<?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-17615371</id><updated>2012-01-31T01:17:26.827+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SassyLady</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>68</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-115520188174989792</id><published>2011-07-23T20:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T20:21:19.978+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfect</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Life's been going ups and downs for this past few months.&lt;br /&gt;Should this be good or bad,&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure.&lt;br /&gt;At times i craved for excitement,&lt;br /&gt;I adore peaceful-ness.&lt;br /&gt;At times i thought,&lt;br /&gt;losing something will gain others,&lt;br /&gt;but it's never what i thought it was.&lt;br /&gt;Im not sure if im on the right track.&lt;br /&gt;Nonetheless, i guess the right thing to do now&lt;br /&gt;is to live to the fullest everyday.&lt;br /&gt;Hoping everything will be right some day,&lt;br /&gt;the day i become PERFECT&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-115520188174989792?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/115520188174989792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=115520188174989792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/115520188174989792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/115520188174989792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/08/perfect.html' title='Perfect'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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-17615371.post-114939573279530321</id><published>2011-07-22T12:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T20:56:16.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>WTF!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/sui.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/sui.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;To hell wif some of this ppl..always acting inconsiderately..thinking only about their own. Personally I dont give a damn who you are or what you do but its in the interest of others that I have to swallow my pride and try to be merry..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just dont understand..they can initiate something so seriously..wanting it badly..but when its time to take the responsibility...they act blur..pretending not to know anything..dont want to take the blame...Go to Hell!!I just wish you ppl could just disappear from the face of this earth!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your presence is a nuisance to me. Always the never ending..always about you and you and you..You ppl dont want to know what other people's interest are, what they like, they dislike..cant even understand a simple no or even a hint..Much to say telling you directly, is like trying to take my own life..the risk is way much higher than someone thinking of suicide.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114939573279530321?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114939573279530321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114939573279530321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/06/wtf.html' title='WTF!!'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114562040969039694</id><published>2008-12-25T01:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T00:04:11.225+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Going To The Movies Anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JBXGtWl5IHE/SVIb31Y7btI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XA0Geir2PJo/s1600-h/moviepix.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 476px; height: 263px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JBXGtWl5IHE/SVIb31Y7btI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XA0Geir2PJo/s320/moviepix.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283315958897405650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know i  have been away for quite sometime.... ages to be exact. Well i have no one to blame except me myself and time. But of course during my absence, i managed to hang around places with family and frens. Tell u, i had lots of fun babe..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of my favorite hangouts ... the movies. And as you all know, we get to catch many things and study many behaviors from around us. Such as:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  It is always possible to park directly outside any building you are visiting.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  A detective can only solve a case once he has been suspended from duty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. If you decide to start dancing in the street, everyone you bump into will know all the steps.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. When a person is knocked unconscious by a blow to the head, they will never suffer a concussion or brain damage.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  No one involved in a car chase, hijacking, explosion, volcanic eruption or alien invasion will ever go into shock.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  When they are alone, all foreighners prefer to speak English to each other. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  You can always find a chainsaw when you need one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  A lock can be picked by a credit card or a paper clip in seconds, unless it's the door to a burning building with a child trapped inside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. An electric fence, powerful enough to kill a dinosaur, will cause no lasting damage to an 8-year-old child.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Television news bulletins usually contain a story that effects you personally at that precise moment you turn the television on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11.  In a love story, the good guys always gets the pretty ladies than the bad guys.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;12.  The bad guys always managed to catch one or two gunshot compared to the good guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have any more actions to add, be my guest.&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/17615371-114562040969039694?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114562040969039694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114562040969039694' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114562040969039694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114562040969039694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/04/10-things-you-learn-from-movies.html' title='Going To The Movies Anyone?'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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/_JBXGtWl5IHE/SVIb31Y7btI/AAAAAAAAAAM/XA0Geir2PJo/s72-c/moviepix.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-115565078654552146</id><published>2006-08-15T22:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-15T22:06:26.570+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Twenty-One Thoughts</title><content type='html'>Just feel like sharing some 21 thoughts with you:-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. No one can ruin your day without YOUR permission.&lt;br /&gt;2. Most people will be about as happy, as they decide to be.&lt;br /&gt;3. Others can stop you temporarily, but only you can do it permanently.&lt;br /&gt;4. Whatever you are willing to put up with, is exactly what you will have.&lt;br /&gt;5. Success stops when you do.&lt;br /&gt;6. When your ship comes in.... make sure you are willing to unload it.&lt;br /&gt;7. You will never have it all together.&lt;br /&gt;8. Life is a journey...not a destination. Enjoy the trip!&lt;br /&gt;9. The biggest lie on the planet "When I get what I want I will be happy".&lt;br /&gt;10. The best way to escape your problem is to solve it.&lt;br /&gt;11. I've learned that ultimately , 'takers' lose and 'givers' win.&lt;br /&gt;12. Life's precious moments don't have value, unless they are shared.&lt;br /&gt;13. If you don't start, it's certain you won't arrive.&lt;br /&gt;14. We often fear the thing we want the most.&lt;br /&gt;15. He or she who laughs......lasts.&lt;br /&gt;16. Yesterday was the deadline for all complaints.&lt;br /&gt;17. Look for opportunities...not guarantees.&lt;br /&gt;18. Life is what's coming....not what was.&lt;br /&gt;19. Success is getting up one more time.&lt;br /&gt;20. Now is the most interesting time of all.&lt;br /&gt;21. When things go wrong.....don't go with them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-115565078654552146?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/115565078654552146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=115565078654552146' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/115565078654552146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/115565078654552146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/08/twenty-one-thoughts.html' title='Twenty-One Thoughts'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-115519942523837074</id><published>2006-08-09T21:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-10T16:52:40.220+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Pledge</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/symbol_flag.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 198px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="181" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/symbol_flag.gif" width="318" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Its Singapore's 41st Birthday. Everyone's excited. Everyone wants to be part of the celebration. Everyone including me...and my family of course. To Singapore, I'm 'renewing' my pledge to you:-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We, the citizens of Singapore, pledge ourselves as one united people, regardless of race, language or religion, to build a democratic society based on justice and equality, so as to achieve happiness, prosperity and progress for our nation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday to you Singapore...my home, my country.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-115519942523837074?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/115519942523837074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=115519942523837074' title='75 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/115519942523837074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/115519942523837074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/08/my-pledge.html' title='My Pledge'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>75</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-115417214567798764</id><published>2006-08-09T17:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-09T17:19:44.243+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am Me</title><content type='html'>I am responsible for myself~&lt;br /&gt;I am responsible for living my own life~&lt;br /&gt;I am responsible for tending to my own spiritual, emotional, physical, and financial well-being.~&lt;br /&gt;I am responsible for identifying and fulfilling my own needs, wants and desires.~&lt;br /&gt;I am responsible for living according to my own values and standards.~&lt;br /&gt;I am responsible for knowing and defending my own boundaries.~&lt;br /&gt;I am responsible for solving my own problems and for living with those I cannot solve.~&lt;br /&gt;I am responsible for making up my own mind, even when this means, disagreeing with others.~&lt;br /&gt;I am responsible for re-evaluating a situation and changing my mind when appropriate.~&lt;br /&gt;I am responsible for setting my own priorities and for achieving my own goals.~&lt;br /&gt;I am responsible for my own decisions, and their outcomes.~&lt;br /&gt;I am responsible for whom I love and for how I choose to express that love.~&lt;br /&gt;I am responsible for what I do to others and for what I allow others to do to me.~&lt;br /&gt;I am not expected to be perfect.~&lt;br /&gt;I am not expected to forsee every consequence of every action.~&lt;br /&gt;I am not expected to be responsible for any random events.~&lt;br /&gt;I am not expected to do more than my fair share.~&lt;br /&gt;I am not expected to be responsible for other people's actions, feelings, needs, or problems, except when I choose.~&lt;br /&gt;All of me, every aspect of my being is important.~&lt;br /&gt;I count for something.~&lt;br /&gt;I matter.~&lt;br /&gt;My feelings are valid.~&lt;br /&gt;My thoughts are appropriate.~&lt;br /&gt;I trust and believe in myself.~&lt;br /&gt;I value my wants and needs.~&lt;br /&gt;I have rights and I am expected to stand up for those rights.~&lt;br /&gt;I do not deserve and will not tolerate, abuse or constant mistreatment.~&lt;br /&gt;The decisions I make, and the way I conduct myself, will reflect my high self-esteem.~&lt;br /&gt;I am unique and special.~&lt;br /&gt;Within me is infinite value.~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I AM ME&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; ~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-115417214567798764?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/115417214567798764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=115417214567798764' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/115417214567798764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/115417214567798764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-am-me.html' title='I Am Me'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-115511511257363269</id><published>2006-08-07T23:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-08-09T17:18:32.596+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cobwebs</title><content type='html'>Guess by now those cobwebs are already thick and needs to be cleaned out...&lt;em&gt;fast!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the only easiest solution to vanish them is by posting a new entry...am I right?&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'll try to do it right away...but no promises. I'll do my very best so as not to upset my own blog site...poor you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just you see, I'll tend and mend you back to normal again...I promise I'll be back!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-115511511257363269?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/115511511257363269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=115511511257363269' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/115511511257363269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/115511511257363269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/08/cobwebs.html' title='Cobwebs'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-115098819701056413</id><published>2006-06-22T22:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-23T10:44:21.033+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chillin' Out</title><content type='html'>Have to admit that I've been pretty busy and feeling very lazy lately, so found myself a shortcut in updating my entry..only after visiting someone's &lt;a href="http://forbidden-planet.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;planet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;..in a way, i 'stole' from there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="450" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;You Are Sunset&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="black"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 212px; HEIGHT: 177px" height="200" src="http://images.blogthings.com/whattimeofdayareyouquiz/sunset.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though you still may be young, you already feel like you've accomplished a lot in life. And you feel free to pave your own path now, and you're not even sure where it will take you. Maybe you'll pursue higher education in a subject you enjoy - or travel the world for a few years. Either way, you approach life with a relaxed, open attitude. And that will take you far!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried it out from &lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whattimeofdayareyouquiz/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;here &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-115098819701056413?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/115098819701056413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=115098819701056413' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/115098819701056413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/115098819701056413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/06/chillin-out.html' title='Chillin&apos; Out'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-115046601292972390</id><published>2006-06-18T13:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T13:51:07.693+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Father's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/bbfeet.7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 95px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px" height="120" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/400/bbfeet.6.jpg" width="80" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Its Father's Day&lt;br /&gt;A day to celebrate...&lt;br /&gt;A day to show your love..&lt;br /&gt;A day to rekindle your lost love..&lt;br /&gt;A day to show your real respect..&lt;br /&gt;A day to show your unforgotten memory..&lt;br /&gt;A day whre its just about your Dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my&lt;em&gt; &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;MAN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; on Father's Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/bbfeet.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On whom my life depends,&lt;br /&gt;My children's cheerful champion:&lt;br /&gt;You are where yearning ends.&lt;br /&gt;My paramour and harlequin,&lt;br /&gt;All I want, and all I can&lt;br /&gt;Not want and be OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A father means so many things,&lt;br /&gt;An understanding heart,&lt;br /&gt;A source of strength and of&lt;br /&gt;Support right from the start.&lt;br /&gt;A constant readiness to help,&lt;br /&gt;In a kind and thoughtful way,&lt;br /&gt;Encouragement and sympathy,&lt;br /&gt;Forgiveness come what may.&lt;br /&gt;A special generosity&lt;br /&gt;And always affection too.&lt;br /&gt;A father means so many things&lt;br /&gt;When he’s a man like &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;YOU&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-115046601292972390?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/115046601292972390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=115046601292972390' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/115046601292972390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/115046601292972390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/06/fathers-day.html' title='Father&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114983940595240437</id><published>2006-06-14T17:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T17:46:57.476+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happen to Know</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/toh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 175px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 79px" height="52" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/toh.jpg" width="158" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You know I have to admit being sinful the past years of my life. A sin I've committed but with no shame I admit. Instead, it gives me the pleasure and given the opportunity I wouldn't want to repent in any other way. I am guilty for being a thief! Yes..i repeat..I'm a thief!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I became a thief that steal ones’ smile, ones’ heart n ones’ trust. I just happen to know where to look, happen to know what to do. I also happen to know that there is a time for everything ( if one can manage) and I happen to know when the right time is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I happen to know the One action that I did has high values that is cherish by that someone or even everyone. I also happen to know that being one to steal ones’ smile means bringing happiness, joy and cheer one when one is down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I happen to know that being able to be the needed is an honor to me. And by being able to try my best to cater of the needy is ones’ wish, &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;MY &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;wish. I happen to know that being able to steal someone’s’ heart, is how and when I can express care and love towards that someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do happen to know how to care as a mental support to the needy. Being able to love is to express how much I would cherish another, that special someone. But being not only the one to know, I am also letting the others know. Especially the special someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;It is never wrong to love another. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;It is just how people would see it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, I happen to know being able to steal ones’ trust. Its just no simple matter that can happen overnight or over the weekend. Nowadays, it is very hard for another to trust another. It is due to many lies that exists in the world. It is either for ones’ benefit or just to cover an ugly fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I happen to know this. Others trust can be given to you willingly. You just have to earn it. As I like to put is as stealing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;“Be a thief, to steal one smile, one heart, one trust”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114983940595240437?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114983940595240437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114983940595240437' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114983940595240437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114983940595240437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/06/happen-to-know.html' title='Happen to Know'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114951443515064284</id><published>2006-06-06T12:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-12T13:35:47.470+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Adioss!!</title><content type='html'>I guess I've been spending too much time blogging, surfing and everything else that is involved with the blog world and the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those long hours spent have taken away my time from my children. And I've made a decision to retire from the blog world to focus and concentrate my time in raising my children. They've been so neglected that they are taking care of each other..they're still so young..how can they manage and how can I do that to them..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just look at them if you dont believe me...(bad momma)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://img225.imageshack.us/img225/3073/cutecat9gh.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://img225.imageshack.us/img225/3073/cutecat9gh.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/CuteCat.png"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114951443515064284?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114951443515064284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114951443515064284' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114951443515064284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114951443515064284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/06/adioss.html' title='Adioss!!'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114890316997318044</id><published>2006-06-02T14:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-12T13:37:25.266+08:00</updated><title type='text'>One Too Many?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Too young to grow up&lt;br /&gt;Too old to be a child&lt;br /&gt;These feelings pent up&lt;br /&gt;For more than awhile…&lt;br /&gt;Too quiet to be noticed&lt;br /&gt;Too loud to be ignored&lt;br /&gt;With all in this life&lt;br /&gt;How can I be bored?&lt;br /&gt;Too thoughtful to give up&lt;br /&gt;Too selfish to care&lt;br /&gt;How much more of this pain&lt;br /&gt;Can my poor soul bear?&lt;br /&gt;Too blessed to be abused&lt;br /&gt;Too violated to feel free&lt;br /&gt;How in the world&lt;br /&gt;Could all of this happen to me?&lt;br /&gt;Too united to be missing&lt;br /&gt;Too lonely to be found&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;I barely know what&lt;br /&gt;Makes my world go round…&lt;br /&gt;Too happy to ignore&lt;br /&gt;Too troubled to acknowledge&lt;br /&gt;How did I end up this way&lt;br /&gt;With all of my knowledge?&lt;br /&gt;Too creative to be ordinary&lt;br /&gt;Too dull to be unique…&lt;br /&gt;All of this uncertainty&lt;br /&gt;Makes me feel like a freak…&lt;br /&gt;Too difficult to be deciphered&lt;br /&gt;Too simple to be misread&lt;br /&gt;Unable to get this chaos&lt;br /&gt;Out of my head…&lt;br /&gt;Too pure to be tainted&lt;br /&gt;Too corrupt to be clean&lt;br /&gt;Powerless to figure out&lt;br /&gt;What all of this means… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114890316997318044?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114890316997318044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114890316997318044' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114890316997318044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114890316997318044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/06/one-too-many.html' title='One Too Many?'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114888095284802461</id><published>2006-05-30T01:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-12T13:37:55.756+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged By A Long MEME</title><content type='html'>I was tagged by a new blogger fren of mine. She insists that I do it. I must be special to &lt;a href="http://www.azfiq.blogspot.com/"&gt;her &lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;'wink'&lt;/span&gt;. Anyways, since I havent been updating for quite sometime, at least this would help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone is welcome to this meme under a condition of informing me after you've done it. This is my sincerest answers that I can give. Now, lets cut it short and begin the long meme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;3 schools you went to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Kindergarten&lt;br /&gt;2. Lower &amp; Upper Schools&lt;br /&gt;3. Business School&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;3 things in your purse / backpack&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. My LV wallet&lt;br /&gt;2. My Burberry's tote bag&lt;br /&gt;3. My Baby's items&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;3 things you do when you're really stressed&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Eat&lt;br /&gt;2. Read&lt;br /&gt;3. Post crap in my blog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;3 places you go on a daily basis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Mailbox&lt;br /&gt;2. Supermarket&lt;br /&gt;3. Playground&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;3 favourite fruits&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The forbidden fruit&lt;br /&gt;2. Seedles fruits&lt;br /&gt;3. Mango&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;3 names you go by&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. SassyLady&lt;br /&gt;2. SassyMomma&lt;br /&gt;3. Sassy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;3 of your favourite food&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Anything that I cook&lt;br /&gt;2. Delifrance Tuna Baguette&lt;br /&gt;3. Chocolate Eclair&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;3 things you are wearing right now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Thong&lt;br /&gt;2. Nightie&lt;br /&gt;3. Oops.. just two things only rite now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;WHOS'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who is in the house with you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Everyone - my hubby &amp;amp; my three kids..dreaming away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who are you thinking about right now?