<?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-6334218</id><updated>2011-11-28T07:32:35.726+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Writer's Moment of Insight</title><subtitle type='html'>"A moment's insight is sometimes worth a life's experience." ~Oliver Wendell Holmes</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>sam</name><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>345</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6334218.post-6620908887446962375</id><published>2011-08-29T00:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T00:31:55.704+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow</title><summary type='text'>Unbelievable that I have not updated my post for so long! Reading my own blog is so nostalgic! Imagine how I started so early 2004?

After this blog, I continue blogging on  another blogger account and then I blog my own website under my name domain.

What a story my life has been.  I guess in a few years time,  I will be dead and I wonder what become of my website.  More than 50 years of life </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/6620908887446962375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=6620908887446962375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/6620908887446962375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/6620908887446962375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2011/08/wow.html' title='Wow'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-8815213976231109689</id><published>2009-10-31T20:29:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T20:41:13.783+08:00</updated><title type='text'>End Of Oct Report</title><summary type='text'>Oct is a good month.  I earned above $2,000. I doubled my income compared to last month. It's the highest since June.  I work far less hours and yet doubled my income. Last few months I worked more than 12 hours a day. This month I work only 4 hours.I got enough job next month to exceed this month income.  Most of my income comes from website design. The amount is bigger. My ebook sales is still </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/8815213976231109689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=8815213976231109689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/8815213976231109689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/8815213976231109689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2009/10/end-of-oct-report.html' title='End Of Oct Report'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-1766301708798611574</id><published>2009-10-28T01:15:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T01:25:17.089+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Found a New Language</title><summary type='text'>It has been 7 years since I left my programming job as a senior Delphi programmer because there was no demand for Delphi programmers in Singapore. The products that I dearly love so much had faded -  dBase, Paradox, Delphi. I could not make a living doing what I love cos there was no demand.With the advent of web 2.0 technologies, what will be the next best new programming language to learn.  I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/1766301708798611574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=1766301708798611574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/1766301708798611574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/1766301708798611574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-found-new-language.html' title='I Found a New Language'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-3799150633765596134</id><published>2009-06-22T10:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T10:27:02.261+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Death of a Business</title><summary type='text'>I spent the whole Sunday emailing all the contacts from the stack of name cards. I discovered that 1 in 10 emails bounced. It means that their businesses no longer exist. How transient business can be. Here today, gone tomorrow.Anthony Yeo, the father of counselling passed away.  He's in his 60s. He's a good man.The whole of last week, I didn't had any new customers. Starts to make me panic. As </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/3799150633765596134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=3799150633765596134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/3799150633765596134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/3799150633765596134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2009/06/death-of-business.html' title='The Death of a Business'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-8304277301229004951</id><published>2009-06-22T10:04:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T10:13:43.386+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Father's Day</title><summary type='text'>I wake up on Father's Day to a surprise.  My daughter gave me a Father's Day card. My wife gave me a headphone and a pen.  Just what I need.  Coming from a traditional Family, I never believe in cards and presents. But my wife do.  I'm touched to be called 'Daddy' and to know they love me.Now I am working at home and spend most of my time on my computer while they do their thing. I enjoy the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/8304277301229004951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=8304277301229004951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/8304277301229004951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/8304277301229004951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2009/06/fathers-day.html' title='Father&apos;s Day'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-2054771370066137091</id><published>2009-05-29T13:15:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T13:33:23.451+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life in the Wild</title><summary type='text'>I left my corporate job in Oct 2008 and become a stay-at-home entrepreneur, writer, website designer and internet marketer.  I work longer hours,  every hour from waking up at 10am to 3am.I get to pursue my dreams doing things I like.  One of my dreams come true is is to able to write for a living. I dreamed to be a writer when I was 18 years old.Income is unpredictable.  Life is hard because of </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/2054771370066137091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=2054771370066137091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/2054771370066137091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/2054771370066137091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2009/05/life-in-wild.html' title='Life in the Wild'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-3095318274705983685</id><published>2008-09-07T17:36:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T18:02:21.232+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Future is in Your Hand</title><summary type='text'>"How are you?" my trainer asked me, after  we lost touched for years."No good. Still running in the same rat-cage.""Sam, sam, it's your choice."It is really a choice? Or is it cos we think we had no choice?  