Eating Out

So I found myself alone at home during dinner time, feeling very hungry and having nothing to eat.

Not wanting to starve to death and feeling damn sick of the nearby hawker center food -and- having no one to accompany me, I decided to make my way down to Lot 1 to have my dinner, -alone-.

Now, many people I know will balk at eating out alone and they will most probably order a take away instead but me, I am a hardened veteran of having my meals alone and most of the time, I prefer to eat out then to order a take away, for beside being an antisocial single guy, I also happen to be a Dota Addict and strangely, most of the time, my Dota Khakis like to have their game during my meal times.

Athough I am a man of iron will, the pull of a Dota game almost always proved to be stronger and thus, many a times I will end up having my meal while playing Dota.

As studies from Harvard have shown that multitasking while eating is an especially unhealthy habit and with me trying to lead a healthy lifestyle, I found myself eating out more and more often.

However, if you were to eat out alone as often as I do, you will find out that most makan places are not singles friendly at all. (It is as if those eating establishment do not welcome businesses from single people or maybe it is just a ploy of the Government to make life difficult for single people in a bid to make them get hitched and increase Singapore's population)

First of all, seats are problem if you are not eating in those high class places where there are waiters to serve you.

As I am a poor guy, I mostly eat out at food courts or fast food restuarants where there are free seatings (Free seatings in this case mean that you have to literally fight off others for your seat) and when you are eating alone, it is generally agreed upon that you can only go for the couples seat (aka the table for two).

It is considered very unfriendly to deprive a big group of their seats (the only exception being when you are starving and near death) when you are alone mostly because a big group of people can hit u harder then a lovey dovey couple can.

Secondly, after you identified the seats that you can go for, you will discover the second problem of eating alone.

There is no one to chope your seat for you.

Now in this situation, there are basically only 2 things you can do:

1) Technique One, also known as the Declaring The Table Under Your Territory Technique.

This technique involves placing any or whatever items that you have on the table/seats and thus declaring that the table belongs to you.

Generally, it is not a good idea to use valuables (such as your hand phone or your branded bag) for this technique for most probably you will lose your seat -and- your valuables. To be really safe, you should always bring a packet of tissue paper with you when eating out.

The tissue paper will allow you to execute the famous Tissue Paper technique (which basically involves you placing a packet of tissue paper on the table and thus announcing to all that the table now belongs to you).

2) Technique Two, also known as the Buy Food First And Hope To Find Seats Later Technique.

This method is mostly for those who do not have packets of tissue paper with them and also for those with an adventurous spirit.

For those who want to use this technique, it is very useful for you to also learn the Art of Acting Pitiful.

In order to get a seat, you have to first take your tray of food and stand near to a table where the occupants have almost finished their food. Then you have to look at those occupants with puppy dog eyes and basically try to look as pitiful and hungry as possible.

It is also helpful to keep hinting to the occupants that you are really hungry. Stomach growling is a good way, but if you are unable to achieve that, you can also try muttering that you are really very hungry.

For my dinner tonight, I used technique two to get my seat (a four seater) from this elderly couple who have just finished their food.

While I was enjoying my meal though, an auntie approached with her two very young and cute kids and asked whether I can share the seats.

While I recognized this technique as the I Have 3 People And You Only Have 1 So You Better Fucking Share The Seats With Us Technique, I being the nice person that I am, gladly agreed to share the seats.

However, after plonking the two kids (a boy of about four or five years old and a girl of about six or seven years old) on the seats in front of me, the auntie then left to buy food leaving me alone with her two kids.

While she was gone though, the young boy started firing a series of questions at me in English while his sister started playing with her hair or something.

Boy: "So what are you eating?"

Me: "um... Japanese food?" (I have no idea what I was eating actually, just that it was number 22 on the menu and consists of beef and fried salmon)

Boy:"So what is that?"

The boy asked, pointing at my bowl of soup.

Me: "Soup?"

Boy:"Oh... and what is that?"

The boy asked again, pointing at the salmon this time.

Me:"Salmon."

I was giving single word answers to project my unwillingness to reply to his never ending questions. But strangely though, the boy could not take the hint.

Boy:"Ok... and what is that?"

The boy was persistent and irritatingly curious as he pointed at the beef inside my tray.

Me:"um... that's a beef stew... I think..."

Boy: "Is it nice? Can I have some?"

