enough, fresh enlistees are getting a new revised allowance of $450 a month. This excludes the $50 pay increment this coming July. What the fuck does this mean? It means that those dumb recruits who enlisted after January 2007 are getting more than a corporal who gets $420, and has served for at least 1 year. What the fuck is going on here? Discrimination? You bet. Unfairness? Hell yes. And all for what? A $50 pay increment so we naive bastards will be content? $400 won't shut my fucking mouth because I know when I'm being scammed. An additional $50 doesn't mean anything to me in case you're wondering. Fuck you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every morning we have to fall in at 0800hrs sharp. Any later and I'll end up being lectured by this fucker Nazi 2nd Warrant Officer. All he'll repeat is the same old shitty thing,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Who will serve the country if everyone comes late and doesn't do any work? Its your turn to serve what others have done.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you mean its my duty? I'd like to box him in the ears. It gave me the sickly feeling, like its our duty to serve and protect Singapore. What the fuck does Singapore have to offer me in return? Ensure me a good job? That I don't have to pay my taxes? What about GST? ERP? COE? Why the fuck do I still have to pay for these? Why are people so blinded by the government, as if they're leading a happy life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every year I see so many Singaporeans at the National Day Parade, celebrating, unknown by the oblivious fact and blinded by propaganda. I don't think those people have seen the world. Assholes, all of them. All pussies, afraid to stand up, hiding among the majority, afraid of being jeered at or called unpatriotic. Fuck you Singapore, you proved yourself unworthy of my loyality the minute you discriminated me and fellow comrades with $350 a month just to protect your fucking ass while your 'new warriors' get paid more. Screw you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-5841124053646403147?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5841124053646403147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5841124053646403147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/04/fuck-you-singapore_20.html' title='Fuck you Singapore'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-852323753482021486</id><published>2007-04-13T12:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T12:59:50.331-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Free time?</title><content type='html'>Guess what, my comp is down again. This time its due to that stupid Windows XP activation crap that has expired. Even though I downloaded some hack from the Internet, it didn't work. I hate spending time fixing my comp again and again. Its tiring and meaningless. The moment I get it started, something else fails, or either that I'll have to reformat the hard disk again. Even reformating is a problem now that my CD-Drive can't even read the Windows XP disk. Damn those bastards!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Updates will be more infrequent now until I find time to fix it. I've been busy in camp lately and being forced to stay in on Monday and Thursday nights. Either that or I'll be working after I book out, including the weekends. Tough shit. Anyway, I was informed that I'll be posted overseas after I clear my IPPT, which means passing my 2.4km which I always find it stupid and unproductive. I've never passed my 2.4km run before because I like the feeling of walking from the starting point, and letting all those losers overtake me, only to be overtaken by me at mid point while I laughed in their faces. Who's the winner now? I rule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning's run was tiring.I completed it in 11m15s. Not bad for a first try, because the last time I took the IPPT was 5 months ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm too tired to carry on. Till the next update.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-852323753482021486?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/852323753482021486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/852323753482021486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/04/free-time.html' title='Free time?'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-630382056384582469</id><published>2007-04-06T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-06T22:48:56.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Movie Review - Shooter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RhaOS2Ed6GI/AAAAAAAAAGo/MuCqt0qBbpE/s1600-h/Shooter2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RhaOS2Ed6GI/AAAAAAAAAGo/MuCqt0qBbpE/s400/Shooter2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050380486545631330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing much to comment on the movie. Because almost all my friends couldn't catch what the actors were saying. Everytime there was a conversation involving 3 people, the actors were speaking too fast with heavy accents, making it hard to figure out what the hell they just said, or I was too lazy to rack my brains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing worth watching in the movie was the action scenes. And that pretty hot chick in the picture below. Looking at that guy's face beside her, it says it all. She looks better in the movie though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RhaJd2Ed6AI/AAAAAAAAAF4/KNH6LEye84E/s1600-h/Shooter1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 246px; height: 177px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RhaJd2Ed6AI/AAAAAAAAAF4/KNH6LEye84E/s320/Shooter1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050375177966053378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, its not worth the money. If they replaced that guy with Angelina Jolie, maybe I'd put in a better review.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RhaPmWEd6HI/AAAAAAAAAGw/Na4029p1stM/s1600-h/Shooter3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RhaPmWEd6HI/AAAAAAAAAGw/Na4029p1stM/s400/Shooter3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050381921064708210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rating 3/5&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-630382056384582469?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/630382056384582469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/630382056384582469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/04/movie-review-shooter.html' title='Movie Review - Shooter'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RhaOS2Ed6GI/AAAAAAAAAGo/MuCqt0qBbpE/s72-c/Shooter2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-5352072444558176365</id><published>2007-04-04T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-04T11:23:16.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates</title><content type='html'>Been too busy or lazy to update recently. Went to watch this movie 'Shooter', hopefully the review will be up soon. Be patient.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-5352072444558176365?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5352072444558176365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5352072444558176365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/04/updates.html' title='Updates'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-1401788108205912007</id><published>2007-03-24T04:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-24T04:35:24.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's myself at camp</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RgUMwsKkT0I/AAAAAAAAAFs/6tJSsibLO2I/s1600-h/Mark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RgUMwsKkT0I/AAAAAAAAAFs/6tJSsibLO2I/s320/Mark.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045452988167245634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently the only safe place to take pictures is in the gents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-1401788108205912007?