Or are underestimating what are capable of doing if we are properly trained?In a person's life,  there are 3 ages. The 1st age is the age of schooling and learning. The 2nd age is the age of </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/3095318274705983685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=3095318274705983685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/3095318274705983685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/3095318274705983685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2008/09/future-is-in-your-hand.html' title='The Future is in Your Hand'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-5431742195858630347</id><published>2008-09-02T20:18:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T20:18:55.618+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life and How to Survive it</title><summary type='text'>Life &amp; How To Survive Itby Adrian TanI must say thank you to the faculty and staff of the Wee Kim Wee School of Communication and Information for inviting me to give your convocation address. It’s a wonderful honour and a privilege for me to speak here for ten minutes without fear of contradiction, defamation or retaliation. I say this as a Singaporean and more so as a husband.My wife is a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/5431742195858630347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=5431742195858630347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/5431742195858630347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/5431742195858630347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2008/09/life-and-how-to-survive-it.html' title='Life and How to Survive it'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-4234585032033856436</id><published>2008-08-05T23:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T23:55:28.299+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Warren Buffett's 7 Secrets for Living a Happy and Simple Life</title><summary type='text'>       Warren Buffett never flies in a private jet -- even though he owns the largest private jet company. He also lives in a small three-bedroom house he bought 50 years ago, and keeps himself occupied by playing online bridge.It is refreshing, and inspiring, to hear of a man with all the wealth in the world who still believes that happiness lies not with riches but within yourself.You, too, may</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/4234585032033856436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=4234585032033856436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/4234585032033856436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/4234585032033856436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2008/08/warren-buffetts-7-secrets-for-living.html' title='Warren Buffett&apos;s 7 Secrets for Living a Happy and Simple Life'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-7467550865487957639</id><published>2008-08-03T13:00:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T13:24:05.166+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am back</title><summary type='text'>It has been a year since I last wrote on this blog.  It has been a very painful period for me. One of the most dear to me was taken away from me for 4 years but thanks to God it is now with me. Justice has finally prevailed.I was verbally abused in my previous job but now I got a new start in my new job.I disengaged from all activities include my toastmasters activities and writer's guild so that</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/7467550865487957639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=7467550865487957639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/7467550865487957639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/7467550865487957639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-am-back.html' title='I am back'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-6460917372696338368</id><published>2007-07-08T20:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-07-08T20:40:39.571+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life in the National Service</title><summary type='text'>A witty columnist said his formula during his National Service was this:Whatever moves, you salute;whatever that does not move, throw it into the dustbin. And if it cannot be moved, paint it.That sums up the guiding principles for living in the armed forces.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/6460917372696338368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=6460917372696338368' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/6460917372696338368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/6460917372696338368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/07/life-in-national-service.html' title='Life in the National Service'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-507945593552863120</id><published>2007-06-24T10:42:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T10:56:00.877+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you Pro or Anti?</title><summary type='text'>According to "The Secrets - The Law of Attraction", what you oppose it resists. In my personal experience, the more I fight against something, the more it drains my energy. The LOA proposes that instead of anti-war, be pro-peace. Instead of thinking about getting out of debt, think about abundance. Think about what you want rather than what you don't want.  Is this the reason why lawyers get </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/507945593552863120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=507945593552863120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/507945593552863120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/507945593552863120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/06/are-you-pro-or-anti.html' title='Are you Pro or Anti?'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-1146539475620345582</id><published>2007-06-24T10:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T10:41:18.531+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Obsession with Hairs and Beauty</title><summary type='text'>In Iran, women must cover their head with a headscarf. In some Middle East countries, women must cover themselves from head to toe. The reason is that they will not pose a temptation to the men. I think that men who cannot resist the temptation should cover their eyes or go back to their caves. Why suffer the women because of men's inability to resist temptation?An Iranian artists said: "Women's </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/1146539475620345582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=1146539475620345582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/1146539475620345582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/1146539475620345582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/06/obsession-with-hairs-and-beauty.html' title='The Obsession with Hairs and