what a dramatic ending to the world cup 2010 - with team butler drawing italy/france/brazil/germany in the dying seconds of extra time. butlerman is in total control of the match now with his suave movements and slick passing, and on his peak, he breaks through the defence with sublime skill, rounding the 'keeper. 2 feet from the line, and smack bang in the centre, he looks prime to finish off this wonderful tournament which showed the newcomer team from the newly formed nation of Butlertopia(? ran short on creativity) cruise through to the finals. he can do nothing wrong now! not this close! not so fucking close! at the top of his form, life never seems to good! HE SCUFFS IT. it sails over the bar accompanied by the silence of the crowd. his right ankle twists and snaps, spraining his calves and thighs in the process, falling down to crack a rib and develop hernia, ramming his head into hard ground, decimating his two front teeth. what an absolute disaster. butlertopia's football team will never attain such heights again.

ohhhh.

my....

GOD.

WHAT THE HELL DID BUTLERMAN DO TO DISPLEASE YOU.

WHAT DID BUTLERMAN DO WRONG RECENTLY.

WHY.

-pauses to catch his breath and calm down-

i shall now explain why i am in such a state. to the beng/lian imbecile (who in the first place, shouldn't be reading this blog - ITS WRITTEN BY A MAN WITH A GREATER CONSCIENCE FOR PEOPLE WITH A BRAIN. to find out if you are one, read my older articles) who stumbled upon this secret treasure trove, anything above that was in italics (like this) was a metaphor. meh-ta-four. a scenario thats not literal but rather, explains a situation that i'm in. oh fuck it. go read a dictionary you illiterate bastard. ill-i-te-rate you tit.

when i finish my explanation, you will understand why i have descended into the pits of lunacy - thus talking to imaginary people. or rather, pretending as if people read my blog.

have you ever felt as if you are on top of the world? nothing can bring you down? you are lord over the sheep, shepherd over the people, etc etc.

and then wham. someone walks up to you, and kicks you in the balls (a.k.a where you hurt most)

well i have. and when you are a superhero - things hurt more when you hit rockbottom.

butlerman cannot bear to say what has happened. but it hurts. so bad.

butlerman must mope about his house now.

butlerman walks off
TO THE BATMOBILE

in order to continue with today's edition of butlerman comics, we have to drop a hint on his alter ego. -whispers-he plays rugby-whispers-

its in such adverse weather conditions playing an exhausting game that you realise that you've gone half addled through countless batterings and notice the strangest things. in one of today's moments of attaining a higher conscience (and nearly dying along the way) that i realise - people have the strangest of haircuts.

though i barely even completed half-a-half as the coach pulled me out due to an ongoing injury problem and wanted to give me a run-out (flex flex, so professional!), i noticed from the game before and the current one that rugby players, or singaporeans as a whole, have strange hairstyles.

while i sport a seemingly-innocent spike with natural hair coloring intact, i cannot vouch the same for some i encountered. one of them, a chinese mix (i can't tell with what, but he wasn't pure chinese) had a wild long hairdo that puts p.o.d.'s lead singer Sonny, or for that matter, shaggy from scooby doo to shame.

another, a tall indian, an ex-acsi player, had a respectable short crew cut with a less respectable ancient-chinese-pugilist-like 'tail' of hair hanging from the middle of his head. but to their credit, both had similarly exotic attitudes to match their hairstyles and were reasonably comical figures.

others had a variety of orange locks flowing to shoulder length that wouldn't look out of place in a drag queen fashion show, and an arsenal of coloured spikes waxed (and probably sharpened at knifepoint) to the point you could skewer someone on it.

butlerman understands a lil vanity here and there goes a long way in both mating and man-to-man challenges. even the Celts waxed their hair in order to look threatening (not to confuse with Celtic football-crazed supporters, who are bald, otherwise bodily-hairy threatening drunks). batman might not have the best of hairdo's (esp. in clooney's case) but at least he had a nice pair of horns on his mask to make up, and robin had an average crew cut, but nobody cares about him anyway. superman had his well-laquered armani style with that lil curl at the forehead to symbolise his superiority. thankfully women don't have as bad a problem as guys do (so i think - well its either short or long, both can look good), or i'll be here all day.

