<?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-313241361092631351</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:09:30.211-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Devil Inside</title><subtitle type='html'>This blog is created by an individual with too much time to waste and decided to do something productive in his life for once. This blog may contain offensive material not suited for children and even adults. Viewer's discretion advised and parental guidance is strongly recommended for adults.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313241361092631351.post-5390661238257264653</id><published>2008-09-20T23:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T23:33:50.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What I've Done</title><content type='html'>As I approach the end of my long 2-year Diploma programme, I felt a sense of relief, knowing I'm almost done with the first stage of my tertiary education. Degree will get harder, but I'll cope somehow. The funny thing about me was, I could adapt to my surroundings pretty quick despite how unfavorable the situation is to me. Like the time when I went for my China trip back in December. I somehow flabbed my way through with my limited knowledge of Mandarin. And then there's the time when I was in KTAR about 3 years ago. The majority spoke in Mandarin although the medium of communication was English. The notices posted on my Pre-U board had very comical English, which is fun to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I actually dreaded this semester out of every single one I've been through. I've probably said this countless of times, but this is the real deal. I had 3 calculative subjects and 1 subject which requires databasing knowledge. Financial Accounting was pretty much a breeze, since I had taken Accounting back in secondary school. Management Accounting on the other hand, was different. Truth be told, I never did like accounting when I took it in secondary school. I had absolutely no idea what the Debit &amp;amp; Credit rule were, or which amount/item goes into where. But thanks to my lectuerer Mr. Lai, I never dreaded it as much as I used to. He sort of rekindled my interest in accounting. Somehow this time, I feel like I can really score for these 2 subjects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's my Business Statistics. I was just average in my math, but the fact that I had to re-use formulas and terms back from my Add Math subject in school made me regurtitate a little. I admit, solving complicated equations, summations, least square lines and whatnot are fun and all. I'm actually enjoying this subject much to my chargrin. I'm weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least, Management Information Systems. Fancy word for a fancy subject. But the fact is, it's mostly basic knowledge about computers, only this time the word 'data' is key here. Sometimes class gets so boring I actually want to skip them for the entirety of the semester. There's no real depth to this subject, just lots of reading and tutorials. Plus, the lecturer's gay, so my reasons are justified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, I just want to get my Diploma done and over with. I felt so left out and slow compared to my former course mates who've already en route to completing their diplomas/degrees. Also, if possible, I wanna get the hell out of this country ASAP.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-5390661238257264653?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/5390661238257264653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=5390661238257264653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/5390661238257264653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/5390661238257264653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-ive-done.html' title='What I&apos;ve Done'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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-313241361092631351.post-694624521838129893</id><published>2008-08-30T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T11:49:36.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back into the fray</title><content type='html'>After almost 2 months of hiatus, I decided to at least try and save my poor dying blog from the brink of extinction. First of all, I apologize to those slobs waiting for me to post little tidbits to humor them. Actually, I did try to find some, but none were nifty enough to warrant a post here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, we celebrate our nation's 51st Independence Day. It has been more than half a century since we gained freedom and independence from the British. The day the Union Jack was lowered and the day we raise our very own flag. The day when thousands flocked Stadium Merdeka to bear witness to a historic event. The day our founding Father Tunku Abdul Rahman raised his hand into the air and proclaimed Merdeka at the top of his lungs infront of his people. People were overjoyed, they have their very own identity and land to call their own. Things looked promising back then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, after 51 years, Malaysia, still a developing country, has fallen into uncertainty. Even after half a century has passed, we have not matured from our backwater village mentality. The 'rakyat' has been mislead, swayed, sweet-talked by our 'dedicated' politicians and government. We show our endless support for them, yet we are being treated as scum. We are simply tools at their disposal. They do not even view us as human beings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't say this Merdeka will be a meaningful one. Events earlier this year have enraged the people nationwide. The March elections saw a devastating defeat for our coalition parties. The majority support for the Opposition this time has send a strong message, that the people want "CHANGE". Barely just 2 months ago, our petrol price has spiked to a costly RM2.70 / litre, putting the strain on wage earners and the low-income group. People already stretching their ringgit have been fucked over, turned over, and fucked again. Though a 20 cent reduction has been given to ease the rising prices, one can only hope our clever 'monkeys' in the Parliament doesn't fuck things up again and actually use their clever little brains to actually help the people who they have damned to the lowest depths of hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Budget 2009 served as a buffer, a desperate attempt by our intelligent simians to regain the people's trust in them by offering goodies in small packages. Existing sectors are getting a steady boost while those in poverty will be relieved off their sad state and be upgraded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what meaning does Merdeka hold this year? Absolutely nothing. Nil. Zilch. Zero. Kosong. Telur. I pray the rain will dampen our parade tomorrow. Maybe it could also flood and drown the people responsible for fucking us up in the first place. Yes, I'm looking at you people in the VIP section. You better bring more than just your brollies tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-694624521838129893?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/694624521838129893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=694624521838129893' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/694624521838129893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/694624521838129893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/08/back-into-fray.html' title='Back into the fray'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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-313241361092631351.post-1691426109996441609</id><published>2008-06-30T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T08:33:03.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When I'm Gone</title><content type='html'>My blogging has been scarce. I hardly even touch it ever since my semester comes to an end. I was hammered with a fuckton of workload and the only thing keeping me sane is the occasional gaming session I have in between breaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This blog will now be on hiatus until I find more time (and stuff) to devote. I'll occasionally post random stuff just so some people I KNOW won't be bugging me day and night to insult/annoy/defame people I find sickening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-1691426109996441609?