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1401788108205912007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1401788108205912007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/03/heres-myself-at-camp.html' title='Here&apos;s myself at camp'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RgUMwsKkT0I/AAAAAAAAAFs/6tJSsibLO2I/s72-c/Mark.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-2610298117375353040</id><published>2007-03-22T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-22T09:16:40.992-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More bitching and some thoughts....</title><content type='html'>Wouldn't it be nice if someone invented a device that would block off unwanted noise? The device would be some chip that would somehow sense frequency and wavelengths of noisy commuters, school kids, teenagers and old ladies, then filter it out so I wouldn't have to keep up to the constant bullshit all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday, after a long journey back from camp that takes approximately 1.5 hrs, I reach home only to be challenged with: questions, unnecessary small talk, japanese songs from my sister's computer, tv on at high volume, and stupid statements from my parents like, 'You're back.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you mean 'You're back.' ? Of course I'm back, is there a reason to state the obvious? Then I get fired questions like, 'Why are you so late?' or, 'Do you have to book in tomorrow?' To note, I've been coming home roughly the same time almost everyday, give or take 10 or 15 mintues. I have been going to camp from Mondays to Fridays, for nearly 4 months now and the only time I didn't have to book in was the 1 week MC (wisdom teeth) and 1 day MC (diarrhea).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 days ago I informed my parents that I would not be back for 2 nights, because I had 2 24hr duty shifts on Wednesday and Thrusday, which makes it 48hr duty shift back to back. I called earlier that I would be back tonight, instead of Friday because I switched duties with another guy. Then, my dad kept demanding why I had to do duties on Friday instead. I don't get it. He's not the one doing the duty, the &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;WHY THE FUCK&lt;/span&gt; am I always being spammed with questions which will have no adverse effect towards the outcome? Why should he care? Is it too much to ask for some peace and quiet dammit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wished that I stayed alone. Then I'll come back everyday, all tired, only to be welcomed by the serenity where I can slop down onto the sofa and rest for a few mintues, then take a shower, and do work (if any) on the computer with only the table lamp on.Thats all I ask for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-2610298117375353040?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2610298117375353040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2610298117375353040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/03/more-bitching-and-some-thoughts.html' title='More bitching and some thoughts....'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-2661773434249726821</id><published>2007-03-18T00:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-18T03:09:10.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Movie Review - 300</title><content type='html'>2 weeks ago my friends told me about this really awesome movie called 300. Upon further queries, they had already watched the movie but wanted to watch it again. I was surprised, because they were movie critics, and getting good reviews from them were rare. I raised an eyebrow, and thought that if they wanted to watch it again, this movie must be some super asskicking power packed shit that is a must watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rfzb1bZr0bI/AAAAAAAAAEs/G58bOi_l8G0/s1600-h/Spartan1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rfzb1bZr0bI/AAAAAAAAAEs/G58bOi_l8G0/s320/Spartan1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043147393683149234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can I say about this movie. I don't even know how to start, because I don't know if my review is up to the standard, otherwise I might ruin a perfectly great movie. Anyway, the movie gurantees your attention from start to end. There are no boring scenes, or scenes where the actors stand around talking rubbish that you don't understand. Never. Just 115 mintues of non stop action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This movie is about a King and this kingdom, Spartan, who only trained &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RfzfbrZr0eI/AAAAAAAAAFE/uB1GteaD5E0/s1600-h/Spartan6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RfzfbrZr0eI/AAAAAAAAAFE/uB1GteaD5E0/s320/Spartan6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043151349348028898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;precision warriors from birth. Almost everyone in the kingdom of Spartan is professionally trained warrior. It was the time when Spartan was threatened to war by the Persians. Which resulted in the Persian messenger being kicked into a fucking deep hole by the King. The King then gathered 300 Spartans to fight the war against the Persians. With their superb display of battle skills, the first armed combat resulted in the Persians being cornered and pushed off a cliff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rfzgr7Zr0gI/AAAAAAAAAFU/yrtGQIRGoZw/s1600-h/Spartan3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rfzgr7Zr0gI/AAAAAAAAAFU/yrtGQIRGoZw/s320/Spartan3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043152728032530946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Then the Persian Emperor kept sending wave after waves of different warriors (few thousands), Im&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RfzfM7Zr0dI/AAAAAAAAAE8/fyvPDsNdz8M/s1600-h/Spartan5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RfzfM7Zr0dI/AAAAAAAAAE8/fyvPDsNdz8M/s320/Spartan5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043151095944958418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;mortals, Magicians, Barbarians, Mammoths and every other shit, only to be owned by the Spartans (300). It gave me the impression that I'm watching the era where the myths that elves, centaurs were involved with the war. I particularly liked the magicians, though they were blasted by their own potions instead. By the way, when I first saw the Persian Emperor, I thought it was a joke. I thought he was a the character Dhalsim in Street Fighter. This picture proved me right about him being ambiguously gay. The Spartans every move was swift, accurate and precise. They had balls of steel, as shown in the picture. Look at the black specks in the sky. Bees? Birds? No dammit. They are arrows from the Persian archers&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rfzg67Zr0hI/AAAAAAAAAFc/4-pQ94a9Ejc/s1600-h/Spartan4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rfzg67Zr0hI/AAAAAAAAAFc/4-pQ94a9Ejc/s320/Spartan4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043152985730568722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; who are too much of a sissy for close combat. More head slicing, body piercing and amputated limbs after that, while back in the Spartan kingdom, the council was debating whether they should send more reinforcements to aid the King, but because the King defied orders from the corrupted council not to go to war in the first place, no help came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show ended when the Spartans were ambushed from the back, by some hunched back Spartan traitor that was rejected training when young due to his deformity. The King then came up with a plan, to spear the Persian Emperor by deceiving a surrender, but missing the fucker and scrapping his side cheek. Then the Persians did that cowardly arrow attack again, and were totally outnumbered because they were already surrounded. The movie ended with the King in honourable death, and one of the warriors that was told to go back to the Kingdom before the final battle took place gathered 10,000 Spartans in total to avenge the King.