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My baby, who's sound asleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who did you last talk to on the phone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;My best friend MC Hammer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who did you sit to in your 5th period class?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Who cares&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who was the last person you told you loved?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;My beloved baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who do you wish you were with right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;My Beloved Adorable Baby&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who gets on your nerves the most at school?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;The Principal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;WHERE'S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where is your phone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Charging&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where do you sleep?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;In my room of course&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Where is the last place you took a ride to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Hmm...United Square&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;WHAT'S&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What was the last thing you ate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Half Boiled Egg with Bread&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What color shirt are you wearing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What is the closest item near you that is blue?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;My baby's walker&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What do you like best about school?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Break time / Recess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What is your favourite color?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What do you wear most; jeans or shorts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Jeans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What is the last movie you watched?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Assault on Precinct 13...on cable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;WHEN's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When did you start school?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;When I was 5yrs old..kindergarten&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When did you last go to the mall?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Last week to buy my son's 4yr old bday present&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When did you last burn something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Yesterday, a love letter from an old flame..hee (sorry honey)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;3 people to do this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://www.princeromp.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;CyberPrince&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://www.mamijarum.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;MamiJarum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;a href="http://www.silentwaves.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CoffeeFairy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So guy and gals, give me your best answers pleaseee!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114888095284802461?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114888095284802461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114888095284802461' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114888095284802461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114888095284802461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/05/tagged-by-long-meme.html' title='Tagged By A Long MEME'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114829675920347036</id><published>2006-05-24T13:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-25T23:55:57.490+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Slow Dancing</title><content type='html'>In this fast paced world, if you're slow you'll be left way behind. But it doesnt really mean that you have to follow every fast footsteps infront of you. Just do it at you own pace where you feel comfortable enough to move. Dont want to miss anything that's happenning and going on around you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just stop for awhile take in a few deep breath, enjoy the fresh air and the wondeful scenic around you. And do some wondering about these thoughts:-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Have you ever watched kids&lt;br /&gt;On a merry-go-round?&lt;br /&gt;Or listened to the rain&lt;br /&gt;Slapping on the ground?&lt;br /&gt;Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?&lt;br /&gt;Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?&lt;br /&gt;You better slow down.&lt;br /&gt;Don't dance so fast&lt;br /&gt;Time is short.&lt;br /&gt;The music won't last.&lt;br /&gt;Do you run through each day&lt;br /&gt;On the fly?&lt;br /&gt;When you ask How are you?&lt;br /&gt;Do you hear the reply?&lt;br /&gt;When the day is done&lt;br /&gt;Do you lie in your bed&lt;br /&gt;With the next hundred chores&lt;br /&gt;Running through your head?&lt;br /&gt;You'd better slow down&lt;br /&gt;Don't dance so fast.&lt;br /&gt;Time is short.&lt;br /&gt;The music won't last.&lt;br /&gt;Ever told your child,&lt;br /&gt;We'll do it tomorrow?&lt;br /&gt;And in your haste,&lt;br /&gt;Not see his sorrow?&lt;br /&gt;Ever lost touch,&lt;br /&gt;Let a good friendship die&lt;br /&gt;Cause you never had time&lt;br /&gt;To call and say,"Hi"&lt;br /&gt;You'd better slow down.&lt;br /&gt;Don't dance so fast.&lt;br /&gt;Time is short.&lt;br /&gt;The music won't last.&lt;br /&gt;When you run so fast to get somewhere&lt;br /&gt;You miss half the fun of getting there.&lt;br /&gt;When you worry and hurry through your day,&lt;br /&gt;It is like an unopened gift....&lt;br /&gt;Thrown away.&lt;br /&gt;Life is not a race.&lt;br /&gt;Do take it slower&lt;br /&gt;Hear the music&lt;br /&gt;Before the song is over.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114829675920347036?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114829675920347036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114829675920347036' title='95 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114829675920347036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114829675920347036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/05/slow-dancing.html' title='Slow Dancing'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>95</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114734469479055181</id><published>2006-05-17T23:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-18T00:21:45.000+08:00</updated><title type='text'>More on MEN</title><content type='html'>Unlike my previous post, there's a slight different here. I dont go around bashing men. This is more on advice to ponder over for the women (and men!) of the world, looking for Mr Right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I'm right, I'm right, but if not then so be it. Its just my opinion that I've 'collected' from around me and see from what I saw. If you're not happy, then too bad. ALL the women out there, take extra note of this and keep inside that intelligent brain of yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;If a man wants you, nothing can keep him away. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If he doesn't want you, nothing can make him stay. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Stop making excuses for a man and his behaviour. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Allow your intuition (or spirit) to save you from heartache. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Stop trying to change yourself for a relationship that's not meant to be. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Slower is better. Never live your life for a man before you find what makes you truly happy. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If a relationship ends because the man was not treating you as you deserve then heck no, you can't "be friends." &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A friend wouldn't mistreat a friend. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't settle. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If you feel like he is stringing you along, then he probably is. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't stay because you think "it will get better." &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You'll be mad at yourself a year later for staying when things are not better. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The only person you can control in a relationship is you. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Avoid men who've got a bunch of children by a bunch of different women. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;He didn't marry them when he got them pregnant, why would he treat you any differently?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Always have your own set of friends separate from his. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Maintain boundaries in how a guy treats you. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If something bothers you, speak up. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Never let a man know everything. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;He will use it against you later. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You cannot change a man's behaviour. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Change comes from within. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't EVER make him feel he is more important than you are... even if he has more education or in a better job.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do not make him into a quasi-god. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;He is a man, nothing more nothing less. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Never let a man define who you are. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Never borrow someone else's man. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If he cheated with you, he'll cheat on you. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;A man will only treat you the way you ALLOW him to treat you. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;All men are NOT dogs. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You should not be the one doing all the bending ...compromise is a two way street.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You need time to heal between relationships ...there is nothing cute about baggage ... deal with your issues before pursuing a new relationship.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You should never look for someone to COMPLETE you ... a relationship consists of two WHOLE individuals ... look for someone complimentary ...not supplementary. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dating is fun ... even if he doesn't turn out to be Mr. Right. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Make him miss you sometimes ... when a man always knows where you are, and you're always readily available to him - he takes it for granted. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Never move into his mother's house. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Never co-sign for a man. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don't fully commit to a man who doesn't give you everything that you need. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Keep him in your radar but get to know others &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lastly, Love yourself first before you Love him&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think that should wrap everythng up. Now to go handle my MAN.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114734469479055181?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114734469479055181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114734469479055181' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114734469479055181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114734469479055181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/05/more-on-men.html' title='More on MEN'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114762127273647611</id><published>2006-05-14T23:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-14T23:51:30.366+08:00</updated><title type='text'>All You Need to Know</title><content type='html'>This is what happens when I get &lt;em&gt;STRESSED&lt;/em&gt; up. Its much much worse than me getting bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I just have to write this, its All you need to know about &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;MAN&lt;/span&gt;. I've been keeping this thought for quite sometime now. Just have to express them right now before they explode inside my head!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May it be you brother, you friend, your cousin, your father, your uncle, your husband...whoever it is. They all have the same kind of genetic disorder running in their blood veins and straight into their brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have noticed in a few blogs out there somewhere, wives condenming their husband at one point and the next day with a new topic, praising and expressing their truly endless love towards their husband. And then there's the girlfriend who's frustrated and going crazy over her boyfriends' behaviour. Who simply ignores her and prefer to be with his friends. There's also the mother who's frustrated over her son's attitude who treats and acknowledged her whenever he wishes to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The morale of the story here is how &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;MAN&lt;/span&gt; from boys behave towards us &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;WOMAN&lt;/span&gt;. They are so full of insensitivity towards &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;OUR Feelings&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Our Needs&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Our Dislikes&lt;/span&gt;, they prefer to ignore and pretend they dont know what's going on with our emotions right here right now. They truly wants their own feelings to be acknowledged at &lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;ALL&lt;/span&gt; time without any prejudice whatsoever...blah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then when they sulk, its more worse than us &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;WOMAN&lt;/span&gt; do! You can see their faces so scary and their reaction as if ready to hit someone...oh boy...its almost like the sky has fallen down to earth...duh. Dont forget about when you cant meet their requirements, they'll nag and question you as if you're a criminal. Especially when you accidentally forget them...harhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To add the spice up, &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;MAN&lt;/span&gt; usually accuses the &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;WOMAN&lt;/span&gt; for being unfaithful. But, the actual truth is, they are the ones who have been hiding their scandalous and infidelity act behind us. How great is their act?? If they are nominated for a grammy/oscar award, I bet you, their shelves/showcases would have been full with all kind of trophies. Better than any oscar/grammy award winner actors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now its getting hotter, what about meeting your &lt;em&gt;sexual desire&lt;/em&gt;? Do you still want me to continue? Nah..I dont think so...you continue the story for me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114762127273647611?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114762127273647611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114762127273647611' title='90 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114762127273647611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114762127273647611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/05/all-you-need-to-know.html' title='All You Need to Know'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>90</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114734369708559809</id><published>2006-05-11T18:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-11T18:34:57.100+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn It!</title><content type='html'>Well, as everyone out there know, I was terribly bored with absolute no idea how to amuse myself yesterday. So I decided to grab myself a pack of chips in the kitchen cabinet. Usually, I was careful and alert before going to the kitchen or doing any opening of the cabinets. But, because of the extreme boredom, I had put aside those feelings and walk with my head down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I extended my hand to open the cabinet and poof, on my left temple, it landed, its claws slightly pressed against my skin. I jumped up and screamed in shocked and ticklish.  That damn thing, how dare, 'it' jumped onto me. Look at 'it'. I wish I could have been fast enough to squish 'it'. Eewww..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/lizard011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 271px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 182px" height="233" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/lizard011.jpg" width="308" 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/17615371-114734369708559809?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114734369708559809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114734369708559809' title='85 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114734369708559809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114734369708559809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/05/damn-it.html' title='Damn It!'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>85</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114715392115251542</id><published>2006-05-10T16:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T16:23:21.596+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Twist &amp; Shout</title><content type='html'>My boredom have got the better of me. I'm really bored up to my neck, even my left brain isnt functioning that well..harhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought to myself, must find something to amuse me or entertaining to 'wake me up'. But nothing seems to work. But then I spotted this tongue twisters. I tried it out just for the sake of finding cure for my boredom. Guess what... now it makes me agitated!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of the tongue twisters that 'provoked' my emotion. Try saying them as fast as you can!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;She sells seashells by the sea shore. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;The shells she sells are surely seashells.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;So if she sells seashells by the sea shore,I'm sure she sells sea shore shells.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;If two witches would watch two watches,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;which witch would watch which watch?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Big black bugs bleed blue black blood &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;but baby black bugs bleed blue blood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't get enough? According to &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tongue-twister"&gt;Wikipedia&lt;/a&gt;, the following is supposedly the hardest tongue twister in the English language.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;The sixth sick sheikh's sixth sheep's sick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;so six slick sheiks sold six sick sheep six silk sheets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can go unravel yourself now; if you're still up for the challenge and wanna try out your patient (or punishment, depending on your nature) then you can try &lt;a href="http://www.geocities.com/Athens/8136/tonguetwisters.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; out!&lt;br /&gt;I quit!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114715392115251542?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114715392115251542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114715392115251542' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114715392115251542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114715392115251542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/05/twist-shout.html' title='Twist &amp; Shout'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114715135055241686</id><published>2006-05-10T01:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-10T16:10:58.166+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Another One</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I was blog hopping and chanced upon another one of those meme. I was telling myself then, not another test. But, since I was already bored and yeah why not, Just Do It!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The accuracy of the percentage or description may not all be true. Cos I've done some analysis on it, so it cant be true. Why not you try it  out and tell me how yours turns out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;table style="BORDER-RIGHT: #333333 1px solid; BORDER-TOP: #333333 1px solid; MARGIN: 10px; BORDER-LEFT: #333333 1px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #333333 1px solid" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; BACKGROUND: #ffddbb; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; MARGIN: 0px; FONT: bold 16px sans-serif; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; COLOR: #000000; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; TEXT-ALIGN: center" colspan="2"&gt;This Is My Life, Rated&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: #333333 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #333333 1px solid; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; BACKGROUND: #ffffcc; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; FONT: bold 18px sans-serif; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; WIDTH: 85px; COLOR: #000000; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: #333333 1px solid; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;Life:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #333333 1px solid; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: #ffffff; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; FONT: bold 18px sans-serif; VERTICAL-ALIGN: middle; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; WIDTH: 240px; COLOR: #000000; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: #333333 1px solid; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: middle; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" height="12" src="http://www.monkeyquiz.com/img/greblubar.gif" width="134" /&gt; 6.7&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: #333333 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; BACKGROUND: #ffffcc; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; FONT: bold 12px sans-serif; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; WIDTH: 85px; COLOR: #000000; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;Mind:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: #ffffff; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; FONT: bold 12px sans-serif; VERTICAL-ALIGN: middle; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; WIDTH: 240px; COLOR: #000000; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: middle; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" height="12" src="http://www.monkeyquiz.com/img/greblubar.gif" width="130" /&gt; 6.5&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: #333333 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; BACKGROUND: #ffffcc; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; FONT: bold 12px sans-serif; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; WIDTH: 85px; COLOR: #000000; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;Body:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: #ffffff; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; FONT: bold 12px sans-serif; VERTICAL-ALIGN: middle; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; WIDTH: 240px; COLOR: #000000; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: middle; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" height="12" src="http://www.monkeyquiz.com/img/greblubar.gif" width="140" /&gt; 7&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: #333333 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; BACKGROUND: #ffffcc; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; FONT: bold 12px sans-serif; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; WIDTH: 85px; COLOR: #000000; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;Spirit:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: #ffffff; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; FONT: bold 12px sans-serif; VERTICAL-ALIGN: middle; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; WIDTH: 240px; COLOR: #000000; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: middle; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" height="12" src="http://www.monkeyquiz.com/img/grebar.gif" width="128" /&gt; 6.4&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: #333333 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; BACKGROUND: #ffffcc; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; FONT: bold 12px sans-serif; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; WIDTH: 85px; COLOR: #000000; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;Friends/Family:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: #ffffff; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; FONT: bold 12px sans-serif; VERTICAL-ALIGN: middle; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; WIDTH: 240px; COLOR: #000000; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: middle; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" height="12" src="http://www.monkeyquiz.com/img/grebar.gif" width="126" /&gt; 6.3&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: #333333 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; BACKGROUND: #ffffcc; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; FONT: bold 12px sans-serif; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; WIDTH: 85px; COLOR: #000000; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;Love:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: #ffffff; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; FONT: bold 12px sans-serif; VERTICAL-ALIGN: middle; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; WIDTH: 240px; COLOR: #000000; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: middle; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" height="12" src="http://www.monkeyquiz.com/img/greblubar.gif" width="146" /&gt; 7.3&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: #333333 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; BACKGROUND: #ffffcc; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; FONT: bold 12px sans-serif; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; WIDTH: 85px; COLOR: #000000; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;Finance:&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: medium none; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: #ffffff; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; FONT: bold 12px sans-serif; VERTICAL-ALIGN: middle; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; WIDTH: 240px; COLOR: #000000; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 1px solid; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: #000000 1px solid; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN: 0px; VERTICAL-ALIGN: middle; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 1px solid" height="12" src="http://www.monkeyquiz.com/img/grebar.gif" width="120" /&gt; 6&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="BORDER-RIGHT: medium none; PADDING-RIGHT: 5px; BORDER-TOP: #333333 1px solid; PADDING-LEFT: 5px; BACKGROUND: #ffeedd; PADDING-BOTTOM: 5px; MARGIN: 0px; FONT: bold 14px sans-serif; BORDER-LEFT: medium none; PADDING-TOP: 5px; BORDER-BOTTOM: medium none; TEXT-ALIGN: center" colspan="2"&gt;&lt;a style="COLOR: #0000ff" href="http://www.monkeyquiz.com/life/rate_my_life.html"&gt;Take the Rate My Life Quiz&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114715135055241686?