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/1691426109996441609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=1691426109996441609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/1691426109996441609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/1691426109996441609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/06/when-im-gone.html' title='When I&apos;m Gone'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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-313241361092631351.post-2186867990341465365</id><published>2008-06-16T21:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-16T22:39:56.539-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My take on MGS4</title><content type='html'>It's been 5 days since I picked up my copy of MGS4 but didn't play it until 2 days later, because I was being an indecisive dick trying to decide if I should play after my exams or before. I chose the latter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Critic mode ON:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anticipating what promises to be a mind blowing game, I hurriedly booted up the game and gripped my DualShock 3 with so much eagerness. Now here's the catch. There was no install sequence. I was in a moment of joy because I didn't have to wait to start playing, but when I hit the "New Game" option, I got buttsecks-ed and was brought to an installing sequence. Not only was my joy short-lived, I had to sit there and watch Old Snake smoke on a cig while reading health warning messages and tips. I disregarded that because for a game of Kojima Productions, I'd be willing to even floss myself with glass-dusted thread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game had an excellent start-off, within minutes, I was thrown into a heated crossfire between rebels and PMCs and two-legged freaks of nature called Gekkos. Only thing was, I was mostly naked and had to dodge ever bullet and make a run for it into the next area map. Once I got my equipment, I was back to being the good 'old' Snake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The graphics were orgasmic, the sounds were deafeningly real, the environment was very alive, and the engine for the game was cataclysmic. All that even on a CRT TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However one thing that put me off was the in-between chapters. Not only do I have to install (again) the next chapter, I had to watch Old Snake smoke another butt all over again with the same bible-like messages again like "Thou shalt not play for more than 1 hour." Instead, I got off the screen for awhile and flossed myself with a glass-dusted thread while I wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like most MGS games, it prides itself on story and plot to advance. Mission briefings were conspicuously lengthy, but provided the needed details you need  for the next chapter. In-game cutscenes were a godsend and was more than enough to put most Hollywood movies to shame. At some point, I being to feel deja vu sink in, no thanks to the occasional flashbacks when O was pressed. A considerably large chunk of gameplay and dialogue was taken from the past MGS series. Like in a mission where you're thrown into a jungle somewhere in South America and asked to sneak past enemy lines. You guessed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than the stealth and FPS-like gameplay, perhaps the most fun part for me was the chase fights which provided me with the same thrill as the bike chase in MGS3. Boss fights were revamped and provided much needed fanservice and eye candy. Not that I'm complaining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suffice to say, MGS4 was everything I'd expect from Kojima. From the gameplay to the tiniest of details and of course, Easter eggs, the man doesn't disappoint his fans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Critic mode OFF&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-2186867990341465365?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/2186867990341465365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=2186867990341465365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/2186867990341465365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/2186867990341465365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-take-on-mgs4.html' title='My take on MGS4'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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-313241361092631351.post-6515387836422370691</id><published>2008-06-12T04:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T04:39:58.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>*fapfapfap*</title><content type='html'>I freaking CAME!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/SFEKy9BAF9I/AAAAAAAAACI/U6vUEBuLZwQ/s1600-h/12062008301.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/SFEKy9BAF9I/AAAAAAAAACI/U6vUEBuLZwQ/s320/12062008301.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210958114332874706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-6515387836422370691?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/6515387836422370691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=6515387836422370691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/6515387836422370691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/6515387836422370691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/06/fapfapfap.html' title='*fapfapfap*'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/SFEKy9BAF9I/AAAAAAAAACI/U6vUEBuLZwQ/s72-c/12062008301.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313241361092631351.post-1203531967179165219</id><published>2008-05-20T08:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T08:50:35.371-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Clothes and Rackets</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-----Random Topic #1-----&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People often tell me I have no sense of fashion when I dress. Well up yours, people. You all probably live on the other side of the hemisphere and not know how fucking hot my place is. I would've taken the effort to dress up every now and then...if I weren't sweating bullets just after 10 minutes from my door. Despite how lazy I am, I actually have very active glands. Clothes are meant to be worn as a sign of image, that much I agree. But picture a guy on a sweltering hot afternoon in designer clothing near you with his deodorant mixed up with sweat and you'll probably lose your appetite for lunch or even decorate the walls with it. I wear clothes for practical reasons, not to flaunt my own body left and right, and besides in my college, nobody gives a fuck if you wear a kilt and blare a bagpipe and talk with a Scottish accent. They often just think they're prettier than you are, so much for YOUR effort to look good when nobody gives two hoots about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, when the occasion calls for it, I take things to a different level. Despite everything I said, I'm actually very conscious about how I look and present myself, but I just cant give a damn when you ruin your best clothes before you can even show it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-----Random Topic #2-----&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand my own people sometimes. Actually, I gave up understanding them ever since they fucked us all up. It was only recently that the Uber Cup and Thomas Cup were held in Jakarta, Indonesia. Having played a fair share of badminton in my adolescent years, I took the time to watch them play. I'm pleasantly surprised Malaysia held out so well this time...wait, I'm not here to talk about that. I'm talking about how my people hype things up whenever something happens. Around the time the tourneys are being held, I spotted a few people sweating it out on the courts in my neighborhood park. I mean, why only now? I never seen anyone gave a damn about badminton before the tourneys and suddenly all these people appear out of nowhere and start thinking they're like seasoned professionals, jumping, smashing, diving, looping, flipping, slipping, twisting and breaking their own bodies. And after all this 'heat' dies down, they toss their rackets aside to collect dust, never to be seen again after another 2 fucking years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-1203531967179165219?