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RfzlgrZr0iI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jlQxflbIAmY/s1600-h/Spartan2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RfzlgrZr0iI/AAAAAAAAAFk/jlQxflbIAmY/s320/Spartan2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043158032317141538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that I didn't like about the movie was that almost every scene had special effects which totally made some parts seem ridiculously fake. But of course, to the untrained eye, most of the audience would'nt notice the bullshit they're watching anyway. Overall, this movie is one hell of a mega ass kicker, and if I had the chance, I'd like to watch it again. No kidding. Watch this movie now if you haven't already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rating 4.5/5&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-2661773434249726821?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2661773434249726821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2661773434249726821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/03/movie-review-300.html' title='Movie Review - 300'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rfzb1bZr0bI/AAAAAAAAAEs/G58bOi_l8G0/s72-c/Spartan1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-6632204305512004895</id><published>2007-03-13T05:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T05:52:08.629-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Surviving the war</title><content type='html'>Have you ever been asked this question, " If Singapore is under attack, do you think we'll win the war? " or participated in conversations that debate the efficiency of the SAF?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I made a discovery, and realised that the war doesn't involve armed combat between Singapore and its neighbouring countries. In fact, the war itself is about surviving 2 years in National Service. To survive the war, one must be independent, smart, daring and unafraid. Note that being daring and unafraid are both different meanings, and not to be confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I compiled a list of survival tips which I have the misfortune of having to learn things by myself, without any external help whatsoever for you newbies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. never put in effort to do an assigned task&lt;br /&gt;2. if you have to, do a half assed job&lt;br /&gt;3. hard work will never be appreciated&lt;br /&gt;4. always have a backup excuse if you are caught&lt;br /&gt;5. avoid officers and warrant officers as much as possible&lt;br /&gt;6. if you're being paid just $350 per month, nothing is worth doing at all&lt;br /&gt;7. if they paid more, I'd actually do some work&lt;br /&gt;8. never take MC for trivial events, always save them for something more important&lt;br /&gt;9. always get ready to point arrows at others&lt;br /&gt;10. clear your offs as soon as possible, or you must just lose them all&lt;br /&gt;11. sleeping makes time fly faster&lt;br /&gt;12. act illiterate if an officer asks if you're good at something (computers, paperwork)&lt;br /&gt;13. always keep a low profile&lt;br /&gt;14. never let an officer remember your name&lt;br /&gt;15. never use your own expenses to pay for something that you can claim later&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One final tip,&lt;br /&gt;Always remember this: Never do work that is more than what you actually earn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-6632204305512004895?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6632204305512004895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/6632204305512004895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/03/surviving-war.html' title='Surviving the war'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-820130265190671401</id><published>2007-03-03T21:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-04T03:09:17.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Movie Review - Letters from Iwo Jima</title><content type='html'>Its been a long time since I've stepped into the cinema to catch a decent movie. Last week, my friends and I decided to catch a late night movie, 'Letters from Iwo Jima'. That'll make it the first movie I've watched this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ripoff? The movie was filmed in 2005, and supposedly to be released in 2006. I paid $9.50 to watch a Japanese movie that's 2 years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Reqg-XIDyDI/AAAAAAAAADs/D_IZYjxUvxg/s1600-h/Iwo4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 183px; height: 123px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Reqg-XIDyDI/AAAAAAAAADs/D_IZYjxUvxg/s320/Iwo4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038016126387472434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/ReqiXHIDyGI/AAAAAAAAAEE/DIUlP7t_9uE/s1600-h/Iwo3.jpg"&gt; &lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 124px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/ReqiXHIDyGI/AAAAAAAAAEE/DIUlP7t_9uE/s320/Iwo3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038017651100862562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Reqhb3IDyFI/AAAAAAAAAD8/px71R-RmRE0/s1600-h/Iwo1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 187px; height: 123px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Reqhb3IDyFI/AAAAAAAAAD8/px71R-RmRE0/s320/Iwo1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038016633193613394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Reqhb3IDyFI/AAAAAAAAAD8/px71R-RmRE0/s1600-h/Iwo1.jpg"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie starts off with a bunch of idiots digging trenches, to prepare for an attack from the US army on this useless island of a wasteland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then some big fuck General arrives, and changes the battle plans entirely, which at that point I couldn't tell if he was amateur or not. Then more of his sissy officer friends came, one in particular arrived with his pathetic horse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RepW43IDyCI/AAAAAAAAADg/dRXaOpF-QCk/s1600-h/Iwo2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 260px; height: 174px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RepW43IDyCI/AAAAAAAAADg/dRXaOpF-QCk/s320/Iwo2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5037934668037736482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;He went on and on telling the General how nice it would be like to ride to the battlefield like old time. Is there something wrong with this? Who the hell would horseback into a battlefield?? Apparently he was stuck in a time zone where Chinese warriors mounted their horses and shoot arrows and spears. Fortunately, the next scene showed the US planes executing a surprise airstrike, where his horse was bombed to death and he began to cry like a pussy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, when the US came, the Japanese soldiers retreated into their caves because they were overpowered and outnumbered. Then, the officers ordered them to kill themselves because they were losing, and being the pussies Japanese are, they started detonating grenades and blowing themselves up. The US Marines then pushed forward, and took over the island. Meanwhile, the General fought on and eventually was one of the last to die, by shooting himself in order not to be captured by the Marines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats the basic sum up storyline of the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, all you Japanese loving Nazis reading this, will probably sympathize and side with the Japanese. Where was your sympathy when the Japanese invaded Singapore back in 1942? All you assholes do is bitch all day about how great the Japanese are, and how you want to act, dress and speak like them, being blinded by the history of Japan.  