Now, I wouldn't have minded giving him some of the beef stew, if only just to shut him up for a while but somehow, I don't think his mum would have appreciated a stranger giving food to her son and so I just smiled at him without answering and then hurriedly tried to finish my dinner.

Boy: "So what are you doing here?"

The question really stumped me and I was considering telling him that I was there to enjoy my dinner in peace and quiet when the boy's sister spoke for the first time.

Girl: "He's here to eat his dinner, stupid." (I seriously hope that the stupid refers to her brother and not me)

I shot the girl a grateful smile and gulped down my food, anxious to leave the table for the boy's interrogation is making me sweat more than a little but I was also a little bit worried to leave those 2 young kids alone at the table.

Luckily, the auntie returned with her trays of food just as I was about to finish my dinner. Swallowing the last morsel I hastily left the table.

On hindsight, I supposed that I was approached to share my table because I look like a nice guy.

I resolved to perfect my I Am Sibeh Unfriendly So Don't Approach Me to Share My Table look so that I will not be caught in such an awkward position when eating out the next time.

I Am Sibeh Unfriendly So Don't Approach Me to Share My Table Look

P.S. As usual, the entry contains a lot of crap from me and anyone who might take offense from it should treat this post as nonsensical ramblings.

Badminton And The Souvenirs From Japan

Badminton was one of my favorite sport while growing up and though it seemed ages ago, I could still remember how me and my neighbors used to spend the evenings of our school holiday playing at the outdoor badminton court near our house.

Back then, our neighbors were so close that they were kind of like our extended family.

Having grown up with each other and being of similar age, we would often jio each other out to cycle or play at the playground downstairs or if feeling really bored, we would cycle over to little Gui Lin to catch turtles and raced the turtles that we have caught.

Those days, most of our evenings would be spent on playing badminton. There were around 4-5 of us each evening as we have our one vs one knockout match. The rules were simple, the winner gets to stay and the loser gets kicked out after being taunted mercilessly.

Us being poor kids, our badminton games were played mainly on the outdoor badminton court near our house and thoughts of playing in an indoor court never even crossed our minds.

This also means that we were subjected to all kinds of weather conditions while we played though mostly, we played on regardless of the weather.

We played when our shots were curled left and right by the winds, we played under the scorching sun, we played on even when its drizzling.

In fact, the only time when we were not playing was when there's a thunderstorm and that was only with our parents threatening to kill us if the lightning did not.

Back then, I was so into badminton that I taught my little sister how to play. I figured that I would combine two of my favorite activities (playing badminton and bullying my sister) into one and save myself some time.

Playing badminton with my sister used to be a breeze. I would easily trash her 11-0 even when playing with my off hand and on hindsight, I think that part of the reason that I like playing badminton so much back then was because I can irritate my sister to no end by laughing at her after she lost a game. (For reasons unknown, I get much entertainment by irritating my little sister and my elder brother gets his entertainment from irritating me AND my little sister. I wonder if this hold true for all siblings or is it because a sadistic streak runs in our family)

All this changed when my sis joined her school badminton club. I could no longer win her with any ease, in fact, most badminton games with her had me ducking for cover as she smashed the shots at me left right center. Badminton was no longer fun when someone half a head shorter then you bullies you at it. To this day, I blame my sis for my loss of interest in the sport.

Recently though, it seems that everyone around me is playing badminton again. My elder brother was playing it weekly, Chunkin joined his school's badminton club and even my current neighbors play on almost every Sunday (I know because they come over to my house to borrow our shuttle cocks on Sundays).

So while it came as no surprise when Zhongda asked me to help him book a court at Choa Chu Kang Stadium 2 weeks ago for today, I was surprised though that we actually need to book 2 weeks in advance in order to get the court and that the bill actually comes up to $14.80 for 2 hours at a single court.

At first, the only people supposed to be playing were Zhongda, Zhongda's cousin, Zhongyong and Zhongyong's girlfriend. However, on that day itself, Chunkin, Da Jie and I decided to join in. Alan was also supposed to come but he said that he didn't have the energy to play as he had been talking to a girl on the phone till 5am and our game is at 9am.

Playing in an indoor court was very different from playing in an outdoor one. Your shots mostly go where you want them to go with no interference from the wind and the wooden floor provides better friction then the dirty concrete floor of an outdoor court.

