<?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-523466910026070957</id><updated>2011-07-30T07:08:48.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thought Factory</title><subtitle type='html'>"Every thought of yours is a real thing.. A force"- Prentice mulford</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-9005619457167886338</id><published>2010-04-29T12:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-01T09:06:37.751-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Father</title><content type='html'>This is an apology post. In my post, "Standing Up", I was angry and said many things about my dad that really didn't do him justice. My old man is amazing and I'm like him in so many ways(more than I'd care to admit under normal circumstances) . Not that I'm saying I'm amazing but feel free to use your imagination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Born into a well to do family of 6, he was the youngest child. India had recently gained it's independence and my grandfather was the assistant to the food minister of India at the time. All seemed to be going well until...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandfather passed away of a heart attack when my father was just 10 years old. For reasons unknown to me, the insurance never came through. The family had to move out of their beautiful government given house and was instantly plunged into poverty. My grandmother, who wasn't very well educated did her best to do what she could for her family. My eldest uncle was offered several jobs but was no where to be found when my family needed him the most and my aunts were still relatively young. From going to the school where the elite of the new India sent their offspring to a government school where the kids made fun of my father for being fluent in English. My dad somehow pulled through those years, excelling in all subjects except Geography I think it was which he failed ONCE and never forgot about(he's still sore about it to this day). He loved to play cricket like most Indian kids and when it was his turn to buy the cricket ball he would fold 100 pieces of paper into envelopes to make enough money to buy the ball. My aunts became typists at an early stage of their lives and gave their further education in the hopes of getting my father through his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With their continuous efforts and some help from a close family friend, my father got into one of the best universities in India. The Birla Institute of Technology and Science at the age of 16 (the creator of hotmail was his senior). A time he tells me when he had the time of his life. During my time in Perth, I had the privilege of having one of his best friends and university mates as a local guardian. He'd tell me heavily censored stories of the mischief they'd get up to but also of how hard working and focused my father was. The boys would get ready to go out partying and would come banging on his door calling him to come out with them and they'd find him, face buried in some book. He rarely joined them. When the final exams came along, he did not sleep for the last 3 days of the exams and worked himself to exhaustion. It all payed off when he graduated as the 2nd rank holder in the entire university.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediately after graduation, there were not many jobs going, so he applied for a job as a salesrep for a pharmaceutical company, which he got. Every day, he'd cycle 10 km on a rented bicycle to visit his clients. While working full time, he did a post graduate course in marketing and accounting. Fast forward a few years and he's happily married to my mother and working as a factory manager in Bangkok. He now had a company car but could be called on any day 24/7 to fix a crisis at the factory. While holding that job, he began to do another business course through correspondence. Even though he scored higher than any full-timer doing the same course, he had to give it up as he simply didn't have the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My old man is brilliant. He never EVER gives up and doesn't believe in no win situations. No man is self made but he's as close the term as one can get. He is the most well read and traveled person I know and seems to have the answers to all my questions. There's nothing in the world the man doesn't know about and he keeps learning and expanding his knowledge through the educational channels on Astro, more books and magazines. Admittedly, I'm not as close to him as I would like to be which is because of how much he had to travel and work, all to protect us from ever having to face even an ounce the hardship he did. Everything I am and everything I have today, I have because of my parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If my dad and I are anything like each other there's one thing I know about us. We never stop thinking. Constantly I am plagued with thoughts that my overactive mind seems to have an endless supply of. The resonating effect that all these thoughts have on me causes me to worry and quite a lot of the time, you'll find me staring into space, lost in thought. I suspect this, amplified by his intelligence must cause him great distress which is why he resorts to drinking to numb his senses. I do it by tiring myself out through sport but each to their own I guess. Also I think it would be honorable to mention that he has recently stopped drinking though I can see that he's clearly troubled about it. The pros, of course, outweigh the cons in this case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my previous post I mentioned that my father didn't do my mother right. I was over exaggerating. They had an argument and, fueled by anger I clearly blew it out of proportion on my post. He takes her on holidays to England, France, Switzerland and soon Hong Kong for the Andrea Bocelli (his favourite singer after "Celine Dion the Soprano!!" as he keeps reminding me) concert where they have front row seats. He has also never been physically violent with my mother. Hardly the traits of an abusive husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love and respect my father. If anyone out there, I don't care who you are,passes judgement on him, I will defend him with the same ferocity and enthusiasm that got him through life to where he is today and that defines us both. We are not and will never be spoilt trust fund brats. We are the underdogs. We are the epitome of perseverance.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-9005619457167886338?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/9005619457167886338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=9005619457167886338' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/9005619457167886338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/9005619457167886338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-father.html' title='My Father'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-4935489240052679462</id><published>2010-04-27T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T09:15:24.034-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahhh life</title><content type='html'>Misery is my inspiration today. Why am I miserable? Because I still can't decide what I want to do.&lt;br /&gt;I'm rarely like this but when  I am, oh my god... I mean I'm listening to snow patrol. I mean what next? Evanescense, red wine and guy-liner? Err, no thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every man must choose the path he wishes to take for the better years of his life. It's important to make sure you're making the right decision because if you want to get somewhere you're going to have to pay toll. Sacrifices have to be made if you want to succeed. For you dyslexic people who're only good with numbers, this is what I'm talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wake up- 8am&lt;br /&gt;Office- 9am-6pm&lt;br /&gt;Free time- 6pm-8pm&lt;br /&gt;Dinner- 8pm-9pm&lt;br /&gt;and between 9 to 11 assuming you don't have work to catch up on, you might be free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When family comes into the equation you have even less time for yourself. Hence the new generation of over worked, under payed and unfit middle age men with beer bellies living depressing lives increasingly spending their meager pay on therapy. Asian men don't see any benefits in spending so much money on therapy when they can relieve stress by beating their kids while certain western people who may not be able to afford therapy or are plain stingy choose to put their frustrations into being perverts. But I digress. Life is stressful. And being as Indian as I am, I don't want to pay toll with the intentions to go to Bombay and ending up in Lahore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than the above, the fact that I'm 21 and that I've lived outside home so much and suddenly have to abide with the " be home in time for dinner" and " don't come home after 11.30pm" rules has come as a rude shock to say the least. I'm talking finding Gandhi in your curry rude... Sure I'm living in my parents' house so I'm going to have to follow their rules but I'M 21!!!! No matter though, I have plans to escape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're observant, you've probably noticed that the article is getting kind of weak. I think it's because I've come to my senses and just realised that bitching about things achieves nothing... except making you realise that you're being a bitch and bitching achieves nothing. Which kind of makes it beneficial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to make my decision and follow the yellow brick government taxed road to Bombay. Wish me luck&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-4935489240052679462?