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114715135055241686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114715135055241686' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114715135055241686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114715135055241686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/05/not-another-one.html' title='Not Another One'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114692988761626745</id><published>2006-05-07T20:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-07T21:22:37.520+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fork &amp; Spoon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/fork%20spoon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/fork%20spoon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Never say 'spoon &amp; fork' say it 'fork &amp;amp; spoon'.&lt;br /&gt;In Singapore you should never say 'spoon and fork' or 'knife and fork'. Singaporeans are very ordered and tidy people and they like to put everything in alphabetical order as much as possible. They like it ryhme when its as good as they hear it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, spoon and fork becomes 'fork and spoon' and a knife and fork is a 'fork and knife'. That’s one theory. Another explanation is that these colloquialisms are a joke left over from Singapore’s colonial days. In the 1920s some British soldiers and other pompous foreign grits couldn’t or wouldn’t get used to the idea of using chopsticks and a ceramic spoon. So, if offered these utensils at a kopitiam ( Coffeeshop ) they would shout 'bring me a fucking 'knife and fork'. All this is because the etiquette of dining usually have two spoons, two forks and a knife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now despite being multilingual, most Singaporeans have little or no knowledge of Anglo Saxon. So they would not know anything about this expletive beginning with the letter ‘F’ ( fucking ) or the use of it. This usually meant that a screaming customer ended up with a knife and two forks. "A fork and knife and a fork" you got wat i mean?.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a short while, or it may have been years, the puzzled Singaporean waiters and other serving staff got used to the idea that actually only one of these two forks was ever used or required. So they started to bring just a fork and a knife whenever they were asked either for a &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"knife and fork"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; or a &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"fork &amp; knife and fork".&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Why dont they just say it " Gimme two forks and that fucking knife and please...hurry up!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no evidence that anyone was ever asked to fetch a &lt;strong&gt;fork &amp;amp; spoon and fork&lt;/strong&gt;. The phrase “fork and spoon” just got adopted by analogy. Out of these two theories, I know the second one to be the most likely explanation. It was told to me by a Bavarian bodybuilder taking a break at a beer bar in Boat Quay. He had heard the story directly from a minor Singaporean mountain climber. And he was sure it was true. Therefore it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...we are just too carried away by the colonised's ideology.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114692988761626745?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114692988761626745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114692988761626745' title='85 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114692988761626745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114692988761626745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/05/fork-spoon.html' title='Fork &amp; Spoon'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>85</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114657547717737715</id><published>2006-05-05T16:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-07T21:33:09.063+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You're Beautiful</title><content type='html'>I had promised my little Princess that she could have her ears pierced. Although I prefer to 'preserve' her natural child beauty till she reach puberty. But she's been nagging me the whole weekend, I had no choice but succumb to her wishes...hmmm kids&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I brought her to a jewellery shop to get the piercing done. And here's the result.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/stud.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/puteri.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 186px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px" height="257" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/puteri.4.jpg" width="238" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/puteri.3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 161px" height="237" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/puteri.3.jpg" width="332" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/stud.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/stud.4.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114657547717737715?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114657547717737715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114657547717737715' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114657547717737715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114657547717737715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/05/youre-beautiful.html' title='You&apos;re Beautiful'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114465685304658077</id><published>2006-04-26T23:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T00:09:50.633+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Four Letter Word</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/eyelovu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 193px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 64px" height="84" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/eyelovu.jpg" width="178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm feeling lovey dovey this past few days. Maybe its the hormones that's playing up and down my system. I just felt like posting a topic about &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt;. Its nothing romantic actually, just expressing and describing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I truly believed that it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. It's the four letter L word. It's the one syllable word that causes butterflies to flutter in my stomache, make my heartbeat skip faster, and my pulse quicken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the one word that causes my tears of joy to flow, washing away all my sorrows from my heart through the windows of my soul. And it's also the word that causes me pain and worry inadvertently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, Love at first sight is when a mother beholds her child for the very first time and a lifetime pledge of unflailing love which is promised in that one single glance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for sibling love is the one you share with the brother who teases you mercilessly, hides your most prized teddy, and sniggers when he pulls your ponytail loose in a mall, but doesn't hesitate to avenge the first guy to trample over your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whereas Puppy love is the little boy who gave you your first flower in kindergarten. And in return, your friends will start teasing you and make you blush from your puppy love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incomprehensible love is being Daddy's little girl no matter how old you are. It's when Daddy walks his little girl down the aisle while remembering some time not so long ago when he was walking her to nursery and she was whimpering. This time, it's Daddy who has a suspicious sheen of tears in his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me First love is that heady feeling I get whenever I think of that special person. Of being an eloquent speaker but when I come face to face with that person, my tongue twists into knots and then make an inane fool of myself, but he laughs and comprehends what I'm saying anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's also the time when Cupid chooses to practise his archery skills and make me feel the tugging in my heart, the place where his arrow struck a chord. True love is when I know the receiver isn't Mister Universe or Superman or the Hunk from HotBods or he, a hopeless sports fan whereas I know I can't tolerate a bunch of men kicking balls in a field but loving that person anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me it's finding that quick "goodbye, see you tonight, love" note on the fridge in the morning, holding hands while watching the evening news or finding fulfilment in sitting sprawled on the floor doing jigsaw puzzles and finding that the best pastime of all. It's accepting someone as a whole, flaws, imperfections, cutesy antics and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, there is also Lost love, where those cherished memories that will always be tucked in some corner of my heart. In never regretting anything, but taking it all as a sweet, surreal experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;There's no end in LOVE-ing you my hubby and my dearest children&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;" SassyLady /SassyMomma&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114465685304658077?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114465685304658077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114465685304658077' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114465685304658077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114465685304658077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/04/four-letter-word.html' title='The Four Letter Word'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114569386499171467</id><published>2006-04-22T21:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T22:43:25.780+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tell Me Why??</title><content type='html'>I've noticed that whenever I would post a certain topic or story, immediately the next day or two days later there'll be someone else who would do the same thing (^v^) . Be it on jokes, childhood days and there's a few others too...like post photos &amp;amp; skin layout are not spared either.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not quite sure whether it is pure coincidental or what...? Hmmm, but if it's true, than its an honour for me to be a trendsetter. So...for this week, I'll be posting mostly craps!!... (^o^).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are 14 silly yet logical questions that needs to be answered. Can someone help me answer them? I know someone will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why are people scared of mice but love Mickey Mouse?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why is vanilla ice-cream white when vanilla extract is brown?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If marriage means you fell in love, does divorce mean you climbed out?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If shampoo comes in so many colours, why is the lather on your head always white?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;On a hamburger bun, why is the top half of the bun is always bigger than the bottom one?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How can sweet and sour sauce be sweet and sour at the same time?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If a rabbit's foot is a lucky charm that some people carry with them, what happened to the footless rabbit?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why do we say "bye bye" but not "hi hi"?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If Dracula has no reflection, how come he always has such a straight parting in his hair?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why is it called pineapple, when there is neither pine or apple in it?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why is it called eggplant when there's no egg in it?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why is a blackboard green?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why is it good to be a daddy's girl, but bad to be a mummy's boy?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114569386499171467?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114569386499171467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114569386499171467' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114569386499171467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114569386499171467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/04/tell-me-why.html' title='Tell Me Why??'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114567282292222579</id><published>2006-04-22T10:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T10:38:18.266+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its Me...Its Me...</title><content type='html'>I picked this up from &lt;a href="http://forbidden-planet.blogspot.com/"&gt;Montreal Dude's &lt;/a&gt;blog. At last there is something that really desribes me to the exact self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle"  style="color:#9cdcdc;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#c9eaea"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 119px; HEIGHT: 116px" height="100" src="http://images.blogthings.com/thefivefactorvaluestest/values.jpg" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Loyalty:&lt;br /&gt;You value loyalty a fair amount.You're loyal to your friends... to a point.But if they cross you, you will reconsider your loyalties.Staying true to others is important to you, but you also stay true to yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Honesty:&lt;br /&gt;You value honesty a fair amount.You're honest when you can be, but you aren't a stickler for it.If a little white lie will make a situation more comfortable, you'll go for it.In the end, you mostly care about "situational integrity."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Generosity:&lt;br /&gt;You value generosity a fair amount.You are all about giving, as long as there's some give and take.Supportive and kind, you don't mind helping out a friend in need.But you know when you've given too much. You have no problem saying "no"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Humility:&lt;br /&gt;You value humility highly.You have the self-confidence to be happy with who you are.And you don't need to seek praise to make yourself feel better.You're very modest, and you're keep the drama factor low.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Tolerance:&lt;br /&gt;You value tolerance highly.Not only do you enjoy the company of those very different from you...You do all that you can to seek it out interesting and unique friends.You think there are many truths in life, and you're open to many of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/thefivefactorvaluestest/"&gt;The Five Factor Value Test&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114567282292222579?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114567282292222579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114567282292222579' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114567282292222579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114567282292222579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/04/its-meits-me.html' title='Its Me...Its Me...'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114465542291640831</id><published>2006-04-20T08:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-20T21:23:28.833+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids...&amp; Mr Bean</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/mrbean.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I'm so stressed up the past few days, thought I'd make myself happy by reading some jokes, comics and anythin about humour. I had picked up a few and thought post it in my blog to share with my frens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Teacher Teaching Good Manners&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During class, a teacher was trying to teach good manners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher asks the students:&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: "Michael, if you were on a date, having dinner with a nice young lady, how would you tell her that you have to go to the bathroom?&lt;br /&gt;Michael: "Just a minute, I have to go piss.&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: " That would be rude and impolite!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: "What about you John,how would you say it?"&lt;br /&gt;John: " I am sorry, but I really need to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back."&lt;br /&gt;The teacher: " That's better, but it's still not very nice to say the word bathroom at the table.&lt;br /&gt;And you Peter, are you able to use your intelligence for once and show us your good manners?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter: " I would say: Darling, may I please be excused for a moment, I have to shake hands with a very dear friend of mine, whom I hope you'll get to meet after our dinner."...duh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/killercat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 157px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 128px" height="140" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/killercat.jpg" width="148" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Dead Cat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Kindergarten pupil told his teacher that he had found a dead cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teacher asked the pupil: "How do you know that the cat was dead?"&lt;br /&gt;The pupil answered" Because I pissed in its ear and it didnt move"&lt;br /&gt;"You did WHAT?!" the teacher exclaimed in surprise.&lt;br /&gt;"You know," explained the boy, "I leaned over and went 'Psst!' and it didnt move."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Mischief Boy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An exasperated mother, whose son was always getting into mischief, finally asked him "How do you expect to go to Heaven?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy thought it over and replied:"Well, I'll run in and out and keep slamming the door until Saint Peter says, 'For heaven's sake, Dylan, come in or stay out!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Never Jump the Gun&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Woman wanted to call her husband on his handphone but discovered that the battery on her handphone was dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she instructed her young son to use his phoe to pass an urgent message to his daddy. After junior called, he told his mummy that a woman had picked up daddy's phone the three times he tried calling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angry and furious, she waited impatiently for her husband to return from work, and, upon seeing him in the driveway, she rushed out and gave him a tight slap. And then another, for good measure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People in the neighbourhood saw the commotion and came out to see what would develop further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noticing the gathering of neighbours, the angry woman asked her son to tell everybody what the woman on the phone had said to him when he called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Junior said: "The Woman's voice said, "The subscriber you have dialled is not available at the moment. Please try again later."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;George Washington&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: George Washington not only chopped his father's cherry tree but also admitted it. Why didnt his father punish him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Louie: Because George still had the axe in his hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Composition&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: Clyde, your composition on "My Dog" is exactly the same as your brother's. How come?&lt;br /&gt;Clyde: Because we share the same dog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;What say u?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teacher: Harold, what do you call a person who keeps on talking when people are no longer interested?&lt;br /&gt;Harold: A teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/mr%20bean.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 163px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px" height="149" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/mr%20bean.jpg" width="124" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Fun&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;With&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Mr&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;Bean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Brain Tumor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Doctor: You have a brain tumor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Mr Bean: Yes!! (jumps in joy)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Doctor: Did you understand what I just told you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Mr Bean: Yes of course, do you think I'm dumb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Doctor: Then why are you so happy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Mr Bean: I have a brain!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In Primary School&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Teacher: What is 5 plus 4?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Mr Bean: 9&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Teacher: What is 4 plus 5?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Mr Bean: Ah, you are trying to fool me, by reversing the numbers eh? The answers is 6!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;In A Drug Store&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Mr Bean: I'd like some vitamins for my grandson.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Clerk: Sir, vitamin A,B or C?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Mr Bean: Any will do, my grandson doesnt know the alphabet yet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;An An ATM Machine&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Friend: What are you looking at?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Mr Bean:I know your PIN number.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Friend: Alright, what is my PIN number if you saw it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Mr Bean: Four asterisks (****)!&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/17615371-114465542291640831?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114465542291640831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114465542291640831' title='82 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114465542291640831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114465542291640831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/04/kids-mr-bean.html' title='Kids...&amp; Mr Bean'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>82</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114492407818171099</id><published>2006-04-14T13:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-14T16:21:27.833+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Me &amp; Sports Car</title><content type='html'>I was blog hopping as usual, when I chance upon a quiz or questionnaire on Which Sports Car Are You? It looks very interesting to me and thought I'd give it a try. Anyways no harm done in trying out something new rite? I guess we'll have to see which of the sports car am I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h2&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal;color:#ff0000;" &gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm a Chevrolet Corvette!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.tomorrowland.us/sportscar/images/corvette.jpg" /&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;You're a classic - powerful, athletic, and competitive. You're all about winning the race and getting the job done. While you have a practical everyday side, you get wild when anyone pushes your pedal. You hate to lose, but you hardly ever do.&lt;/b&gt; &lt;p&gt;Take the &lt;a href="http://www.tomorrowland.us/sportscar/"&gt;Which Sports Car Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/a&gt; quiz. &lt;p&gt;Although the description isnt really the exact of me but very very close to who I really am. I kind of like if I were a Chevrolet Corvette...very sassy...dont you think so??...hee &lt;p&gt;Oh yeah, Happy Holidays to all who are celebrating Good Friday and a happy weekend ahead. &lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114492407818171099?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114492407818171099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114492407818171099' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114492407818171099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114492407818171099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/04/me-sports-car.html' title='Me &amp; Sports Car'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114476741246052095</id><published>2006-04-12T00:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T23:44:16.460+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged - About Me</title><content type='html'>I was tagged by Prince Romp just because he was tagged by someone earlier. I'm not quite sure what tagging is all really about. Bet its something to do with a 'linking' or 'chain' letter sort of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway I'm not into this mambo jumbo tagging stuff . Never been involved in one and dont intend to either. But for the sake of my good friend and for the sake of fun, what the heck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its actually on  &lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Four Things About Me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Four jobs I have had in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Chef&lt;br /&gt;2. Marketing Manager&lt;br /&gt;3. Accountant&lt;br /&gt;4. 