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/1203531967179165219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=1203531967179165219' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/1203531967179165219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/1203531967179165219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/05/of-clothes-and-rackets.html' title='Of Clothes and Rackets'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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-313241361092631351.post-4375826885811361243</id><published>2008-05-07T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T07:55:50.957-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When I Was...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-----Random Topic #1-----  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During college, I never had the luxury of time, especially during lunch hours. The most I have is about 1 hour before my next class begins, and fighting the lunch crowd is a struggle everyday. However, what ticked me off the most is that despite the small grace period between classes, I never found a little bit of peace when I'm eating. Here's why ; I was at my usual joint one day, and as I was gobbling my food down, this middle-aged Indian guy would stand nearby and start yapping away on his phone in Tamil. Now, it wouldn't be a problem, if he wasn't talking so loud. Apparently, I see this same guy each time I went there for lunch, never failing to show up. He would walk back and forth and yap away, oblivious to his surroundings. I also noticed a hint of of anger and disappointment in his tone when he talks. Once, another middle-aged Indian man told him off, saying he's disrupting everyone's lunch there. Glad to see some of us are still civic conscious. One must wonder if this guy even has a day job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-----Random Topic #2-----  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I received an SMS from Dell saying my order will be delivered by tomorrow. I couldn't be more elated. I've been scheming for a new desktop to replace my 8 year old one, but decided to go for a lappy given the space constraints in my house. Now I can finally turn my cra-...antique PC over to my dad. Happy Early Father's Day, dad. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Last sentence in Topic 2 is a joke. I'll get you something dad, after I find one for mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.A.  Post title is totally meaningless, I couldn't put anything witty this time.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-4375826885811361243?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/4375826885811361243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=4375826885811361243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/4375826885811361243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/4375826885811361243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/05/when-i-was.html' title='When I Was...'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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-313241361092631351.post-2146068167932988802</id><published>2008-04-30T00:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T00:37:53.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Morally Wicked Mr. Warren</title><content type='html'>It was just this Monday that I attended my Moral Studies class for the first time. I dreaded LAN subjects because my last experience with my Malaysian Studies lecturer has left me in despair. In fact, that said lecturer made me wish I never have to retake these subjects again when I'm old and gone senile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had knowledge that our Moral Studies lecturer goes by the name Warren. Never having met him before, I braced myself for what's to come. A few minutes before the appointed time, in walked an elderly man, bespectacled and carrying a black bag as he made his way down the steps to the front. It wasn't long before he started teaching, and when he did, it was to my utmost surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only did he broke the ice among the students (which were from 3 different faculties), but his manner of speech and and sarcasm made class all the more interesting. What I had in mind, Moral being one where you need to memorize those 'values' and definitions into hours of monotonous grindfest quickly flew out the window. It was a complete turnover from what I've been traumatized with back in my schooling days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, he discussed about 'Abortion'. Not only does Mr. Warren sound like a experienced lecturer, he also sounds like a doctor with 5 Ph.Ds decorating his office wall. Also, there was a part where he gave us an advanced tip on how to prevent pregnancies, something to do with dissolving Panadol in water and holding it between your knees. I wasn't clearly sure, because I was dumbfounded when he said that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to you, Mr. Warren.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-2146068167932988802?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/2146068167932988802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=2146068167932988802' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/2146068167932988802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/2146068167932988802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/04/morally-wicked-mr-warren.html' title='Morally Wicked Mr. Warren'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313241361092631351.post-2465135266047777749</id><published>2008-04-21T07:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T07:41:07.210-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MyRantings Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-----Random Topic #1----- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It pisses me off when people act retarded in front of you. It pisses me off more when people can't walk in a straight line. On my way to class today, I had to bypass this narrow corridor to get to the assigned room for a lecture. There, these 3 douchebags were taking the same path. It's bad enough they walked real slow. But the fact that I couldn't get pass them because they couldn't fucking walk in a straight line and wailing out some incomprehensible language while laughing at each other like they just laid their own moms yesterday makes it even impossible for me to arrive for class on time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-----Random Topic #2-----&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malaysians are incredible when it comes to playing the blame game. They choose to point the finger and run rather than facing cold hard facts. Take car accidents for example. Instead of exchanging information to resolve the accident, they hurl abusive words at each other, ready to break into a fistfight anytime. It gets worse when both parties are of different race. Yet these very people believe they can be first-class citizens. Suck it. You people have third-world mentalities. Infrastructure may be first-class, but it's no use when the people are backwater village idiots. Malaysia Boleh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-----Random Topic #3-----&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With ever passing day, I am loving my PSP and DS more and more. As a result, I have neglected my PS3 sitting on my AV cabinet. Feeling guilty, I decided to take the machine for a run by playing the limited games I have with me. However, I despaired not. Come mid-year, I will have accumulated enough dough to get the highly anticipated exclusives for my awesome machine. If only Blu-Ray discs are cheaper...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had never really plan on telling this, but I feel I should, because someone I know will get a kick out of this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Few days ago, I had a dream. Not just any dream. It was straight out of Crisis Core. No, I wasn't Zack himself, hacking and slashing away at baddies, but I was playing it rather. Then, I heard the sexy computer voice: "Modulating Phase". The DMW started to spin. I expected to land an Angeal or Cissnei, but instead I got this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/SAylmRzGjJI/AAAAAAAAACA/oedSMbqVwhM/s1600-h/leon_dmw.PNG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/SAylmRzGjJI/AAAAAAAAACA/oedSMbqVwhM/s320/leon_dmw.PNG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191706547482692754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I tried to recreate the scene from my dream, this is the best I could do.