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/4935489240052679462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=4935489240052679462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/4935489240052679462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/4935489240052679462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2010/04/ahhh-life.html' title='Ahhh life'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-7458609676066501732</id><published>2010-02-12T21:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T21:32:18.341-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pilot song</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;A hilarious song highlighting the typical cocky behavior of pilots&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/__s4OMTVyhI&amp;amp;hl=en_US&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/__s4OMTVyhI&amp;amp;hl=en_US&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/523466910026070957-7458609676066501732?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/7458609676066501732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=7458609676066501732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/7458609676066501732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/7458609676066501732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2010/02/pilot-song.html' title='The Pilot song'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-7557502810460232326</id><published>2010-02-06T02:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T09:26:19.127-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rum and Racism</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S22ikYYtbxI/AAAAAAAAADY/2joU6DCUDGM/s1600-h/lewin+estate.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/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S22ikYYtbxI/AAAAAAAAADY/2joU6DCUDGM/s320/lewin+estate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435179071211138834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S21DyH0rbMI/AAAAAAAAADQ/7KZGug8WFnI/s1600-h/singing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S21DyH0rbMI/AAAAAAAAADQ/7KZGug8WFnI/s320/singing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435074853678574786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S21Dx5EMkvI/AAAAAAAAADI/0Lsfn4ajOpI/s1600-h/paintball.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S21Dx5EMkvI/AAAAAAAAADI/0Lsfn4ajOpI/s320/paintball.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435074849717129970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S21DxvQ2q5I/AAAAAAAAADA/sBdglfAoMbA/s1600-h/me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S21DxvQ2q5I/AAAAAAAAADA/sBdglfAoMbA/s320/me.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435074847085865874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I've been in Perth for almost 2 years now, and I think I've had a reasonably good time...What am I talking about, it's been amazing! I've flown across Australia with my classmate in a single engine piston engine aircraft. I've gone on countless wild nights where we behaved like monkeys out of hell fueled on a chaotic cocktail concoction made of cocaine, crystal meth and heroin, and I've met some great people( and plenty of dickheads), seen some amazing things and acquired some priceless gems of knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the thing though. Unless you've been living up your own ass for the last 3 to 4 years there are a few things you'd know. There have been numerous attacks on foreign students in Australia, a significant number of them on Indian students. About a month ago, an Indian student was beaten to death in Melbourne. Indian students are 2.5 times more likely to get attacked than other ethnic groups in Australia, and yet the government has not yet labeled these attacks as racist. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? Okay hold on, lets try to look at this from the government's point of view. Okay, so there have been countless attacks on Indian students and witnesses state that they saw the assailants  provoke the Indians with names such as " curry muncher"(which I am disgusted at but find strangely hilarious) and other derogatory terms people over here use to describe Indians, but that doesn't make the attacks racially motivated. Nope, sorry, the government is run by morons, clearly they don't know what they're talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not just brown people they're racist to, it's everyone who's remotely different. Even white people have to deal with racism here. Yupp, you read correctly, white people. Okay, here's my circle of friends in Perth. Almost all of us are foreign students. I live in a house with 1 half dutch half Indian guy, a dutch girl, A Scott, An Irishman, A Malteaser (he's from Malta), An Aussie and An English girl. The people from the other student houses are half Honduran half English, English, Half Mauritian half English, Italian, half Indian half English, Belgian and Mauritian. And all of us get along just fine. Last night, we decided to go to the 'night life center' of Perth. Personally I think it's a shit hole where men with small weiners try to compensate for size by picking fights with as many people as they can. The place is poorly lit, not very pretty and smells of every excreted bodily fluid known to mankind. There's so much violence that goes on around there that every weekend, half of Perth's police force patrols the area to stop young drunk people between the ages of 18-25 from beating the living shit out of each other. What am I missing... Hmm, oh that's right, they actually have lockup vans to throw people into waiting there. When the van gets full enough, they drive back to the police station. Such is the state of the night life here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night started out pretty well actually. We got a maxi cab that holds about 11 people and were screaming down the highway towards northbridge with great dance music blasting from the speakers. We could tell it was going to be a good night. Or so we thought.  The first time I was outraged that night was when a bouncer refused to let one of my English friends in because he seemed to be too drunk. Bullshit, he looked fine, bouncers are muscle bound dickheads who love to fight and want to get paid for it. When my friend asked the bouncer why, the bouncer told him , AND I QUOTE, " Go back to your queen". What the hell is that about?! Completely unnecessary, not to mention,  racist. Needless to say we had to pull my semi-intoxicated friend away to stop him from getting his face smashed in by the bouncer. FINE.. if we can't get in there, we'll go to another club. We're standing in line and there are no issues. Everyone in front of me gets in, YES! this  is going to be awsome. I walk up to the bouncer, he checks my passport, but looks at my shoes and goes, " sorry, can't let you in with those".. Argh, fine, frustrated as I was I didn't want to argue with him. The club had a dress code and I didn't look the part. Fine. But what happened next would have made even Hitler go, " what the scheiser is that about!?". An annoying girl walks out of the club in slippers and goes to the same bouncer who didn't let me in " OH! THANKS FOR LETTING ME IN WITH FLIP FLOPS!", and stumbles off with her drunken-ass husband.  It took a lot of effort to not walk up to that prick and floor him straight away. I guess the fact that he was one of those bald muscly tough guys helped me control my rage.  Fuck it I thought, 2 of my friends were still with me, we walked to a different bar. Between meeting up with the main group and hanging out in the other bar, I learn that 3 of my friends tried to get into the same club that sent me walking. The same shiny headed cock juggling thunder cunt turned my friend( who as a bit of an accent) away for not wearing the right kind of shoes. When he tried reasoning with the bouncer, he goes, " Your shoes are ugly! Do you understand english? Comprende?" making fun of his accent.  RACISM.. BASTARD! My other 2 friends did not like at all how JC was treated and got into an argument with the bouncer and he just pushed them away. He got violent as well..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The saddest part about all this is we can't do anything about this. If we complain to the management of the club, they'll just ignore us. If we complain to the police, they'd just see us as a bunch of drunk people looking to stir shit. And of course the government wouldn't help at all because they're too busy trying to look important and have lots of unnecessary forms to invent to make they're people's lives more miserable. Excellent. There's nothing we can do. It's like hiding dog shit under the carpet. You can't see the dog shit but your nose is screaming that it's there. And this place reeks of racism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know what the world needs? The world needs more vigilates.  I'm not talking mislead extremist people, or masked men who wear their underwear on the outside and run around in capes, I'm talking decent people willing to stand up for a noble cause. People who can and will punish  wrongdoings such as racism, on the spot. Eliminate the scum of the human race or beat enough sense into them so that they realise that they can't treat people the way they do. The world has plenty of pen pushers. What we need is more firepower. Whoever said violence is not the answer got it wrong. Violence should never be the answer but sometimes it is. It's people like the Burmese Junta, Robbert Mugabi, Saddam Hussein (who got what he deserved eventually but for the wrong reasons) and Pervez Musharraf are just some examples of people who have/are getting away with atrocities. People like them don't need to be sent strongly worded letters or have their actions condemned. Oooo you sent Mugabi a strongly worded letter to condemn his actions.. his bunny slippers just ran for cover.... No, people like them need to be shot.  