pride & prejudice fever-uh


official movie site.

Elizabeth Bennet: He’s been a fool, then so have I.
Charlotte Lucas: We are all fools in love

Mr. Darcy: You must know – surely you must know that it was all for you… I would have to tell you, you have bewitched me body and soul and I love and love and love you. And never wish to be parted from you from this day forward.

oh kiera, you’re the sek.

singapore suckers

eh lanciau ah singapore soccer. sponsor here lah, promote here lah, but still same ol’ story. cannot score, no big match mentality, play with no hard, ony balls they know are their own.

they get paid so much and yet all squeak like little rats when the pressure is on them. how leh they justify their salary? if this type of performance happens at a company i tell you all sure kena sack. the ya ya papayas won’t even be recommended for future employment.

you know what’s the main problem with the team? i tell you what – too many mats. mats who think they are playas but ain’t noe the game when the bullet pinches in. they must be thing:- ‘apa mau main. gua tak main bagus pun tak per. balik nanti gua ada club mau amik gua bayar gaji 5k main bola tak payah buat apa apa.’ it’s not that easy speaking, hyphotheticly. but i tell you ah, that i think is the main problem one. these players all think the same. got money, for what play so hard. and that’s why i still until now cannot understand why these clubs in sial-league keeps paying them a lot. you ony good in your homeland for what? might as well don’t pay right? i tell u ah after that nkf story, someone must look into where the money goes to in paying these clubs.

they complain the field very bumpy right? professional players will even struggle to play on them they say. then i suggest a solution – why not u all play barefooted, ah? field not good lah, this lah that lah, then when you cannot score even after 25 chances what you gonna blame on? luck? lanciau ah luck. someone say, if u always blame on luck, then like that better don’t waste the money go travel here and there, play match there and thinking you will do good.

a reporter today wrote, sports are based on merit basis here before they are sent for international competition and the amount of grants they received. looking at the state of soccer players here, i don’t know how justifiable are they being meritted.

my only suggestion, u gonna get that type of pay and results are demanded, i tell you lock up them in a boot camp cannot go out for one year make them suffer like hell. if possible to the extreme, castrate them. then they know what is it like to represent the country while eating up the country’s money.

nahbeis.

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it dawned upon me, in the cubicle of all places, that i am really in a mess.

i don’t know what i want and don’t know what i’ve to do.

i am approaching 30 and my life is still pretty stagnant.

i am pretty much in lack of a lot of things.

but i talk too much.

what should i do? i thought that the re-education thing that i am going through right now is a step, but the fear creeps into me whether or not to justify if it is too late.

i hope its not. i still try to believe myself to be patient, for another 3 years till i complete everything.

but what am i to do within these 3 years?

i told myself to quit this job, but i am so afraid, tired even to see if there is anything out there for me.

who’ll employ me at this state of my life? how valuable can i be?

yes, it’s come to a point to ask myself how valuable my soul is.

but i still do nothing about it, but just let the world past by me each day.

somebody, hopefully will help me. because i can’t help myself.

it is that sad…

a rant

you know what i hate?

i hate of those fuckers who 15 years down the road still rambles on how top 10, 20 or even 30 percent they are during their PSLE days.

hello??

we live in this society who proclaims that we are moving on from the academia, bringing in the concept of total education to the next generation, and what do we have here? someone who rambles on how top they were during their long before days. i’ve friends who were the top of my batch ( as a reference before they swipe at me) and not once, not once they mentioned about what upon 300 scores they’ve got. the only reason i can comprehend why the suckers want to mention their scores to everyone is just to show how great and important their stand is. ‘oh you are so clever! and great!’ every single detail that strikes ‘this may make people go whoa on me’ be voiced out, be it the house or love life or anything. i don’t have responsibility in their life and neither do they, and god helps the day comes when they mention, ‘at least i make more money than you’, but i just have to ask this – is tell all, say all, the best satisfaction thing that you can achieve? like they say, no smoke, no fire…

so let the world know about everything, cos everyone wants to know a life of a tell all somebody..put on that stage ya’all

RIP: Best, George

George Best: 1946-2005

The Best Man Of The Match
Thursday November 24 2005

By John Nicholson

George Best was the greatest footballer ever to grace the English game, the best that many ever saw, possibly the greatest there ever was. John Nicholson remembers a man that none of us will ever forget.

He played a hell of a game. And now that his numbers come up on the Subs’ board of life, it’s time we gave him a rousing send off. Man of the match. Man of every match.

Georgie Best touched me and my generations life in the same way as the Beatles, Bob Dylan, Jack Kerouac or Jimmy Page did. He was that important. He was simply a cultural and sporting force of nature.