'B' job&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Four movies i would watch over and over again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Grease&lt;br /&gt;2. Troy&lt;br /&gt;3. As Good As It Gets&lt;br /&gt;4. Titanic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Four places that I have lived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. My mom's house&lt;br /&gt;2. My house&lt;br /&gt;3. My house&lt;br /&gt;4. My house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Four Tv shows I love to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Survivor&lt;br /&gt;2. The Amazing Race&lt;br /&gt;3. Extreme Makeover&lt;br /&gt;4. Days of Our Lives&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Four places that I have been on vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Bali&lt;br /&gt;2. Perth&lt;br /&gt;3. Lake Toba&lt;br /&gt;4. Genting Highlands&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Four websites I visit daily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. My emails&lt;br /&gt;2. My own blogsite&lt;br /&gt;3. Louis Vuitton&lt;br /&gt;4. Youngnutrition&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Four places I'd rather be right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Spa&lt;br /&gt;2. Jacuzzi&lt;br /&gt;3. Bed&lt;br /&gt;4. Heaven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;Four friends who I tagged that I think will respond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...No one in mind (any volunteers?)...hee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114476741246052095?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114476741246052095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114476741246052095' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114476741246052095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114476741246052095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/04/tagged-about-me_12.html' title='Tagged - About Me'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114465624420459623</id><published>2006-04-11T22:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T22:31:00.986+08:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Donts After Meal</title><content type='html'>I was at the library this afternoon returning some books that I have borrowed. Anyway the expiry date is nearing so better return it before I get fined. Since the children are at school and the baby is with my hubby (he's not going to the office today), so I have a couple of hours to spare...alone...yeayy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got to the returning section at the library and finished processing everyting. I was about to take my leave when this book caught my eyes. Dont know why, but seemed interesting to me. (may be boring to you...what the heck!) Grab the book and head to a corner seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The book itself covers many chapters on our daily eating lifestyle and diet. Looks like I have to borrow this book. Time is not on my side, so have to finish reading it at home. Before that I only manage to catch a glimpse on this;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;Seven Things Not To Do After A Meal&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't smoke&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Experiment from experts proves that smoking a cigarette after a meal is comparable to smoking 10 cigarettes (chances of cancer are more). To those smokers, consider this ok...better still, STOP smoking NOW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't eat fruits immediately&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By immediately eating fruits after meals will cause stomach to be bloated with air. Therefore take your fruit 1 to 2 hour after meal or 1hr before meal. ( We learn something new everyday, dont we)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't drink tea&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because tea leaves contain a high content of acid. This substance will cause the Protein content in the food we consume to be hardened thus difficult to digest...hmm..a good excuse to just stick to coffee...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't loosen your belt&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loosening the belt after a meal will easily cause the intestine to be twisted &amp; blocked. Instead, wear something loose or better still dont wear anything at all...harhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Don't bathe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bathing will cause the increase of blood flow to the hands, legs &amp;amp; body. Thus the amount of blood around the stomach will therefore decrease.This will weaken the digestive system in our stomach...and usually after bathing you will feel hungry again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Don't walk about&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People always say that after a meal walk a hundred steps and you will live till 99. In actual fact this is not true. Walking will cause the digestive system to be unable to absorb the nutrition from the food we intake...and dont run, jump, jog or anything associated to it either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Don't sleep immediately&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dont go to sleep immediately after your meal because the food we intake will not be able to digest properly. Thus will lead to gastric &amp;amp; infection in our intestine. Furthermore, you wont be able to sleep on a full stomach...thin sensibly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe we have unintentionally made one of the above of as our daily routine thingy after every meal. So, by reading the above facts, hope we can change our 'after meal habits' towards a better health...dont you agree...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, have to take my bathe first before eating my chilled watermelon...yum yum! Adios!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114465624420459623?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114465624420459623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114465624420459623' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114465624420459623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114465624420459623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/04/7-donts-after-meal.html' title='7 Donts After Meal'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114429464939422917</id><published>2006-04-06T06:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T12:06:58.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Special Day..Hurray!!!</title><content type='html'>Its a very special day to someone close to me. And therefore I dedicate today's topic to wish him a Happy Birthday with all the best wishes to come true and long life ahead. May today be filled with sweet memories and never be forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me do some introduction about him, he's sweet, kind and a gentleman. He is also full of charisma, dreams, very intelligent yet full of humour. We have chemistry as friends...well, yeah, all friends do have cat fights and so do we, but nothing of serious till we have to defame, be sarcastic or throw hate mails at each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're two sensible adults. We get along very well and I hope we can stay like that forever. Let me also describe his looks, he have this starry gorgeous eyes, sweet handsome smile and broad masculine body. It would turn womens heads when he passes by...ok enough!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the period of our friendship, what I love most is his TLC towards the people around him. He would put others needs before him...where can you get a friend like that man! And if you want to know more about him, you could 'see' him in action &lt;a href="http://www.princeromp.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to you my good young handsome friend....&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY&lt;/span&gt;!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114429464939422917?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114429464939422917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114429464939422917' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114429464939422917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114429464939422917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/04/special-dayhurray.html' title='Special Day..Hurray!!!'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114347496542430226</id><published>2006-03-29T23:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T14:21:34.933+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicken of  Wrinkles Part ll</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/young.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/200/young.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me a few minutes to decide on which product to use as a cleanser. In the end I decided to use my whitening cleanser which is foam free, deo free and most important of all, suitable for all skin types, including sensitive skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is why i always remember not to overwash my face becos tap water contains chlorine or other chemicals used in water purification. Instead, I've had a filter installed (if you dont have one, you can use purified water)...solely because the chlorine might be irritating...I never wash my face in hot water, it dries my skin...(and can also scald the skin) only warm water , as it helps to open pores while cold water does the opposite. I only practice using mild facial cleansers that contain moisturizing ingredients...but at the same time I also check its containments, for 'ingredients' that I'm allergic to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've stayed away from soap, especially deo soaps, which are very drying to the skin. After washing my face, I'll pat it dry, before patting it again with toner then at which I will apply my moisturizer. I always buy water based lotion which is best for moisturizing my skin without clogging the pores. I also know that antioxidants help reduce the signs of aging on the skin. These are found in food, vitamins and skin care products. So ladies, cut down on your sweets and chocolates...that means me too! haiz..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, I found out that the best sources are vitamins A, C &amp;amp; E. These antioxidants destroy free radicals, which causes cellular damage, age the skin and cause skin cancer. There is also evidence that these vitamins A,C and E works best when combined. For example, vitamins C and E works better together than either vitamin alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was told that Vitamin A is often found in both prescriptions and over the counter topical ointments. The Retin A is a prescription topical cream that contains vitamin A. Sorry cant mention any particular brands in particular cos that'll be promoting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To purchase tis cream, a prescription is needed from the dermatologist. What is so important about Retin A?? It actually treats wrinkling caused by aging and sun exposure. It takes between two and six months to see noticeable improvement...(some patience is needed) The not so good part is about the side effects. There will be redness, burning, itching and scaling, which can last for a few months...(bear with it, if you want smooth flawless skin) In addition, it also might cause photosensitivity... if it sounds scary, then dont try it...dont want to get blamed later on (no insurance coverage)...harhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to avoid sunlight by wearing a sunscreen when outside in the sun. Besides that I also carry my umbrella and shades with me...hehe. But for those wearing foundation, I suggest find one with SPF protection, or even for your pressed powder or watever else that u usually apply on your face...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;For pregnant women I advise do not use this cream (Retin A), as it can cause birth defects in the unbornchild. So, just stick to your umbrella and shades for the time being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides that other options to be chosen from is Retinol, which is a natural form of vitamin A. There are fewer side effects with Retinol than with the stronger Retin A. Using antioxidant creams containing vitamin C or E may increase the benefits of retinol... These are sometimes found combined in one cream, or can be applied separately...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what are you waiting for?? Go get started...I know I'm going.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114347496542430226?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114347496542430226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114347496542430226' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114347496542430226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114347496542430226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/03/chicken-of-wrinkles-part-ll.html' title='Chicken of  Wrinkles Part ll'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114181721456929771</id><published>2006-03-27T22:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T00:09:23.146+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicken of Wrinkles??</title><content type='html'>When i woke up this morning, my bedroom mirror gave me quite a terrible shocked! Did i develop wrinkles on my face? Oh nooo. Amidst our daily life and routine thingy, tight hectic schedules, I know, i shouldnt ignore my facial and take good care of my body and its complexion..Furthermore With the sun scorching hot, burning right through the blouses and shirts...every day even my bra was not spared...I feel like Im drying up like a dried plum or grape...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even I disciplinely gulped down 8 glasses of water every single day it wasnt good enuff to stop the dehydration process...So I've become panicky and started to look up all kinds of UV protection creams, SPF lotions and those relevant to it...why?? Just in case...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont want my face easily dried up or get wrinkled so fast, and quite paranoid I might look like a 70 year old granny instantly...although I'm only a grandaunt. But being a woman, I'm very nervous, maybe a little vain and have taken steps on how to reduce or slow the process of wrinkling till the extent of finding out more especially in the cyberland, the pharmacy or beauty counter and wherever I can get my source from... you can call it vain pout to the extreme if you want, but I dont care. What i want is to prevent it before it too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrinkles and aging does not cause by age and the sun rays itself. ..there are other aspects that I should be aware of and take 'safety' measures to avoid from wrinkling or drying up...And bcos of that I've broken down a few do's and dont's that I think every 'beau' conscious should worried..Err including me!.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some says smoking and alcohol increases wrinkles and ages your skin. Well... I dont both, so Im on the safe side....Maybe yes and maybe Not. Then another ppl says, bad diet can affect skin too. So i need to eat a healthy good diet which i hate the most...Ya lah, that includes a lot of fresh fruits and vegetables. ( These are antioxidant rich foods that can help keep my skin firmer longer...Wether it works or not? )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That day my personal trainer did also told me...about Dehydration, it can increase wrinkles. I have to drink reservoir of water to hydrate my body and skin. I must drink a minimum of eight glasses of water every day as part of my diet. Wish i can only drink 8 glasses of chill Coke instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And alcohol, which causes the skin to sag and become puffy. Huh.. really?. People who drink a lot of alcohol often look older than those who don’t drink at all. This wat studies says. haha..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the worst time to consume alcohol is before bed.. not bcos of the hang over on the next day but it can cause the skin excessive stress and will affect it too. My mom used to scold me not to sleep on my face...which is my favourite position but to sleep on my back instead. According to her, sleeping face down increases wrinkling and increases the effects of gravity on the face skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently i try to find out how to tackle oily skin from my beautician neighbour. She gave me a few tips that i think is quite simple, reliable and interesting. What i have to do is to get a sponge  then dab into  a mixture of talcum powder that hav been made into a paste and apply it to my face every night as a soother or cool cream aka moisturiser, this is the cheapest and easiest way. Isnt it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If possible try to get the powder thats  in a flat square box with a picture of a lady in cheongsam on the cover of it...the compact is either in white or pink...try it and you wont regret! I think I shall continue again in my next entry....As for now, I need some rough fingers to massage my face...Eeuww!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114181721456929771?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114181721456929771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114181721456929771' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114181721456929771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114181721456929771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/03/chicken-of-wrinkles.html' title='Chicken of Wrinkles??'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114273914817150437</id><published>2006-03-24T23:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-25T23:57:54.246+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Girls Just Wanna Have Fun</title><content type='html'>Weekend at last...time to loose that office jacket and let my hair down. Its time to party, have fun, go clubbing, a short trip would be considered fun too, release those accumulated tension and time to mingle...ladies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who doesnt like noisy fun, well, I know clubs can be very noisy and polluted but thats where the fun is...or if you prefer, then there's the beach or the spa...less polluted but if you know how, it'll be much fun than clubbing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isnt it fun or destressing to do just that on every weekend. But what is the real definition of fun?&lt;br /&gt;The true meaning is 'A source of enjoyment, amusement, or pleasure.' &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;'Playful, often noisy activity&lt;/span&gt;.'...One thing for sure that pleases me very much is...sex. But fun...hmmm...I think orgy would be fun but not only sex...rite. Definitely not me...harhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rite now if u were to ask me wat do I do for fun, I would put on my thinking cap and reminische the days dat I would consider fun...hmm lets see...there's a day when I forgot to take my 'pills' and used no protection...and those days days where I missed my menses for two weeks...which happened to be a false alarm..har har&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets think again, anymore, oh yes, about two weeks ago when I sat through a movie marathon for four days in a row while the baby was having fever and cough...following dat he had his monthly immunisation...so dat accumulates to about a week and a half...wow..a record breaker I think. I've also boiled up to three jugs of coffee to keep me awake...that's also fun...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there's also the 'quickie' I had last week, while the childrens are in school...thats a whole lot of fun, I can tell ya. Not forgetting these past few days where I'm unofficially involved in a Women's Day celebration on the 9th April at my nearby Commnity Club...I just had to find sponsors and cute, adorable girls to participate in one of the event held...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Im also helping a few friends run their 'small' business around this neighbourhood....phew...I think that should cover it...no time left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...life is short huh? Need an organiser? Nah...Where got timeee!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114273914817150437?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114273914817150437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114273914817150437' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114273914817150437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114273914817150437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/03/girls-just-wanna-have-fun.html' title='Girls Just Wanna Have Fun'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114231819014473689</id><published>2006-03-14T00:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-15T17:23:26.676+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Journey of Tears</title><content type='html'>It’s funny when you realize a woman’s life is a journey of tears….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, when you were born, the first thing you did was cry...you cried when you are wet, you cried when you are hungry, you cried when you want to be carried and you also cried when you want to sleep...following dat many cries when you are teething. Dont forget when you cried after you had your first bump on the head on having your first few steps...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, you cried so loud when you fell from your first bike…(I dunno bout you guys…But I cried when I fell because it fucking hurts!) You were full of tears again on the first day of school when you saw your parents left...You cried when you had to change to the upper school...(cos it means you'll not be in the same school with your other friends) You cried non-stop when u did badly in your exam...too petrified to go home…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You cried silently when your crush hit on other gurls…(your best friend to be precise) You shed your tears when you say farewell to your best friend on the last day of school….You can’t stop yourself from crying when u managed to get yourself to University…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again...you cried day and night when on your first break up……You sobbed again on your convocation day…thinking you finally made it…You also cried on your first pay cheque...(what the @#*k??this is what I get paid with my qualificatons)...You tears of overjoyed flowed when your boyfriend of four years finally proposed to you...(aahh at last)...The tears can’t stop but flowing on your wedding day…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you cried with joy and happiness when you got to know that you're pregnant with twins but not before you thrashed your hubby upside down...then the tears continued when you hold your first born twin in your arms…Then you cried when the twins wont stop crying...Down the road, you cried yourself to sleep thinking about your children…(now you've got three sets of twins)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later…joyful tears flowed down your cheeks when you saw your children growing up and then got married followed by your first grandchild…In the end…You did not cry anymore….&lt;br /&gt;Because... when you left to eternity alone and in despair..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody else will cry for you…haiz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114231819014473689?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114231819014473689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114231819014473689' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114231819014473689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114231819014473689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/03/journey-of-tears.html' title='Journey of Tears'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-114192279349428180</id><published>2006-03-09T23:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-11T02:43:44.210+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Momma Koala??</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/Image(027).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/Image%28027%29.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Its been quite sometime dat I've not updated my blog. Been so very busy, had my hands full with the baby. He's so pampered and very loving, very attach that he's like a baby kangaroo in his mummy's pouch or like a baby koala always clutching onto his mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's precisely how my baby is nowadays. Even when he's sleeping, he would wake up and cry if he 'sense' dat I'm not beside him or around him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, if, I'm either lying or just simply sitting beside him reading a novel or magazine, he would simply close his eyes and go back to his sleep in dreamland...timid or intelligence? Well maybe he just feel insecure when nobody is around. Perhaps at a very young age, baby starts to demand and need companionship...Just like us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I just wish dat I could become a baby again, who would'nt want dat. Everything is being taken care of. Being fed, bath, burped, cleaned after doing messy businesses, no curfews and when you cry, your mommy or daddy will surely pick you up instantly. Isnt dat a wonderful life??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then... I couldnt talk or shout abusing language freely at those people who irritate me...or even worse, when I'm hungry and people ignore me and just act blur...it happened most of the time to those babies who have ignorant and unready parents...such a pity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if I dont grow up, I wouldnt be able to blog...hmmm. I wouldnt want dat to happen. I hope dat my 'babies' wont grow up so fast, its like a nightmare but a good one. One moment they're in diapers, learning how to crawl, how to walk and run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they started talking non-stop asking lots of question. Exactly like a battery operated toy robot or car, if you dont switch them off, they'll continue to operate...sometimes you just cant put it on off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, they're in school, learning how to read, write and complain about schoolwork...at the same time they picked up new words and phrases that does not belong to their in-house lingos and happen always breaching the in-house strict language rules. Like those unwanted vulgarities etc etc... So basically to be a parent its not an easy job though. But Im quite happy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several years after the day they were born... Suddenly you can see how your baby turned slightly bigger from palm size to a walking partner to the market. How time flies and you dont really notice. It happen overnight. And now its the baby's turn...oh gosh! please, please, dont grow up so fast....I need a baby to cuddle but not willing 'to produce' anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough is enough. Full STOP!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-114192279349428180?