Dumbass. You people are breeding the next generation of idiots, not realising that you all ought to be killed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm stuck in a country that practices stupid cultures which are nonsensical, and harbours no purpose to the things they celebrate. There are even assholes who don't even know what they are celebrating, just because its a holiday. How come I don't see any Chinese celebrating Deepavali? Then why are they celebrating Christmas if they're not Christians or Catholics? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;TELL ME&lt;/span&gt;.  If only everyone would wake up and think how stupid they've been, Singapore won't be a shithole to live in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anway back to the review. I'm on the Americans side on this one. Americans rule and kicks ass. I wished I was born in America. I would have given a 2 star rating for this movie, but because the Americans stomped the Japanese asses, I'd say 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rating : 3/5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-820130265190671401?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/820130265190671401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/820130265190671401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/03/movie-review-letters-from-iwo-jima.html' title='Movie Review - Letters from Iwo Jima'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Reqg-XIDyDI/AAAAAAAAADs/D_IZYjxUvxg/s72-c/Iwo4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-2434990289693789121</id><published>2007-02-28T03:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T03:58:05.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate fat people</title><content type='html'>I hate fat people. They're stupid, clumsy, and smell of shit. When they're not busy taking up 2 seats on the bus or MRT, they're stinking the place up with foul body odors, hence the result of yellow armpit stains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's up with fat people? And when I mean fat, I mean above 100kg or so, not you anorexic bitches who bitch and wail when they realised they gained a couple of kilograms. Stop asking people the same questions repeatedly, 'Do I look fat?' or 'Am I fat?' bullshit. You're fat. Asking about it does not hide your lardass, so instead of bitching about it, go do some exercise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to fat asses. What the hell is wrong with them? They put the weight on themselves, and instead of losing them, they pack at least 6 meals a day, and parade their weight around. Oh, so that meal is not enough? Want some more? How about more sweet drinks and potato chips to go with it, fatass? Pack those pounds!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they're not eating, they breathe with their mouths, and its easy to note if they're sleeping by the loud engine noises they make (an early sign of heart failure). After walking for about 20 meters, or up a flight of stairs, they sweat (notice the word sweat, instead of perspire, which is for normal people) so much that it looked like it was raining 5 minutes ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fat people are the worst. Blocking narrow aisles, taking up spaces, eating up all the food and wasting that extra bit of clothing material. The world could do without them. Seriously.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-2434990289693789121?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2434990289693789121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2434990289693789121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-hate-fat-people.html' title='I hate fat people'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-1559904379314762564</id><published>2007-02-20T23:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-20T23:46:44.966-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Professional? My ass</title><content type='html'>I hate doctors. They act high and mighty and think they're up there, just because they earn probably 3 times more than an average working adult. Big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just came back from Changi General Hospital just now. I was suffering from diarrhea since Monday, and when I told the doctor about it during consultation, he gave me that wryly look, started asking awkward questions like which camp I'm from, which is totally unrelated to my condition. Yeah, I know you NSF assholes like use diarrhea as an excuse to feign MC for the day, but when do doctors draw the line? They suspect every NSF patient suffering from diarrhea are malingering. That doctor which I consulted didn't even bother to do a routine check at all. All he did was ask me irrelevant questions, all the while keeping that smirk stuck on his face. Asshole.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-1559904379314762564?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1559904379314762564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1559904379314762564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/02/professional-my-ass.html' title='Professional? My ass'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-8052370150594475665</id><published>2007-02-16T10:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-17T00:16:30.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chinese New Year</title><content type='html'>This year I'm gonna be  fully participating in celebrating Chinese New Year. Visiting people, not for the sake of wishing them a prosperous  year ahead, but because of the money. Why? Each time for the past 5 years I'll only get about $100 worth of 'takings' which will only amount to a small sum of money that isn't worth the time and effort to 'collect'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's $100 to me? Just some extra free surplus before. However, this time every single dollar counts when you get a measly $350 a month. Thats almost one third of my allowance, and I'm not going to treat it lightly because $100 mean alot to me now. Fuck the oranges and the pretense visiting shit. I'm only there for the money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That brings me to another point:  If you're too much of a miser to give at least $4 per 'taking', then don't bother giving at all. Its just an insult to your own ego. I have a relative, who lives in a 3 storey semi detached house, owns a Mercedes, employs two maids, and have posh expensive ornaments and furniture, home surround systems and provides their kids with the latest gaming technology (PS2 back then). Guess how much they gave me last year? A  damn 4 bucks.&lt;br /&gt;I used to remember how they boasted on how well their business is getting, and $4 is all they can afford to give during a festive season? Dipshits. Another time, this old cranky bitch (I think it is my mother's aunt) which I hate, because she has a big fucking mouth that never shuts the hell up. I remember making a crude remark to one of my cousins about it and I think she overheard, but did I care? Not one bit. Anyway, the following year while she was giving out red packets to my cousins and siblings, she promptly skipped me, and when I found out that it was only $2 she gave to the others, I took out one of the red packets that I've received from my pocket, and threw it away in front of her face. Why? As much as I'd have like to get some free cash to make her poorer, $2 is not even enough to over the cost it took for me to go there in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, to ensure maximum efficiency, I'll give you guys a tip or two on how to get more surplus per day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Do not spend time traveling to a relative's house whom you have already met and received red packets from at another relative's house. (Which means, if all of them have gathered at X's house, why bother going to the rest when you have already gotten the money?)&lt;br /&gt;2. After collecting red packets from so and so, leave promptly to another destination.&lt;br /&gt;3. Meet up with friend's and go to each other's house. Imagine if you have 20 friends, 20x4= $80 which you can slowly collect over the 15 days.&lt;br /&gt;4. Pretend that you have never received any red packets from X, and promptly offer X 2 more oranges for a deja vu!