i am your guilty pleasure, your most exorbant leisure

new years eve is for celebrating your guts out with the likes of marcus kiat jerome chris xing wei yanni and wei ting.

































































new years day is for recovering from celebrating your guts out with the likes of marcus kiat jerome chris xing wei yanni and wei ting.

happy new year everybody! kicked things off with a start we did, what with the drunken revelry and wild partying at my place. we were supposed to go over to the white house park celebrations, but in the end we decided to polish off the copious amounts of high quality drink at my house!

great night! EVERYONE was drunk outta their minds(kiat became the unconscious victim of a raunchy video. im not gonna put it up here, ladies will find its content too... flaccid. hahahahahahahahahahaha) and after i plugged my ipod into the speakers we got down to BUSTING A MOVE BABY!!! techno and hip hop all night long my lovelies.

awesome : ) arguably one of the best house parties ive ever been to!!!

bad stuff: wei ting aggroing samuel(whooooooo that almost turned ugly right there). xing wei puking all over the floor, with me and yanni having to clean up(that bugger owes me big time). police.

all that aside though... thanks for coming everyone. with all of you being here for me, 2008 is looking up already! hey i just noticed... this is the 1st post of 2008. whoa. its not monumental, im not that much of an egoistic chump... it just strikes me as something noteworthy. the tally of posts on this blog grows and grows, and the memories contained here mellow and age well. i can glance back on 2007... and say its been one helluva year.

stick with me in 2008 alright my friends? you all mean the world to me. and remember to keep your eyes plastered here! till next time, i bid you all a very good year.

Fall Out Boy's Sugar, We're Going Down

Am I more than you bargained for yet?
I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear,
'Cause that's just who I am this week.
Lie in the grass, next to the mausoleum.
I'm just a notch in your bedpost,
But you're just a line in a song. (A notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song.)

Drop a heart, break a name.
We're always sleeping in, and sleeping for the wrong team.

We're going down, down in an earlier round.
And Sugar, we're going down swinging.
I'll be your number one with a bullet;
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it.