<?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-5537707009109577117</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:20:47.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Recollections.</title><subtitle type='html'>the ups and downs of my life. as told by them.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5537707009109577117/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>BW.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10163703675037404256</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>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5537707009109577117.post-3802578176444550660</id><published>2009-05-17T04:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T04:35:49.072-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Blood.</title><content type='html'>Fastforwarded to life in secondary 2. IT Lessons. It has always been a lesson everyone looks forward to. Computers during school, Aircondition and Fun. What more can we even ask for. However like all other subjects, a test was due to test the understanding we have for it, yaddayaddayadda. IMO - more like to test if the teacher is doing their job nt. haha. So as i was saying, we had this IT test. It was project based. So we had an option to either fly solo or find ur own team to work with. If you have followed my previous posts i wasn't exactly a HUGE FAN of working with BW for i knew it would never come to any productive end at all.. Thus, I chose another friend who was much more reliable to work with. The selection was almost immediate.. I didn't waste no time, with haste, grab and settle. BW kept on insisting he wanted to join but the other fella never agreed. There he was.. all alone now. Obviously he saved some pride for himself he walked away and searched for another grp with the rest of the class.. Sadly, no one actually did want him in their group so every group he approached dismiss him politely with a LAME EXCUSE. Feeling lost, he came back seeking some solace with me and my partner. Still no room for comfort. He got rejected cold-heartedly. He swore at us and went back to his seat. That was first blood. &lt;strong&gt;BW cried.&lt;/strong&gt; No one wanted to do the proj with him..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yea yea.. obviously i gave in.. we rocked the project tgt this time round ftw. (:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yours truly, cz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5537707009109577117-3802578176444550660?l=blarewildog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/feeds/3802578176444550660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/2009/05/first-blood.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5537707009109577117/posts/default/3802578176444550660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5537707009109577117/posts/default/3802578176444550660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/2009/05/first-blood.html' title='First Blood.'/><author><name>BW.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10163703675037404256</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-5537707009109577117.post-143940371089674106</id><published>2009-05-07T04:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T04:53:54.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CCA days</title><content type='html'>This might as well be a less interesting post.. But it fits into the story somehow. It was CCA selection and we both got into the same CCA. Funny thing is, I started off HATING this whole thing.. but BW was the one convincing me to hang on to whatever we had instead of letting it go. So I did just that. A few weeks later, it went topsy turvy. He was then the one complaining that he wanted out. Likewise, I convinced him to stay. And so that was the story for our sweet 4 yrs in sch.. But thats just the beginning..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yours truly, cz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5537707009109577117-143940371089674106?l=blarewildog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/feeds/143940371089674106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/2009/05/cca-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5537707009109577117/posts/default/143940371089674106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5537707009109577117/posts/default/143940371089674106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/2009/05/cca-days.html' title='CCA days'/><author><name>BW.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10163703675037404256</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-5537707009109577117.post-4360810907989493843</id><published>2009-04-26T20:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T21:04:34.642-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Baby Steps into the Bromance.</title><content type='html'>It was when we started to get settled down in school after all the orientation and introduction that we had to go through. This was when we got to know our classmates better as well. So there were a few cuter girls in class. While we were still trying hard to remember our classmate's names, the legendary BW had other plans in mind.. One fine day, the dismissal bell rang and we were all ready to go home.. He dragged me aside. INTERCEPTED. Then he was telling me, "eh what you think of that girl? I think she's super cute! I wanna ask for her number. HOW? Will you support me!?" BW was totally cheenapok so all was said in chinese "eh ta hen mei hor. wo yao qu wen ta de hao ma leh. NI ZHI CHI WO MAAA?" HAHAH.. Then the legendary "NI ZHI CHI WO MA?" came about. Everything in the context of a sec 1 boy. And so we did.. BW stalked her to the girl's toilet and camped outside. Once she was out and refilling her waterbottle at the watercooler, he swooped down for the kill.. BW FTW! He got her number. But he cannot call her after 10pm. So MAYBE, that's where he got his habit of sleeping at 10pm everyday? or, MAYBE thats where he started setting the rule in his house where you cannot call after 10pm too. PERIOD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yours truly, cz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5537707009109577117-4360810907989493843?l=blarewildog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/feeds/4360810907989493843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/2009/04/baby-steps-into-bromance.