While we were having our 2v2 knockout matches, Da jie seemed to be the one having the most fun. She was hopping around exuberantly after each shot (leaving an insane amount of sand from her muddy shoes onto the polished wooden floor), urging her team mate to smack the shots at their opponents.

In fact, Da Jie was so 'high' that I was seriously beginning to suspect her of being on drugs. And as the wooden floor gets more and more scratch marks from her muddy shoes and her non-stop hopping I begin to cast furtive glances at the staff of the badminton court, praying hard that they won't notice the damaged floors and ask us to pay for the re-polishing.

Halfway through the game, I noticed something interesting about Da Jie's psycho-motor skills. While she can return shots that were to the left, right or front of her, shots that were hit past her were beyond her ability to return as she seemed incapable of walking backwards.

Being the sportsmen that we were, we immediately begin to exploit this very weird weakness of Da Jie while Da Jie's cousin (who had the misfortune to be paired with her most of the time haha) was left running all over the court to try to cover her weak point.

We played through our 2 hours without any incident or any staff approaching us. My arms were aching like a sore tooth and I seemed to be the only one sweating like a pig after the game (further proof of my fitness).

After showering at home, I made my way to Zhongda's house to have my free lunch. Upon reaching, I found Da Jie telling her boyfriend how she had dominated in the morning badminton game and the 2 facts that I can draw from this:

1) Da Jie has a great potential to be a story teller, albeit a very untruthful one
2) Whatever drugs that she had taken earlier on had not worn off yet.

And as we were talking, it turns out that Da Jie did buy back some souvenirs from her trip to Japan a few weeks ago. And these were what she bought.

Who in the right frame of mind would buy cup noodles as souvenirs?

Knowing that we were going to the KTV later, Da Jie got the maid to put those souvenirs in a plastic bag and forced asked me to take them before they expired, wtf lol.

Regardless, I sincerely want to thank Da Jie for getting me something from her trip even if they are something that seemed to be pick up as an afterthought. =.=


P.S. As usual, the entry contains a lot of crap from me and anyone who might take offense from it should treat this post as nonsensical ramblings.

Funny Post By The Great Sze

Was doing some random surfing sometime ago when I came across this very funny post by The Great Sze. So here it is in its entirety, lifted straight from his blog.

==============================================================

Why Girls' Blog More Popular than Boys' Blog in Singapore

The premise for today is: Girls' blog is more popular than boys' blog, at least in Singapore.

The premise for today is deliberately written in poor English, but I am too insecure to just let it stand there on its own without this qualifier.

Next, we move on to our primary inquiry for today: WHY is girls' blog more popular than boys' blog in Singapore?

I venture a few answers.

1. Girls' blog got more pictures

In general, any old boy will start a blog. If he has interest in Gundam, he will start a blog showcasing Gundam. If he has interest in leapfrogging iguanas, he will start a blog showcasing leapfrogging iguanas etc etc.

A girl will start a blog if she thinks she is pretty.

Then she will put many many many picture of herself on the blog. I am not insinuating that these think-they-are-pretty girls have nothing of worth to say. They have probably, however, done a cost-benefit analysis: if I have to type something, it will require effort, and time, and creativity. But if I put a picture of myself up, the process is relatively instantaneous, AND at the same time I can get external validation of my physical appearance!

So in the interests of minimum effort, maximum results, these think-they-are-pretty girls put up photos of themselves.

There is of course a sub-group of ugly but articulate girls. These girls' blogs, you will notice, are very unpopular. People don't really read the text on blogs; least of all, people do not want to read what ugly people have to say. If you are still reading this entry, thank you, you're quite good looking yourself too.

Then finally there is the amazing mind-blowing sub-group of PRETTY and ARTICULATE girls. These like giant pearl in big ocean with only 2 oysters.

In any case, from my extensive field surveys, I come to the conclusion that both boys and girls ogle girl photos, but boy photos are seldom ogled. Boys will of course not ogle other boys, ours being a very correct heterosexual nation. And girls will never admit to ogling boys. Even in front of the computer screen girls will only look at boy photo out of the corner of their eye, and then look away and pretend to be inspecting toenail. Like that who will read boys blog? The boys all think "Haiyah this guy is a pussy", and the girls keep averting their eyes from the computer screen. Gone case already.