And to all you pacifists who don't agree with what I'm saying, what are you going to do about it? Yeah.. that's what I thought, my point exactly. I'm not saying Gandhi was a useless prick, I'm just saying that to purge the world of the likes of people I mentioned above, one can't go on huger strikes or sign petitions to make things happen. Screw the paperwork, send the military in, kick ass and be done with it once and for all. &lt;span style="color: rgb(128, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  All that is needed for the forces of evil to triumph is for enough     good men to do nothing.  &lt;br /&gt;-Edmund Burke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;I'm not saying that we're not doing ANYTHING but we are capable of doing so much more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little message to all the scumbag bouncers out there; Fuck you, get a real job doorman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to the rednecks who chased me down the road in my car and all the other racist people out there, Foreigners and foreign students bring unimaginable amounts of money into your country helping it prosper and making it much better than you would ever be able to sitting on your ass at home, unemployed and getting paid by the government for doing nothing. Fuck you too.&lt;br /&gt;&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/523466910026070957-7557502810460232326?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/7557502810460232326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=7557502810460232326' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/7557502810460232326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/7557502810460232326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2010/02/rum-and-racism.html' title='Rum and Racism'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S22ikYYtbxI/AAAAAAAAADY/2joU6DCUDGM/s72-c/lewin+estate.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-8081418651743907773</id><published>2010-01-10T06:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T03:46:18.414-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mellow Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S0nnCMZShYI/AAAAAAAAAB4/thE-lQyXUho/s1600-h/v.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/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S0nnCMZShYI/AAAAAAAAAB4/thE-lQyXUho/s320/v.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425121251017524610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ah, irony. Remember back in school, after the holidays your first English assignment would almost definitely be " what did you do during the holiday" and how you'd let out a groan and really not want to write about it? Well here I am writing about my holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, I wasn't even meant to be going home in December. I was focused and gearing up to finish off my Australian ATPL theory exams.  Reminiscing about life back then ( i.e a month and a half ago, seems like AGES ago typing about it now) things were quite different. I was more highly strung than a pulled back bow, my room was a mess and I hated everything(and at times everyone).  I felt like everything was out to get me, I was tripping on every vine hidden in the undergrowth of the forest called life and I was PISSED OFF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there I was, angry, mentally exhausted, messy, frustrated and worried. Life was a Cessna 152 Aerobat spiraling out of control and I was behind the controls disoriented and throwing up. Until one afternoon when I get a phone call from my sister. For reasons I don't really want to mention on my blog,  I immediately knew I had to go home. The tickets were booked for the week after and relief began to set in. I was going home! Back to the land of Nasi Lemak, old friends and of course mum's cooking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, this isn't a very interesting post, but my point is, somewhere between between going to Thailand for a holiday , hanging out with old friends, regular family feuds and finding the guts to confess feelings I've had for someone for a while now, I've become more mellow. Even in stress inducing situations, I seem to be able to calmly deescalate the problem.Everything seems so much easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S1LorKaxCxI/AAAAAAAAACY/o1vV4dziebU/s1600-h/17012010242.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/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S1LorKaxCxI/AAAAAAAAACY/o1vV4dziebU/s320/17012010242.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427656329163508498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, I there will be times when I'll be down on my luck and I'll feel like giving up but now, deep down inside I know I'll come out smiling in the end. " Things always work out in the end. If they haven't yet, its not the end"- I forgot who said that. A thought that brings great comfort to me in times of adversity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what it is or why it has happened but I am thankful for it. I feel one step closer to ' Finding out what I'm really made of', and even though I see almost impenetrable storms in the skies of my life, I know that bruised and battered as I may get I will eventually power through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S1L1YgHQ3oI/AAAAAAAAACo/J0ksv0Ygmbo/s1600-h/777.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 217px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S1L1YgHQ3oI/AAAAAAAAACo/J0ksv0Ygmbo/s320/777.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427670302220934786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something has definitely changed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-8081418651743907773?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/8081418651743907773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=8081418651743907773' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/8081418651743907773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/8081418651743907773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2010/01/mellow-me.html' title='Mellow Me'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/S0nnCMZShYI/AAAAAAAAAB4/thE-lQyXUho/s72-c/v.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-5000111372300818427</id><published>2010-01-04T05:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T07:33:49.895-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Standing up</title><content type='html'>Today, I am pissed off.. No.. That would be an understatement.. Imagine Satan taking an afternoon nap, which he probably deserves seeing as the bastard works so hard taking care of serial murderers, rapists, dictators and Walt Disney  . Now imagine sneaking up next to him and setting an air horn off right next to his ear. That is how pissed off I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My drunken-ass father tells me today that he expects me to work as a salesman in his company and get my MBA part time... That is just retarded. Studying to get an MBA full time would take someone about 5 years. Imagine trying to do it part-time. I'd be stuck doing something I HATE for YEARS before I go on to doing something worthwhile. If I had better qualifications, I wouldn't have to be stuck doing grunt work. I mean we're not Bill Gates rich but I know that we can easily afford the full time course I planned to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He thinks he's so f*cking great... Granted, he achieved a lot but that doesn't give him the right to treat everyone at home(especially my poor mother) like sh!t.  His idea of being a good father and husband is simply providing for his family. There's so much more to it, and even I know that! His ego is intolerable and he stumbles around parties intoxicated boasting his achievements. Frankly, I find it embarrassing to be around him most of the time. That night at the party, he drove me home drunk and the following day made jokes at my expense in front of his friends about how he was perfectly safe to drive and I was worrying for no reason. THE MAN COULDN'T EVEN WALK STRAIGHT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it, no more of this bullshit. I've made my decision... I will blaze my own trail. I'll become a Commercial Pilot and finance my own further education.  The further I get away from him the better it will be for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-5000111372300818427?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/5000111372300818427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=5000111372300818427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/5000111372300818427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/5000111372300818427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2010/01/standing-up.html' title='Standing up'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-5914771839205415561</id><published>2010-01-03T05:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-05-01T21:38:09.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DUTY</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DUTY, &lt;/span&gt;the social force that binds you to the courses of action demanded by that force.&lt;br /&gt;Usage: "we must instill a sense of duty in our children".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was my father's weapon of choice when he told me that the last 2 years of my life spent working towards a career as an Airline Pilot were so that I could "have my fun for a year or two but eventually get into business".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always known that I would become a Pilot.  