Mid Sem Break - Day 2 / Saturday, September 26, 2009
On this particular day, I spent it at UNSW. Nothing too spectacular happened, and nothing noteworthy worth posting WHATSOEVER!
I mean, I was SO disappointed!
So, as I was leaving uni, feeling dejected, out of nowhere, I felt someone lunge onto me from behind! Imagine my surprise!
Totally poleaxed, I was like, "wha-?!" and then I heard his uniquely handsome, slightly nasal yet timbre-rich voice say, "Hiii CaaaAAaaAaamMmM!!"
Turns out, it was Terry! I swear it was like the highlight of my day! It was, dare I say it, LEGENDARY!
It made my day. =)
Let's go out on Tuxedo night again ;)
Labels: humour
/because of my high tolerance.
6:38:00 PM
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For what its worth - Henry Budd on cutting lunch / Tuesday, September 15, 2009
"I needed to spice things up a bit. Spice it up in a way that your chilli basil stir fry just can't."
Dear lunchtime Thai takeaway,
I've been meaning to tell you this for some time but I don't know where to begin, so I will just come out with it: I've been seeing other people.
There, I've said it.
I'm sorry, but our relationship has lost its spark. It's true.
When our romance began I couldn't stop thinking about you.
Those hot curries and succulent stir fries had me sneaking out of work as soon as I could get away each day and into your welcoming arms.
When I left I couldn't get you out of my mind.
I told all my friends bout how special you were.
Then you became friends with my friends, which makes this break-up all the more difficult.
But our daily lunchtime dalliances have become few and far between. Sure, there's still the odd lunchtime booty call but I'm left emotionally hollow afterwards.
You never want to talk about things afterwards, its just all about the money.
But I'm not looking to blame anyone.
If anything, its not you, its me.
I felt stuck in a rut and now I'm looking for something else.
I needed to spice things up a bit. Spice it up in a way that your chilli basil stir-fry just can't.
I'm the same every time with you - massaman, stir-fry, or noodles. Sure there's the option of chicken, beef or seafood, but even that's getting old now.
And I've had better. That's right, better.
Your pad thai is all noddles, no chicken. I know when you're going through the motions - faking it - call it what you want.
You're not going to like hearing this, but now that I've started I have to tell you everything - I've been a bit of a man-whore lately.
It started with just a steak at the pub on a Friday.
Yes I was drinking, but that's no excuse.
I can't explain why I did it, but I did and now I'm not sure I feel the same way about you.
Then that good-looking Vietnamnese pho shop with the makeover caught my eye and lured me with the sweet perfume of mi goreng.
Then it was that trendy fish and chip shop I dated a couple of times before I met you.
I'd forgotten why I liked it so much.
I even dated your neighbour the sushi shop a couple of times before stooping even lower these past few weeks with the occasional trip for fried chicken. I even tried the Golden Arches when it tarted itself up and tried to go classy. Angus burger, who could resist?
I know you'll be angry, but please, don't act like you havn't being giving it to everybody else. You're hardly on the moral high ground here.
I'm sorry things had to end this way and I hope we can be friends.
Your former lunchtime flame,
Henry.
PS: Oh, and to my old coffee shop I went steady with for 2 years, I'm getting my fix from the cafe around the corner now.
Sorry, but you let yourself go. This time it's not me, it's you.
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LOL, got it from the mx today. It was hilarious. Thought I'd share it with you. XD
Labels: humour, literature
/because of my high tolerance.
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農夫啲歌 makes me smile XD / Thursday, June 18, 2009
第一次擘大眼睇個世界嗰時
Daddy媽咪話做人唔容易
第一次學行跌左唔止一次
學123去到學ABC
啲考試每次都臨急至溫書
啲同學每個都曾經暗戀Missy
嗰時仲未知粒粒皆辛苦係一回乜嘢事
啲功課一係就抄一係唔交
Miss一係就鬧一係唔教
讀書為左識字為左沙紙定係為左我老媽子
嗰晚 放榜前一晚 三點三十分都未訓
聽日有三分定係有十分
淨係知道有不同嘅學歷 有不同嘅人生 諗
攬住個枕頭 諗
揸住呢個分數 點樣面對老豆
即刻捐入被竇 冚 大被冚過頭
原來諗得多過頭
十九轉眼變左廿九
髮線開始向後 準備三十出頭
浮浮沉沉嚟冇份工做得長久
尋尋覓覓嘅女朋友終於分手
好多新朋友 喺街頭重遇舊朋友 唔知點樣問候
收到新朋友嘅喜訊
轉個頭 收到舊朋友嘅死訊
人生無常從來唔係幾信
一啖一啖酒灌落心頭
聽朝又八點九
一步一步走嘅一個一個年頭
為左走去盡頭
一粒一粒都係辛苦嘅 嗰日終於接受
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幾千里長路, 天天有難度...