&lt;br /&gt;5. Gambling only increases your chance of losing what you have collected so far. Gambling is for suckers.&lt;br /&gt;6. Tell your cousins/siblings that they have received more than you from the same person in a loud tone. That'll put that fella in an extremely embarrassing situation and you'll most likely get another extra.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats all I can think of at the moment. I'll post again if I can think of more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-8052370150594475665?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8052370150594475665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8052370150594475665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/02/chinese-new-year.html' title='Chinese New Year'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-4188224257163837563</id><published>2007-02-11T02:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-11T02:37:59.069-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Comments</title><content type='html'>I've received feedback on the posting of comments for my posts. A new chat box is available now to make comments easier.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-4188224257163837563?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4188224257163837563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/4188224257163837563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/02/comments.html' title='Comments'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-1665986692826712094</id><published>2007-02-11T01:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-11T02:47:04.992-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sean Paul is cool</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rc7ogBzOASI/AAAAAAAAADU/cIZ66PqFWWY/s1600-h/Sean-Paul---Colors-Poster-C10123746.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 230px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rc7ogBzOASI/AAAAAAAAADU/cIZ66PqFWWY/s320/Sean-Paul---Colors-Poster-C10123746.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030213470756143394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to think Sean Paul was an idiot. I stand corrected. His recent song 'Give it up to me' with Keyshia Cole totally rules. I haven't been listening to the radio for a few months now and I don't intend to. Whats up with Pop music and those sissy bands that they call Rock? Greenday, Fort Minor, and a few more bullshit bands (that I can't think of at the moment) &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;ARE NOT ROCK DAMMIT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Kids nowadays are listening to explicit bullshit on the radio. My sister, for example, is an absolute crack. Once I was blasting Sean Paul's songs on her computer when she came home, and it gave her a migraine. I don't think she knows good music when she hears one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thinking about her pisses me off. Listening to J-Pop like nobody's business. Who'd she think she is? Like she understands the goddamn lyrics. (I deleted a few songs from her computer and she didn't even notice because she couldn't read the song titles) That applies to all you assholes who listen to Japanese music or consider yourself 'Jap'. Cut the crap. You're a fucking Chinese. Stop acting or dressing up like one and pretend that you can speak Japanese. I'm sick of this shit, every time I see teens on the MRT trains wearing high stockings with that shitty hat that looks like a giant muffin. I hope you die.&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/2327320832747026307-1665986692826712094?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1665986692826712094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1665986692826712094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/02/sean-paul-is-cool.html' title='Sean Paul is cool'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rc7ogBzOASI/AAAAAAAAADU/cIZ66PqFWWY/s72-c/Sean-Paul---Colors-Poster-C10123746.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-7113671190914320151</id><published>2007-02-05T10:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-05T12:44:03.234-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Alphabet of Manliness</title><content type='html'>It was like this:&lt;br /&gt;On the 19th of January, I rushed down to meet my buddy See-Toh after my course ended.  A few days before, See-Toh SMSed me to say that its here - after nearly 2 months of waiting.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to him, I'm one proud owner of a book that's considered 'banned' in Singapore, and near impossible to be found locally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warning: If you belong to the group of dipshits who,&lt;br /&gt;- watch Japanese anime&lt;br /&gt;- plays DOTA&lt;br /&gt;- loves spaghetti&lt;br /&gt;- listen to Chinese rock/pop/rap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This isn't for you. You wouldn't want to be reading a book about how pathetic you are yourself, right?&lt;br /&gt;Without much further ado,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Behold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;The Alphabet of Manliness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rcd9xWL35GI/AAAAAAAAACA/kmLf5KThVf8/s1600-h/mad4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rcd9xWL35GI/AAAAAAAAACA/kmLf5KThVf8/s320/mad4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028125795704890466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rcd8SGL35FI/AAAAAAAAAB4/WX4QrrUKE_U/s1600-h/mad1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 143px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rcd8SGL35FI/AAAAAAAAAB4/WX4QrrUKE_U/s320/mad1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028124159322350674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rcd-z2L35JI/AAAAAAAAACY/TFr6EHNr9OU/s1600-h/mad3.jpg"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rcd_TmL35KI/AAAAAAAAACg/14mLRh5UCtM/s1600-h/mad2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 143px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rcd_TmL35KI/AAAAAAAAACg/14mLRh5UCtM/s320/mad2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028127483627037858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rcd-z2L35JI/AAAAAAAAACY/TFr6EHNr9OU/s1600-h/mad3.jpg"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rcd-z2L35JI/AAAAAAAAACY/TFr6EHNr9OU/s1600-h/mad3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 192px; height: 144px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rcd-z2L35JI/AAAAAAAAACY/TFr6EHNr9OU/s320/mad3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028126938166191250" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rcd-z2L35JI/AAAAAAAAACY/TFr6EHNr9OU/s1600-h/mad3.jpg"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Written by Maddox himself. If you have no idea who Maddox is, he is the owner of the Best Page in the Universe, a god that earns millions of people's utmost respect from around the world. Check out his website if you haven't already.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://maddox.xmission.com/"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RceBQ2L35LI/AAAAAAAAACo/Yy4cOF82vHs/s320/Mad5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028129635405653170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-7113671190914320151?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/7113671190914320151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/7113671190914320151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/02/alphabet-of-manliness.html' title='The Alphabet of Manliness'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rcd9xWL35GI/AAAAAAAAACA/kmLf5KThVf8/s72-c/mad4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-8778980139113948597</id><published>2007-02-04T06:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T07:57:46.614-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Resurrected</title><content type='html'>I finally fixed up my computer today. My Pentium III (yeah I know) crashed about 5 months back and I've been surviving on the other 2 Pentium 2 computers in the house all this while. I mean, how many of you can survive that long without a comp?