I have been obsessed with flying since I was 5 years old.  90% of my time outdoors was spent gazing into the wild blue spotting Airplanes wondering how high they were flying, how fast they were going and what the view was like from the cockpit. The fact that my mother did marketing for the aviation magazine "Flight International" and got free copies of the mags only fed my  obsession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward 14 years and there I was, fresh out of A-Levels( which I hated) and behind the controls of a Cessna 152. I mean sure it was no Concorde but it flew. From the minute the wheels left the ground I was hooked. I've never done any hard drugs before but I recognized addiction. Flying an aircraft all by yourself (after learning to overcome the airsickness) is one of the most beautiful experiences very few people get to experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another 2 years fly by(no pun intended) and there I was, 2 stripes on each shoulder and a smile on my face, knocking off my ATPL exams and looking for a job. Everything seemed to be going according to the plan I had formed when I was 12, Until...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's December the 14th and I am home for some of the Australian summer.(That's right people,  television is a lie!  December means winter for only the northern hemisphere while the southern hemisphere hits temperatures of up to 45 degress celcius! Santa on this side of the world is a strange man board shorts, thongs and a singlet who's sleigh is really a cart towed by kangaroos). I'm sitting with my dad after coming home and out of nowhere he goes, in Hindi, " What are you going to do as A pilot? There's not much money for a lot of years of your life..."  I go on to tell him that it's been my dream for ages, which he already knows. That's when the word pops up. Duty." It is your &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DUTY&lt;/span&gt; to work for and maybe one day take over the company." He goes on to tell me the story about how &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mukesh_Ambani"&gt;Mukesh Ambani&lt;/a&gt; got called on by his father IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS MBA COURSE to come back and take charge of the family business.  Mukesh Ambani went on to make about 10 times more than his then 2 billion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things  my father said in his drunken stupor really hit me though. The first being, " Son, as a Pilot, all you'll do is fly people around, and lose years of your life in the air(some people have total flying times of around 25000 hours, equivalent to about 3 years spent in the air, away from their families and friends) but work for and manage businesses and you employ people, and feed their families. You help economies grow and what you leave behind becomes your legacy." Now the reason this hit me is because about a year and a half ago, I had deecided that I somehow wanted to help Asia. I wanted to help it grow and make it a better place. I wanted to help bring out it's full potential and help as many people as possible because, god knows that  the world we live in needs all the help it can get and if you have the ability to make a difference no matter how small, you shouldn't hold back. And the reason I want to help Asia in particular is simply because I am Asian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second thing my father said that really hit me was, " Don't you ever think you were meant for something bigger? Why build a hut when you're capable of a Taj Mahal?"(Yes, I know, he is extremely Indian, It's because of people like him that the word is an adjective as much as it is a nationality) Now this really got me thinking... I'm the kind of person who always pushes to see how far he can take something.(which, needless to say, has gotten me into heaps of shit but also won me quite a few things).  Just like with life, in rock climbing when you encounter this one hold out of arm's reach and there's no other way to get to it but to leap? At that moment we have 2 choices. A, not leap, stay where we are, get fatigued and eventually fall off, Or B, leap and maybe accomplish something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After typing all this out, I realize something. Not all weapons were designed for destruction. It also appears that I have come to a decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can always fly recreationally, it's more fun than pushing buttons and monitoring systems in big jets. Looks likeI'm going to university!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-5914771839205415561?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/5914771839205415561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=5914771839205415561' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/5914771839205415561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/5914771839205415561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2010/01/duty.html' title='DUTY'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-4204009514951774083</id><published>2009-01-05T06:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T06:45:30.333-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>And though I carry with me a heavy heart and suitcases of sorrow, my spirit shall not be broken.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-4204009514951774083?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/4204009514951774083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=4204009514951774083' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/4204009514951774083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/4204009514951774083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-though-i-carry-with-me-heavy-heart.html' title=''/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-3740676355133901927</id><published>2008-11-10T06:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T07:25:02.997-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I dont even know what to call this...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Once again, it has been about 2 months since my last post and it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; really a real post. Really. The past few days have really got me thinking. For quite a while now, I have been pretty ignorant. To politics, towards my education, and everything else you could possibly think of. Why? Because the world is ugly, nay, disgusting. The things people are capable of. Things like Rape, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;homicide&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, death by starvation or curable diseases, and muggings can be counted by the second. Looks like there is no hope for the human race... That we are going to destroy ourselves and every other organism unfortunate enough to be stuck on this balloon that by the looks of it, could pop at any time ,with us. Not to mention the hurt we cause to people who care about us. We lie, cheat, get divorced, find new loved ones (and if my inverted comma button was not broken, that would be in inverted commas) who are heartless to our kids and are only interested in our money, sex or both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All this taken into account, we can not discount the more beautiful side of life. Love, the things you would do for that special someone, how you feel like you could do anything you wanted, and that all dreams come true ( As long as he/she loves you back that is, otherwise its like walking around with an ever growing hole in your chest.. ). Art, something I have a very limited understanding of. Music, performing arts, emotion, passion,humor,  the list just goes on and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Does anyone else think it was an accident that we got this intelligent? Because if you look at every other life form known to man, their sole purpose is to reproduce. But human beings, contrary to what you people think, are not satisfied by just sex. We need a higher purpose, and refuse to believe that the only reason we are here is to make more of us and then die. Yeah, I feel extremely useful now. Which then brings me to the conclusion that we are simply here to enjoy ourselves. That our life is a gift and that we are meant to enjoy it.  But wait, if that is true, what about those malnourished children in Africa slowly dying of starvation or AIDS? Is their life a gift too? How are they supposed to enjoy it? To them life is merely a sentence to be trapped in a prison of flesh to suffer &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;immeasurable&lt;/span&gt; amounts of pain until, mercifully, they die.  WHY ARE WE HERE!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Sometimes I think about how easy it would be to have an instruction manual for life. It would make &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;things&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt;  easier... Oh wait, hold on, there are instruction manuals for life. I will reserve my views of religion because I will probably end up insulting many. &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;What exactly are we looking for? Is it happiness? Enlightenment?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;I am so confused right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-3740676355133901927?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/3740676355133901927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=3740676355133901927' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/3740676355133901927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/3740676355133901927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-dont-even-know-what-to-call-this.html' title='I dont even know what to call this...'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-4285918368591291699</id><published>2008-09-17T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T06:10:44.231-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To my previous post.