Ever since then I began my life here, in the UK…. and there’s so much things that I will miss so very very much…

I’m gonna miss my colourful Chemistry (above) and Physics (dumped D=) notes.

I’m certainly gonna miss Chestnut Grove (one of the roads I jogged on every weekends).

I’m certainly gonna miss Chapel View (road).

I’m certainly gonna miss the grocery store along Chapel View

I’m certainly gonna miss the house where I stayed for the pass 18 months.

I’m certainly gonna miss my £103-per-week-rent room.

I’m certainly gonna miss the house theatre room.

I’m certainly gonna miss the table where the housemates and I used to dine.

I’m certainly gonna miss her (host)….

…and him (housemate)… the other housemate left already.

I’m certainly gonna miss Ballards Way, the road I walked to my bus stop to school.

Yes, I’m certainly gonna miss my bus stops.

And yes again, I’m certainly gonna miss Bus 64 and Bus T33.

I’m certainly gonna miss the moment inside the bus.

I’m certainly gonna miss Water Tower Hill.

I’m certainly gonna miss the college canteen.

I’m certainly gonna miss the computer lab.

I’m certainly gonna miss the library.

I’m certainly gonna miss my classes.

I’m certainly gonna miss Cambridge Tutors College.

I’m certainly gonna miss the 3 people who I won’t be seeing in London:-

Amylia (heading to Malaysia IMU)

Tian Ying (heading to Warwick Uni)

Kien (heading to Cambridge Uni) (the bastard outwitted everyone in college)

I’m certainly gonna miss the people who I’ve been through in the pass 18 months.

I’m certainly gonna miss Croydon, the place where I began my life here.

Pictures coming. Will be editted.

That is the house I’m living in at the moment.

Nothing interesting has been going on . I still got exams this coming Wednesday, whilst my collegemates happily gallivant around central Croydon, enjoying the big sales that are happening around the country.

Anyway, something minor happened in London today. (No terrorist bomb treat, I’m afraid)

Oh wait, before I proceed on, there was this bald boisterous-looking British standing right behind me, queuing to get the train ticket to London. He later took out his phone and called someone and threatened to give the person he’s on the phone with a death roll. This is what ensued.

Baldie: “Oh f**k you mate, where the f**k are you?….. Why do you f**king care?!? No your girlfriend’s a bitch, so is your mom… Don’t threatened me mate, cause you know what? I’m gonna f**king kill you, that’s right, I’ll f**king come right over and kill you, and when I’m done killing you, I’m gonna strap your girlfriend on the bed, and I’m gonna f**k her, you hear me?!? I’m gonna f**k her, and then I’ll shoved up a few needles up her pussy…… oh you think I’m afraid of you, eh? We’ll then f**king see, come on mate, I know you better, you’re a f**king coward, your girlfriend’s a f**king bitch…..”

Most of the time, I usually persevere myself not to be bothered. But what’s really annoying me this time is that this cursing has been there for at least 10 minutes, and the baldie was just behind me. Well, at the same time, I still wanted to laugh.

I was in Oxford Circus this afternoon, browsing through the shops to looking for decent clothings and books at a ridiculously discounted prices.

Meanwhile, I tumbled upon a few angry feminists ragingly protesting in front of a small shop called Playboy (I’m not sure what’s being sold inside, but I’m pretty sure they’re sweet sexy lingeries), saying the shop deteriorates female integrity.

The demonstration had put a major impact on the shop, losing much of its customers on the day since many of the pedestrians feared the protesters. With the additional pressure by the incoming recession which is expected to happen this year in the whole of UK, people who entered the shop were so gratefully treated by the employees. I guess they were even given the privilege to buy accessories at a charmingly cheap price.

Don’t get me wrong, the bitches I meant are those who protested in front of Playboy. London protest can sometimes be annoying.

 I’m absolutely bored. Here’s a picture of my usual morning hair.

I kinda like it actually.

Something for the pleasure. Masturbate if you wish and I’ll laugh at your severe stupidity. (Pictures taken from a restaurant)

And the ladies toilet. (NOTE: I asked my girl friend to take the photo. I did not have the intention, unwillingly and knowingly, to enter the ladies bathroom)

It explains why the myriad customers every night. Food sucks to be honest, although it is cheap.