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I remember instead of the words "Power Surge!!", the voice sounded alot like "Penis!!". I got to stop playing too many games before bedtime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-2465135266047777749?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/2465135266047777749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=2465135266047777749' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/2465135266047777749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/2465135266047777749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/04/myrantings-part-2.html' title='MyRantings Part 2'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/SAylmRzGjJI/AAAAAAAAACA/oedSMbqVwhM/s72-c/leon_dmw.PNG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313241361092631351.post-7536583718574194236</id><published>2008-04-20T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T06:58:37.611-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The World Ends With You</title><content type='html'>I was leisurely browsing through the ROM list for NDS games when I stumbled upon this gem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/SAtNBBzGjII/AAAAAAAAAB4/BKCAUoILJR0/s1600-h/935689_98195_front.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/SAtNBBzGjII/AAAAAAAAAB4/BKCAUoILJR0/s320/935689_98195_front.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191327675532610690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Being a Square-Enix fanboy, I couldn't but help but give this game a try. Just seconds into the game, and I was instantly hooked. After all, who could resist a game from the man who was the driving force behind Kingdom Hearts? Though the title couldn't be any cheesier, it's easily forgettable once you start playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Setting &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The game takes place in the modern world of a popular district called Shibuya, Tokyo. 15 year old Neku (pfft!)  is socially withdrawn, though not to any extreme, who sports  headphones and a bold fashion statement. He wishes for nothing more than people to disappear from his life, and he gets it. Unaware, Neku is pulled into an alternate Shibuya governed by a mysterious group of people who runs the "Reaper's Game" in it. Neku's life takes a huge turn when he witnesses people actually disappearing from his eyes. To survive, Neku must play the Reaper's Game, which lasts 7 days. Then, he meets a young girl, Shiki, who forms a pact with him, pulling Neku into the greatest fight for his life. Fail, and he faces erasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gameplay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The World Ends With You play very much alike to Kingdom Hearts : Chains of Memories. You control Neku with the stylus and also attack enemies with it. Each weapon (pins) you possess differs from one another and how they're utilized in attacks are determined by the motion of your stylus itself. Like all RPGs, Neku has stats and his pins will eventually level up as he massacres his way through the game. Stats allocation takes an interesting twist here. To raise Neku's stats, you need to equip clothes (yes, clothes!) and other accessories  which you can buy along the streets of Shibuya. Food (yes, food!) helps raise your stats but doesn't take permanent effect until you fully digest the food...wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cutscenes are played using visual-novel style, with speech bubbles for the dialogue between characters. While fully animated in 2D, the game doesn't lack. The visuals are nothing to cough at, and the soundtracks is one of the best I've heard, with actual lyrics to boot, instead of the conventional instrumentals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The World Ends With You even features a New Game+, which you can carry over data from your previous game into a new one. This puts the game high on the replay value chart, and it's something most NDS games lack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, The World Ends With You is a solid, addictive RPG with lots of originality and style. For those who own a DS, this is one game you shouldn't miss out on, Square-Enix fan or no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-7536583718574194236?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/7536583718574194236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=7536583718574194236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/7536583718574194236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/7536583718574194236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/04/world-ends-with-you.html' title='The World Ends With You'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/SAtNBBzGjII/AAAAAAAAAB4/BKCAUoILJR0/s72-c/935689_98195_front.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313241361092631351.post-1959753095563155073</id><published>2008-04-19T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T07:43:03.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MyRantings</title><content type='html'>Lately, people have been telling me:&lt;br /&gt;"Bryan, you dick. What's with the '1 post per week' gig? I enjoy reading your blog because yours is the only blog which doesn't repeat the same words like 'honey bun snuckums' 3 times in the same line, or write sentences without punctuation marks like the rest of my peeps do. So throw more meat into it. It doesn't really matter even if you're ripping someone off."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be truthful, I was pretty flattered, but I couldn't help wondering just why anyone would want to read this crap at all? I'm pretty sure I offended at least 10 people in my previous posts. My layout is as dull as cow's testicles. I started this blog out of boredom. I never really gave any attention to it because it's only as a means for me to hyperventilate. Still, I'm flattered. So, I've decided that instead of writing a full length topic, I'll put 'Random topic' each time I write about something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-----Random Topic #1-----&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goddammit you fucking cunts. A car signal is for letting drivers know you're about to switch lanes or corner. They're not for you to tell me "I'm squeezing into your 1-foot gap, so move it."&lt;br /&gt;To those people who hog the U-turn lanes at traffic light junctions, you can fuck off too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-----Random Topic #2-----&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that when I finally manage to sell off my PS2, the good JRPG games who I never thought would be localized hits the game stores? Talk about depriving a guy off his ecstasy.&lt;br /&gt;At least there's some jewels I'm looking forward to for my lovable DS and PSP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;-----Random Topic #3-----&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I happen to watch my brother playing GoW : Chains of Olympus yesterday night. He got squashed by Atlas's knuckle sandwich. I couldn't stop laughing after that. I'm still laughing even now as I write this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-1959753095563155073?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/1959753095563155073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=1959753095563155073' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/1959753095563155073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/1959753095563155073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/04/myrantings.html' title='MyRantings'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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-313241361092631351.post-1894838982531652258</id><published>2008-04-12T02:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T03:15:05.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fair, The Bloke, and I</title><content type='html'>Today I hauled my arse over to the PC Fair. 3 reasons :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) To find a decent, cheap mouse to replace my retarded, old one.