Furthermore, local boys are ugly. This is actually not my opinion. I have very low standards, I think local boys are OK. But a lot of my "too-cool-for-school" peers like to have a go at local boys. So this is the prevalent mindset, and the girls think so too. Girls come from this planet where everyone looks like Kwon Sang Woo, so we cannot blame them. In fact we should be grateful they have not all died off as a result of sexual frustration.

2. Girls write better

Supposedly girls have more powerful language skills than boys. Last time when we were all killing Shredder and Krang with Splinter, girls were busy reading dictionaries. As a result today girls can all speak very well. This makes for easier, more therapeutic reading. Also some people I know, when they read girls' blog, they imagine the girl whispering the words into their ear. This is something that cannot be done for boys' blog.

3. Girls have a lot more to talk about

Girls live to communicate, to be in harmony, to synchronize periods. Boys just want to kill each other. Apart from giving us an insight into the average intelligence of each gender, this fact also results in girls' blogs being more interesting. Let us say, the same thing happens to a boy and girl: some old aunty cut the queue of the blogger at the hawker centre.

*

GIRL: I am so pissed! Today I was lining up to buy my favourite char kway teow at Ghim Moh (Ghim Moh PWNZ Newton!! Nyahhhh!):

(insert picture of girl lining up)

(insert picture of girl sticking tongue out and lining up)

(insert shaky self-taken picture of girl and photographer)

Then you know what happen?? This AUNTY came and pretend not to see me! And then she CUT RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!!!

(insert picture of aunty's rear profile)

(insert picture of girl's hand making dirty sign at aunty's rear profile)

*RAWR* I was, like, totally going to let her have a piece of my mind lah! And den my darling (insert ridiculous idiotic sweetytalk name here) told me to keep cool. I only managed to hold it in!! *RAWWWRRRRRRRRRRRR*

*pouts* Am feeling grumpy now. The char kway teow tasted lousier! I am sure that aunty's bad aura tainted it!

*

BOY: Nabe todae lao cheebye cut mi Q.

4. Girls readily post comments on other girls' blogs; nobody comments on boys' blogs

A blog that no one comments on is a lousy, unpopular blog.

This point is actually linked to the above one. Girls live to communicate, so they will readily affirm/encourage/support their friends' (or even strangers') blogs. Comments like "you go girl!" and "that's so pretty!!! you always manage to look good in whatever you wear!!" fall like locusts fall from heaven every time a girly blog is concerned. Contrast with boys' blog: nobody comments. or if they do, it usually is of the 1D10+1c l337 5p34k variety.

The reason for non-commenting on boys' blog is straightforward. Boys will not comment on other boys' blog, because the whole aim of existing as a boy is to kill other boys (and to make Gundam). You do not talk to your prey. You just look at their blogs and scoff at them, observe their living patterns and then stake them out for the final kill.

Girls, on the other hand, will not comment on boys' blog because if a GIRL comments on a BOY'S blog, it is damn BO SEI!!! Then everyone will think the girl like the boy! How can like that! Cannot cannot! Girl must sit at home surrounded by flower and spray perfume, staring at her Kwon Sang Woo poster and then one day the boy will show up at her doorstep and ask her to do housework for him. Only THEN can she say "Yes, I really wanted to comment on your blog but I was too shy!"

5. Girls have nehnehpok

I don't really know how to articulate this point. But it feels relevant, somehow.


P.S.
This post was lifted directly from the blog of The Great Sze's November 26th 2006 Posting.

Lunar Festival and The Neighbour's Master Piece

For me, the Mid Autumn Festival has always been a time where we (as kids) arranged lighted candles in pretty patterns, walk around the parks with paper lanterns while admiring the full moon and eating moon cakes.

For as long as I can remember, I've always enjoyed the Mid Autumn festival, it is during this time that we are given general amnesty and a free reign to create arson and vandalize the parks by sticking our candles everywhere, leaving behind ugly scorch marks and melted candle wax.

I remember as a kid, how I used to buy those plastic toy soldiers and then burn them one by one. It is quite disturbing that we found it entertaining to see the fire slowly consuming and melting those small soldiers into sad little puddles of plastic. (Though I absolutely have to make it clear that Zhongda was the one who taught me this, there is no way, uh uh, that I could have come up with this sadistic idea)

However, it seemed that the older I get, the less fun the idea of competing to see who can light the biggest fire becomes. This year marks the first time in my life that I did not even light a single candle or carry a lantern for the whole of the Moon Festival.