until next time - adios
TO THE BATMOBILE

as the gap between each blog entry lengthens, the initial euphoria of a freshly-started blog wears off, and i start to have equally-lengthy-and-blackish eyebags. being a superhero is a strenious task, and i quote "with great power, comes even greater responsibility". and writing a superheroic blog comes with it, strange looks, and stranger writing style (compare mine, and someone else's you knows)

however, less blogs = more worth. think of it this way, my blog contents can be taken as a jug of peanut butter (mmm... nutty), and each entry as a slice of wholemeal bread (healthy!). less bread = tastier peanut butter sandwich as more can be spread on each lovely piece of bread. mmm mmm.

strange fantasies aside, it is proven that better things come less often then the harsh realities of life. e.g. how often do you get to meet that guy/girl of your dreams as compared to that bloody-overly-irritating/self-assumed-superstar-classmate who seems to have clones of him/herself all over the school?

in today's edition of blog, we shall explore the strange mysteries of singaporean lifestyle, that even though i've been here all my life, i'm still puzzled by - (drumroll)

NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC CHANNEL SOMEWHAT PROUDLY PRESENTS

1) pEoPlE WhO tAlK lYk tHiS or thereabouts. i'm not a fan of long distance running, but after a somewhat inspiring speech by S. Kunalan, singapore's athletic idol (a bald aging indian), who explained that running releases endorphins which then excite the body. i still don't feel excited when i run, but at least it makes sense.
the strange typing style/speech, which i term "bullshit" ( i haven't thought of a term yet - i'll get back to you. i can't do much thinking in my state of mind) perhaps confuses the user into thinking they are projecting a clean, healthy image of a cool, drug-using, half-addled, black-hair-coloured-blond, hot sexy chink. note to self: not hot and sexy. i'm sorry for using stereotypes, but i've identified trends in the users.
(a) the big-small variation of the language (e.g. jAsOn My kOr, sO cUtE) is found mostly among the chinese girls, and strangely enough, all seem to know one another, find each other cute and are neighbourhood school students.
(b) the x-factor(?) variation of the language (e.g. helloX! LOLX, so CUTEXXXXXXXX) is used almost solely among the supposed-alpha-males of the neighbourhood schools, or a few cases in the top end of singapore's education. found on friendster with names such as ".-=bBoY AcIdX=-."... oh my god.

2) people who have kor's(brother) and gor's(another spelling version of brother) and meimei's(younger sister) and jiejie's(older sister) and baba's(dad) and mama's(if you can't get this, you deserve a slap in the head) all over cyberworld. found most commonly on blogs/friendsters/etc/etc. i understand the whole blood brother, triad gang member, i-die-for-you-and-you-hopefully-would-return-the-favour. this trend however extends to nearly all forms of lifeforms - from bengs and lians to well-off-people and even friends.

hopefully with more experience with other singaporeans, i would come out with a suitable answer to this phenomenon. to think i was puzzled enough with the emergence of singlish (and still am, with questions ranging from - if the chinese 'created' it, why aren't mainland chinese using it, to - why am i using it occasionally).

until then,
TO THE BATMOBILE

if batman is actually a playboy cum philanthropist who flirts with herbologists-turned-evil-plantwomen, and superman is in actual fact a higher species who came to earth to play investigator-reporter while exploring cheap thrills of stripping in public phonebooths -

then what the hell does butlerman do while in the form of his alternate identity? today's 'journal' session shall proudly attempt to document the progress of butlerman's holiday lifestyle.

butlerman's top ten things to do while on holiday (note i might not have completed some of these, if i did, this blog would never have started. read blog entry 1 to find out why)
10) fool about with the games on his computer
9) watch an old movie with best friend (e.g. predator)
8) attempt to play a real-time-strategy game without cheats and fail completely
7) attempt to sing with best friend (e.g. seal - kiss from a rose)
6) walk an extraordinary long distance with friends
5) club
4) club with one or more girlfriends
3) watch any movie with a girlfriend
2) watch any movie with girlfriends
1) everything that might come after 2, 3, or 4

the top ten things butlerman has done this holiday due to his computer dying on him*
(check bottom of this entry to read full title)
10) walk home from indoor stadium in 1 hour 30 mins
9) talk to guys
8) talk to girls
7) get a new hairstyle (funkay)
6) get complimented by female hairstylist ("wah, your sideburns so nice. all angmohs can have nice sideburns unlike our singaporean guys" i'm serious)
5) rugby training
4) rugby training
3) watch aviva open badminton championships 2004
2) write blogs - even though nobody actually reads them (if you are reading this now, pat yourself on your back)
1) get 1 comment on my blog WOOHOO

now how the hell, am i suppose to survive the rest of my holiday if i have accomplished nearly everything i can.