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fried 2 Pentium III motherboards and a couple of SD 512 RAMS last year. Hopefully this current motherboard will last till I save some money to get a new comp. Ever thought why its called a motherboard and not a fatherboard? Beats me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some pictures of my dead P3:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RcYB4GL35EI/AAAAAAAAABo/Uw6PziGe2sA/s1600-h/P32.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RcYB4GL35EI/AAAAAAAAABo/Uw6PziGe2sA/s320/P32.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027708097250452546" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RcX-DmL35DI/AAAAAAAAABg/Hwc7ZGfvlKE/s1600-h/P31.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RcX-DmL35DI/AAAAAAAAABg/Hwc7ZGfvlKE/s320/P31.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5027703896772437042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll miss this motherboard..... served me well, even though it was a short period of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, good news is that, I'll be able to upload pictures from my hp from now on to pack some awesomeness to the updates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More updates coming soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-8778980139113948597?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8778980139113948597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8778980139113948597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/02/resurrected.html' title='Resurrected'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RcYB4GL35EI/AAAAAAAAABo/Uw6PziGe2sA/s72-c/P32.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-1330078163554078421</id><published>2007-01-25T05:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-25T05:52:01.453-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheap labour</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;SAF = S&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;erve&lt;/span&gt; A&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; F&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;uck off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Give me one good reason why I should serve National Service. What good does it do? Why bother to pay someone a measly amount of $350 per month and expect him to protect the country's ass? Do you really think NS men are that stupid? Loyalty to country? Hell I have none. I'm sick and tired of putting up with this bullshit, wasting my 2 years when I could've do something more productive like furthering my studies. Who gives a shit about loyalty anymore? Making us serve against our will, doing OT for nothing, making us stay back late only to miss the last bus home, and not even giving us extra off for that matter. And all for what? To protect you nancy boys in the event of a war? Let me tell you this: it doesn't take much for someone to turn their backs against the country for the amount they're paying, and all the shit NS men have to go through for 2 years. Who in their right minds would remain patriotic if they're being treated like this? Way to fuel the fire, assholes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wished a war would start. Then I'll see how many of them are going to react. Singaporeans overly expect the Army to defend the country and protect their asses in the event of a war. But what have they contributed themselves? Paying your taxes every month isn't considered contributing to the unnecessary amount spent each year. Sitting back, pushing the job to us, to the event of &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;FORCING&lt;/span&gt; people to do the job. What good is having a lesson when the computers we're using won't start? What good is squeezing 80 ppl into a small room with 20 computers and expecting us to share and learn? How can a medical centre be out of medicine, and expect us to buy them ourselves? Why build a car park when no one is allowed to park there? Then where else do we park? Why build facilities when we're not allowed to use them? The question to these answers still remain unknown and I want an explanation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bottom line is - if they're going give us miserable allowances, don't expect us NS men to do our jobs well. Its like forcing someone to work for a year and expecting him to achieve great results, for a salary of two months.  Who the hell would do it??????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-1330078163554078421?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1330078163554078421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1330078163554078421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/01/cheap-labour.html' title='Cheap labour'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-1414580565380033725</id><published>2007-01-18T04:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-18T04:28:14.654-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Zzzz</title><content type='html'>Its just one of days where I don't feel like doing anything, but yet I want to go out instead of sleeping at home. Aimlessness. Not being able to know what I'm going to be doing next week after my course ends. Everyone's got their posting, except me. Guess I'll just have to go along without knowing what will happen next. Zzz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-1414580565380033725?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1414580565380033725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1414580565380033725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/01/zzzz.html' title='Zzzz'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-8772435911038452520</id><published>2007-01-12T10:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T22:38:51.970-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Japanese animes sucks</title><content type='html'>Japanese animes are stupid. For those of you who have never seen or heard of them, they are irritating 'cartoons' with high pitched squeaking voices that appeal to primary school kids, teenagers and even adults. Why do I say that are animes stupid? Read on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister watches animes because she's an idiot. I happened to chance upon some pictures that were saved in her computer and they were all Japanese animes. Some pictures I found:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rafk4mL349I/AAAAAAAAAAU/ekdtdobfUbU/s1600-h/anime1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019231970701861842" style="WIDTH: 186px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 257px" height="216" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rafk4mL349I/AAAAAAAAAAU/ekdtdobfUbU/s320/anime1.jpg" width="136" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RafnOWL34_I/AAAAAAAAAAk/fDlDLkpxu-A/s1600-h/anime4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019234543387272178" style="WIDTH: 156px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 257px" height="243" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RafnOWL34_I/AAAAAAAAAAk/fDlDLkpxu-A/s320/anime4.jpg" width="143" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RaflfWL34-I/AAAAAAAAAAc/PlvHE_CnqbE/s1600-h/anime3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019232636421792738" style="WIDTH: 194px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 148px" height="166" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RaflfWL34-I/AAAAAAAAAAc/PlvHE_CnqbE/s320/anime3.jpg" width="218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019239297916068866" style="WIDTH: 317px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 184px" height="165" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/RafrjGL35AI/AAAAAAAAAAs/zD-v5e7cAng/s320/anime2.jpg" width="308" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the hell do those pictures mean? Looks like a whole lot of bullshit to me. Now ask yourself what that picture meant to you. Nobody wants to watch drivel like some dumbass sitting (shitting?) on a blue toad with an idiotic grin. It isn't funny anymore when you have half assed skeleton faced characters with hair covering their eyes. Its just pathetic. Watching Japanese animes are equivalent to watching cartoons like Power Rangers and Barney &amp;amp; Friends. If I were forced to watch shit like these, I'd rather take my chances watching something boring like soccer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rafw5WL35CI/AAAAAAAAAA8/9t8nNLmcOUQ/s1600-h/anime5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019245177726297122" style="CURSOR: hand" height="290" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rafw5WL35CI/AAAAAAAAAA8/9t8nNLmcOUQ/s320/anime5.jpg" width="224" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I'm not ashamed to admit that the only anime I ever watched is Initial D. Initial D has none of that bullshit, a good storyline with kickass characters. They even produced a movie on the series, because nobody would pay to watch other stupid bullshit animes in a cinema.