In fact, I spent the whole of today at work and the only thing interesting that happened today was of 3 YPs (for those of you who do not know what YP stand for, I can only say that the Y stands for young) complaining to me that their 'room' was haunted.

Upon further questioning though, it seemed that these 3 kids have heard the eerie laughter of a woman in their room the night before. They also showed me a drawing of a long haired woman that was scratched on the behind of their door. The 3 YPs vehemently denied that the drawings were done by them and they also told me how their 'room' seemed colder than the other 'rooms'.

Hearing their story, I was immediately reminded of the incident told to me by one of the night shift staff a few days ago. It seemed that one of my colleagues working the night shift had been scared shitless when he had seen the figure of a long haired lady floating out of our locked office.

I don't know if it is because of their eerie story or because of some other pyschological reasons, their room did feel colder to me.

And so, being the nice and considerate person that I am, I tried to comfort these 3 kids by telling them that a colder room means free air-conditioning and a better night sleep. I also tried to calm their frayed nerves but affirming their story and telling them about the long haired lady that the night duty staff saw.

I don't think they are much comforted though, for they looked positively paler when I left them.

On the way home, I noticed a sms from my neighbour. It seemed that her boy friend, whom she insisted is not her boyfriend(Don't worry, I won't tell your mum lah!), had just entered NS and she wants to know how often he can use his phone. Being the nice friendly neighbour I am, I prompty answered all her queries and tried to assure her that it is not easy for someone to actually die during NS training.

Somehow or rather though, maybe due to the fact that my neighbour is an art student, the conversation lead to the supposedly 'master piece' that she had drawn.

Having been neighbours for years, I had seen quite a number of the art pieces that she had drawn (the most recent being the half melted, maimed hand that looked like something from the movie 'Saw') and thus I was skeptical about whether I could comprehend her drawings.

However, figuring that I could have a good laugh by making fun of her drawings, I asked to see her 'master piece'

And this is it...

The drawing, looking kind of nice and fuzzy in my low resolution photo

Apparently, the theme for this art piece is supposed to be something about warm relationships. And from what my neighbour told me, this drawing is of her and her elder brother when they were younger.

Sadly, the low resolution photo failed to show most of the details that made this drawing a master piece and thus, in a bid to highlight the artistic talents of my neighbour, I shall literally point out what makes this drawing so damn eerie um... I mean great...

Firstly, the two kids in the drawings have very evil looking eyes and are wearing the type of demented grins that, you know, only the Joker in Dark Knight or Chucky in Child Play will have.

Also, the two of them are floating in mid-air while eating ice cream that seemed to be made of blood. The drawing is made more disturbing with the great amount of blood surrounding the two characters.

All in all, I think my neighbor has really outdone herself this time. I could really envision her monopolizing the market for the posters of all the horror movies.

So to the very talented artist living next door, don't forget your very nice and encouraging neighbour when you get rich and famous hor.

P.S.
There is absolutely no sarcasm in this entry. The author really feels that his neighbour has the potential to be the next Picasso. Also, as the author is fond of making fun of the people that he likes, anything that is spastic/sarcastic in the blog should be treated as nonsensical ramblings.

The Lift And Yoda

I was walking towards the lift below my flat today, after a long and tiring day at work, carrying bags of takeaways from MacDonald's which will serve as dinner for my family.

Though the takeaways were damn heavy (3 sets of up-sized meals and 3 free Olympic cups hor...) my 'muscular' arms barely feel the strain.

However, despite my superhuman strength, it will be difficult to press the lift buttons as it is damn hard to maneuver your fingers when you are carrying a lot of bags.

Lucky for me though, a guy (whom I don't think I have ever seen before) reached the lift before me and seeing that I was laden with many plastic bags, he kindly pressed the button to hold the lift open for me.

After expressing my thanks, I quickly entered the lift and was about to press the button for the 3rd floor - the level where my house is.

But before I could even lift my hand, that guy had reached out with lightning speed and pressed the button for the 3rd floor.