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5537707009109577117/posts/default/4360810907989493843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5537707009109577117/posts/default/4360810907989493843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/2009/04/baby-steps-into-bromance.html' title='The Baby Steps into the Bromance.'/><author><name>BW.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10163703675037404256</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-5537707009109577117.post-8967615696414209295</id><published>2009-04-19T00:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T01:12:32.827-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The revolutionary fight.</title><content type='html'>I have to admit this, my friend and I started to get annoyed by this mysterious character i spoke of. It was almost as if he was trying too hard. At some point it got so intense I asked him, "WHY ME WHY ME WHY ME!". Something like, go torment someone else ffs! Confidently, he assured me I was just like him. Somewhat like the dynamic duo. Back then, that was the idea that BW harvested in his own mind. Little did i know the seeds were planted and the crop started to ripen. It was during chinese class. I was sitting at the back of the class and he found himself a seat right in front of me. Conveniently, that is. As i recalled, it was the last period of the day and what we were supposed to do is hand in this chinese work we were tasked to finish on the workbook before we could be dismissed. The dismissal bell rang and we were still fooling around doing our own nonsense - talking for me disturbing others for BW. We couldn't leave yet as we had not completed our work.. So I managed to beg this girl in class for her workbook to copy. BW being the "terrorist" didn't really get much help in this sector now. But there he was begging me, mind-fucking me and disturbing me for the workbook so he can copy, finish up and head home too. As I mentioned before, I was ANNOYED and fed up with him so I played my own stunts too. I wrote as fast as possible and I finished up with the work. &lt;strong&gt;FOR THE RECORD, I HANDED IN BOTH BOOKS.&lt;/strong&gt; That was the trigger. BW got into a rage. He was so mad at me for handing in the books and he had to do his own work now as no one else was willing to help him. To rub it in, I totally "naninanibooboo-ed" him. That was when his hand totally blew me away. I got swiped. Back in the days, I was hot tempered too. Of course I reacted. I charged back at him and pushed him. There he was shouting "I begged and pleaded with you so much and you just had to ignore me. I thought we were friends." Thus I countered with the classic "Since when!" Thats when we next found ourselves hurling the tables and chairs at each other. But adrenaline was pumping for the both of us. We were still walking towards each other while throwing the tables and chairs. Finally we met face to face. It was a stare down. So this was what happenned.. I was shorter so naturally I was staring up at him and obviously, he was looking down at me. Somehow, the rage all faded and we both started laughing at that scene we were in. Since that moment, it was the beginning of a tight friendship or rather - brotherhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yours truly, cz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5537707009109577117-8967615696414209295?l=blarewildog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/feeds/8967615696414209295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/2009/04/revolutionary-fight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5537707009109577117/posts/default/8967615696414209295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5537707009109577117/posts/default/8967615696414209295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/2009/04/revolutionary-fight.html' title='The revolutionary fight.'/><author><name>BW.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10163703675037404256</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-5537707009109577117.post-7644419540303759843</id><published>2009-04-17T05:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T23:29:01.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And it all begins..</title><content type='html'>So, this enthralling story goes way back into the days of secondary sch with our "infamous" BW. It was totally the first day of school. Knowing how Sec1 pupils react during orientation days, one would be imagining - boys still making faces at girls, boys being hostile to other boys, kids sticking to those that they already know and the rest classifying themselves as loners or losers and they prolly cant wait for the day to end. That would probably be the case in typical scenarios.. But typical would be an understatement of BW. &lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;He outclassed everyone and was in a league of his own. &lt;/span&gt;Myself being the typical "first-day-of-school-kid", naturally stuck to my friend whom i knew from my primary school. And where does BW come into the picture? Without wasting any time at all, this mysterious character a.k.a. BW came up to me and introduced himself during assembly. He convieniently slotted himself in between my friend and I. He was so slick in tactics that he subtly forced my friend to move backwards and change partner. So it was during orientation where he kept talking to me about how'd he conquer the world and a few of his notorious acts that build him a reputation in his primary school. Little did I know.. I trapped myself in this vortex he created.. That was how skilled BW was. Then, that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yours truly, cz&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5537707009109577117-7644419540303759843?l=blarewildog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/feeds/7644419540303759843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/2009/04/and-it-all-begins.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5537707009109577117/posts/default/7644419540303759843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5537707009109577117/posts/default/7644419540303759843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blarewildog.blogspot.com/2009/04/and-it-all-begins.html' title='And it all begins..'/><author><name>BW.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10163703675037404256</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></feed>