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-8772435911038452520?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8772435911038452520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/8772435911038452520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/01/japanese-anime-sucks.html' title='Japanese animes sucks'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bVbOk6mx3_I/Rafk4mL349I/AAAAAAAAAAU/ekdtdobfUbU/s72-c/anime1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2327320832747026307.post-7860562894882981089</id><published>2007-01-11T02:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-11T03:53:48.602-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures finally</title><content type='html'>Pictures from last Sunday's trail. Too bad I don't have a full shot of my bike, because it was stuck as the picture below shows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/themask/DSC03705.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/themask/DSC03705.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It took some time for us to get the bike out. I hate getting stuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/themask/DSC03711.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/themask/DSC03711.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thats how deep the bike sank in, it was knee high at the deepest part. Take a look at that jetski!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/themask/DSC03727.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v200/themask/DSC03727.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A picture of Bernice's bike. The worse nightmare. Soft mud!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats all for now. Hope to take more pictures of the next trail.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-7860562894882981089?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/7860562894882981089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/7860562894882981089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/01/pictures-finally.html' title='Pictures finally'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-2502884380832841406</id><published>2007-01-08T22:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T19:03:26.363-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A list of things that piss me off</title><content type='html'>I haven't been bitching for some time now, but this really takes the cake. I was in the MRT train back home just now when there was this bitch sitting directly opposite me talking obnoxiously loud on her mobile phone. What really pissed me off was that I was trying to catch some sleep while she prattled on constantly in mandrin with her shrieking voice like a machine gun. I wouldn't mind if she had some looks at the very least, but she look like a panda with dark eyebags, protruding teeth, and pale yellowish complexion. She looked like a witch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't people have dignity anymore? Whats going on? Do they think its mandatory to bitch on their mobile phones in a loud and obnoxious tone? &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;WHAT THE FUCK&lt;/span&gt; are they thinking? So this bitch kept on firing her mouth cannon like she was live on air, pissing everyone off in the carriage, and I could distinctively tell that they wished she would just shut the hell up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wished she got banged down by a bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More and more things people do piss me off all the time. So I've decided to compile a list of things that piss me off just in case anyone reading this are guilty of being one of these idiots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. People who stand on the right side of the escalator&lt;br /&gt;2. People who do not move into the center of the train or back of the bus so others can't board&lt;br /&gt;3. People who uses electronic machines (eg ATM's, S.A.M, AXS, Cashcard/ezLink topups) for more than 3 minutes&lt;br /&gt;4. Women who are too lazy to take out their wallets from their handbags while scanning their ezLink cards, which never reads 80% of the time&lt;br /&gt;5. People who press the 'UP' and 'DOWN' elevator buttons at the lift lobby when they are going down (especially old crunes)&lt;br /&gt;6. People who take the lift to the 2nd floor (excluding pregnant ladies, handicaps or old people)&lt;br /&gt;7. People who take the elevator up/down MRT platforms just because they're too lazy to walk the extra round&lt;br /&gt;8. Talking in loud, obnoxious tones on the bus or MRT trains&lt;br /&gt;9. Blasting music from their mobile phones without using earphones in public&lt;br /&gt;10. People blasting music on their earphones which can be heard 3 metres away&lt;br /&gt;11. Smelly or dirty old men with tattered clothes boarding the bus/train, followed by a sickly stench of garbage or salted fish&lt;br /&gt;12. People with purple hair&lt;br /&gt;13. People who walk slowly in the middle of a walkway, causing a 'jam' behind&lt;br /&gt;14. Women wearing thick makeup and look into their mini mirrors every 15 mins&lt;br /&gt;15. Schoolkids playing on the MRT train&lt;br /&gt;16. Kids eating (especially the McDonald's 50cents icecream) and drinking on the bus/train&lt;br /&gt;17. People farting in the train, leaving that aroma of shit behind&lt;br /&gt;18. Playing games on their mobile phones with music turned on&lt;br /&gt;19. Parking attentants&lt;br /&gt;20. Playing musical instruments (especially guitars) on the train&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats all I can think of straight from my head. If I have any more, I'll add it onto the list. Meanwhile, if you're guilty of one of the above acts, I hope you choke.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-2502884380832841406?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2502884380832841406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/2502884380832841406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/01/list-of-things-that-piss-me-off.html' title='A list of things that piss me off'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-3415882650855595914</id><published>2007-01-05T22:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-05T23:25:10.478-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New responsibilities</title><content type='html'>Got my new ride yesterday. Its a Yamaha WR200! Finally I'd be able to join my friends to the trail on Sundays. Having no previous road experience, it feels vulnerable riding on the road than in the safety of a car. Last night my engine stalled in the middle of the road! Luckily it was at the red light and I managed to restart the engine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many new responsibilities, and I just blew my account flat after buying the bike. Been already thinking of the next COE, road tax and insurance payments, not forgetting petrol, 2T and engine oil. I'd paste a picture of my bike but my computer's down and this computer I'm using can't establish a connection to my mobile phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had my wisdom tooth extracted a few days ago. Although it doesn't hurt that much (which is a good thing) I still can't eat solid hard food yet. The good thing is I have a week of MC till Tuesday, and Wednesday I'll be going back to Tekong to remove the stitches. Hopefully I won't have to recourse back at Sembawang Camp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-3415882650855595914?