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/114192279349428180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=114192279349428180' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114192279349428180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/114192279349428180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/03/momma-koala.html' title='Momma Koala??'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113888096783884759</id><published>2006-02-13T22:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-13T11:51:13.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bell's Palsy Who?</title><content type='html'>Well, I've been thinking a lot on whether to post or not about what happened to me or where was I the past four to five weeks ago, cos I've been very quiet and didnt even logged in. well, maybe I could share my sad sorry story...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happened in the second week of January during the time where I guessed everybody was happy, excited and overjoyed celebrating these festive seasons with their beloved family and loved ones. Well, not for me, you see, in the midst of all these happiness, suddenly I felt the world came crashing down my feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My little princess caught the stomach flu virus, she vomitted throughout the night although after being prescribed by the GP, who gave us a few medications for her. But it didnt stop. The next morning and the rest of the afternoon suddenly she was fine and started jumping around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I thought that the situation was under control. Oh boy, was I wrong. At about ten, my hubby realised that she wasnt herself, she had a crooked smile to her face. True enuff, the right side of her face went numb, she couldnt feel a thing. I happened not to notice that earlier as she was busy playing with her sibling and I was busy with their youngest darling baby. How, how could I not notice this earlier? Bad momma, bad bad momma? We started to panick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The GP's already closed and our next choice would be to send her to the hospital. But I had this feeling of hesitant to send her there as I dont want her to be a guinea pig. So we pray hard that nothing would happen throughout the night. We couldnt sleep a wink. My little princess on the other hand slept like a baby as she was not aware of what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning the first thing we did was to check on her face again, still no response. Luckily the GP opened on a Sunday. We had to send her back to the same GP you see, cos he prescribed her the medicine so he would know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, when we reached there...Doc told us nothing to worry, its not serious (huh? he must be kidding or wat?)... She developed some kind of a facial nerve problem or something which obviously i can tell that without having a Phd myself...and she cant even gimme her usual smile but the doctor told me just that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily hubby was quick to calm me down and assured me to trust and leave it to the GP, bcos of course they (Doc) knew better than we do. Later we found out that our princess was diagnosed with &lt;a href="http://www.bellspalsy.ws/"&gt;bell's palsy&lt;/a&gt; (mild facial nerve disorder). I actually asked the doc again to confirm what's the actual name and the goodness spelling of the god damn it virus. The first thing in mind was to check in the internet in order to know more about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was told by Doc and with the info from the internet about the virus...Its likely going to take her two and a half weeks to fully recover...Oh my Lord...God! Why does it take so long to cure? Eventhough it is not a life threatening virus or sickness but cant it be cured faster and earlier than that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I must spend the rest of the 2 and half weeks with hell's worries at the back of my head?. Is she going recover fully or can it happen again? Even the GP cant give me a complete definite answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually she recovered fully...about less than two weeks. Thanks to Almighty God.  So here i would like to share my experience with other people and to all the moms out there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day if you see any of ur child having difficulty to close or blink their eyes or they simply cant give you their sweet loving smile or you notice something amiss to their face.. maybe you should seriously consider to look on that matter without delay (especially when they start vomitting).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows maybe &lt;a href="http://www.bellspalsy.ws/"&gt;bell's palsy&lt;/a&gt; might have just struck on them. We pray to God...may that NEVER happen ! To Hub...Thank you very much...and I love you more, yes I do!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113888096783884759?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113888096783884759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113888096783884759' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113888096783884759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113888096783884759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/02/bells-palsy-who.html' title='Bell&apos;s Palsy Who?'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113966523731132776</id><published>2006-02-11T21:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-11T22:08:59.333+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love &amp; Like</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/pink%20rose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/pink%20rose.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Since the aura or mood of love is in the air and cupid is polishing hard its bow and arrow to hit those stoned heart, maybe I'll add in something about the real lurve that I know. So, here it goes..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In front of the person you love your heart beats faster, but in front of the person you like you get happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In front of the person you love winter seems like spring, but in front of the person you like winter is just beautiful winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you look into the eyes of the one you love you blush, but if you look into the eyes of the one you like you smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In front of the person you love you can't say everything on your mind, but in front of the person you like you can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In front of the person you love you tend to get shy, but in front of the person you like you can show your own self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The person you love comes into your mind every 2 minutes, you can't look straight into the eyes of the one you love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you can always smile into the eyes of the one you like. When the one you love is crying you cry with them, but when the one you like is crying you end up comforting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The feeling of love starts from the eye, and the feeling of like starts from the ear. So if you stop liking a person you used to like all you need to do is cover your ears, but if you try to close your eyes, love turns into a drop of tear and remains in your heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, never never ever turn down love when it comes right piercing through your heart, cos once its gone, It'll take a long time to find its way back. You might end up stone hearted, heartless or worse still, you may even get a heart attack...haha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113966523731132776?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113966523731132776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113966523731132776' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113966523731132776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113966523731132776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/02/love-like.html' title='Love &amp; Like'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113560182572230309</id><published>2006-02-04T13:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-02-04T13:09:23.926+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Human Nature</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/starfish.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/starfish.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humans are selfish by nature. There are few people out there who willingly put the needs of others before their own, not looking for anything in return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are few people out there who would make sacrifices for someone who cannot repay them twice over. But I've learned this week that the true measure of a man is seen in how he treats those who are of absolutely no good to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humans were not brought up to think about being alone, or making themselves happy all on their own. The first thing they seek to do is to find people or things to make themselves happy, before they even consider what they can do to aid in the happiness of others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humans are greedy, and always want more of everything they have. Humans covet. They always want what others have. Humans are insatiable. Nothing... Nothing is ever enough. But that's just how they are, right? That's how they were programmed to think and act and behave. So, that's human nature. Right? Wrong!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were born loving, weren't we? I mean, a child shows love in its purest form. That's why children would go straight to heaven if they died.. they are so pure... But from the time we start to get older and observe the behaviour of those around us, we pick it up and do what they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We become selfish because the people around us are selfish. We become covetous because people covet what we have. So if it was just a case of 'human nature' then there would be no chance of change, would there? But there is. It's just up to each one of us. What we call human nature... is actually just human habit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113560182572230309?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113560182572230309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113560182572230309' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113560182572230309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113560182572230309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2006/02/human-nature.html' title='Human Nature'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113479113647129290</id><published>2005-12-20T23:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-22T21:40:39.840+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Want The Truth?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/mr&amp;mrs.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/mr%26mrs.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What lies beneath...Inside out...such a disturbing doubts and if we wanna the truth?? We CANT handle the truth. It's about our partner so called soulmate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you really want to know everything about your partner? How long have you waited before you asked him about the truth, nothing but the truth. Is it too early or perhaps too late.?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How well do you really know our partner? This may seem like a simple question but there is more to it than meets the eye. I mean, do you know the truth about your partner in terms of his true colours, his past, previous relationships, his secrets, most darkest secret, the first time he kissed and of course the first time he lost his manhood too...but most of us will say...heck care who cares?...harhar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, let me warn you firsthand, always be prepared mentally. Coz once the cat is out of the bag, it will not return back. In a way, there's the advantages and disadvantages behind it. But it certainly will make your relationship much stronger with the 'barrier' in your relationship broken down. Like the berlin wall, everyone united with a wider scope of life ahead...as like the advantages/disadvantages it has the positive and negative results too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even worse still, you cant bear to look at his face after learning the truth. Frankly, the truth is an evil thing, sometimes it is not meant to be released. Its best kept as a secret till the end. It is good, too good to be true but....if otherwise? dont say its hard to accept or swallow maybe the blood vessel will burst out first. Dying young...har har no way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a simple sassy way of seeing life. No fuss no mess.&lt;br /&gt;While we're into secrecy and feelings. Have you ever have this feeling of wanting to share a secret with someone but you cant cos you've sworn not to tell anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, right not its just jostling up and down inside me waiting to burst out and scream 'let me out, let me out, I want out now!' It makes my head thinking not straight most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a promise is a promise. No matter whatever happens, I will not let 'them' out, let it be buried with me to the grave straight to the heaven...but then, no matter how we always keep the cats in the house, and end up someone will let the dog out...who let the dog out? whoof...whoof... whoof... whoofff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113479113647129290?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113479113647129290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113479113647129290' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113479113647129290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113479113647129290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/12/you-want-truth.html' title='You Want The Truth?'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113517692358565599</id><published>2005-12-18T23:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-21T23:13:20.040+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Visit To The Zoo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/orangutan.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/orangutan.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a fine day today and thought that it would be great to go to the &lt;a href="http://www.zoo.com.sg/"&gt;zoological gardens.&lt;/a&gt; Its been quite sometime since our last visit. Sort of miss 'them' actually. Cant blame me, Im an animal lover by nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since it was a last minute planning, there's no time to pack any sandwiches. I just grab whatever tidbits and snacks there is in the cupboard and hurriedly dress myself and the children beore making sure to pack along their raincoats in case it rains. By the time we're ready, the time show its already half past one. Must move faster...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We reached the destination about less than forty five minutes. Since its a school holiday, its quite crowded but we have no trouble finding a parking lot for our Mitsubishi Evo 9. We dont have to queue either to buy the entrance tickets since we are Friends of The Zoo. We have been FOZ since 1999. Just how loyal can we be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just upon entering, my stomach starts growling...damn it...so we have no choice but to head straight to the nearest KFC, since that is the nearest available restaurant..suddenly we were greeted by drizzles of rain, which make us more hurriedly to our next stop. Oh man what a start of our journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the restaurant itself, people started flocking in to find seats. Those patrons inside although have finished eating, wouldnt budge their lazy ass due to the rain. No consideration to others at all. Starting to get to my nerves...feeling quite furious now. But luck is with me, the moment a couple stood up from their chair, I sprint to their table...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No way, no say would I give way to others who are also waiting. Its like finders keepers. Hey man, Im already dead hungry, what do you expect. To make matters worse, the queue to the counter is also long, have to wait about 10mins before its my turn to order. At last its my turn. Got everything I want and start eating and enjoying my chicken..original recipe, a whipped potato, coleslaw, popcorn chicken and top it up with Coke..its finger lickin' good..yum yum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Im not as inconsiderate as other people around there. After finishing my food, we got up and left, in a way to give way to other patrons. Animal lovers are not cruel, they're all kind hearted people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drizzling have stopped, luckily. We headed to the reptile exhibit, then followed by one of my favourite animal, the Mandrill. Then there was the chimpanzees, how cute and lovable, always so bubbly. Not forgetting their cousins of course, Ah Mengs. But pity those animals too cos they're all stuck up either in their cage or their exhibit, when its 6 oclock, they have to return inside their 'home'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By now, we've already covered almost three quarters of the animal exhibit and it have started to drizzle again. Awww...it means we have no choice but to dash to the zoo exit which is about 5 minute walk from where we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, the children didnt make a fuss for us having to leave so soon. They clearly know that the rain will not stop. Till the next visit maybe...after christmas I presume..Anyone wants to join??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113517692358565599?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113517692358565599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113517692358565599' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113517692358565599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113517692358565599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/12/visit-to-zoo.html' title='A Visit To The Zoo'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113480333199175692</id><published>2005-12-16T01:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-17T15:08:52.006+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprise!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/louisv.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/louisv.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/damierppl3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/damierppl3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surprise!! a birthday gift from my love. The gift is the one on the right. I like, I lurveee. Right now Im trying to complete my collection. Just three more designs to go and its complete wala...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one on the left I just got it about six months back. Yeayyy..Got to go and fiddle, hug, caress my new lovely new baby and its cousins.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113480333199175692?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113480333199175692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113480333199175692' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113480333199175692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113480333199175692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/12/surprise.html' title='Surprise!!'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113472506084070955</id><published>2005-12-15T20:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T17:29:01.710+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME&lt;/em&gt;, yeayy, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;well, its that time of the year again. My birthday. It means growing a year older...hmm. How I wish I could stop the clock, doesnt everyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;There's nothing more I want on my birthday than a wish from my loved ones. It truly makes me happy when they did that. So touching that it makes my tears came rolling down my cheeks. Never mind the gift, but Im thankful to my special one, so thoughtful of YOU. Love you baby!! Its really touches my heart and soul, never did I imagine you would do something sweet for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ehem, I think with a year difference in age, makes me receive lesser presents this year. Not that Im hoping for...harhar. There's no celebration or cake cutting this year, unlike last year. Just spending some quality precious time with my loved ones. Thats already fulfilling for me. No celebration can compare to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But how I wish that today wont end and we could still treasure this precious time we had together awhile longer. Just a wish....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, there's nothing much to write as the night is still young. Anything can happen. Cross my fingers. Catch up later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113472506084070955?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113472506084070955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113472506084070955' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113472506084070955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113472506084070955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/12/happy-birthday.html' title='Happy Birthday'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113377897897058971</id><published>2005-12-10T18:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T16:52:42.696+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The One</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/eyes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 92px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 90px" height="83" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/eyes.jpg" width="76" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Five more days to my big day (my birthday that is). And my thoughts and mind have been bringing me back memories of my past relationships. Well, what can I say, I have a few bad 'encounters' in relationships, but many good sweet memorable ones too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been said that "Matches are made in Heaven" then why we meet so many wrong people in our lives? Why destiny makes our path cross with them? Why not we meet the right one at first go and why the right one always come after we meet our share of wrong ones?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These questions always confuse me. Have you ever wondered why Mr. Wrong never seems that wrong at our first meeting but as time flies we realise "Oh! he is not the one."And when Mr. Right arrives, our past experiences make us so careful and cautious that poor Mr. Right pays for our past experiences without even having any fault of his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meeting someone whose not meant for you sometimes have very negative impact because this person may sometimes shake your entire individuality and make you think "Is something really wrong with me that I didnt click with him." Such thoughts are very harmful and may make us analyze ourselves for a certain period of time. We need to take all this in our stride and after few months we realise there is nothing wrong with us, it was just that we were not destined to click with Mr.Wrong and things once again start moving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again we are ready to meet and give chances to people.Then arrives our hero I mean Mr. Right and things becomes rosy.We go through both smooth and rough paths with him.This time we want our relation to work and our sixth sense guides us. Even if the relation is not perfect but this relation gives us the feeling of satisfaction, contentment and feeling of being complete. We dont regret anymore meeting Mr. Wrong because now we realise the value of Mr.Right. May be meeting Mr. Wrong is the price we pay to meet Mr. Right. As they say "No pain no gain"&lt;br /&gt;I can still remember when &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Mr.Right entered my life with his charm, those eyes just shot through my heart, sharp yet seducing and with those lips of his, with his smile, it just melts me down making my knees trembling weak. Simply irresistable. And those masculine hands, broad shoulders...emmm they're just an invitation for a...ehem &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;HUG&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats not all, just wait till he starts delivering his words, soft, sweet yet full of wisdom. Truly a man of intelligence. Did I forget to mention his great looks, never would I imagine that my dream man resembles my idol. Tall, fair skinned, dark hair... (I'm not going to tell who he looks like) Just what I wanted in a &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;MAN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think for now my life is three quarter filled. I've gotten what I dreamed for and what I achieved for so far. Thank you God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113377897897058971?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113377897897058971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113377897897058971' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113377897897058971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113377897897058971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/12/one.html' title='The One'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113377924786584269</id><published>2005-12-08T18:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T16:59:32.666+08:00</updated><title type='text'>SE7EN</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/Seven7.0.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/Seven7.0.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was looking through my old diary and found an old writing of the things I wanted to do before my time's up or crushes I had and even my hate list. So, I've decided to refresh it in my blog. I loved doing it last the time so lets rock one more time. I hope it will rock you too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;7 things I plan to do before I die&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Have a good and happy married life.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Enjoy motherhood, have babies and give them good upbringing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Paragliding, bungee jumping and white river rafting..provided if I have the guts to do so.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Want to own a penthouse...(in your dreams sis)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Want to do something for underprivileged people&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be more practical and diplomatic (I know I dont have enuff intelligence to do that); and&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Visit some island for romantic vacation with my man&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;7 things I cant do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I can never enter into short term affairs and flings.