I just love honest annoyed people.

Went down to Croydon to meet this 2 seniors of mine first before meeting up Hana and Vicky in London.

@Hilary – I do apologize if you grinned your own ulna when I said your teeth were crooked. They weren’t.

Pleasure as usual meeting you guys.

Later that, I met Vicky in London and we ended up in South Kensington Natural Historic Museum.

A fine European elegance. Admission is absolutely free throughout the year. And since it is free, do not expect much, but the time visiting was worthy.

This brute is fucking colossal. Reminds me the Brute of the Halo series in a way.

And check out the radius of the tree. According from the museum, it’s approximately 1 millennium old.

I love creativity in arts…

…with addition of hardwork and dexterity to form this masterpiece.

We got out from the museum and went to another one(forgot the name) and I found this…

Halo… take not that there’s no string to help it suspend in air. A marvelous mechanical work.

After much exhaustion from running around the museum, we went to Harrods where we met Hana, who we promised to get her KrispyKreme doughnuts.

I bought myself these.

I forgot what they’re called, it’s a sumptuous recipe of the French Ladurea Restaurant. Pretty expensive, cost you £6 per 100grammes.

Hana’s expression during her first try of KrispyKreme.

It was pleasure meeting you two, too.

Mahh £1.20 apple pie and I had it as dessert. Was suppose to share with my Russian housemate but he decided not to have it.

How was I suppose to finish that colossal portion?!? Moreover, I have a sense of manner not to waste a single rice on the plate and therefore implies I’m a person who hates wasting food because I solely believe in Karma. I’m one who is unwilling to live as a beggar in my next life.

I tried my best to finish it as much as I can and it was difficult, especially when you just had roughly 0.5kg of grilled salmon meat in your stomach not fully digested. But hell, the sour taste of green apple made the whole eating process harder. The moment I placed a small chunk of pie on my tongue, my taste buds retaliated. Eating the pie was like asking Hercules to eat a 5 metres long Greek temple portico.

At the end, this is all that’s left. I know it’s a waste, but my stomach simply couldn’t take it anymore.

Use a mirror to read the reflection of the title if you have problem coordinating and interpreting it. (Which I believe all you readers won’t have it! Even my host’s dog can read it…)

Let me introduce you Amylia Kesha Bal – lovely girl, extremely intelligent, has a penchant for crayons, hysterical when high, gorgeous to the 10th degree, sexy at its maximum, exquisite body shape she has, simply irresistible. One of the few highly-valuable young ladies that you boys… wouldn’t wanna miss the chance to be with to have a most passionate and pleasurable night.

Was that too flattering?? Or was it too much compliments on her sexiness? Sorry to disappoint the Casanovas, but I’m not gonna talk more about her.

However, there is one thing I wanna point out about her. On her dark side, Amy is a ferocious, aggressive, hostile, savage and extremely fierce philistine.

While we were in the college library, I was excruciated, tortured and molested before I agreed to take a picture with her until she decided to circumcise me if I disagree one more time. Even a cavemen who are capable of bringing down a mammoth with his bare arms would do anything to protect his precious manhood.

So I finally agreed… to take this pathetically awful picture.

Lame isn’t it?!? Bloody hell! Now everyone’s gonna see me as a lame person.

And during my slavery…..

…. she left me a scratch-mark. It’s there damn it! Don’t pretend it isn’t! Amy, you’re gonna bloody pay my hospital bill.

Merde = French word for ’shit’

Out of discussion: – The above were mostly exaggerated, especially Amylia’s personality. She’s a lovely woman, drop-dead sexy or not depends on what you think. The picture displaying ‘ Merde happens’ is actually a photo of the book titled Merde Happens by Stephen Clarke.

Not a bad book, I would say. I love it because it has some exotic contents . Perfect enough for me to read it. And it actually has some French words in all pages and the author will tell you what the meanings are. Pretty good for basic French learners (-pointing at you, Charlie! )