</title><content type='html'>NOTE:&lt;br /&gt;1. Pilots must insure that all surly bonds have been slipped entirely before aircraft taxi or flight is attempted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. During periods of severe sky dancing, crew and passengers must keep seatbelts fastened. Crew should wear shoulderbelts as provided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Sunward climbs must not exceed the maximum permitted aircraft ceiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Passenger aircraft are prohibited from joining the tumbling mirth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Pilots flying through sun-split clouds under VFR conditions must comply with all applicable minimum clearances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Do not perform these hundred things in front of Federal Aviation Administration inspectors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Wheeling, soaring, and swinging will not be attempted except in aircraft rated for such activities and within utility class weight limits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Be advised that sunlit silence will occur only when a major engine malfunction has occurred.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. "Hov'ring there" will constitute a highly reliable signal that a flight emergency is imminent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Forecasts of shouting winds are available from the local FSS. Encounters with unexpected shouting winds should be reported by pilots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Pilots flinging eager craft through footless halls of air are reminded that they alone are responsible for maintaining separation from other eager craft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Should any crewmember or passenger experience delirium while in the burning blue, submit an irregularity report upon flight termination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Windswept heights will be topped by a minimum of 1,000 feet to maintain VFR minimum separations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Aircraft engine ingestion of, or impact with, larks or eagles should be reported to the FAA and the appropriate aircraft maintenance facility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Aircraft operating in the high untresspassed sanctity of space must remain in IFR flight regardless of meteorological conditions and visibility.16. Pilots and passengers are reminded that opening doors or windows in order to touch the face of God may result in loss of cabin pressure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-4285918368591291699?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/4285918368591291699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=4285918368591291699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/4285918368591291699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/4285918368591291699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2008/09/to-my-previous-post.html' title='To my previous post.'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-6960245193052496698</id><published>2008-06-29T08:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T08:48:37.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HIGH FLIGHT</title><content type='html'>Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred thingsYou have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,I've chased the shouting wind along, and flungMy eager craft through footless halls of air. . . .&lt;br /&gt;Up, up the long, delirious burning blue I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace Where never lark, or ever eagle flew —And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod The high untrespassed sanctity of space,Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.&lt;br /&gt;— John Gillespie Magee, Jr&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-6960245193052496698?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/6960245193052496698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=6960245193052496698' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/6960245193052496698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/6960245193052496698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2008/06/high-flight.html' title='HIGH FLIGHT'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-4413333019017564035</id><published>2008-06-17T02:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T06:24:32.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FRIDAY NIGHT</title><content type='html'>Friday night was, I can quite safely say, one of THE MOST INSANE NIGHTS OF MY LIFE!   Now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Im&lt;/span&gt; not bragging or anything but I have seen my share of insane nights. Started out as a crap day. Friday the 13&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, need I say more? I was due for my solo and all I needed to do was nail my landings. Not flying for 2 weeks because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;CASA&lt;/span&gt; were taking their time with my license &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; help at all. Needless to say, I screwed up. Everything was perfect except my flair( keeping the nose wheel off the ground for a while when you land).  After an hour of crap landings, we decided to call it a session. I stormed back into the building in a really REALLY bad mood. My instructor Charles heard about what happened and walked up to me. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;preflight&lt;/span&gt; the plane he says, We;re going up to fix your landings. I nodded stormed off to get my stuff. 5 minutes later, I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;preflighting&lt;/span&gt; my plane with a snickers bar sticking out of my face. I was going to fix my landings and nothing was going to stand in my way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We were coming in to land and everything seemed alright. Then, Plonk, landed on all 3 wheels again.  F***, I mutter.  Relax man, goes Charles (while we;re still rolling along). I give her full power and as I do, he very calmly explains my mistake and how I should fix it. Something he said clicked and I nodded. Coming in for the second landing all seemed well, got closer and closer to the ground and then Squeak! the sound of the back wheels hitting the tarmac first. The best feeling ever. After a couple of pretty nice landings, we taxi back to the parking bay. You tired? Charles asks. Nope, why? I reply. we are going to see if we can get you another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-solo check. By this time all my friends, or as they call them over here, mates are at the pilot bar. It is also about an hour to sunset by now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;preflight&lt;/span&gt; my 3rd plane for the day and anxiously wait at the pilot bar for my class 2 instructor. The sky was already a deep gold and I was pacing a bar filled with tipsy friends like a madman. And then, I get a phone call. Its &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Charles&lt;/span&gt;, the guy was on the ground! I rush onto the tarmac only to see a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Mooney&lt;/span&gt; taxiing at an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;excruciatingly slowly. I jump into my plane and and get myself ready. Couple of minutes later the testing instructor jumps in as well. Fixed your landings? He asks. I think so I reply with a nervous smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; After the fastest run-up I had ever done, we were airborne. Around to crosswind, downwind, base and finally onto final approach, I set the plane up for the landing. 60 knots, check, Carb heat off, check, flaps 3, check, centerline, check. As the ground got closer and closer I thought, this is it, if i screw this up, there wont be any time left to do my solo anyway. Above the ground now, leveling off, I take a deep breath, pull the power and feel the plane sink slowly. I ease back on the controls and Squeak! Touchdown. Nice landing he says. Whew... We soar off into the sky for a second one. And this time, He requests the option on downwind(option to stop, get out and release me for my solo). My heart starts pounding now. I come in on finals and Squeak! Another good landing. He makes me taxi him to the run up bay where he gets out and gives me a thumbs up. JUST FLY THE PLANE!!, he yells over the buzz of the propeller. I give him a thumbs up and he slams the door shut and jogs away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; So there I was, by myself. I will admit, my legs did shake a little bit. CALM DOWN, I told myself. At the moment, Something made me look on the roof of the Aero club building.  Perfect I thought as I counted like 12 of my friends watching me, more pressure. But it sure as hell was nice to know that I had my them watching me, cheering me on. As you can tell from the video on my previous post.  JULIET BRAVO X RAY CLEARED TO LINEUP, I hear on the radio just as my thoughts begin to wander. I read the clearance back and line up on the runway when I hear, Cleared for takeoff, Juliet bravo X ray. This is it, I thought, no turning back. I gave her full power and she just lunged forward without the excess weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   When I got up to 1000 feet, I looked around and was simply awestruck. The suns head was poking just over the horizon, quite like a little kid peeping over a wall, splashing a sea of gold onto the land, river and lakes. In complete contrast, the sky was a deep blue, almost black. It was amazing. Okay, I thought, time to land this thing. Final approach. Everything looks good. CLEARED TO LAND, JULIET BRAVO X RAY. Here we go, here we go, here we go, Hold, hold!! Squeak! YESSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I was ecstatic as I slowly taxied off the runway. Juliet Bravo X ray, congratulations on your first solo, goes ground control, and I acknowledge him.  