Beauty'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-2222329944978732367</id><published>2007-06-22T12:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T12:10:11.983+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A model writer</title><summary type='text'>I like Danny Bloom - his style of writing, his wits, the way he promotes his books, his lifestyle. He's just like me. He's what I want to be.Danny Bloom is the first author to try selling his books in an night market in Taiwan. He sold only 3 books on the first night. Then 25 books every night. Soon newspapers feature such a refreshing story. More media exposure. More popular. And soon more books</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/2222329944978732367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=2222329944978732367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/2222329944978732367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/2222329944978732367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/06/model-writer.html' title='A model writer'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-3194648149920471529</id><published>2007-06-21T19:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T19:15:49.044+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Living Your Dream</title><summary type='text'>What would you do everyday of your life, for the rest of your life, that will make you alive, excited and enriched?If you making a living and yet you don't a life...then it's time to pause and think about where your life is heading. What's your dream? Are you living your dreams?</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/3194648149920471529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=3194648149920471529' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/3194648149920471529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/3194648149920471529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/06/living-your-dream.html' title='Living Your Dream'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-8708405314849057357</id><published>2007-05-20T21:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T21:51:35.435+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Message from Spider Man</title><summary type='text'>There are profound truth in Spiderman the movie. In the Spiderman 2, one of the messages is that there is a hero in all of us. Everyone needs a hero. Another message is that in doing the right things we have to give up our dreams. Dr Octopus sacrificed his life and his dreams to save a city. In real life, a filial man gave up his marriage to care for his elderly mother. In the Shogan era of Japan</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/8708405314849057357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=8708405314849057357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/8708405314849057357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/8708405314849057357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/05/message-from-spider-man.html' title='Message from Spider Man'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-6458089999891230319</id><published>2007-03-12T11:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T11:11:58.103+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I surrender all</title><summary type='text'>"Lord, make me what you will. I put myself fully into your hands: put me to doing, put me to suffering, let me be employed for you, or laid aside for you, let me be full, let me be empty, let me have all things, let me have nothing. I freely and with a willing heart give it all to your pleasure and disposal. Amen." ~John Wesley’s Covenant ServiceIt takes a broken spirit to surrender all. A crisis</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/6458089999891230319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=6458089999891230319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/6458089999891230319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/6458089999891230319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-surrender-all.html' title='I surrender all'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-3424721104560109045</id><published>2007-02-26T19:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T19:53:25.510+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Death is good</title><summary type='text'>Death is good. It frees you from a life of suffering.It is the end of the road of pain. Go and die.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/3424721104560109045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=3424721104560109045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/3424721104560109045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/3424721104560109045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/02/death-is-good.html' title='Death is good'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-3732600389915496595</id><published>2007-02-26T19:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T19:51:15.944+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Be kind to Animals. Go Vegetarian</title><summary type='text'>Saw the tagline on a van. Went back to my vegetarian ways again after much difficulties. I hope I can stick to vegetarian diet for the rest of my life.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/3732600389915496595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=3732600389915496595' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/3732600389915496595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/3732600389915496595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/02/be-kind-to-animals-go-vegetarian.html' title='Be kind to Animals. Go Vegetarian'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-5789719726058118393</id><published>2007-02-15T15:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-15T15:23:32.104+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happiness is a Choice, Not a Feeling</title><summary type='text'>Happiness is a Choice, Not a feelingA man of 92 years,short, very well presented, who takes great care in his appearance, is movinginto an old people's home today. His wife of 70 has recently died, and he is obliged to leave his home. After waiting severfal hours in the retirement home lobby, he gently smilesas he is told that his room is readyAs he slowly walks to the elevato, using his cane, I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/5789719726058118393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=5789719726058118393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/5789719726058118393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/5789719726058118393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/02/happiness-is-choice-not-feeling.html' title='Happiness is a Choice, Not a Feeling'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-5413748374984909415</id><published>2007-02-09T02:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-09T02:58:44.805+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Manna  from Heaven</title><summary type='text'>I watched each day for manna from