&lt;br /&gt;2) To find a decent, cheap pair of earphones for my PSP/DS.&lt;br /&gt;3) To find a vibrating cock ring my cousin Leon asked me to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I braced myself as I stepped out of the KLCC LRT station. I flowed with the crowd, the line twist, bend and coil like a giant anaconda all the way towards the convention center 2 floors up. The entire fair was utter madness. Promoters hoisting placards, 'pasar malam'-ish shouts rang through all the 5 clogged halls and the sweet sound of technology filled the sweat-evaporated air. I shuffled myself in and out, making my way forward as I browse through the booths and scouted their prices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I waddle my way through the fair, I came across a promoter with a flyer offering cheap modems and routers. Rather, she was trying to convince this Malay dude right in front of me. To my surprise, the bloke shouted back at her(yes, the promoter was a she) "But your computers are still RM3,000 and above!" I nearly popped a vein when I heard that line. What the hell does computer prices have to do with the modems they were selling? Furthermore, the booth itself wasn't even selling any PCs  to begin with. Just modems. Poor girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shrugged in utter disgust, and could only offer a silent sympathy to the girl. After scouting around all 5 halls, I finally purchased my mouse and earphones at some booth I'm not bothered to name. As I browsed at a NEC booth, I ran into the same bloke from earlier. This time, he was testing a hybrid PC NEC was promoting. The booth guy explained that the keyboard is wireless and compact and could be used within 10-feet or so from the main unit. Interested, the bloke decide to give a shot. So he stepped back a few feet and tried to move the pointer with the pad. Then he stepped a few feet back again and tried again. At this time, about 4 of the booth guys were staring at him like hawks. The funny thing was, each time the bloke stepped back, the 4 guys would step forward once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Divine intervention struck. As that bloke took 1 final step back, he knocked into another shopper carrying a box. The box didn't drop, but the bloke dropped the wireless keyboard he was holding. The keyboard slammed once, flipped over and slammed another time. Justice is served. I walked away with a nasty grin. I hurriedly made my way to the exit after awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, I couldn't find any vibrating cock rings. Sorry, Leon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-1894838982531652258?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/1894838982531652258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=1894838982531652258' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/1894838982531652258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/1894838982531652258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/04/fair-bloke-and-i.html' title='The Fair, The Bloke, and I'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313241361092631351.post-1772859444138941328</id><published>2008-04-02T10:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T00:22:06.220-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Zetsubou shita!</title><content type='html'>It has been a boorish start for me this semester, things were awfully slower than I thought and nothing much seems to be happening around my area. In short, I'm in despair. The fact that everything bores me to death has left me in despair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With my PC busted up, my one and only main source of information and entertainment has been cut to the core, tumbled, spun around and left to dry out in the void of cyberspace. My favorite animes have been fucked by companies licensings and I pray I can at least finish one series without getting chased around like fleeting lambs. It's like having a nice cup of joe when suddenly someone mistakens it for a spitbowl and spits in it, twice. I'm in despair. The licensing of animes and my deprivation of entertainment has left me in despair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classes were a drag, and if there's any reason for me to hate them is because the lecturers are borderline impossible themselves. We heard of students playing truant, but when lecturers starts playing truant, you know our educational society is filled with unprofessional cunts. If there's another reason why I hate them is because how unnecessary the knowledge is to us. Take Malaysian Studies for example, half the book is filled with utter lies, and the other half is just plain bullshit. And why bother studying Moral? I fulfilled my civic duties long before I even knew how to wank off to porn. I'm in despair. The fact that I had to study this piece of shit with a borderline impossible lecturer has left me in despair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll just curl up in bed and play Crisis Core for the time being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Last paragraph was intended as a joke.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-1772859444138941328?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/1772859444138941328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=1772859444138941328' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/1772859444138941328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/1772859444138941328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/04/zetsubou-shita.html' title='Zetsubou shita!'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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-313241361092631351.post-8668885060501313345</id><published>2008-03-27T00:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T00:51:42.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Splurging</title><content type='html'>I've been splurging a lot lately, and having to buy a new PC to replace my 8 year old one isn't helping me kick this nasty habit I've had lately. To avoid my bank from thinning, I took up a few side jobs to help cover the expenses. I'll still be able to make a decent commission if not plenty, the least I could do. And I probably won't be spending any money than necessary until mid year or later. That includes my mangas and other little 'tidbits'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suffice to say, I've spend quite the budget for this year. At this rate I'll be forced to confine and drown myself into the workload about to come to keep me from itching. The long semester starting next week might just do the trick, and besides, I need to rack up those CGPA points as high as possible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-8668885060501313345?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/8668885060501313345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=8668885060501313345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/8668885060501313345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/8668885060501313345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/03/splurging.html' title='Splurging'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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-313241361092631351.post-5555413451007981649</id><published>2008-03-21T21:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T22:06:48.976-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boggin' my noggin'</title><content type='html'>The holidays seem like a drag this time around, probably because its still early in the year and the fact that an unforgiving long 6 month semester coming up in about 1 week's time doesn't help alleviate things at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the entirety of my time on my PC and my DS this time around, with perfectly good reasons. With the recent heat and dramatic change in our ruling system, rumors are sparking everywhere igniting danger and possible outbreaks of riots. I had received 'threats' on my phone about this so-called riots, and while I simply dismissed them as nothing but rumors, my aunt seemed to take it in a different stride. So much stride that she was worried for my cousin who's living by himself. I hadn't the time to talk to him about the rumors, but I can assure that his opinions are nothing less short of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had finished every single Phoenix Wright game including Apollo Justice as I write this, and I admit it was very engrossing. And might I add I managed to finish everything within the 2 week semester break without help from FAQs. I had literally cracked my noggin playing those games, but gained up more on critical thinking which is surprisingly satisfying whenever I hit the correct Objection!.