-"i will survive" plays in background-

-song continues-

-song continues-

-song continues-

-song finishes-

-song starts again-

-and again-

-and again-

welcome to my life. to do a difference, please talk to me.
remember thats 239-69-69-69*. female only hotline.
ladies, follow me
TO THE BATMOBILE

*the top ten/only things that butlerman has done this holiday due to his computer dying on him and a serious lack of social communication and ostracization (i think i spelt that right)
*all numbers are somewhat coincidental

the episode thing has been done away with. i only know of 2 starwars episodes.
my bad.

-seconds tick away as butlerman struggles to defuse the situation, sweat trickles from his brow down into a magnificently-muscled body (it is the virtual world), but all for naught. 3...2...1... butlerman closes his eyes, waiting for inevitable doom-

my pie has been burnt in the microwave. all 500g of crust, beef and cheesy goodness. which reflects my day, really. today's set of reflections are titled - "Butlerman's confessions"

"these are my confessions... just when I thought I said all I could say... dumdeedumdeedumdum"

i wake up at 9, write an entry in this supposed 'journal' and get ready to go to queensway to get a nice pair of boots. if things went my way, i would be ready to leave by 12, get them by 1 and i would have been on my way to AVIVA SINGAPORE OPEN BADMINTON CHAMPIONSHIP 2004! (kindly sponsored by yonex, and singapore sports council).

however at 12, i recieve a message from my friend notifying me that it starts at 1! ALRIGHT! TO THE BATMOBILE. (1st incident regarding UNDESERVED pressure)

i get there slightly behind time to see china's yong min, lose to china's zhao ying (something like that) in the womens singles.

and then i get to watch indonesia thrash malaysia (who in turned thrashed singapore in semi's) in the mixed category. all goes well until i have to put myself through an hour watching flippin china beat thailand in womens doubles. one hour. uno hour (spanish). yi ke hour (chinese). satu hour (malay). one hour lah (beng).

this was quickly followed by a relatively quick bout between denmark and malaysia, with malaysia winning comfortably in the finals of mens doubles.

then it was the big one -echoes- big one, big one, big one.
the mother of all aviva singapore open badminton championship matches... -echoes- the mother of all aviva singapore open badminton championship matches,the mother of all aviva singapore open badminton championship matches,the mother of all aviva singapore open badminton championship matches.

THE MEN'S SINGLES between a 1.6m tall malaysian and a 2.6m tall danish.
this particular big one took another friggin hour to complete. at least it managed to jumpstart my heart into a weak, irregular pulse after the whole farce of the first few series of finals.

thus concludes the 2nd incident of UNDESERVED pressure.

i then spend half and hour deciding which bus stop to take 608 from, until we realised that 608 doesn't run on a weekend. 3rd incident.

i see similarly aged girls in singlets (wow.) of the dragonboat regiment (jaw drops as girls even more butch then me walk past) 4th incident.

i walk home from indoor stadium with my posse of screaming idiots that are my friends. that took another hour and a half. 5th incident.

i turn on the com to be confronted with blog-requests. ok it was one request.
and a supposed second request by her MG friend claiming i was hilarious.

now im not sure whether she meant my blog, or me, but i took it to be the latter, and promptly broke down into a puddle of tears.

how would batman feel if we called him a homosexual twitch cos he has an scandolous old male servant and a young puss-of-a-boy acrobat called robin as friends.

how would superman feel if we called him a daft nerd cause of his horn-rimmed 'secret disguise' spectacles that make him look like a geek nsman who took too much GNC muscle-toner, and that he looked like a gay twat when he was a teenager (smallville) who doesn't deserve kristin kruek. (i do)

UNDESERVED pressure. i reinforce my statements.

and i shall leave you with that.