He was a far, far bigger phenomenon than any footballer today. It may be hard for younger fans to understand just how profound the impact Bestie made from the mid 60’s onwards was.

He all but invented modern football by himself.

He didn’t even look like any of his contemporaries. Put him in the Man United team today aged 18 and he would still look and play like a modern footballer. He’d fit right in, only he’d be far better than any player they have now, including Rooney. He was that ahead of his time. He was new, exciting and utterly utterly brilliant. He was in every way a man without peer.

Bestie invented the footballer as rock star concept without really trying. In an era of stout men of grit and muscle, Bestie was a thin sliver of a boy blessed with ball skills that were breath taking. The old films shows him bamboozling defenders like a magician doing tricks. All the more remarkable because he did it in an era when you could hack someone down and get away with it. But Bestie was rarely injured. He’d gone before they could get near him.

And what the old films don’t show you is the effortless way he moved across the pitch with or without the ball. He glided through the air like a ghost.

It was perpetual poetic motion. No other player I have seen since could run with the ball as easily as without it. He ran with perfect rhythm and poise. He seemed to barely touch the pitch with his boots. And no-one needed the benefit of hindsight to realise we were witnessing a genius. It was in your face. You couldn’t ignore it. Whoever you supported. We all knew.

His European performances in the 60’s in particular were moments of the highest art. No-one could quite believe it. He was so much better than any of his contemporaries and it was all so effortless to him.

But, of course, it wasn’t just the earth shattering football that Bestie will be remembered for. He was a fashion icon, even despite being in Grattons catalogue.He had great hair, great side burns. Like all rebel spirits, he wore his shirt untucked and socks rolled down. He bedded Miss Worlds and other more beautful women with his charm, good looks and money.

He was the very epitome of rock n roll football and there will never ever be his equal. Ever.

Maradona had all the talent and the addictive personality too but he was never a charming, beautiful man. He didn’t have the swagger or the poise of The Great Man. He didn’t have the poetry or the soul.

It’s worth remembering that Best retired when he was just about 28. Yes there was all the adventures in America, Fulham and even Barnet but in a way, they didn’t count. When he left Man United his real career was over. We knew it even then.

But what must it have been like to know that you were the brightest of all shooting stars and to know that all the world would love you just as long as you were? What must it have been like to burn so brightly for little more than 10 years and then have to live the rest of your life knowing it would never really be as good again? What pressures that would bring to bear on your soul is something we can’t understand.

And of course as well know, Georgie had his problems. Problems that eventually took him from us. At the highest levels of the arts, people are different. They’re not milk toast people who are always easy, pleasant or accommodating. The spirit of genius doesn’t always allow that. Maybe they feel too deeply, have too much vision and see the world differently to us.

You can excuse it or condemn it but it doesn’t alter the truth. Artists are different and Bestie was an artist of the highest order. He was imbued with the spark of the divine. The light of the immortal but it seems that the deal between God and the Devil meant that to have this genius, to even be called Best, he was in return to be possessed and ravaged by alcoholism.

None of us is perfect. We f**k up. We do the wrong things and behave badly and Georgie was no different but the reason so many of us can’t bring ourselves to say a bad word about the man is because he gave us so much in his playing days. In fact, I still feel like I owe Bestie something personally for all the awesome entertainment and artistry he gave me. For the inspiration to try to be creative, different and even to be f**ked up.

I just feel grateful to have seen him and to have been in the world at the same time as him.

And I think in our heart of hearts most of suspect that had we been him, with all that genius and the world literally at our feet, we too might have gone off the rails too. I’m not casting the first stone and I don’t think it’s anyone else place to either. After all, no one get’s out alive.

A poet, a rebel spirit, a revolutionary and a footballing aesthete the like of which shall never grace our lives again. Thank you Georgie Best; Superstar from all of us mere mortals.

the economist is vair misty

oh dear me.

at the rate i am going, the dreams of having my face planted (anywhere) on the Economist seems to be fading away. i don’t know why, but i am taking such a blardy long time to cover chapter after chapter. the exams are only in a few days time and i am still ponderring and frighteningly fascinated why mc=mr makes good sense.

nak jadi economist aper kalau jakun pasal tuh benda.

i wish i could buy more time in covering, let say, 13 more topics. and i have this tendency to not go with the flow. i love to skip topics. one moment im coverring on supply, the next on international trade. like, so unsystematic. my mind wanders like that. the concentration level can be gone in a snap of a finger.

oh well, better go watch that liverpool match now. i say that makes very good economical sense.

there goes that dream i say…