heaven. Lady Vaz was overloaded with works and offload one work to me - that is to search for pictures. That was fun and earn half a day's pay. Calvin's friend has a promotional material which is so boring and dry. Guaranteed to put one to sleep. He's sending the copy to me for a makeover. Glad he thinks of me. Rita sold a domain name for good money and she is </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/5413748374984909415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=5413748374984909415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/5413748374984909415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/5413748374984909415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/02/manna-from-heaven.html' title='Manna  from Heaven'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-3889638922896740204</id><published>2007-02-09T02:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-09T02:53:47.066+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Laughter is the cure for depression</title><summary type='text'>When hope was dashed and the soul descended to the depth of despair, I cried to Him. Let me curse you so that I will die. Because this is not the kind of life that I want. Neither is this the abundant life that You promise. He said unto me, "Laugh".</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/3889638922896740204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=3889638922896740204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/3889638922896740204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/3889638922896740204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/02/laughter-is-cure-for-depression.html' title='Laughter is the cure for depression'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-4581801419157804916</id><published>2007-02-01T11:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-02-01T11:24:46.221+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Words of Wisdom from Rick Warren</title><summary type='text'>Happy moments, PRAISE GOD. Difficult moments, SEEK GOD. Quiet moments, WORSHIP GOD. Painful moments, TRUST GOD. Every moment, THANK GOD.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/4581801419157804916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=4581801419157804916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/4581801419157804916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/4581801419157804916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/02/words-of-wisdom-from-rick-warren.html' title='Words of Wisdom from Rick Warren'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-3519779245997079240</id><published>2007-01-23T11:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T12:00:43.045+08:00</updated><title type='text'>God speak to me again?</title><summary type='text'>This morning, I had breakfast with my friend Steve.Steve is a freelance tutor. He is a family man. Lately he has been through difficult times. Literally living on the edge. Hes shared with me that one thing that keeps him going. He said he was inspired by Dr William. He is on wheelchair but it did not stop him from getting this doctorate, being a motivational speaker, breaking records in sports, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/3519779245997079240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=3519779245997079240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/3519779245997079240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/3519779245997079240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/01/god-speak-to-me-again.html' title='God speak to me again?'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-6696853238835477614</id><published>2007-01-23T11:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T11:39:46.560+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Did God Speak to Me? Part I</title><summary type='text'>Yesterday was such a strange day. Never got this before in my life. In the morning at 7am, Hazel sms me a text message. Why me? Why this message? Why at this hour when I am still in dreamland? Absolute no idea. Here was the message:"Therefore I say to you, whatever things you ask when you pray, BELIEVE that you RECEIVE them, and you WILL have them." Mark 11:24So fine, God ask me to ask, right? I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/6696853238835477614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=6696853238835477614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/6696853238835477614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/6696853238835477614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/01/did-god-speak-to-me-part-i.html' title='Did God Speak to Me? Part I'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-6826440987621850102</id><published>2007-01-12T20:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T20:08:34.700+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A thing of beauty is a joy forever</title><summary type='text'></summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/6826440987621850102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=6826440987621850102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/6826440987621850102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/6826440987621850102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2007/01/thing-of-beauty-is-joy-forever.html' title='A thing of beauty is a joy forever'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-2328644551653823091</id><published>2006-12-27T10:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-27T10:40:24.643+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Secret Film Changed My Life</title><summary type='text'>I have read many self-help books from "Think and Grow Rich", Anthony Robbin's books, Dyers books on Manifesting Your Destiny, "The Science of Getting Rich", etc. Name it, I have it. Yesterday I watched the video clip, "The Secret". Through the sharing by the various speakers and the testimonial, something just clicked in my mind. I finally understood the message. Whatever you focus, you get. Your</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/2328644551653823091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=2328644551653823091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/2328644551653823091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/2328644551653823091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2006/12/secret-film-changed-my-life.html' title='The Secret Film Changed My Life'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-4541465287709696593</id><published>2006-12-10T12:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-10T12:49:33.936+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you Immuned to the Sight of Poverty?