-sniffles and makes his way
TO THE BATMOBILE

EPISODE II - the attack of a monotone [life]
(attack of the clones - the titles are getting worse, i know)

much as i hate this 'spree' of boredom, it has brought me to a conclusion.
that butlerman = edgar allan poe!

to prove it, like any simple science experiment i have learnt throughout this year's acs(i) enriching science programme.
-------------------------------------------------------
similarities

butlerman - going crazy, restlessness, dark and hansome, and a genius
edgar allan poe - is crazy, never rests (how else do you explain those eyebags), dark and brooding, and a genius

difference

butlerman - drives the batmobile, george clooney lookalike (i do drive the batmobile... comes with the car), probably twice mr.poe's size
edgar allan poe - n/a (no actual reference to his health/body/state of mind, whereas in the latter its quite obvious if you read his poems)
-----------------------------------------
brilliance in the making...
if only it wasn't so BLOODY BORING
(moody temper swings! closer and closer to achieving mr.poe's literary skills)

and as a final proof, check out this trick, a la Robert Langdon (from Da Vinci Code) style,

POE is Martin (my alter-ego), Shizzle-my-nizzle!

read out the bolded text to find out it spells POEMS. i am indeed a genius.

and a macdonald's breakfast burger beckons the ever-bored soul of the newfoundgenius.

and my heart aches aloud at the poorly-disguised attempts at humoring you (now i know the reason of my downfall).

and like batman - i have secrets that cannot be shared -lightning crackles outside window-

and southampton lost. f*ck. to Norwich. double f*ck.

and speaking of phucks. i have been falsely accused by fellow rugby compatriots of watching a porn video called magdelene's diary. or was it emily's diary. of which i have not heard off in my life. until yesterday.

and i sign off today/this morning (depending on how i feel, i might write another entry later) customary butlerman's style
TO THE BATMOBILE

my day is complete. 15 hours awake doing a useful bunch of nothing. another day into the life of 7 Siglap Rd's residential hero, Butlerman..

EPISODE I: Butlerman's Heartaches
(so it doesn't rhyme that well with "the Phantom Menace" sue me)

9.00am: wake up, stumble into bathroom, prune my new hairstyle, before collapsing on basin trying to brush teeth.
9.14am: go to sleep.
10:30am: wake up again for breakfast. big breakfast. fastfood calorie-goodness. mmm mmm. perfect for a day's healthy start.
11am: go out to have some fun. or so i believed.
2pm: skipping lunch, i rush to rugby. houston, we have a problem. gloom starts to set in.
2.30pm: rehab work. wonderful.
5.30pm: 4km run. it's getting better.
7pm: training ends. i have never felt more worse in my life. (can't be the rugby - i wouldn't in 1 piece if it was - think of the word "overkill")
8pm: blog started. an hour spent banging head into keyboard figuring how to get it started.
9pm: recieves first of few smses to revive myself. messenger has been turned on - it helps.
10pm: manchester winning 2-0. doom has set into my life. thank god they arent playing southampton.
10:24pm: heart starts aching. -love's divine by Seal plays in background "giiiive me loooove"-
10:25pm: looks for love. (note: at this point i forgot that love=butlerman's kryptonite)
10:26pm: bored shitless. hungry. (not for love. the rugby player hungers for food)

like a bad movie, i shall end this halfway. stay tuned for EPISODE II- Attack of *cough*cough* (i'll think of something later - when i'm less braindead, if there is such a thing)

to infinity and beyond-
or, we can settle for
TO THE BATMOBILE

as much as i would like to jump straight into personal, superficial, problems a la John-Woo-both-guns-ablazing-indiana-jones-action style, an introduction must be given-

name - martin eddie butler
age - born in 1990. go figure
school - acs(i)an and semi-proud of it.

fav. music - hip hop on a good day, r&b on a bad one.
fav. movies - predator, LOTR, micheal moore films, supersize me.
fav. read - dan brown books/any book that i bother reading past the first chapter.
fav. food - good medium-rare steak anyday, indian food.
fav. drink - coke.
fav. sport - rugby, soccer, pool.

-thus concluded, this should roughly give you an idea about me. and having just spent the past half and hour figuring out how to start this "journal". im fully exhausted, ticked off at not spending such and such time ranting about the problems i have encountered in the 5,126 days i have been in this world. as you have already noticed - i have much catching up to do.