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Apollo Justice, have some Caramelldansen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cjfXHI8O9jM"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cjfXHI8O9jM&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cjfXHI8O9jM&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-5555413451007981649?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/5555413451007981649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=5555413451007981649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/5555413451007981649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/5555413451007981649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/03/boggin-my-noggin.html' title='Boggin&apos; my noggin&apos;'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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-313241361092631351.post-4237855110390569416</id><published>2008-03-19T08:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T08:54:22.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hu-mans</title><content type='html'>It is said that humans are not born perfect, or born intelligent. I couldn't agree more. Because some humans are born with their brains swapped for an ass. I have definitive, conclusive and decisive proof right here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R-EyAid2w5I/AAAAAAAAABw/O1_6uBe_AkU/s1600-h/07022008246.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R-EyAid2w5I/AAAAAAAAABw/O1_6uBe_AkU/s320/07022008246.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179476031286199186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had stumbled upon this mockery of the human intelligence back during the CNY holidays. The moment I saw this, I knew I had to press the shutter on my camera phone. As luck would have it, I was punching in a SMS at that very time, and it took no longer than 5 seconds for me to capture this Kodak moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I may, the car I was in cruised at a steady 120kph. It would've taken a bus a considerable amount of time to achieve that speed, but cakewalk for a bike. What's more, the bike wasn't just tailgating the bus, it was obviously drafting from the reduced wind resistance taken by the bus, therefore an overall increase in speed than normal. However, we Malaysians have a 'unique' mindset for every occasion, so why not. Let's just hope the bus driver doesn't have a knee jerk and slammed the brakes by accident, but just for the fun of it, it'll be amusing to see him do just that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I hope MBF Cards pays me royalties for helping them advertise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-4237855110390569416?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/4237855110390569416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=4237855110390569416' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/4237855110390569416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/4237855110390569416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/03/hu-mans.html' title='Hu-mans'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R-EyAid2w5I/AAAAAAAAABw/O1_6uBe_AkU/s72-c/07022008246.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313241361092631351.post-2547247581069457456</id><published>2008-03-13T20:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T21:17:11.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'>GACC 2008</title><content type='html'>About two weeks ago, I followed my cousin to the Games, Anime and Comics Convention (GACC) 2008 held at Malacca Multimedia University. This is the second time I visited such conventions, due to the fact that the cons were held at an surprisingly convenient time when my exams are deviously close, and this is no exception either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Expecting an eyeful of events that governed my life and views since an early age, I was rather taken aback when I got there. Not to flame or offend anyone, but on the day I went there, which was the very first day, I found the venue less than satisfactory. However, because I only tagged along and was merely a guest, I had kept those opinions to myself. It wasn't until when my cousin Kelvin expressed his disappointment on the first day that I managed to chip in my side of the coin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to him, the venue was too small to host such an event of its grandeur, let alone accommodate the amount of visitors expected to turn up. While the venue itself created a rather bleak impression, the booths and segments of the con managed to compensate, to me at least. At one corner, there are figurines and models up for sale. At the other side, various items such as badges, books, and other accessories were up for grabs and the gaming section turned up pretty okay. Though I had my camera phone on the ready, I wasn't able to take any memorable photos save for this particular one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R9n4nSd2w4I/AAAAAAAAABo/mYJsSE-WCjU/s1600-h/01032008271.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R9n4nSd2w4I/AAAAAAAAABo/mYJsSE-WCjU/s320/01032008271.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177442600494744450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cosplayers weren't aplenty on that day, much to my dismay. My guess is that most of them went to 'observe' before coming out full force on the second day. I had heard that the seiyuu (voice actor) for Bleach's Kurosaki Ichigo, Masakazu Morita had made a special guest appearance the very next day. Though he didn't appear cosplaying as Ichigo, which would be a sight to behold, the lovable seiyuu managed to capture the limelight at the event. On a side note, Morita also voiced Tidus in the japanese version of FF-X and X-2 and also provided the motion capture for Zell Dincht in FF VIII and FF VII : Advent Children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a pity I didn't get to snap a photo of my cousin going ga-ga over the Godot badge he bought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-2547247581069457456?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/2547247581069457456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=2547247581069457456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/2547247581069457456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/2547247581069457456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/03/gacc-2008.html' title='GACC 2008'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R9n4nSd2w4I/AAAAAAAAABo/mYJsSE-WCjU/s72-c/01032008271.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313241361092631351.post-3632458625075074497</id><published>2008-03-10T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T19:55:37.135-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Changes, changes</title><content type='html'>I have thoroughly convinced myself that I won't be able to single-handedly customize my blog to my heart's content. I plan to consult a friend of mine who will be able to aid me on this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a chatterbox set up on the left sidebar, just to make this blog look more 'functional' without giving out the impression that I have zilch knowledge on HTML codings. Feel free to drop a message there, might be easier than just replying to my posts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until I find more meat to stuff in here, help yourself to this impressive piece of art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R9X0mSd2w2I/AAAAAAAAABY/IeJ9WhkItZw/s1600-h/1197716212839.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R9X0mSd2w2I/AAAAAAAAABY/IeJ9WhkItZw/s320/1197716212839.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176312285361521506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R9XzWid2w1I/AAAAAAAAABQ/dHkPkfF40B8/s1600-h/1178580109084gm0.gif"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-3632458625075074497?