</title><summary type='text'>Carl Lewis, one of the greatest athletics of all times, recalled a trip he'll never forget. "I went to India in 20004...I saw the Taj Mahal and it was beautiful. But there was also much poverty and homelessness.I saw two young girls huddling on thekerb near my hotel and I asked the hotel manager about it. He replied that it was normal and they'd all got used to it.That kind of suffering is not </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/4541465287709696593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=4541465287709696593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/4541465287709696593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/4541465287709696593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2006/12/are-you-immuned-to-sight-of-poverty.html' title='Are you Immuned to the Sight of Poverty?'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-6615001928999767117</id><published>2006-12-07T12:06:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-07T12:06:33.641+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Negotiation Lesson from a Mum</title><summary type='text'>Anita Roddick, founder of The Body Shop, once joked that any mother who has dealt with two kids and one piece of toffee could negotiate any contract. The trick, according to another high-powered mom, is to let one child divide the sweet and the other to pick the first piece.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/6615001928999767117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=6615001928999767117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/6615001928999767117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/6615001928999767117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2006/12/negotiation-lesson-from-mum.html' title='Negotiation Lesson from a Mum'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-7422190842510271636</id><published>2006-12-05T10:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-12-07T12:10:01.191+08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is really Funny</title><summary type='text'>If you want to see more funny video, head to http://funniestube.blogspot.com/</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/7422190842510271636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=7422190842510271636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/7422190842510271636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/7422190842510271636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2006/12/this-is-really-funny.html' title='This is really Funny'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-115035296814728309</id><published>2006-06-15T14:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T15:26:28.413+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Must there be a Prize for Everything</title><summary type='text'>Must there be a prize to entice people to do what you want to do?Today, the newspaper launched the Stomp website to encourage youngesters to pin their thoughts on the blog.  The prize for participation ? A car. Why do you need to entice people with a car?The charity events.  Why not let people donate cos they want to, out of their heart? Not cos of the chance to win the prize.Some parents bribe </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/115035296814728309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=115035296814728309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/115035296814728309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/115035296814728309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2006/06/must-there-be-prize-for-everything.html' title='Must there be a Prize for Everything'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-114575570427105250</id><published>2006-04-23T09:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T09:28:24.286+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Perfect Moment</title><summary type='text'>He was the CEO of a big company. He was successful in his career. His schedule is booked for the next 18 months. He sits at the top of the world. He has almost everything that money and success can buy - the travel, the fine dining, the company, fine clothes except one thing. The perfect moment.One day the doctor pronounced that he had 3-6 months to live. He had a terminal illness. He realised </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114575570427105250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=114575570427105250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/114575570427105250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/114575570427105250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2006/04/perfect-moment.html' title='The Perfect Moment'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-114575489197035575</id><published>2006-04-23T09:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-23T09:14:51.980+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Buy You a Gift</title><summary type='text'>Sarah wants to surprise mommy and daddy.One morning when mummy was asleep, Sarah nudged me to bring her shopping. She selected a heart shaped rose with a teddy bear. Cost: $8.90. Daddy paid."I want to buy something for you," she said.I think to myself, "You buy me a gift. And I pay for it."Oh how sweet.Then she went to another shop. Saw a beautiful mug with the picture of a princess.She want to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114575489197035575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=114575489197035575' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/114575489197035575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/114575489197035575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2006/04/ill-buy-you-gift.html' title='I&apos;ll Buy You a Gift'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-114404708605154428</id><published>2006-04-03T14:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T14:51:26.063+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Funny</title><summary type='text'>It's time for a laugh with this viral and funny clips:http://frugalmoneysaver.com/pics/bob&amp;kidheadbang.gifhttp://www.oddtodd.com/index2.html </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114404708605154428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=114404708605154428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/114404708605154428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/114404708605154428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2006/04/its-funny.html' title='It&apos;s Funny'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-114260530404562954</id><published>2006-03-17T22:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-17T22:21:44.063+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Breast Part</title><summary type='text'>Overhead at the wedding dinner: "This is the breast part"My 5-year-old daughter loves to play masak masak ie. pretending to cook with her toy cooking utensils. I asked her if she loves to be a chef someday."No" she replied."Why?" I asked. "Cos my husband will cook for me."For some inspiration, go to http://www.abitofinspiration.com/</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/114260530404562954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=114260530404562954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/114260530404562954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/114260530404562954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2006/03/breast-part.html' title='The Breast Part'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-113790364151542068</id><published>2006-01-22T12:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T20:03:12.436+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Superman goes to toilet</title><summary type='text'>My 5-year old daughter likes to role play."Daddy, you are the superman and I'm the super girl," she exclaimed."OK"After a while, I stopped."What happened?" supergirl asked."Supergirl wants to go to the toilet to poo-poo!"