very tiring day...p.e so boring..expecting something like run 3 rounds or wad..den in the end do some stuupid exercises..my back was aching real badly...then mr harrie said why i nrv come..could hab played in the 10-0 trashing match..so sad..but my back really hurted...tml there's soccer training..muz go..real tired...after school gt maths remedial...though i didnt wanna go..i was so glad i could work out MOST of the sums...nxt time dunno can ask stef liao..haha...yay!lol...den after remedial went to great world...idiot..so slow..haven recieve the infinity on high...i bussed to orchard...walk to hereen..den go HMV!!TA DAH!!!there it was..resting on the shelves...it totally rocked!then bus home...my dad till now still haven buy FOB concert ticket...later out of stock i cry sia...please daddy jesus...i really wanna go to the concert!!!rock the house...den reached home..my 3 aunt was in the house..they made curtains for me...they came frm malaysia...things have been much more interesting with them here...and i'm constantly slacking..after came home..i went to run around the neighbourhood till very tired..then go back eat a bit..den go play soccer...i practice chipping...but the f***er nvr buy ball..so too bad...no way to practice dat unless soccer only...

Carpal Tunnel of Love
We take sour sips from life's lush lipsAnd we shake, shake, shake the hips in relationshipsStomp out this disaster townYou'll put your eyes to the sun and say, "I know you're only blinding to keep back what the clouds are hiding."
And we might've started singing just a little soonWe're throwing stones at a glass moon
Whoa oh, we're so miserable and stunningWhoa oh, love songs for the genuinely cunning, whoa-oh
We keep the beat with your blistered feetAnd we bullet the words at the mockingbirds singingSlept through the weekend and dreamingOf sinking with the melody of the cliffs of eternityGot postcards from my former selves saying: "How've you been?"
We might've said goodbyes just a little soon(Stomp out this disaster town)Robbing lips, kissing banks under this moon
Whoa oh, we're so miserable and stunningWhoa oh, love songs for the genuinely cunningWhoa oh, we're so miserable and stunningWhoa oh, love songs for the genuinely cunning, ohh…
It was ice cream headaches and sweet avalancheWhen the pearls in our shells got up to danceYou call me a bad tipper of the cradleTired yawns for fawns on hunter's lawnsWe're the has-beens of husbandsSharpening the knives of young wivesTake two years and call me when you're betterTake teardrops of mine, find yourself wetter
Whoa oh, we're so miserable and stunningWhoa oh, love songs for the genuinely cunningWhoa oh, we're so miserable and stunningWhoa oh, love songs for the genuinely cunning