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/3632458625075074497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=3632458625075074497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/3632458625075074497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/3632458625075074497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-have-thoroughly-convinced-myself-that.html' title='Changes, changes'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R9X0mSd2w2I/AAAAAAAAABY/IeJ9WhkItZw/s72-c/1197716212839.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313241361092631351.post-7980489003231159216</id><published>2008-03-07T04:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T04:34:34.081-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I came!</title><content type='html'>Today, I came home with an orgasmic smile on my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R9Ex9hwWulI/AAAAAAAAABI/X5UY-yOidcU/s1600-h/07032008274.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R9Ex9hwWulI/AAAAAAAAABI/X5UY-yOidcU/s320/07032008274.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174972379928377938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got hold of my very own Nintendo DS Lite. It was a tough decision but I decided to go for the DS Lite following my cousin's and several others' recommendations. And frankly, I'm quite happy with the purchase. To add more icing on the cake, I actually got the airfoam pouch and the crystal casing for free. Sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if you'll excuse me, I shall continue my orgasmic activity with my little machine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-7980489003231159216?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/7980489003231159216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=7980489003231159216' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/7980489003231159216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/7980489003231159216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/03/today-i-came-home-with-orgasmic-smile.html' title='I came!'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R9Ex9hwWulI/AAAAAAAAABI/X5UY-yOidcU/s72-c/07032008274.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313241361092631351.post-3853827364852406939</id><published>2008-03-04T06:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T06:32:48.907-08:00</updated><title type='text'>English</title><content type='html'>It's sad that even up till now, I still find a lot of people unable to converse in simple English. Being the global language, I'd like if everyone can at least speak a little of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, maybe I'm jumping the gun a little. True, most people I've spoken to do speak English, but that's only in verbal form and convincing enough. Maybe that's the reason why our signboards are riddled with Manglish instead. I dare say that while most people are able to converse sufficiently for daily use, they neglected their grammar and spelling instead. And that alone, its a huge deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being one who hailed from a country with diverse cultures and races, I often find myself facing the results of the cultural meltpot every day. Even a simple sign such as "Not for sale" is gravely misspelled as "Not for sold". Another hillarious sign reads "Secondhand handphones sole here". It is a pity that we still make petty mistakes like these, especially when we were once colonized by the British. Go figure. But I guess since Malaysia emphasized Bahasa Melayu as their first language, English got kicked behind to second place. But I think probably by now a lot of people are going around banging their heads against the wall for not taking their English seriously when they had the chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This reminds me of an incident which happened some time ago. I was trying to converse with a person in an online game in English, when he retaliated me with his Manglish words. The dialogue went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anon : can pls tell me hw to make stat for GS?&lt;br /&gt;Bryan : okay...let me get this straight, you want stats for gunslingers?&lt;br /&gt;Anon : yaya, ken onot? cz i rly duno lerrrr&lt;br /&gt;Bryan : I don't mind, but can you phrase it in decent English at least?&lt;br /&gt;Anon : wat mean?&lt;br /&gt;Bryan : can you speak proper English please? simple will do.&lt;br /&gt;Anon : wei bradder, we in m'sia la, talk rojak la. dun be guai lou. who wan care?&lt;br /&gt;Bryan : I do. Cause I can't help you if I can't understand you. And I pray you can find a job here.&lt;br /&gt;Anon : dunwan help then dun help la. lansi bastad.&lt;br /&gt;Bryan : Fuck you then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now pray tell me who in the blue hell does this guy thinks he has the authority to tell me to use rojak English? And since when did dickheads like these ever give a damn about how people speak English in the first place?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it. A classic Malaysian mentality at work. First world citizen wannabes with third world mentalities. Malaysia Boleh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-3853827364852406939?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/3853827364852406939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=3853827364852406939' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/3853827364852406939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/3853827364852406939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/03/english.html' title='English'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313241361092631351.post-8387459954018391456</id><published>2008-03-03T22:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T23:43:27.814-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A trip to the Orient</title><content type='html'>First of all, allow me to apologize for the sorry state of my blog. It's just that I can't go on inserting banners and signatures into it without actually knowing how to tweak the HTML codings. And until I can recall what I learned in C++ (which I doubt I will), I just can't picture myself dicking around the codings and screwing up my blog so hard that I have to use soothing cream to mend the damages instead of technical support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But enough about that. Today I decided to talk about a family trip I had to China a few months back. It was first time I ever went to a foreign country, and no, Singapore doesn't count as 'foreign' to me. So anyways, we touched down at Pu Dong International Airport and was shortly after greeted by our tour guide. Now being the banana I am, I haven't the slightest idea of Mandarin and most of the time I was trying not to embarrass myself, although I do know some simple words and sentences. Our tour consists of several places within the province; Shanghai, Hangzhou, Suzhou, Nanjing and Wuxi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shanghai is a lovely place, equipped with state-of-the-art facilities and modern high rise buildings, it makes the buildings in KL look like hedges compared to theirs who look like oak trees. Another fact that caught my attention was that the population of Shanghai alone is equal to the entire population of Malaysia. And that was only in the city limits. Fascinating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So moving on, the very next day we were taken to a popular place in Shanghai, Temple Street. The place was abuzz with activity, shops and food stalls were aplenty, and tourists flock the place like pigeons to grain. I strolled the area, taking in what seems to be a complete 'Chinese' experience when all of a sudden I came across this abomination...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8z2IxGOypI/AAAAAAAAAAU/e98h8oViv18/s1600-h/15122007131.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8z2IxGOypI/AAAAAAAAAAU/e98h8oViv18/s320/15122007131.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173780702420716178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the last thing I'd expect to see in Temple Street. And if I may, I'd say putting Starbucks in the middle of a temple is a direct insult to the tea-drinkers. And if that's not enough, they actually serve tea in Starbucks. Think about it. Oh, and that was my brother if you're wondering. Charming little guy, eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best part of the tour was the Ancient Water Village of Wuzhen. The water canals gave a sense of calm and it's a nice change from the bustle of the city. It's a peaceful place, and the winter breeze makes the air so much more refreshing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8z5RhGOysI/AAAAAAAAAAs/tiWks48ORs8/s1600-h/17122007159.