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hide my emotions&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I find it difficult to say no to people I love&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I cant forget if someone does good or bad to me&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I cant be in the company of unhygienic people&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I never get satisfied easily; and&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I like things to be perfect.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;7 things that attract to me opposite sex&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Intelligence and subtle sense of humour&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Man of few words.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Man who knows what to say at what time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Height, Hands, I am fussy about hands.I like those broad masculine hands &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Deep and passionate Eyes &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Smile, your ever lasting smile&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Loyalty &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Caring and understanding Success&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;(oops i crossed the limit of 7 but then such a topic felt like pouring my heart out)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;7 words which I say often&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Great&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wonderful&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Oh my God/ Oh mi gosh&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Shit&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Crap/Crappy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go to @#*@&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Oops sorry&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;7 celebrity crushes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Keanu Reeves&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Brad Pitt&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hugh Grant&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Luke Perry&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Kevin Costner&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tom Cruise; and of course&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The man whom I'll marry.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;7 things I hate most&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Liars&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dishonesty in relationship&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hypocrites&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Promise Breakers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Late comers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Opportunists; and&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Back stabbers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;7 things I love most&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;My LV collections&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My Mobile phone&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My Pet&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Money&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;More Money&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My Precious Time; and&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My Life&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well that's the past topic that i covered in the past...I havent made my new list for te present and upcoming future. I'll say let it be for a few more weeks and see what changes I have made over the list. Chow now!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113377924786584269?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113377924786584269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113377924786584269' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113377924786584269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113377924786584269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/12/se7en.html' title='SE7EN'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113377908763729199</id><published>2005-12-06T19:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T13:08:19.616+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spices In Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2185/1672/1600/spice.2.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 235px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 44px" height="32" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2185/1672/200/spice.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Just came back from my morning walk cum jog, a routine exercise I've been doing since my teen years, the least I can do actually. During which I saw and came across other walkers and joggers doing their rounds also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And suddenly it made me think that in life we meet different kinds of people. All of them change our lives in some way or the other. Some people give new dimensions to our outlook and with others our thoughts process doesnt click.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, with that, i decide to categorise people or should I say human mind;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are people who care for us and are always there for us. Well such people become our support system. Anything goes wrong and we know we have these set of people to always look forward to&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;There are also people who pretend to care for us and are never there for us in our hours of need. God bless us from such fake people. In life such category is the one who crosses our paths in day to day life.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Then, there's people who do care for us but for some reasons we dont want them to be there in hours of need. Such people are harmless and sweet kinds.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Well, there's also people who act as our agony aunt. God bless such people who are always there to lend their ears to our sobbing tales. God knows what soil these people are made of that even after hearing depressing stories they never lose hope and always try to see better side. We treat such people as our punching bags.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;For those people who dont care a damn about us and we should never expect them to be there for us. Its better to keep such people at arm's length.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And for those people who never find any flaw in whatever we do. Even if you do something wrong, such category would never ever say any negative remark, on the contrary that they tend to find something positive in the whole negative thing. Hats off to them.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Not forgetting those people who always find flaws in our work. Even if the work is up to the mark such breed will find ten thousand flaws in it and how they do it , its still a mystery to me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I prefer those people who encourage us when we are right and show us the right path when we are going on wrong path. Such category always speak their mind and are our well wishers.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hate those people who treat us as their agony aunts and we need to lend our shoulders to their eyes full of tears.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lurve those people whose company we enjoy as they are full of life, laughter and happiness, they tend to make our lives more cheery and bright.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My worst enemy, are those people who only have their sad tales to share. Such people should realise even we are humans and can listen to their tales to one limit-sigh&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Always 'choose' people who make us laugh.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Avoid those people who make us cry.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My favorite category would be those people who make our heart skip a beat. Such people for me are very rare and I really value such breed.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Last but not least there's those people who change our lives. Such people come once in a blue moon and when they step in our lives, our lives is never the same. They show us what love is all about.In the process such people become our soulmates.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I hope I had covered the different kinds of people that exists in this world. With that I end my research on people cum human characters cum behaviour. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113377908763729199?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113377908763729199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113377908763729199' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113377908763729199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113377908763729199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/12/spices-in-life.html' title='Spices In Life'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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-17615371.post-113377828518813633</id><published>2005-12-06T07:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-06T22:53:48.600+08:00</updated><title type='text'>K.A.T.S</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/monalisa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/monalisa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what happens when its 3am and I'm not in the mood to sleep (cos I woke up really late today). So I decided to do a sketch of my favorite painting of the Monalisa and then draw a comic strip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But time doesnt allow me to draw the comic strip because after several unrecognizable sketches I finally abandoned the comic strip idea and settled on a bed time story. All the characters in the following story are fictional and also extremely sleepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why cat-babies are called kittens and other stories;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;(Part 1)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2729/226/1600/Cat.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ma Kat and Pa Kat had a small argument at the dinner table. Pa Kat wanted a puppy since he was a kid but Ma Kat was adamant. “Puppies make a mess, we’ll need a bigger litter and besides, I just read in the Cat Health Zine that cats with puppies tend to die earlier due to reasons not yet know to catkind. We could get a cat if you want”. &lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/cats.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma Kat was always a ‘cat person’. Pa Kat agreed and they decided have some babies. Pa Kat called up Kit Kat, the cat delivery system to order babies. “No, I don’t want the free shipping by stork baby deliveries. Yes, we will pay extra for the UPS express shipping”, he said. Which was a good thing too because Large Beak, the CEO of Stork Delivery Services had once said “We deliver everything, but cat liver is really delicious, so we just love delivering cats and people even pay us for delivering cats. This is stork heaven”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The UPS guy brought with him a boxful of small cats. Ma Kat was a bit angry but Pa Kat insisted that he couldn’t have possibly passed over the ‘Buy 1 , get 26 free’ super saver deal. Ma Kat had decided the name of the first baby and they called her ‘Kita’. The naming of rest of the kittens fell over to Pa Kat. Well, we know now that Pa Kat wasn’t very imaginative because he named the second baby ‘KitB’, the third baby ‘KitC’ and so on. All their babies became famous. This, however is the story of two of these, babies fourteen and twenty seven. Baby fourteen, KitN, went on to become so pouplar in the cat world that cats all over the world started naming their babies after her. Even today cat babies are often called kitns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Pa Kat had named the first twenty six babies, he realized that he had run out of letters and still had a baby to go. However neither Pa Kat nor Ma Kat had seen such a chivalrous and brave baby like number 27.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kitn and No27 were inseparable when they were born. In fact they were Siamese cats and the doctors operated on them to separate them. However, they still remained close friends and embarked on all their adventures together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How Kitn and No27 helped the human doctors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2729/226/1600/Rich%20Cats.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Doctors all over the world have always wanted to look inside the heads of their patients. This is not particularly tricky, but patients often ran away when the doctors tried to cut open their heads. No27 realized that cats had X-ray vision and could look inside the heads of most humans and examine their brains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they patented the CAT scan machine which saved a lot of human lives all over the planet and made Kitn and No27 the first Cat zillionaires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, look at the time, almost 7.30 in the morning, and a catnap is just what i need right now. Meoww....purrr&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113377828518813633?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113377828518813633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113377828518813633' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113377828518813633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113377828518813633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/12/kats.html' title='K.A.T.S'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113214098425848454</id><published>2005-12-04T19:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-13T12:50:20.546+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Wife Or Your Life?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2185/1672/1600/ryanntrista.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/2185/1672/320/ryanntrista.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;To my frens and regular readers out there, hope this story will occupy your precious time. The story actually came from someone close to me and would like to share it with the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May the story wake us up from our dream world and bring us back to reality, also may the story knock some sense to those husbands out there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There was this news about armed robbers in Nigeria who love raping girls and women during their diabolical operations. And so many wives have been raped by these heartless and ruthless armed robbers. I have never heard of any husband killed whilst trying to defend his wife. And many of them were made to watch as their wives were raped right before their very eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the fact is these husbands love their lives more than their wives.I know a former campus beauty queen in Nigeria who was raped by armed robbers a year after her wedding. She was seeing me before she got married. She ran away from her boyfriend who was maltreating her and took refuge in my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy and his gang asked me to send her out. I refused. I moved her to my uncle's residence, because it was safer. The guy came after her. And my cousin who was also a body builder like the guy warned the bully to keep off or he would be dealt with the same brutal way he was dealing with the ex-girlfriend. And he reported the matter to my elder brother. My family appealed me to surrender the girl and I refused until she left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, she got married. But unfortunately, she was raped by the armed robbers who invaded their home. She felt bad and sad. And to worsen her predicament, the husband stopped loving her and they separated.Was it her fault that she was raped?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why did the husband reject her when she needed him most? WHY? the question remained unanswered till this very day!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113214098425848454?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113214098425848454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113214098425848454' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113214098425848454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113214098425848454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/12/your-wife-or-your-life.html' title='Your Wife Or Your Life?'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113363208035243965</id><published>2005-12-04T01:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T01:48:00.363+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing In Action</title><content type='html'>Been very busy for the past few weeks wif the school holidays, the festivities, my princess's birthday bash and some minor projects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Havent had any chance at all to drop a few words in my blog. So hectic, restless blah blah blah (my usual complain) but it had been four memorable weeks that cant be forgotten. So, i'll be gone for a little bit again but definitely will be back sooner this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Than you to those who have been visiting my blog regularly and not feeling bored i hope. So, thank you guys and gerls, see ya real soon...thats it for now- signing out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113363208035243965?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113363208035243965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113363208035243965' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113363208035243965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113363208035243965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/12/missing-in-action.html' title='Missing In Action'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113170843899700429</id><published>2005-11-11T19:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T12:45:03.110+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rich And Happy As Hell</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/paris.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/paris.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I received an email yesterday from my best friend and thought of sharing it with all the readers out there. I find the story to be quite humurous actually, so enjoy reading;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;This is a letter from the Wife to the Husband&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Husband&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm writing you this letter to tell you that I'm leaving you for good. I've been a good woman to you for seven years and I have nothing to show for it. These last two weeks have been hell. Your boss called to tell me that you had quit your job today and that was the last straw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, you came home and didn't notice that I had gotten my hair and nails done, cooked your favorite meal and even wore a brand new negligee. You came home and ate in two minutes, and went straight to sleep after watching the game. You don't even tell me you love me anymore, you don't touch me or anything. Either you're cheating or you don't love me anymore, what ever the case is, I'm gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. If you're trying to find me, don't. Your BROTHER and I are moving away to West Virginia together! Have a great life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your EX-Wife&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;And The Husband Replies;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Ex-Wife&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing has made my day more than receiving your letter. It's true that you and I have been married for seven years, although a good woman is a far cry from what you've been. I watch sports so much to try to drown out your constant nagging. Too bad that doesn't work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did notice when you cut off all of your hair last week, the first thing that came to mind was "You look just like a man!" My mother raised me to not say anything if you can't say anything nice. When you cooked my favorite meal, you must have gotten me confused with MY BROTHER, becauseI stopped eating pork seven years ago!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to sleep on you when you had on that new negligee because the price tag was still on it. I prayed that it was a coincidence that my brother had just borrowed fifty dollars from me that morning and your negligee was $49.99. After all of this, I still loved you and fel t that we could work it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I discovered that I had hit the lotto for ten million dollars, I quit my job and bought us two tickets to Jamaica. But when I got home, you were gone. Everything happens for a reason I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you have the filling life you always wanted. My lawyer said with your letter that you wrote, you won't get a dime from me. So take care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I don't know if I ever told you this but Carl, my brother was born Carla. I hope that's not a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Signed Rich As Hell and Free!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as a lesson to all ladies, dont judge and leave your man before you got his money..HarHar!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113170843899700429?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113170843899700429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113170843899700429' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113170843899700429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113170843899700429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/11/rich-and-happy-as-hell.html' title='Rich And Happy As Hell'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113162188928710733</id><published>2005-11-10T19:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T12:41:53.913+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Man!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/butt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/butt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Just a few good humuors i picked up just to ease off my stress.&lt;br /&gt;Hope nobody will get offended after reading this;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What do you call a man with half a brain?&lt;br /&gt;A: Gifted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What is the thinnest book in the world?&lt;br /&gt;A: "What Men Know About Women"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: How many men does it take to screw in a light bulb?&lt;br /&gt;A: One ... &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;men will screw anything&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: How does a man take a bubble bath?&lt;br /&gt;A: He eats beans for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: How many men does it take to change a roll of toilet paper?&lt;br /&gt;A: &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;We don't know .... it's never happened&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What is a man's idea of helping with the housework?&lt;br /&gt;A: Lifting his leg so you can vacuum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What's the difference between a man and E.T.?&lt;br /&gt;A: E.T. phoned home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What did God say after creating man?&lt;br /&gt;A: I can do better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What are the two reasons why men don't mind their own business?&lt;br /&gt;A: 1. No mind. 2. No business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: How is a man like a snowstorm?&lt;br /&gt;A: Because you don't know when it's coming, how many inches you'll get, and how long it'll stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Why is it so hard for women to find men who are sensitive, caring, and good looking?&lt;br /&gt;A: Because those men already have &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;boyfriends&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: How do men sort their laundry?&lt;br /&gt;A: "Filthy" and Filthy but wearable"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: Why do &lt;em&gt;women &lt;/em&gt;fake orgasms?&lt;br /&gt;A: Because men fake &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;foreplay&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q:What is the real difference between men and women?&lt;br /&gt;A:A woman wants one man to satisfy all her needs. A man wants every woman to satisfy his one need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q:Why do men like smart, sexy women?&lt;br /&gt;A:Opposites attract.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q:Why is psychoanalysis so much quicker for men than for women?&lt;br /&gt;A:Men don't need to be regressed back to their childhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q:Why are well-dressed men always married?&lt;br /&gt;A:Because their &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;wife &lt;/span&gt;chooses their clothes for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q:Why are men such wankers?&lt;br /&gt;A:Because they have a willy with a head but no brains that hangs out with two nuts and lives next door to an arsehole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q:What do beer bottles and men have in common?&lt;br /&gt;A:They are both empty from the neck up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q:Why can women never find their way to a man's heart?&lt;br /&gt;A:Because they aim too high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q:Why does it take three million sperm to fertilize one single egg?&lt;br /&gt;A:Because they're &lt;em&gt;less knowledgeable&lt;/em&gt; to find the right way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man: "God, why did you make woman so beautiful?"God: "So you would love her."Man:"But God, why did you make her so dumb?"God: "So she would love a wanker like you."One day God called Adam to him and said: "Adam, I have some good news and some bad news. Which would you like to hear first?""The good news," replied Adam."Well, the good news is I gave you a penis and a brain.""OK.." said Adam warily. "And what's the bad news?""I only gave you enough blood to operate one at time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Sorry MAN, just a joke!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113162188928710733?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113162188928710733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113162188928710733' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113162188928710733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113162188928710733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/11/oh-man.html' title='Oh Man!'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113117023716255949</id><published>2005-11-09T20:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-11T20:24:43.196+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What Happens when..?