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3415882650855595914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3415882650855595914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/01/new-responsibilities.html' title='New responsibilities'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-1116188592109542391</id><published>2007-01-02T05:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T06:55:48.014-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A day of boredom</title><content type='html'>Stayed at home the whole day today. What a waste of holidays. Where the hell is everyone? Days like these were unheard of since then, but now its becoming more and more frequent, everyone has their own stuff to do. I wouldn't bitch if I had more free time but I don't. How I hate National Service, stealing my time, forcing me to serve and all for what? A measly allowance of $350 a month?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been a long time since I caught a movie. I can't even remember the name of the last movie I saw. So many things to do, but so little time. I just wished there was more to it than looking forward to the weekends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-1116188592109542391?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1116188592109542391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/1116188592109542391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/01/day-of-boredom.html' title='A day of boredom'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-3471869465491400851</id><published>2007-01-01T01:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-01T11:31:17.011-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Year 2007</title><content type='html'>Last night went relatively well, met up with a friend at Raffles Place where we headed down to Boat Quay for dinner and coffee at CoffeeBean by the Singapore River, where we talked about anything that came into our minds, mainly the issue was about work and our lives, and stuff about the future that I always think about all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we parted as both of us had our own programmes later, and I ended up taking a bus to East Coast to attend a barbeque gathering, my mind filled with thoughts and uncertainties. That sense of loneliness on New Years Eve, just hoping how all the problems would magically diminish at the strike of New Year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do we all expect in a new year? Most people see it as a way to a new start, a way to repent, to revive and set new limits. For me, its just another day and I have to keep reminding myself that its '07' and not '06' everytime I have to write the date. All this while I'm waiting to see how far technology has advanced to, and I yearn one day to see anti-gravity vehicles, space capsules, robots, hyperspace etc as a part of our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But unfortunately time is the enemy, a process that no one can escape. Everyone turns a year older each year, and may or may not be a good thing. What will 2007 bring? Would it be the same as 2006? What will change? 2006 wasn't that bad, and 2005 was shitty. I hope it goes uphill from here onwards. Glad I don't have to report to camp for two more days. And yes, I'm already looking forward to the next holiday...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-3471869465491400851?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3471869465491400851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3471869465491400851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2007/01/year-2007.html' title='The Year 2007'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-5411208958334715484</id><published>2006-12-30T23:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-31T00:13:48.137-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's Eve</title><content type='html'>Every year gets worse. Gone are the days when the group of guys will meet and hang out together. Everyone has their own programmes and commitments. Whats new I wonder? Things are not the same as before, time has caught up and its time to accept the changes, changes that were so different when we used to be teenagers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to 'seek advice' from one of the guys two nights ago who's really an expert in relationship problems... After hearing his advice it seemed all clear to me, the problems that were unsolved, questions that needed to be answered - I realised that the problem didn't lie with me, and that thinking about something I had no control of was just fruitless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll just have to live with it. May it turn out to be a lonely night again this year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-5411208958334715484?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5411208958334715484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/5411208958334715484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2006/12/new-years-eve.html' title='New Year&apos;s Eve'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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-2327320832747026307.post-3387169030987202441</id><published>2006-12-29T13:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-29T14:10:12.539-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fresh new start?</title><content type='html'>Finally had the time to post after months of being dormant. Decided on a fresh new start with this blog, new layout, new style. Hopefully things would seem better in this perspective.  Much has happened over the past few months that would take more than just a few paragraphs of words to describe what I've been up to since. To summarise,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. DBS Bank (Jul 2006 - Oct 2006)&lt;br /&gt;2. National Service - Pulau Tekong (Oct 2006 -  Dec 2006)&lt;br /&gt;3. National Service - Sembawang Camp (Dec 2006)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life in NS is boring. Wished I had more time to do things that I want instead of wasting my time away. Time spent travelling from home to camp. Time spent doing nothing productive there, and  time spent staying in. Fortunately it just a temporary unit and I will be posted to a new node next week which is going to be in the East.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just been called by my RSM yesterday, and he told me that I've been selected for overseas posting, either to Thailland, Brunei or Taiwan. I haven't made up my mind yet if I wanted to go but I filled in the form anyway. Its not confirmed yet,  but deep inside a part of me want to leave this place and everything behind... due to some unsolved problems - problems that I can't find solutions to them. The other part of me wants to stay, because I can't bear to leave my loved one behind. Caught in a dilemna, I can't think of an answer. What will happen after 9 months when I return? Do I really want to 'run away'? Do I really want to stay? Confusion gets the better of me....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2327320832747026307-3387169030987202441?l=themarksupremacy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3387169030987202441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2327320832747026307/posts/default/3387169030987202441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://themarksupremacy.blogspot.com/2006/12/fresh-new-start.html' title='Fresh new start?'/><author><name>Mark Leong</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06888514117302574670</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>