農夫啲歌 makes me smile XDLabels: humour, literature, school, thoughts
/because of my high tolerance.
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Iron Man vs Bruce Lee / Sunday, June 14, 2009
14/6/09
Labels: humour, videos
/because of my high tolerance.
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Do you want to hear a story? =) / Sunday, April 26, 2009
Labels: humour
/because of my high tolerance.
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History of Pharmacology / Monday, April 20, 2009
[Found this in my Pharmacology lecture. Summarised for the layman]
2000 B.C - "Here, eat this root."
1000 - "That root is heathen, say this prayer instead."
1850 - "That prayer is superstition, drink this herbal medication."
1940 - "That herbal medication is snake oil, use this synthetic compound."
1985 - "That compound has too many unspecific side effects. Here, take this novel, tiny receptor-isoform specific patented compound. Oh, and pay us heaps."
2009 - "That novel compound is artificial. Here, eat this root!"
Labels: humour, medicine
/because of my high tolerance.
2:50:00 PM
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Jizz In My Pants - The Lonely Island / Wednesday, April 15, 2009
I finally understood all those 'jizz in my pants' jokes 2 days ago when I finally saw the clip of it on Youtube.
Now everything makes sense now...all those times the guys would go, "I just ate a grape" and "I just opened the window and a breeze rolled in.."
Man...I'm so slow when it comes to trends on the interwebs.
That is all.
Labels: humour
/because of my high tolerance.
1:35:00 PM
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Hores / Friday, January 16, 2009
You know the sad thing is that this kid probably writes neater than I do...
Labels: humour
/because of my high tolerance.
10:39:00 AM
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Getting Owned. / Wednesday, January 7, 2009
So yesterday I was at Circular Quay with the boys after hours of gruelling basketball (of which I totally sucked at...sooo godamn rusty!). What happened was as we do, we went to Maccas straight after to eat, but because it was so packed and hot, we decided to eat in the foodcourt next door.
Right outside Maccas, I spotted this shiny 50cent coin on the ground, and I was like "OOhh!! Shotgun biiaatches!" and I pounced on the coin.
To my utter dismay and humiliation, the coin was superglued to the ground.
I got so pwned.
Labels: holidays, humour, sport
/because of my high tolerance.
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Hotmail Joke / Saturday, December 27, 2008
So I was on msn and I looked at Henry's pmsg:
"I once tried to change my hotmail password to "penis", but the system told me it was too short. =("I genuinely thought it was funny, crude yet witty in this technological age. Penis jokes - right up there with Your mum jokes.
Labels: humour
/because of my high tolerance.
7:57:00 PM
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Pathology in the Hundred Acre Wood: a neurodevelopmental perspective on A.A. Milne / Saturday, April 19, 2008
Abstract
Somewhere at the top of the Hundred Acre Wood a little boy and his bear play. On the surface it is an innocent world, but on closer examination by our group of experts we find a forest where neurodevelopmental and psychosocial problems go unrecognized and untreated.
On the surface it is an innocent world: Christopher Robin, living
in a beautiful forest surrounded by his loyal animal friends.
Generations of readers of A.A. Milne's Winnie-the-Pooh stories
have enjoyed these seemingly benign tales.
1,2 However, perspectives
change with time, and it is clear to our group of modern neurodevelopmentalists
that these are in fact stories of Seriously Troubled Individuals,
many of whom meet DSM-IV
3 criteria for significant disorders
. We have done an exhaustive review of the works of
A.A. Milne and offer our conclusions about the inhabitants of
the Hundred Acre Wood in hopes that our observations will help
the medical community understand that there is a Dark Underside
to this world.
We begin with Pooh. This unfortunate bear embodies the concept
of comorbidity. Most striking is his Attention Deficit Hyperactivity
Disorder (ADHD), inattentive subtype. As clinicians, we had
some debate about whether Pooh might also demonstrate significant
impulsivity, as witnessed, for example, by his poorly thought
out attempt to get honey by disguising himself as a rain cloud.
We concluded, however, that this reflected more on his comorbid
cognitive impairment, further aggravated by an obsessive fixation
on honey. The latter, of course, has also contributed to his
significant obesity. Pooh's perseveration on food and his repetitive
counting behaviours raise the diagnostic possibility of Obsessive
Compulsive Disorder (OCD). Given his coexisting ADHD and OCD,
we question whether Pooh may over time present with Tourette's
syndrome. Pooh is also clearly described as having Very Little
Brain. We could not confidently diagnose microcephaly, however,
as we do not know whether standards exist for the head circumference
of the brown bear. The cause of Pooh's poor brain growth may
be found in the stories themselves. Early on we see Pooh being
dragged downstairs bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head.
Could his later cognitive struggles be the result of a type
of Shaken Bear Syndrome?
Pooh needs intervention. We feel drugs are in order. We cannot but wonder how much richer Pooh's life might be were he to have a trial of low-dose stimulant medication. With the right supports, including methylphenidate, Pooh might be fitter and more functional and perhaps produce (and remember) more poems.