</title><content type='html'>Just a few questions that suddenly popped up in my mind and i must wrote down quickly before its gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What happens to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;When I can no longer live &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;What happens to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;when I've lost the will to give&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What happens to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;When I can no longer stand on my own&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What happens to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;When I'm lost in this dark dark world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What happens to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;When I’m lost and can’t be found&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What happens to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;When I can’t stop turning round&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What happens to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;When the world has closed its doors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What happens to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;When nothing is for sure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What happens to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;When life has turned a page&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What happens to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;When everything is a daze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What happens to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;When I can no longer be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What happens to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;When I no longer feel free&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What happens to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;When I am all alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What happens to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;When everything is gone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;What happened to me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;When I need a friendI look over and there you are smiling at me&lt;br /&gt;Once again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113117023716255949?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113117023716255949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113117023716255949' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113117023716255949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113117023716255949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/11/what-happens-when.html' title='What Happens when..?'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113136259761958584</id><published>2005-11-07T21:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T20:50:07.800+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Simple Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/sunset.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/sunset.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; As I was waking up this morning I could suddenly understand something that I never had before. It was important, so I wrote it down immediately, while still asleep: a few brief sentences in longhand in a notebook in my dreams. Each word was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could see them on the page and they made sense. Then they were gone.But this is how it always is. Each day plays out the same. I wake up inspired by a simple, clear, breathtakingly lucid insight that evaporates by the time my feet hit the floor. Even before I reach the kitchen the sick sense of opportunity wasted has mutated into something more profound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a coffee instead, but that doesn't help. I sit back and half-heartedly attempt to count my blessings, but you know what? I can't think of any.Gone like a cool breeze. Gone like a train.So here I am again, with cold feet and a sinking heart and a head full of traffic noise, still typing busily away. Typing furiously. Typing for my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While underneath each passing thought the sly, unending, desperate, pornographically obsessive desire for "just one" cigarette keeps whining, mewling, yowling, pleading bitterly within me like the ghost of some starved cat.[hours pass]I should probably eat something, really. Put some music on. Water the plants. Go for a walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went out, get a cheeseburger (heck with the fat), enjoy the afternoon sun shining on my face, cool breeze swiping my hair, making it stuck to my face. Just enjoying, enjoying my simple meal and walk alone. Getting home is NOT next on my list. But I do have to get home real quick before the rest of the group gets hungry...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But a quick stroll by the beach wont do any harm. Enjoy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113136259761958584?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113136259761958584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113136259761958584' title='84 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113136259761958584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113136259761958584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/11/my-simple-life.html' title='My Simple Life'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>84</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113117139233326774</id><published>2005-11-05T18:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-12T18:47:05.890+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/green%20grass.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/green%20grass.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Am I happy&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;/span&gt;” This question doesn’t occur to us frequently in this fast paced world, but sometimes when we are alone, when we look back upon several incidents of our life, this question may come to our mind just like a flash of lightning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this world where people don’t have time to stand and stare such questions are always ignored; we don’t want to answer such unimportant questions as its answer won’t change a thing. Most people in this world are unhappy, only a handful of us can claim to be truly happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Am I happy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; When I ask myself this question, the answer comes after a short pause, and the answer is &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;NO.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I am not happy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. I &lt;em&gt;belong&lt;/em&gt; to that group of unhappy people, who are optimistic, and occasionally think that the grass on the other side of the river is greener.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT they can’t help to be unhappy as little things make them upset. But they try to remain happy, by involving themselves in the activities around them, by talking to people, by trying to make others happy and avoiding people whom they despise. They are people whom you meet every now and then; they might not be great achievers (and some of them might even be losers in life) but they haven’t given up hope. They are hardcore optimists and try to succeed in their respective fields, but often they fail. But they never give up. People like me only form a part of the unhappy society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are different types of unhappy people in this world. And behind all this unhappy faces there is only one reason- &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. Perhaps you would argue that beggars can’t be unhappy because of love; their unhappiness lies in the fact that they don’t have food, clothing and shelter. But if only we loved each other or at least had some respect for humanity we wouldn’t have beggars in our street begging for alms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even wars would not have been fought, and all the murders, robberies would have stopped and this world would have been a better place for us to live. So a lot of solutions to man’s problems would have been achieved. But reality is quite different from this, and we all know it.But what about our personal grieves, our personal sorrows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even to that the reason is love. Some people are unhappy because of love for their partner, some because of love for their friend, some because of love for their family, some because of their love for their ambition and some because they are in love with a person whom they can never get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we see behind all unhappiness there is only one reason-&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;LOVE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. This four lettered word surrounds our life, and without which we can’t live. In short it makes our world. I have got a lot of hurt because of love, not because of a boyfriend, and I am not talking of that kind of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am talking of friendship. I have got hurt because of love for my friends many times. But the worst was about ten months back. And I had remained terribly upset over three months, so much so I used to cry at nights. That incident had occurred all because of me. But now everything is fine. Since that incident I have been careful not to hurt any one. I say sorry as soon as soon as I realize my mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And again there is the sorrow of not succeeding in academics which I would love to. Some people fall in love with their friends (an example), for them I would say not to spoil the magic of friendship if their friend doesn’t reciprocate their feelings. It would just increase the mutual pain. Friendship once broken can’t be fixed. So we should always nurture this beautiful relationship which always puts a smile on our face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of my friends think I am a lot happier than they are, since I have a wonderful and loving family. But yes, love always creates problems so one can never be sure. Here is one piece of advice for my friends who are in love with people they can’t get - Life has much more things to offer than just girlfriend/boyfriend, there are other loves, there are other people who love you, and there is someone in this world who will love you as much as you love this person of your dreams…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for myself, I love my family, myself and those people who loved me. The End.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113117139233326774?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113117139233326774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113117139233326774' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113117139233326774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113117139233326774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/11/happy.html' title='Happy?'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113074396120536704</id><published>2005-11-01T12:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-01T13:22:15.196+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Public C.R</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/toilet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/toilet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday i took my childrens for a walk at a neighbouring mall. We went to McDonalds for a bite, then we headed to the game arcade. Then my daughter wanted to ease herself. So i accompanied her to the nearest comfort room available.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moment i stepped my foot in, a foul smell welcomed me...ewww. I felt like vomitting right there that very second, but because my daughter urgently cant hold back her so called 'business', i had to force myself into one of the cubicles (while trying very hard to hold my breath)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the same time i was cursing and swearing under my breath. I was gasping very hard for air. Help...After dat we hurriedly home as our moods was 'spoiled' by the unsightly and unwelcoming smell. It really turned our moods off.So i decided to make a few points on public .&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;CR aka Comfort Room&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;They are disgusting.... Piss, *@#* , used paper and &lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;used towels&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; everywhere.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No one washes their hands. Eeewwwww!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Toilets that flush automatically. You walk in and start to squat(no sitting on those nasty bitches) and the *@#* flushes. After you're done you stand up and it doesn't flush. You wave your hand in front of it and it still doesn't flush. You pretend to sit down and stand up about twenty times and it still doesn't flush. Finally, you must touch the little button in order to flush it. They place this button on the back of the toilet directly in the middle.... Impossible to flush with your foot therefore breaking rule #1 of public restrooms (don't touch anything).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Or even sometimes a toilet that cant flush because its choked with toilet papers or &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;other types of used papers...yucks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Automatic sinks. These are almost as bad as automatic toilets. You put your hands under about 10 different faucets before one actually works. Then ,as you are lathering, the *@#* water stops. You wave you hand up and down in front of the sensor to no avail. So, you must search again for a faucet that works. When you find one that works, you must hold your hands just so otherwise it will cut off again. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I do have one good thing to say about public restrooms.... Automatic paper towel dispensers. I haven't had one malfunction yet and I don't have to touch anything. Hell yeah!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, my conclusion and advise would be, &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;remove all excess baggage and fluid&lt;/span&gt; BEFORE&lt;/em&gt; leaving home. Never, i said never, trust any public CR, unless you're in an urgent state!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113074396120536704?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113074396120536704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113074396120536704' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113074396120536704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113074396120536704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/11/public-cr.html' title='Public C.R'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113074377147952361</id><published>2005-11-01T11:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-01T15:42:52.053+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pay Raise</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/adam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/adam.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Wednesday i got a call from my friend asking me to help write a letter to his boss asking for a pay raise. well, i said that im not good at writing, be it a letter or anything else...but he pleaded to help him this once..ah what the heck. I hope i wrote everything needed for a pay raise and not miss anything;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To The Management&lt;br /&gt;Deep Hole Construction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attention: Mr Tom and Mr Harry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Sirs,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, &lt;em&gt;Dick&lt;/em&gt;, of ID no. 7.5-8, hereby request a raise in salary for the following reasons:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I do physical labor.&lt;br /&gt;2. I work at great depths.&lt;br /&gt;3. I plunge head first into everything I do.&lt;br /&gt;4. I do not get weekends or public holidays off.&lt;br /&gt;5. I work in a damp environment.&lt;br /&gt;6. I don't get paid overtime.&lt;br /&gt;7. I work in a dark workplace that has poor ventilation.&lt;br /&gt;8. I work in high temperatures, and my work exposes me to contagious diseases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope the management would accept my above reasons with serious consideration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours sicerely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dick P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days later, he got a reply from his bosses,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Dick,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After assessing your request, and considering the arguments you have raised, the administration rejects your request for the following reasons:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. You cannot work 8 hours straight.&lt;br /&gt;2. You fall asleep on the job after brief work periods.&lt;br /&gt;3. You do not always follow the orders of the management team.&lt;br /&gt;4. You do not stay in your designated area and are often seen visiting other locations.&lt;br /&gt;5. You do not take initiative..you need to be pressured and stimulated in order to start working.&lt;br /&gt;6. You leave the workplace rather messy at the end of your shift..&lt;br /&gt;7. You don't always observe necessary safety regulations, such as wearing the correct protective clothing.&lt;br /&gt;8. You will retire well before you are 65.&lt;br /&gt;9. You are unable to work double shifts.&lt;br /&gt;10. You sometimes leave your designated work before you have completed the assigned task.&lt;br /&gt;11. You often enter your workplace at the wrong entrance..(shd i remind u that you're in block A and not block B)&lt;br /&gt;12. And if that were not enough, you have been seen constantly entering and exiting the workplace carrying two suspicious looking bags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,The Management&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, i told him so that i' m not good in writing and there goes his &lt;em&gt;pay raise&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Sorry Dick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113074377147952361?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113074377147952361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113074377147952361' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113074377147952361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113074377147952361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/11/pay-raise.html' title='Pay Raise'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113074252227846856</id><published>2005-10-31T15:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-01T15:35:54.026+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgive..Forgave...and Forgiven</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/2.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 191px" height="191" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/2.0.jpg" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/frens.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I was reading somewhere yesterday and stumbled upon a very touching story. I just feel very strongly that i must cut out this story and post it in my journal as a remembrance for me in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story tells that two friends were walking through the desert. During some point of the journey they had an argument, and one friend slapped the other one in the face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The one who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything, wrote in the sand:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath.&lt;br /&gt;The one who had been slapped got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but the friend saved him. After he recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him, "After I hurt you, you wrote in the sand and now, you write on a stone, why?" The other friend replied "When someone hurts us we should write it down in sand where winds of forgiveness can erase it away. But, when someone does something good for us, we must engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND AND&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;TO CARVE YOUR BENEFITS IN STONE.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I definitely cant find myself doing that. I am more to forgive for a minute, forget for an hour and remembers for an entire life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113074252227846856?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113074252227846856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113074252227846856' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113074252227846856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113074252227846856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/10/forgiveforgaveand-forgiven.html' title='Forgive..Forgave...and Forgiven'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113041078096202621</id><published>2005-10-27T18:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T18:59:40.973+08:00</updated><title type='text'>motherhood &amp; me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/flowerBaby4.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/flowerBaby3.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, its been slightly more than five, six years or so dat im in this 'motherhood business'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started my full timing doing motherhood a couple of years back. I had to make a very difficult decision at that time. I had to sacrifice my career, my studies, my time, most of my friends and my hobby. No regrets. Although it didnt seem that long, but it seems like ages to me. But im very happy doing it although its a bit of energy cum fat burning process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first i was like 'can i do it, can i cope?'... i put in every best effort dat i can find inside of me to pull this through. As i hav no one to support or lend me a hand. I'm like a multitasker, aka wonderwoman. Most of the time i was very independent and it makes me feel a bit depressed. And now i can see some 'results'...with my hardworking effort. It really paid off. No waste. But there's still a long road ahead of me to go...i'll try to take it one at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But being a young and inexperienced mother at dat time has taught me a lot of things. It brings out the confidence in me. It makes me more independent, braver and it taught me how to be a 'superwoman' (only without her powers). I've been in a situation where no one have gone to and came back standing stronger and stronger by the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Motherhood also taught me to be a little bit more feminine yet aggresive. I can handle situation better now. Whatever it is, you name it, been there done that. I'm sure i can handle anything that is 'thrown' to me now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before, i was quite timid, lack of confidence, cant stand up on my own. Thanx to motherhood, i am very happy with who i am now. Very proud of my childrens as well. Withouth them there's no sunshine in the sky, no moon to light up the night...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three cheers to Motherhood!...hip hip hooray&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113041078096202621?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113041078096202621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113041078096202621' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113041078096202621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113041078096202621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/10/motherhood-me.html' title='motherhood &amp; me'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113032764450686974</id><published>2005-10-26T19:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T19:58:07.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Men...just cant live without them</title><content type='html'>Oh, how i wish it was true...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one is for the ladies:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you ever notice how all women's problems start with MEN?&lt;br /&gt;It finally makes sense now. I never looked at it this way before:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MENtal ilnesses&lt;br /&gt;MENstrual cramps&lt;br /&gt;MENtal breakdown&lt;br /&gt;MENopause&lt;br /&gt;GUYnocologist; and&lt;br /&gt;when we have real trouble, its s HISterectomy...harhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, to be fair, its the guys turn now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOMAN has MAN in it&lt;br /&gt;SHE has HE in it&lt;br /&gt;Mrs has Mr in it&lt;br /&gt;LADY has LAD in it&lt;br /&gt;MADAM has ADAM in it&lt;br /&gt;HOSTESS has HOST in it&lt;br /&gt;FEMALE has MALE in it...and so on, the list is never ending!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, i have nothing against these species called MEN, honest!!&lt;br /&gt;So, no need to be proud...&lt;br /&gt;GIRLS are always incomplete without BOYS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113032764450686974?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113032764450686974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113032764450686974' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113032764450686974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113032764450686974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/10/menjust-cant-live-without-them.html' title='Men...just cant live without them'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-113007353041902264</id><published>2005-10-23T21:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-23T21:18:50.420+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Limited Time</title><content type='html'>It's been a few days dat i hav not made any entry in my journal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I truly miss writing my thoughts and happenings from day to day. Its all because of too limit of a time dat i cant make these entries. I've got sooooo many things to do and catching up with, dat making my entries being postponed for a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope i can catch up soon, maybe tomorrow or so. Right now, buzy with some other projects that really really need my attention very much. If i were to neglect this so called project, then everything will be ruined, flip flop. What a waste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think dat should be all for now. To be continued soon-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-113007353041902264?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/113007353041902264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=113007353041902264' title='83 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113007353041902264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/113007353041902264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/10/limited-time.html' title='Limited Time'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>83</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-112954848060683637</id><published>2005-10-17T18:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T19:28:00.610+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Short Funny Story</title><content type='html'>These are just two of my favorite funny stories that I have kept in my journal for some time and will read them when I need to cheer myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Value of Managing Anger&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was once a couple who had been married for 60 years. They live somewhere in the west part of the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They kept no secrets from each other - except that she has a shoe box at the top of her closet that he was never to open. And then came one day when the old woman became terminally ill and had to be hospitalised. The doctor had told the couple that the wife might not live very long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the woman agreed that it was time to let her husband open the box. Oh boy, was he in for a surprise. In it were two crocheted dolls and $25,000. The husband was puzzled and shocked till his jaw almost kissed the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She explained: "When we were to be married, my grandmother told me that the secret of a happy marriage was anger management. So if you ever got angry with your husband, you should crochet a doll first to calm down".