less friends; more acquaintances.
 
   Disclaimer: the current page
  is atrociously coded, works for MSIE 6 & NSN 7.2 so far.
  Better not try Opera, I puked when I did.
  Miraculously enough, Mozilla
  Firefox kinda works too, phew.
  BUT. Not very well of course.
  NSN & MF can't see the Jscript
  navigation I put up, too bad ;p
  (In midst of upgrading, keep looking. Working on a table-less 100% CSS layout now, not this TABLE TR TD bullshit that can't even be cross-browser compat.)
Who's blogging, you ask?
kein.
- pronounced KAY-n.
- not to be confused with kelvin.
- the B's: basketball & books.
- singing, photography, movies.
 
the poook.
- The once in a blue moon contributor
 
ReL
- kein's sis.
- yet another once-in-a-blue-moon blogger.
- more to come eventually?
 
Listening to:
Mayday 五月天 -
 
 
iam tandem - an old story.
read it, download it here.
 
rainingberry auctions, lotsa stuff for sale. check it out! :O
 
brother sketch's niche ;)
 
the leongster's shots.
 
estee's dreams.
 
the recluse's pixels.
 
khelath's boredom.
 
cher's recipes 'n such.
 
maddox's best page in the universe.
 
rich burlew's OOTS comic strips, thrice a week!

CCNA stuff

Recent rants

Powered by Blogger Who Links Here a small tribute here to the countless forums and sites on css i visited on Google: thanks! ;)

i still bled my brains dry and spent ten odd hours debugging the damn alignment 'tho. *makes a face*
 
 
 
 
 
 

Friday, March 25

hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

- kein, posted at 10:58 PM.

Googled the term, and it turns out that the original quote was from the closing line of Act III of William Congreve's The Mourning Bride, first produced in 1697, and actually went like this:

Heav'n has no rage like love to hatred turn'd
Nor Hell a fury, like a woman scorn'd.


Not that it matters here :) I was just plain bored and curious about the original form of the phrase.

Females, IMO are highly strung emotional creatures, especially during that time of the month. They can be talking sweetly one moment and be breathing fire and brimstone the next instant, feeling slighted on the slightest remark and raising hell on you over it.

Yessir, it's shit city, and like most other guys you haven't the slightest fcukin' idea why you're here in the first place at all; the most important thing's to get out of it, regardless of the means used. Welcome to reality :)

The best solution? Sometimes I believe that there's no solution at all, and that the best way to solve trouble is to avoid it entirely; I've learnt that a good way to do so would be to keep my bloody mouth shut most of the time. Talking only serves to feed the fire, brrr.

*raises hand* I'm among the abovementioned group of insensitive spastic guys BTW :) Take note that it's just a general admission of guilt, not that I've had any upclose and personal experiences recently, laugh. Not that I'm trying to be a understanding SNAG to the ladies anyway, definitely goes against my principles. I've really been caged up either at home or the office these days, definitely no girl trouble :)

As the days pass, it's been observed that the old lady at home (i.e. my mother) has been subject to increasing bouts of memory loss and short reins on her temper. Goes off at the slightest issue, takes offence even when none were intended, rants and raves about our lack of concern blahblah. The only good thing's that these minor storms blow over quickly.

To me however, the best bit comes when she vehemently denies having spoken of stuff that came out of her mouth like thirty seconds ago. Wa seh. I simply had to exchange incredulous glances with ah poook to make sure that I hadn't been hallucinating and hearing things out of me imagination.

*shakes head* Poor me and poook. (Ah poook's me brother, incase you don't know.)

The two of us had a hushed council of war in my room in the evening before I came down to work. It was plain that she was getting increasingly paranoid, and both of us rolled our eyes at the thought of her reactions like five years down the road.

She wasn't really wrong about the lack of concern though. The two of us had taken for granted that the family generally lacked cohesion, and went about our daily shit like near-total strangers. Parents didn't question about our affairs, and we didn't bother ourselves too much with theirs. There simply wasn't warmth in the family, and a sense of belonging was definitely lacking. The home simply was a place to come back to when the end of the day drew to a close. Place to eat, shit, sleep, bath, rot, period.

"I don't think there was ever any love between them lor, more like tolerance to me."

That was poook's conclusion. I'd jokingly asked him then.

"Sad to realise that you're not really a product of love right?"

He shrugged it off nonchalantly.

It sorta surprised me, but he had the same wish I had too; to instill into our own future families the feeling of togetherness that was missing in the present one.

Well.. if we do get hitched in the future that is :)

I hadn't credited him with that much maturity, but hey he's almost eighteen this year, as good an age to recognise him as a young adult as any other.

Time passes, how frail humans become.

Time passes, and indeed surprising how quickly humans step into maturity too :)