I take a PILL-tiddley pom It keeps me STILL-tiddley pom, It keeps me STILL-tiddley pom Not fiddling.
And what of little Piglet? Poor, anxious, blushing, flustered little Piglet. He clearly suffers from a Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Had he been appropriately assessed and his condition diagnosed when he was young, he might have been placed on an antipanic agent, such as paroxetine, and been saved from the emotional trauma he experienced while attempting to trap heffalumps.
Pooh and Piglet are at risk for additional self-esteem injury because of the chronic dysthymia of their neighbour, Eeyore. What a sad life that donkey lives. We do not have sufficient history to diagnose this as an inherited, endogenous depression or to know whether some early trauma contributed to his chronic negativism, low energy and anhe(haw)donia. Eeyore would benefit greatly from an antidepressant, perhaps combined with individual therapy. Maybe with a little fluoxetine, Eeyore might see the humour in the whole tail-losing episode. Even if a patch of St. John's wort grew near his thistles, the forest could ring with a braying laugh.
Our neurodevelopmental group agrees about poor Owl: obviously bright, but dyslexic. His poignant attempts to cover up for his phonological deficits are similar to what we see day in and day out in others so afflicted. If only his condition had been identified early and he received more intensive support!
We especially worry about baby Roo. It is not his impulsivity or hyperactivity that concerns us, as we feel that those are probably age appropriate. We worry about the environment in which he is developing. Roo is growing up in a single-parent household, which puts him at high risk for Poorer Outcome. We predict we will someday see a delinquent, jaded, adolescent Roo hanging out late at night at the top of the forest, the ground littered with broken bottles of extract of malt and the butts of smoked thistles. We think that this will be Roo's reality, in part because of a second issue. Roo's closest friend is Tigger, who is not a good Role Model. Peer influences strongly affect outcome.
We acknowledge that Tigger is gregarious and affectionate, but he has a recurrent pattern of risk-taking behaviours. Look, for example, at his impulsive sampling of unknown substances when he first comes to the Hundred Acre Wood. With the mildest of provocation he tries honey, haycorns and even thistles. Tigger has no knowledge of the potential outcome of his experimentation. Later we find him climbing tall trees and acting in a way that can only be described as socially intrusive. He leads Roo into danger. Our clinical group has had its own debate about what the best medication might be for Tigger. Some of us have argued that his behaviours, occurring in a context of obvious hyperactivity and impulsivity, would suggest the need for a stimulant medication. Others have wondered whether clonidine might be helpful, or perhaps a combination of the two. Unfortunately we could not answer the question as scientifically as we would have liked because we could find only human studies in the literature.
Even if we were able to help Tigger, we would still have the problem of Roo's growing up with a single parent. Kanga is noted to be somewhat overprotective. Could her possessiveness of Roo relate to a previous run-in with social services? And where will Kanga be in the future? It is highly likely that she will end up older, blowsier, struggling to look after several joeys conceived in casual relationships with different fathers, stuck at a dead end with inadequate financial resources. But perhaps we are being too gloomy. Kanga may prove to be one of those exceptional single mothers who show a natural resilience — an ability, if we may say so, to bounce back. Maybe Kanga will pass her high school equivalency test, earn a university degree and maybe even get an MBA. Perhaps some day Kanga will buy the Hundred Acre Wood and develop it into a gated community of $500 000 homes. But that is not likely to happen, particularly in a social context that does not appear to value education and provides no strong female leadership.
What leadership there is in the Hundred Acre Wood is simply that offered by one small boy, Christopher Robin. Our group believes that Christopher Robin has not exhibited any diagnosable condition as yet, but we are concerned about several issues. There is the obvious problem of a complete absence of parental supervision, not to mention the fact that this child is spending his time talking to animals. We also noted in the stories early signs of difficulty with academics and felt that E.H. Shepard's illustrations suggest possible future gender identity issues for this child. The more psychoanalytical member in our group indicated that there could be some Freudian meaning to his peculiar naming of his bear as Winnie-the-Pooh.
Finally, we turn to Rabbit. We note his tendency to be extraordinarily self-important and his odd belief system that he has a great many relations (many of other species!) and friends. He seems to have an overriding need to organize others, often against their will, into new groupings, with himself always at the top of the reporting structure. We believe that he has missed his calling, as he clearly belongs in senior-level hospital administration.
Somewhere at the top of the forest a little boy and his bear
play. Sadly, the forest is not, in fact, a place of enchantment,
but rather one of disenchantment, where neurodevelopmental and
psychosocial problems go unrecognized and untreated. It is unfortunate
that an Expotition was never Organdized to a Child Development
Clinic.
--
Original link: http://www.ecmaj.com/cgi/content/full/163/12/1557
Labels: humour, literature, medicine
/because of my high tolerance.
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