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old man was moved becoz there were only &lt;em&gt;TWO&lt;/em&gt; dolls in the box. so he surmised his wife had only been angry with him twice in 60 years. He said: "Honey, what about the $25,000?"&lt;br /&gt;She replied: "Oh, thats the money I made from selling the dolls I knitted".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tales of the Unexpected&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was this guy on the side of the road hitch-hiking on a very dark and stormy night.  The storm was so strong, he could barely see a few feet ahead of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, he saw a car coming towards him, he flagged down the car to stop. He got in the car and closed the door, only then that he realized that there was nobody behind the wheel! The car starts moving by itself very slowly. The guy looks at the road and sees a curve coming his way. Scared, he starts to pray and begs for his life. And just before the car hits the curve, a hand appears through the window and turns the wheel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The guy, paralysed in terror, watched how the hand appeared each time the car approached a curve. Gathering his strength, he gets out of the car and runs all the way to the nearest town. Wet and in shock, he goes into a pub, asks for two shots of tequilla and starts telling everybody about the horrible experience he just went through A silence enveloped everyone when they realized the guy was crying hysterically and wasnt drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a half hour later, two other guys walk into the same pub and one said to the other, "Hey look, that's the idiot that got into our car while we were pushing it!" chuckled-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-112954848060683637?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/112954848060683637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=112954848060683637' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112954848060683637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112954848060683637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/10/short-funny-story.html' title='Short Funny Story'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-112954543286528928</id><published>2005-10-17T18:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T19:52:36.876+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Simply Humour</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/rings2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 174px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 148px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="138" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/rings2.jpg" width="267" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He said, she said....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He said&lt;/em&gt;: I dont know why you wear a bra, you've got nothing&lt;br /&gt;to put in it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She said&lt;/em&gt;: You wear briefs, dont you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He said&lt;/em&gt;: Do you love me just because my father left me a fortune?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She said&lt;/em&gt;: Not at all honey, I would love you no matter who left&lt;br /&gt;you the money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She said&lt;/em&gt;: What do you mean by coming home half drunk?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He said&lt;/em&gt;: Its not my fault. I ran out of money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He said&lt;/em&gt;: Since I first laid my eyes on you, I've wanted to make&lt;br /&gt;love to you in the worst way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She said&lt;/em&gt;: Well, you've succeeded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He said&lt;/em&gt;: What have you been doing with all the grocery money&lt;br /&gt;I gave you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She said&lt;/em&gt;: Turn sideways and look in the mirror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He said&lt;/em&gt;: Why dont you tell me when you have an orgasm?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She said&lt;/em&gt;: I would, but you're never there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He said&lt;/em&gt;: Shall we try a different position tonight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She said&lt;/em&gt;: That's a good idea. you stand by the ironing board&lt;br /&gt;while I sit on the sofa and fart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-112954543286528928?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/112954543286528928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=112954543286528928' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112954543286528928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112954543286528928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/10/simply-humour.html' title='Simply Humour'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-112947996143547803</id><published>2005-10-17T00:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T00:26:01.446+08:00</updated><title type='text'>'Spa Appointment'</title><content type='html'>Already called to make an appointment for the masseuse to come over to my house. The appointment will be on this Wednesday at 2pm. Can't wait for the actual 'spa-ing' day. Looking forward for a full 'servicing'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It rained the whole day today, so there's not much activities that can be done, no shopping, no outing, nothing. The best thing to do right now is sleep. The weather's so cool, it makes me feel very lazy even to do a simple housework. Anyway, i've done what needs to be done first, like preparing a simple meal for the family - Chicken Rice!..harhar. After dat - off duty till tomorrow morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But just now, a neighbour of mine gave me a few dishes, noodle soup, muffins and curry puff. Thats the tradition she always does for the past five years during this holy month - the fasting month. For myself, sometimes i would return her with the same amount of dishes that she gave me..she also gave my next door neighbour who's Indian. Basically, its just a neighbourly 'thing' for her to give during fasting month and hari raya. Same goes with my Indian neighbour, we would trade cookies, or treats with each other and the other neighbours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, theres nothing to worry if after eating rice, still feeling hungry, there's still noodles and puffs to eat. What a great neighbour i have. Talking about food, makes me hungry..yum yum, but too sleepy and lazy to eat..hmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, its past midnight now, and my eyes are very very sleepy, i dont think i can continue writing anymore. The words seems to be not flowing out, cant think quite straight, think i'll continue in the day or tomorrow. To be continued -&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-112947996143547803?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/112947996143547803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=112947996143547803' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112947996143547803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112947996143547803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/10/spa-appointment.html' title='&apos;Spa Appointment&apos;'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-112937521990876298</id><published>2005-10-15T19:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-16T10:46:39.953+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rejuvenate</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/320/helena_christensen.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Hmmm...what a week. These past few days have been very hectic, rushing and painful for me. There's too many things to do and sooo little time. Deadlines to meet, commitments to attend to (compulsory) and my body have been crying for help...i need a massage, fast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, i think its time for me to rejuvenate, cos every inch of my body aches whether i'm doing something of just lying down. Should i go to a spa or shld i 'invite' the spa to my home. If for my convenience, i think i shld 'invite' them over. It's only been over a month since the last time i had a good relaxing massage and pampering from the 'spa'. It was so damn good dat i fell asleep while being massaged. Even after it had finished, i didnt wake up. I didnt even reliase dat the masseuse had left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels like im in a dream, so good, so relaxed, so peaceful without any disturbance, away from the outside world, as if, im in another world. How i wish i could stay here. A permanent resident of this relaxing and peaceful world..no commitments, no deadlines, no worries and no hurry. Just be happy and do nothing...impossible!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How i wish, i could be pampered everyday, then i wouldnt complain dat much. And deadlines get to be done even before the due date and commitments will be tended to before it needs to. Oh, how great my life would be. Not only dat, how it would be nice, after the rejuvenation, i can have relax some more in a jacuzzi, lunch dinner by the pool then followed by shopping...too much, too much!! (earth calling qaxha, earth calling qaxha..harhar)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No time to waste, must make an appointment rite now!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-112937521990876298?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/112937521990876298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=112937521990876298' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112937521990876298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112937521990876298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/10/rejuvenate.html' title='Rejuvenate'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-112912083463756630</id><published>2005-10-12T20:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T20:41:24.796+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday</title><content type='html'>I think the season for holidaying is coming soon - December, that's when the childrens are having their school break. I wonder if i'm for up one...hmm, not a bad idea cos it's been sometime now dat i have gone for a holiday wif my family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If i remember well, the last time i went for a holiday was in...lets see...2002. We went to Genting Highlands as i have never been there before. It was during the Chinese New Year if not mistaken. We drove there and stayed for 3 days and 2 nights after which we went shopping at KL before heading home. that's about it i think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following year we went to KL again but to a niece's house. Not considered a holiday though cos we went to visit the niece recuperating after an operating. But we manage to drove up to Genting again, only this time just for the sake of fun. Then a bit of shopping and sightseeing again around and in KL before we went back to Singapore...quite boring actually. What to do, cos our main intention was to visit the niece. No plans of holidaying at all...boooring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we reached home it was about 12midnight. We were welcomed by a great shocked of our lives, our house was broken into. Aaaaahh...the whole house was ransacked, jewelleries and cash we stolen. Clothes were thrown everywhere, the chest of drawers are all emptied. Even our thermometer was not spared! The police couldnt find any fingerprints and thus no one was apprehended..so the culprits are out there somewhere. Just hope and pray hard that they have been caught cos we have not receive any news from the Inspector incharge of this case till today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, whenever i got invited to go for a holiday or even the thought of leaving my house for more than a day, gives me the creeps. It will bring back bad memories, i can consider this as a phobia, holidayphobia to be exact. Still cant get over it after three years. So i'll doubt that we'll be going for a holiday this scholl break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there's no harm if i just plan ahead, who knows a miracle might happen and i finally got over it at the very last minute..pray hard really hard!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-112912083463756630?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/112912083463756630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=112912083463756630' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112912083463756630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112912083463756630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/10/holiday.html' title='Holiday'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-112911901740266951</id><published>2005-10-12T19:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T20:10:17.406+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Giver or Taker</title><content type='html'>To give or to take, dat have always been the unanswered question. And there's also a kind of saying 'to give is better than to take'. It also depends on what i give and what i take.. but i've always been the not give and take type..harhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing some soul searching lately cos of someone's remarks against me. Well i can still remember her exact crude remarks, me being selfish, inconsiderate and proud. Oh my gosh! where did all these craps come from? Obviously she doesnt know me well, cant blame her cos we just got to know each other at my daughter's school a few months back but we're not dat close anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started two weeks ago when she asked for my help. She have some problems with her utility bills, her daughter's school fees, her phone bills and her husband who's in lock-up..besides dat she's also a smoker...so shd understand when there's no smoke, all hells break loose. I just redirected her to the proper channel cos i have some problems of my own at dat time. But she upset and angry and started throwing the crude remarks. I was like huh..and my jaw was like almost reaching the ground..its not dat i dont want to help her but i cant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a tongue lashing fight wif me blasting to the maximum my super foul bowel directly to her face and left her ranting and mumbling or whatever else she's doing..it got me really pissed off. Here i am wif my own problems and then come this idiotic woman dumping her problems on my shoulder...who does she think she is??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway got home, cooled down then start calling my other frens from the school to share my encounter wif dat idiot. Happens dat she had tried her luck wif one of my fren earlier. so i'm considered as her next victim, hope dat there'll be no other victims after this. My frens reassured me that the crude remarks have also been thrown at them, so no worries cos i'm nothing like what she described earlier..phew what a relief!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I know dat i would try to help those ppl i care for and those in need. So far i've never disappoint anyone. Maybe its just her approaching me on the wrong day at the wrong time. Well, too bad. So now i know dat i'm &lt;em&gt;NOT&lt;/em&gt; selfish, &lt;em&gt;NOT&lt;/em&gt; inconsiderate and &lt;em&gt;NOT&lt;/em&gt; proud. So i can stop the search, at least i can use the time to search for some good blog sites..harhar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-112911901740266951?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/112911901740266951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=112911901740266951' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112911901740266951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112911901740266951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/10/giver-or-taker.html' title='Giver or Taker'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-112911669627307564</id><published>2005-10-12T18:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-12T19:31:36.276+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where r u $$$$</title><content type='html'>The year's coming to an end wif just abt a month and a half away.  How time flies very fast and so little things have been done over this period. With festive seasons and birthdays to celebrate., where am i going to find extra cash..dont forget the wedding invitations..sigh~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just last sunday i had spent a hundred bucks on marketing + shopping for the childrens clothings. With the prices going up and up and up..no wonder my allowances keep getting insufficient, sometimes it 'dried' up before i got the next allowance...i'm not thrifty nor a miser but there's always something to buy or to pay for in advance...dats why i end up 'bankrupt' most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all there's the groceries and marketing. Then the childrens clothing, although i dont shop every month for their apparels, it seems dat the childrens outgrow from their clothes vey fast. Just three months back, i bought my son a new pair of trousers and shirt and now he's complaining dat its already very tight...and the girl has grown taller making all her skirts and jeans shorter. And their shoes / sandals..their feet grows very fast too. There's always an excuse to shop for new clothings and shoes for the children (and me..harhar).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What abt me, i still hv to tend to my monthly needs..wat a nuisance. Now wif the festive seasons and birthdays and weddings...aarrghhh!! Deepavali on the first of November, then followed by Hari Raya on the third, afterdat there's birthdays till December and then comes Christmas and my best fren's birthday on the next day and weddings in between these holidays. Of course not forgetting the New Year.I think my migraine is starting to attack...touchwood..hopefully its just a normal headache. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday i bumped into Rina, she ask whether i could lend her fifty bucks...and my bruder also just called to ask for the same...besides dat there's also the children's a month upfront school fees for next year to be paid that already comes to one hundred and fifty...oh boy...money money money..why dont u grown on trees. Unlike the money plant, its just a name which doesnt bore anything...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh gosh, the headache is killing me. I think i'd better pop some pills and get some rest first. Maybe i'll continue writing later. Or who knows i have a great solution to these money woos..cross my fingers and toes..better still bind them..gulp!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-112911669627307564?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/112911669627307564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=112911669627307564' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112911669627307564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112911669627307564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/10/where-r-u.html' title='Where r u $$$$'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-112878648114131416</id><published>2005-10-08T23:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-15T19:43:26.030+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Matters of The Heart</title><content type='html'>I vouch to give you my heart and soul...blah blah blah...yada yada yada...till death do us part...dats wat newlywed couples do on their wedding day. I swear to you and you swear to me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah rite...not until a year or two later... dat he will swear you and you swear him upside down inside out in the heat of an argument. Matters of the heart is a very very sensitive issue...mind you...nothing you can play or fool around with. See wat happens when you betray the heart...the brain becomes malfunction and the soul is gone...snatch by the devil...prompting you to do evil and stupid things to your partner, making you his crime partner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its all in the papers actually, almost everyday you will read such stories relating to broken betrayed heart...i read them almost everyday. Its a pity story actually...man loves woman..get cheated by her...ego gets big..cant take the blow...and finish her off. Whereas the woman's part..she loves the man wholeheartedly...got ditched over some young beautiful and sexy chick...got depressed...blame everything on herself for not trying harder to be as beautiful and sexy as the young chick..ends up-found lying on the block's void deck or on the toilet floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont understand why they hv to go through those miserable moments alone or they hv to take those stupid actions...its really a waste of a gd life...but for us its an extra space of oxyen to breathe in...harhar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it their ego or their mentallity that is not strong or stable enough to make them think straight...But talking is not as easy as being in their shoe...but i'll bet dat if it were me...i'll start off wth screaming and shouting my head off after finding my partner is having an affair...after dat i'll either dump him before asking him to compensate the years i've wasted my time with him or i'll try to give him a second chance. There's a saying 'fogive and forget'...but in my case...i'll forgive him but never forget!! How's dat rather than taking silly and stupid actions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My principle hav always been very straight and simple...if you love me...be faithful and honest to me...but likewise tell it to my face and we can end it nicely and peacefully so dat nobody gets hurt and we can always be on talking terms if we were to meet somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for myself, i'm a one woman man!! No gimmicks!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-112878648114131416?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/112878648114131416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=112878648114131416' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112878648114131416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112878648114131416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/10/matters-of-heart.html' title='Matters of The Heart'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-112878322292283083</id><published>2005-10-08T22:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-16T00:35:13.110+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cartoons Cartoons</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/1600/sylvester.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6387/1701/400/sylvester.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I woke up dis morning quite late cos it was raining and furthermore i slept at about 3.30am...wat was i doing til the wee hours of morning..wat else surfing and reading blogs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, took my bath then settled my children..so we sat down and watched cartoon...my favorite channel..especially Disney Channel's..Mickey Mouse and Friends...favourite show since i was a kid myself. Suddenly my daughter and my son started fighting over the tv remote control..she wanted to watch Kids Central and my son wants to watch Cartoon Network..hmmm&lt;br /&gt;kids...wat do they not fight over for..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all brings back to my own memories of how it used to be me and my brother doing the same...but in those days..there werent any color tvs...only black and white pictures...how sad were those days...plus no remote...u hv to manually change the channel by turning the knob clockwise or anti-clockwise...we would always fight...i mean fight...pillow fight or throwing anything we can catch hold of...just becoz of a silly cartoon show.And usually my brother would win...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the tv itself is already so old til sometimes the sound will 'disappear'...so we have to bang on it or under it just to 'recover' the sound back...harhar. so when color tvs are 'in', we still didnt hv the chance to watch color cartoons cos my parents couldnt afford it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my brother and I would go over to our neighbours house to watch tv cos theirs is color!! Not until six months later, we were surprised by our father bringing back a big box with a color tv inside..we were so terribly happy dat we didnt leave the house the whole day to go out and play like we normally do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But like i say, my brother is always the first to get his hands on the tv or to 'control' it, i would say...and i would always get the leftover...pity me.But its different wif my children, my son would always win any 'match' and left the sister crying. But eventually, he would give in to his sister and all is merry again!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-112878322292283083?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/112878322292283083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=112878322292283083' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112878322292283083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112878322292283083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/10/cartoons-cartoons.html' title='Cartoons Cartoons'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17615371.post-112877999851216475</id><published>2005-10-08T21:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-08T21:59:58.516+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fourthbaby</title><content type='html'>Today is Saturday 8 October 2005.&lt;br /&gt;This is my new Weblog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will update my blog very soon.&lt;br /&gt;At the moment stay funky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17615371-112877999851216475?l=fourthbaby.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/feeds/112877999851216475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17615371&amp;postID=112877999851216475' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112877999851216475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17615371/posts/default/112877999851216475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fourthbaby.blogspot.com/2005/10/fourthbaby.html' title='Fourthbaby'/><author><name>Kay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16526389187632176974</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>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