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8z5RhGOysI/AAAAAAAAAAs/tiWks48ORs8/s320/17122007159.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173784151279454914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8z5wxGOytI/AAAAAAAAAA0/YQ2FLOqRb88/s1600-h/17122007157.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8z5wxGOytI/AAAAAAAAAA0/YQ2FLOqRb88/s320/17122007157.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173784688150366930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8z4jRGOyqI/AAAAAAAAAAc/rOdzJ8ROHes/s1600-h/17122007153.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8z4jRGOyqI/AAAAAAAAAAc/rOdzJ8ROHes/s320/17122007153.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173783356710505122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8z48RGOyrI/AAAAAAAAAAk/Ts4qG0OFT_A/s1600-h/17122007152.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8z48RGOyrI/AAAAAAAAAAk/Ts4qG0OFT_A/s320/17122007152.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173783786207234738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stopped at another temple along the way after Wuzhen, and thankfully, no Starbucks this time. It's not like I hate Starbucks, it just ruins the mood especially in sacred places like temples. So anyways, I was bored walking around and decided to be a dick on foreign soil and do  something really stupid...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8z7HRGOyuI/AAAAAAAAAA8/9Jotll2L50o/s1600-h/China+185.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8z7HRGOyuI/AAAAAAAAAA8/9Jotll2L50o/s320/China+185.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173786174209051362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Right. The rest of the tour isn't anything worth mentioning. When we touched down at KLIA a week later, we hoofed it over to our favorite mamak stall and had our roti and teh tarik. Ah, it's good to be home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-8387459954018391456?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/8387459954018391456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=8387459954018391456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/8387459954018391456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/8387459954018391456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/03/first-of-all-allow-me-to-apologize-for.html' title='A trip to the Orient'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8z2IxGOypI/AAAAAAAAAAU/e98h8oViv18/s72-c/15122007131.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313241361092631351.post-6910570965633334599</id><published>2008-03-03T21:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T22:41:02.634-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not so long ago...</title><content type='html'>Today, I'd like to start out about how technology influenced and changed my life. Being a proud a member of the Generation-Y community, I was blessed with the rapid advent of technology around me from a tender age of 10.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though not being able to own every single piece of technology there is, I was quite happy with what I have now. The first console I ever bought was the PS One, and since then I was constantly looking out for more of Sony's hardwares. I never looked at other consoles at that time, until I decided to get a GameBoy Color because Pokemon was the rage at that time. Little did I notice that GameBoy was by Nintendo. I haven't realized it until just a few days ago...hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8zuwBGOyoI/AAAAAAAAAAM/2acP2vZpW6c/s1600-h/14022008254.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8zuwBGOyoI/AAAAAAAAAAM/2acP2vZpW6c/s320/14022008254.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173772580637559426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The newest addition to my gaming arsenal was the much anticipated PlayStation 3. I was overwhelmed with the fact that I was one of the many early birds who adopted the technology prior to the forwat war between HD DVD and Blu-Ray. It wasn't until a few weeks ago that Blu-Ray won the war, and that turned my PlayStation 3 into an investment rather than just another luxury item. But I suppose what piqued my interest in getting the PlayStation 3 was the graphics and it's amazing processing speed capable of doing things it's predecessor wasn't able to do; real-time, on-the-fly instantaneous switching in-game. Throw in a couple of premium, exclusive games such as Metal Gear Solid 4 and we have ourselves a winner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, just recently, I have this unshakable feeling of playing games on the go. And my answer to that? Handheld consoles. While I did own a GB Color, I have outgrown the games and decided to shift to something more...elusive. The conclusion, came down to the PSP and the Nintendo DS. Being a complete newb to these handhelds, I seeked advice from my cousin, who owns both systems. His suggestion was the DS Lite first, and PSP later. I figured as much, not because I wasn't a Nintendo fanboy or anything, but the fact that he saw me playing Phoenix Wright on his DS all damn day convinced him that I was addicted to it. And he wasn't wrong either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-6910570965633334599?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/6910570965633334599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=6910570965633334599' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/6910570965633334599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/6910570965633334599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/03/today-id-like-to-start-out-about-how.html' title='Not so long ago...'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XJtjwoRLFvc/R8zuwBGOyoI/AAAAAAAAAAM/2acP2vZpW6c/s72-c/14022008254.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-313241361092631351.post-255123542543456244</id><published>2008-03-03T21:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T21:51:09.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Starting Out</title><content type='html'>After countless days or even months of procrastinating, I was able to move my lazy arse and make a blog out of boredom. To be frank, I never really had the intention to scribble what's on my mind in a blog, it's just that sometimes I tend to speak my mind, and it becomes soft of a habit and it bothers people around me. Ergo, the blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, alright. Before I move on rambling about other stuff, I'd thought I'd share a little bit about myself. I go by the name of Bryan, currently 20 years of age and I'm currently pursuing my diploma in a local private college. I'm a self confessed anime and game enthusiast, although not to the level of 'otaku' (yet). I have a passion for technology, namely the ones used in the entertainment world, though I don't exactly have the resources to own each and every little trinket there is in the market. You could say I'm a meticulous person, and a bit of a scrooge, to the point that I skip meals in trade for a few hours of satisfactory entertainment everyday. But enough about myself. I like to keep posts short and simple unless the need arises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I have some time to kill these days, expect this blog to be updated quite often if not frequently. Until then, I'll lay off the pen right here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/313241361092631351-255123542543456244?l=demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/255123542543456244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=313241361092631351&amp;postID=255123542543456244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/255123542543456244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/313241361092631351/posts/default/255123542543456244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://demonic-rabbit.blogspot.com/2008/03/starting-out.html' title='Starting Out'/><author><name>Devil-Inside</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00712713962049713276</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>