</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113790364151542068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=113790364151542068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/113790364151542068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/113790364151542068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2006/01/superman-goes-to-toilet.html' title='Superman goes to toilet'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-113540976681565025</id><published>2005-12-24T15:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-24T15:36:06.823+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Secrets to Success and Peace</title><summary type='text'>Wayne Dyer reveals 10 secrets for success and peace1. have a mind that is open to everything and attached to nothing2. don't die with your music still in you3. you can't give away what you don't have 4. embrace silence5. give up your personal history6. you can't solve a probem with the same mind that created it7. there areno justified resentment8. treat yourself as if you already are what you'd </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113540976681565025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=113540976681565025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/113540976681565025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/113540976681565025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/12/secrets-to-success-and-peace.html' title='Secrets to Success and Peace'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-113540163722680021</id><published>2005-12-24T13:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-24T13:20:37.236+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts on Tsunami</title><summary type='text'>Meryl shared these two old adages:"In this life, pain is inevitable, suffering is optional" "In the frailty of the human condition, we share our humanity"I believe something good will turn out of something bad. There is no accident in life.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113540163722680021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=113540163722680021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/113540163722680021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/113540163722680021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/12/thoughts-on-tsunami.html' title='Thoughts on Tsunami'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-113470000557493491</id><published>2005-12-16T10:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-12-16T10:30:09.793+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cure for Chicken Flu</title><summary type='text'>My daughter loves to draw. I noticed the chicken and a little circle on the bottom right. Dad: What's that little thing, darling?Daughter: Oh, that's an antibioticDad: I see. What is it for?Daughter: It's for the bird. The bird got bird flu. Must take medicine to get well.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/113470000557493491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=113470000557493491' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/113470000557493491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/113470000557493491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/12/cure-for-chicken-flu.html' title='The Cure for Chicken Flu'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-112592000593063974</id><published>2005-09-05T19:26:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-05T19:36:02.913+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wisdom of a Child</title><summary type='text'>I am amazed at the innocence of 4-year-old Sarah. When I read to her the phrase "We are No. 1" as "We are numbered one", she said, "No, N-O is NO". "We are know one", she read it aloud. One day she told me she made an amazing discovery.She said that her eyes can see because there is a camera in her eyes. I asked her why she is so naughty sometimes.She said that the devil is in her body. She also </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/112592000593063974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=112592000593063974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/112592000593063974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/112592000593063974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/09/wisdom-of-child_05.html' title='The Wisdom of a Child'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-112220095531262782</id><published>2005-07-24T18:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-24T18:29:15.320+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I lost Marie</title><summary type='text'>22nd July 2005 is a dark day. This is the day I attended my uncle's funeral. This is the day I lost Marie to the forces of evil. My hopes were shattered. Now I am relinquishing my appointments to the various committees and the organisations. I am closing the accounts. I am closing every trace of my existence. I am closing every book, every involvement. I am bidding farewell to everyone. Soon, I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/112220095531262782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=112220095531262782' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/112220095531262782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/112220095531262782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-lost-marie.html' title='I lost Marie'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-112194762892899941</id><published>2005-07-21T19:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T20:07:08.933+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Uncle</title><summary type='text'>8pm. Albert called. Uncle has passed away this morning. It began some five years ago. He suffered from kidney failure. His condition deteriorated. First his toes were amputated. Then his foot. Then he became blinded. His lonely days were spent in a 'care home' in Johore Bahru. My mother, already in her old age, visited him faithfully every fortnight for the past 5 years. The travelling takes half</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/112194762892899941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=112194762892899941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/112194762892899941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/112194762892899941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/07/goodbye-uncle.html' title='Goodbye