Charles, my instructor, was already waiting for me at the parking bay, I could see that typical Charlie-grin all the way from the runway. I do my checks and shut the plane down. Congratulations!, he says. He looked pretty proud at that moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  So we walk towards the RACWA( Royal Aero Club of Western Australia) building where the class 2 instructor shakes my had and congratulates me. A photograph of me ringing the traditional bell and a couple of photographs later, we make our way to the pilot bar where I am greeted by a roar of clapping, yays and hugs. It was truly amazing. My friends are amazing. I buy all of us a round and beer never tasted so good. That, was just the beginning of my Friday the 13th.&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/523466910026070957-4413333019017564035?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/4413333019017564035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=4413333019017564035' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/4413333019017564035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/4413333019017564035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2008/06/friday-night.html' title='FRIDAY NIGHT'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-9100874183041192578</id><published>2008-06-14T04:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T04:08:51.309-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My sunset solo</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-4a73719e847b681d" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D4a73719e847b681d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330140673%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3458B4B5527F5242486195A9CABE0E25F23F44C2.47BDB7D507CBD81DC5B69A2276130A0AC7294801%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D4a73719e847b681d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DFvO5GRVA8ZvgZxqt4ZlsPSIps6M&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D4a73719e847b681d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330140673%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3458B4B5527F5242486195A9CABE0E25F23F44C2.47BDB7D507CBD81DC5B69A2276130A0AC7294801%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D4a73719e847b681d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DFvO5GRVA8ZvgZxqt4ZlsPSIps6M&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;Thats me on the radio!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-9100874183041192578?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=4a73719e847b681d&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/9100874183041192578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=9100874183041192578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/9100874183041192578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/9100874183041192578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-sunset-solo.html' title='My sunset solo'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-7880457100443745019</id><published>2008-05-31T20:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T20:36:32.758-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Australia</title><content type='html'>T'was about a month and a half ago when I  landed here and so far it's been pretty good overall. Perth, believe it or not is one of the most expensive cities over here.  An the inflation going on in the country at the moment really doesn't help. All that aside, the flying here is BEAUTIFUL. It's a little cold when you go up  there. I got to experience what it was like to go upside and spiral towards the ground. You actually float in your seat if you're not strapped in properly. Amazing stuff. The crappy part about Wester Australia is that everything closes so damn early. I mean, This gigantic fucking mall right next to my house (about half the size of mid valley) closes at 5 everyday. And I finish school at 5 so it's a mad dash if i need groceries. Yes, I actually dash for groceries now, laugh it up.  Made a few friends here as well. Not really close to most of them but they're pretty okay people.  The other night I went to a club and OH MY GOD.. I was really tipsy. So anyway, these 2 girls from med school come along and sit down next to my friends and I We make some small talk and after a bit, they asked us what we do and we said we were student pilots. Naturally, we asked them what they did, and they said they were in med school. Like a moron, I go, "oh, you can examine us then"... hahaha Oh my god... And I make fun of people who come up with lines like that. ARGH!  Felt bloody lame. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~fiN~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-7880457100443745019?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/7880457100443745019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=7880457100443745019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/7880457100443745019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/7880457100443745019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2008/05/australia.html' title='Australia'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-4781342947179435162</id><published>2007-12-08T05:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T07:17:48.832-08:00</updated><title type='text'>After the exams.</title><content type='html'>Bad things happen in threes right? Heres what happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My exams were over. Nothing left to do but have as much fun as i possibly could before i left malaysia on the 4th of january. Life was AMAZING. Paintball, swimming, movies, friends and waking up whenever I wanted to bloody wake up. And then came paintball day. It was Diana, Tijo, Me and Shaun versus Shaun's friends from methodist college(cock suckers... You'll see why in a bit).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was already high strung. My visa form for australia said 8 weeks processing and I didn't bloody have 8 weeks( It was already the 30th of november). Alright, fine, I still stayed positive. Ureeeya used to work in this agency that helped students get their visas to study in Australia so I hoped her ex boss might be able to help me out. When we reached the building he wasen't there so we waited outside. We laughed, I made fun of her, bla bla bla (haha) everything was fine. Until I get a call from Shaun. "Oh, three out of 5 people from my side backed out. 2 are twins and one backed out because he says he would feel left out." WHAT THE HELL!? HOW CAN YOU BACK OUT ON THE DAY ITSELF AFTER I GET 5 PEOPLE FROM MY SIDE TO COMMIT THEIR TIME AND MONEY?! Well, it wasen't Shaun's fault but it really pissed me off. I had to pull Ureeeya and Azim(sometimes known as Fadzil) into the game. Which i completely didn't mind doing but I shouldn't have had to. Homos...(the methodist guys)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we finally get enough people for paintball. Great. I calmed down a little. Maybe I'll stay in Malaysia for another 4 months and enjoy myself more. Might be my last major holiday forever because the school only has 8 days off in the entire course and when I start working, well, airlines never stop working. So. Back to the paintball game. I decided to use the protective vest thing for the forst time ever. I have my fair share of scars and didn't intend on adding to my collection. It was a really fun game. But NOT ONCE did I get shot where I was protected. Yes, big time ouchies. BAD THING NUMBER 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The very next day,I had a swimming competition. As I took my shirt off and walked towards the pool for warm-up, I turned heads for all the wrong reasons. One of my friends pointed at the circular bruise on my shoulder( one of many i might add) and asked me what had happened? " Over excited girlfriend." I said and we had a laugh. My first race was shit. So was my second. Dropped out of my third because I felt so unfit. One whole month of not training left me pretty unfit. Damn A levels(and swedes). But my day doesn't end there. After the meet, i got changed and got into my car with 2 friends. I was giving them a lift home. We were driving, talking and having fun. All of a sudden i feel something on my leg. Like an idiot, I look down. BANG! I hit this car in front of me. FUCK! Everyone was okay but my car was pretty banged up. and so was the car infront of mine. The third car suffered barely any damage though. This angry guy wearing an MUFC shirt gets out and starts shouting at me.(I hate MU fans) I calmly get out of the car and apologise and as I do i notice people on the swim team i know driving past the accident. How embarassing, god. Anyway, long story short, I made a police report and went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents have been getting on my nerves ever since. I mean its not like I drove recklessly or anything I got distracted and it was an accident. I understand their frustration, my dad really pissed me off when he said, " You don't have the brains to drive a car, how do you expect to fly a plane?!", I simply ignored him and walked upstairs. My car has been at the workshop since the monday after the accident. Yesterday I went to MPH and bought 7 books. All of which I intend to finish. Something to keep me busy while I wait for my car. Till then, I rot at home..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*breathes out*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~fIn~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-4781342947179435162?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/4781342947179435162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=4781342947179435162' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/4781342947179435162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/4781342947179435162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2007/12/blessing-or-curse.html' title='After the exams.'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-8021511301724416958</id><published>2007-11-10T09:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T09:04:36.264-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE MOST AMAZING POST EVER WRITTEN</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://blithest.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://blithest.