Being a very logical person (and a logical person always numbered out his thoughts), I came out with the several plausible explanations as to why that guy had pressed for the 3rd floor -

1) He is a friend/relative of my neighbors and he is visiting them
2) He is a insurance agent to my neighbors
3) He had pressed for the wrong floor
4) He is a neighbor... whom I had never noticed before

As these thoughts were running in my mind though, this guy very decisively pressed the button for the 6th floor which kinda shows that he wasn't going to the third floor. I was very amazed then and came to the very irrational conclusion that -

1) This guy has some kind of psychic powers and had somehow known that I had wanted to press for the 3rd floor and thus had pressed it for me

2) I am like one of those ordinary people in the TV show 'Heroes' who has just discovered my powers of mind control (Woaha!) and had just used my great powers to control the guy.

However, like I have stated earlier in my post, I am a logical and no nonsense kinda person, so I immediately dismissed these silly thoughts.

But as a very astonished me got out on the 3rd floor, I could not help but get a closer look at this guy before the lift doors closed.

The guy is an uncle in his late 30s or early 40s, has quite a few wrinkles, and is quite short (a full head shorter than me... which is really very short)

In fact, come to think of it, he kinda looks like this....




Less green of course...

I was racking my brain on why this picture looks so familiar when it struck me...

Yoda is living on the 6th floor.

Omigod, May the force be with me.


*P.S.

I mean no disrespect to the kind uncle who held the lift for me. I am really thankful for that kind act. I also happen to hold Yoda in high esteem and when I said Yoda, I actually really meant Master Yoda and if that kind uncle really happen to possess any psychic powers and is now reading my mind while I am writing this very nonsense post, I will be really be appreciative if he can pass on some of his powers to me so that I can increase my chance on not dying a virgin. As always, anything in this blog that might piss off anybody should be treated as nonsensical ramblings.

Religion, Housework and Me

So I am on leave today.

While most people tend to rest on their leave days, I being the hardworking person that I am, spent my very precious leave day on... housework.

Many of you might not know it, but housework is actually a test of endurance for the occupants of the house (for those of us without a maid anyways).

I believe that subconsciously, me and my siblings are actually competing to see who can tahan the increasing disgusting state that the house is degenerating to.

I was way ahead in the endurance department when I lost it, after stepping on something gooey in the kitchen (and this was after I swiped my arm over something slimy on the dinning table).

My elder bro had caved in and cleared out the fridge a week or two ago when he got appalled with its condition. My sis had cleaned up her room when her friends came over to play the previous week.

It was now my turn to do some cleaning up before the house got eaten up by fungus or something.

I am a great believer in reverse psychology so, yeah, I love doing housework very much... there is truly nothing as gratifying as trying to wipe away the stubborn greasy stain on the stove or scrubbing that shitty toilet bowl.

I've spent the better half of the day clearing up the mess in the living room, the dining room and scrubbing the very disgusting kitchen floor, though to be honest, it would not have taken soooo long if I had not made it a point to go through all the interesting magazines that were strewn all over the house.

After making the house a little bit more habitable, I remembered, or rather my neighbor who was walking past the house, reminded me that today is actually the lunar 15th.

Although I happen to be a truly pious free thinker, my IC and more importantly, my Dad had stated that I am a Buddhist. Not wanting to be disowned by Dad, I obediently lay out the fruits (that my bro had bought) on the altar.

As I were arranging the lychees (lychees were my late mum's favorite fruit) on the plate, I found myself wanting to believe in the existence of God (or Gods depending on which religion you believe in), and that there is actually an afterlife where you can again meet the loved ones that you have lost.

But if God exists, how do we know which one of them really exist? If Christ is real then can Buddha or Thor or Allah be real also? If the Bible says that non-believers in Christianity are going to hell and the Koran says the same thing for non-believers in Islam... are we all going to Hell?

Religion is a really hard thing to understand for it requires faith and not logical thinking. You either believe in it or you don't for it is not something that can be proved by looking at facts or evidences.

I think that most of us want to believe in a religion because it promises something beyond what your normal life span of maybe 70-80 years offers.

So, to play it safe, I am now a full time Buddhist, part time free thinker.

In fact, to ensure that I do not end up in some hell when I died, I may decide to believe in all of those religions that states that non-believer (in that particular religion) will burn in hell.

And to reflect my religion inclination, my blog address will change to something like this

Rileon-is-a-BuddhistChristianTaoistIslamicPaganHinduZoroastrianism
Freethinker.blogspot.com

or to keep it short...

Rileon-is-a-sibehreligiousman.blogspot.com

*Disclaimer: There is absolutely no disrespect for any religion in this blog. Contents should be taken as nonsensical ramblings of the blogger.