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-8021511301724416958?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/8021511301724416958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=8021511301724416958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/8021511301724416958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/8021511301724416958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2007/11/most-amazing-post-ever-written.html' title='THE MOST AMAZING POST EVER WRITTEN'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-5998993173624579541</id><published>2007-11-04T06:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T06:31:17.827-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been a while.</title><content type='html'>I got tired of studying physics application so I thought I'd update this thing. Nothing much to say really. I AM SO SICK OF MY ROOM! I SWEAR!!! ARGH! It's been nothing but how to do this? how to do that? Shit I forgot to read through that. And to make things worse I haven't been to the pool in weeks. The stress just keeps building up. As someone told me yesterday, take it a day at a time. I tend to plan too far ahead, and only end up disappointing myself. After the Big A's it's going to be phenomenal though. I already have a paintball game planned(including the attack strategies). I'm also going to take this time to get as fast as I possibly can before leaving my swimming club in January or early Febuary. I'll read about stuff I like for a change. And I'll write. Something. Anything. I've always wanted to write. And I'll finally be able to do all the research i ever wanted to about flying. But for now I have to stay focused. "Eye on the prize, failure isn't an option.", my dad says.  Well i'm off to continue with my physics. All the best to all you A levelers out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-5998993173624579541?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/5998993173624579541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=5998993173624579541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/5998993173624579541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/5998993173624579541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2007/11/its-been-while.html' title='It&apos;s been a while.'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-1057603242925254034</id><published>2007-10-23T06:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T07:00:18.767-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A 2</title><content type='html'>The Midnight Hour is at hand;With Fear creeping across the land.The beginning of the end, is A2;question is,will you make it through? But making it through isn't it, your grades could still be shit.Making it great is what counts, and as we work the pressure mounts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we work and study, We start to remember our buddies.As we start to reminisce,Dammit, I can't find anything to rhyme with this. I feel like studying is all i know, No chicks no fun, no nothing but sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But soon my friends we shall be free,and on the Cambridge shield we shall pee. No more DotA, no more CS, Off to get my BS.Once again we go our separate ways, But no my friends, this is not the end of our days.For we shall meet once again, In a year, or ten,For bonds were formed that were so strong, They could not be broken by any wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let us smile and rejoice,While we re-sit our multiple choice.For in the end we all know, that there's happiness and no sorrow.I bid good luck to all my friends, and as we go through A2's loops and bends, let us not forget the awesome mix, that was 0606.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by abhay &amp;amp; aditya&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-1057603242925254034?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/1057603242925254034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=1057603242925254034' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/1057603242925254034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/1057603242925254034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2007/10/2_23.html' title='A 2'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-7738835958808313011</id><published>2007-10-23T06:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T06:25:59.776-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-7738835958808313011?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/7738835958808313011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=7738835958808313011' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/7738835958808313011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/7738835958808313011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2007/10/2.html' title=''/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-8539692351545611555</id><published>2007-07-12T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T07:43:19.941-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happiness is...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/RpY9-rekHGI/AAAAAAAAABE/iHIfFTmcl1Q/s1600-h/bukit+kiara.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086320976193657954" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/RpY9-rekHGI/AAAAAAAAABE/iHIfFTmcl1Q/s320/bukit+kiara.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. Watching a great movie and laughing about it after.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. Coming out of a cyber cafe and laughing about how you shot and how you got shot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. Hearing someone say, "I love you", to you before falling asleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Trying your for something and not worrying about the result.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Playing basketball with your close friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Everyone who played the basketball game staying at your house for the night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. Staying out till 5.30am with friends from a gang called "The blowjobs".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. Laughing at the look on people's faces when you just did something they said was impossible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. Going after that dream you've had since you were 4.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. Laughing so damn hard you start tearing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just a few examples of what happiness is. Notice how simple they are? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Its the simplest things that make us smile.. Wonderful isn't it?&lt;/div&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/523466910026070957-8539692351545611555?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/8539692351545611555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=8539692351545611555' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/8539692351545611555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/8539692351545611555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2007/07/happiness-is.html' title='Happiness is...'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/RpY9-rekHGI/AAAAAAAAABE/iHIfFTmcl1Q/s72-c/bukit+kiara.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-8684690257299076169</id><published>2007-06-28T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T05:25:08.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rude awakening</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/RoT50ZPveOI/AAAAAAAAAAk/iBvsIdonw0M/s1600-h/CIMG3477.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081460958106188002" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/RoT50ZPveOI/AAAAAAAAAAk/iBvsIdonw0M/s320/CIMG3477.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/RoT505PvePI/AAAAAAAAAAs/1JRJSxSTE_s/s1600-h/DSCF7141.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081460966696122610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/RoT505PvePI/AAAAAAAAAAs/1JRJSxSTE_s/s320/DSCF7141.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/RoT51ZPveQI/AAAAAAAAAA0/k4toKMqZYpc/s1600-h/pic+15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081460975286057218" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/RoT51ZPveQI/AAAAAAAAAA0/k4toKMqZYpc/s320/pic+15.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/RoT51pPveRI/AAAAAAAAAA8/ptGV4amtD4I/s1600-h/pic+46.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081460979581024530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/RoT51pPveRI/AAAAAAAAAA8/ptGV4amtD4I/s320/pic+46.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know that feeling you get.. Obviously not. Picture being half asleep for the past one and a half years of you life. Thats exactly how i feel.. And it took something pretty big to wake me up... Well, i'm awake now. And I realize that theres so much that i've missed out on. I feel like I've led a relatively unproductive life as compared to many people I look up to. So it starts now. It's time to get my head back in the game. Im not saying that I cant have fun, fun is extremely productive, hahaha, but what I really need to do right now is to focus on things that really matter. Things that are important to me.&lt;br /&gt;I bet you're thinking.. DAMN EMO!! Right? Yeah well try going through what I did.. sigh..&lt;br /&gt;On a more cheerful note, I leave you with pics from my prom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-8684690257299076169?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/8684690257299076169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=8684690257299076169' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/8684690257299076169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/8684690257299076169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2007/06/rude-awakening.html' title='Rude awakening'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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/_ejS7e8AiyKQ/RoT50ZPveOI/AAAAAAAAAAk/iBvsIdonw0M/s72-c/CIMG3477.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-6282453559308132128</id><published>2007-05-18T05:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T06:03:44.894-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its been a while.</title><content type='html'>Wow, it has really been a while.. Well i haven't had the time because so much has been happening. My bloody A levels started.. scary... Next week is going to be hell.. I have a maths paper, physics and chemistry practicals, and to top it off, a physics structure paper.. The only thing good about all this shit is laying back in the evening and talking to.. Well, lets just say, my angel. Sigh.. It's sad though..  How no matter how much you miss someone they won't just suddenly appear in front of you. After the  exams, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; going nuts.. i swear.. party party party, swim swim swim, sleep, swim party, sleep repeat.. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;.. I CANT WAIT!!! But until then, i shall work my ass off and try my best. Speaking of which, sad as it may sound, i have to get to work..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned till next week's episode..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-6282453559308132128?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/6282453559308132128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=6282453559308132128' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/6282453559308132128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/6282453559308132128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2007/05/its-been-while.html' title='Its been a while.'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-6582052865368346284</id><published>2007-04-27T10:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-27T10:34:28.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WOW</title><content type='html'>Ahh what a day. A2 maths is so fucking annoying... And then, the party. That was pretty fun. Found out that i wasen't too bad when it came to dancing hehe. I guess it runs in the family, dad is a kick-ass dancer(NO PUN INTENDED). After that we had SUPPER. It was 11 by then. I was feeling extra sleepy when I got into my car. Just before cheras, I saw lightning pierce the night sky and felt the roar of thunder resonate in my chest(yes, very dramatic, i know). Driving slowly listening to oldies and just thinking about stuff can be extremely relaxing. Naturally, somebody or SOMEONE I didn't want to think about popped into my head. I thought about the 11th of april and how i'd never forget that day. A familiar feeling I always tried my best to surpress grew in me. WHY?!ARGH! (indigestion) hahaha, at least thats wat i want you to believe. All in all, a pretty kick-ass day.. ESPECIALLY the bhangra.. damn cool man..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-6582052865368346284?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/6582052865368346284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=6582052865368346284' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/6582052865368346284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/6582052865368346284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2007/04/wow.html' title='WOW'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-3616414902993112946</id><published>2007-04-22T06:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-22T06:46:50.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Indians and pakis.. What we should accept to live in harmony...</title><content type='html'>007 says:&lt;br /&gt;haha&lt;br /&gt;007 says:&lt;br /&gt;ure paki but&lt;br /&gt;007 says:&lt;br /&gt;tomeyto, tomahto&lt;br /&gt;r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " says:&lt;br /&gt;exactly&lt;br /&gt;r a s h a a d." chronicInadequacy " says:&lt;br /&gt;hahahaha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-3616414902993112946?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/3616414902993112946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=3616414902993112946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/3616414902993112946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/3616414902993112946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2007/04/indians-and-pakis-what-we-should-accept.html' title='Indians and pakis.. What we should accept to live in harmony...'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-4807911883962064034</id><published>2007-04-22T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-22T06:45:39.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bali</title><content type='html'>BALI WAS BLOODY &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;AWSOME&lt;/span&gt;!! Of course there weren't many chicks because of the bombings but hey, the prices for stuff went down! Okay, not funny.. I bought so much stuff, it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;awsome&lt;/span&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Sunglasses&lt;br /&gt;2. Reebok shirt&lt;br /&gt;3. Q&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;uiksilver&lt;/span&gt; shirt&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ripcurl&lt;/span&gt; shirt&lt;br /&gt;5. Leather bag for my books&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so on..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and i went &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;para sailing&lt;/span&gt;,. It was pretty cool but lets just say that its not advisable to go if you have balls..My dad took me to a bar and it had exotic dancers.. i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;didnt&lt;/span&gt; give a damn, honestly. I was too busy trying to watch the Man U Roma match and she was blocking my way dancing on the bar. Stupid woman.&lt;br /&gt;All in all, a pretty good trip..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-4807911883962064034?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/4807911883962064034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=4807911883962064034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/4807911883962064034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/4807911883962064034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2007/04/bali.html' title='Bali'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-6412669851772246501</id><published>2007-04-17T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T09:43:07.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a day</title><content type='html'>DAMNIT! I had to wake up at 9 today... i feel like i wasted sleeping time.. BALI!!!WOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! Swimming was pretty okay...afew push ups and situps.. then we played 'SOCCER' haha ISKL people.. tsk tsk... its football!!! That was pretty fun, until i got run into by some 6 foot gorilla from texas...HE'S HUGE!!! He sent me crashing into the pillar which was luckily padded...That school really does think of everything! Thats probably why they charge so much...After that, the rain subsided so we went to the pool. I could feel my stamina come back to me after 2 whole weeks of no swimming at all. Its about bloody time though because there's a competition coming up. At the end we were supposed to do 50m fast so i chose butterfly, and i got a louzy 31.66. Oh well, i still have time. Its getting pretty late, i think i'll get to sleep now, i have to wake up early for my flight. MORE wasted sleep.. perfect...&lt;br /&gt;Oh and the prince misses the princess.. Her smile, her laugh the way her hair smells after a shower, EVERYTHING(story to be continued....)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-6412669851772246501?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/6412669851772246501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=6412669851772246501' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/6412669851772246501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/6412669851772246501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2007/04/what-day.html' title='What a day'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-523466910026070957.post-416722898335254683</id><published>2007-04-15T08:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T09:06:38.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My very first blog...</title><content type='html'>The last time i tried starting up a blog, i only posted something ONCE.. hopefully, it goes better this time..haha.. Ahhh.. holidays.. To not have to touch a book is absolute bliss and im enjoying every moment of it. Living the life while people whom i shall refrain from mentioning,(RASHAAD!!!) have their exams.. HAHA...Cant wait to go to Bali... Just me, the beach , and hundreds upon hundreds of women in bikinis. I'll wake up in the morning, walk my sleepy ass to the beach, get one of those beach chairs, sit down and drink from a coconut they charge people 6 dollars for just because it has a friggin 2 cents miniature umbrella on it, and watch the sun rise. But until then, i rot at home...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/523466910026070957-416722898335254683?l=fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/feeds/416722898335254683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=523466910026070957&amp;postID=416722898335254683' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/416722898335254683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/523466910026070957/posts/default/416722898335254683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluffy-humpkins.blogspot.com/2007/04/my-very-first-blog.html' title='My very first blog...'/><author><name>Thought Factory</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14261304572125974675</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><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