Uncle'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-112121739966126185</id><published>2005-07-13T09:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-13T09:16:39.676+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Salary of the CEO</title><summary type='text'>The recent revelation that the CEO of a charity organisation is paid $600,000 a year came as a shock to ordinary donors. FHis salary is equivalent to about 20 employees. Is the pay too excessive? The reporter asked the patron of the organisation. She said it's peanut when compared to the reserve of the organisation. Ah, what an insight! So, should the CEO's salary could be justify based on the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/112121739966126185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=112121739966126185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/112121739966126185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/112121739966126185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/07/salary-of-ceo.html' title='The Salary of the CEO'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-112115748206241076</id><published>2005-07-12T16:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T16:38:02.123+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I felt Cheated</title><summary type='text'>I have been faithfully donating to this charity organisation, believing all along that the money goes to help those who need it more than I do. I waked up this morning to discovered that my money has contributed to enrich its CEO.The newspaper reported that he is paid $600,000 a year. That he received 10-12 months bonus a year. That he had a private bathroom in his office suite. That he can </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/112115748206241076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=112115748206241076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/112115748206241076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/112115748206241076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/07/i-felt-cheated.html' title='I felt Cheated'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111996478237104278</id><published>2005-06-28T21:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T21:50:19.696+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bali</title><summary type='text'>For 16 years, my wife and I never get to travel together abroad. So this holiday, we went to Bali for a once-a-lifetime experience to destress ourselves and to give her what a wife ought to have. It wasn't really a holiday for me cos it cost a lot to live like a king. Here's my experience in Bali from a Singaporean perspective. People say that Singaporeans are generally picky, petty and complain </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111996478237104278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111996478237104278' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111996478237104278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111996478237104278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/06/bali.html' title='Bali'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111976685921204777</id><published>2005-06-26T14:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T21:50:35.916+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is Today</title><summary type='text'>My 4-year-old daughter Sarah said to me, "Today is today. Tomorrow is tomorrow."It's simple yet profound.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111976685921204777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111976685921204777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111976685921204777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111976685921204777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/06/today-is-today.html' title='Today is Today'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111862431353247026</id><published>2005-06-13T08:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T21:50:56.340+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ingredient for Happiness</title><summary type='text'>Charles Kingsley:"We act as though comfort and luxury were the chief requirements of life when all that we need to be really happy is something to be enthusiastic about."</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111862431353247026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111862431353247026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111862431353247026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111862431353247026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/06/ingredient-for-happiness.html' title='The Ingredient for Happiness'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111838898365456345</id><published>2005-06-10T15:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T09:03:10.906+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Money is Expensive</title><summary type='text'>The Wisdom of a Child"Money is very expensive," says my 4-year old daughter, Sarah.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111838898365456345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111838898365456345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111838898365456345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111838898365456345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/06/money-is-expensive.html' title='Money is Expensive'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111833796352542959</id><published>2005-06-10T01:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T21:51:26.566+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Making of a Journalist</title><summary type='text'>Yesterday I signed up for the Diploma in Journalism. There are seven joining me for now. It's a small school, but the service was personal.The career counsellor made me a cup of hot Chinese tea. I bet you don't find that kind of service in any school.My teacher-to-be had an informal 'interview' with me. Today is my payday. And I literally empty every cent from my salary for this course. Now I am </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111833796352542959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111833796352542959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111833796352542959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111833796352542959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/06/making-of-journalist.html' title='The Making of a Journalist'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111795575370014260</id><published>2005-06-05T15:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T21:51:46.406+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Words of Wisdom For new Graduates</title><summary type='text'>I heard graduation speeches. They are usually very boring. By people we hardly know. Their messages hardly connects emotionally to us. But this speech by this lady must be the best I ever know. She's 50-year-old Carly Fiorina, the ex HP CEO. I think every graduate should read her speech as a required reading. Here's some gem of wisdom, excerpt from her speech:"...When you challenge other people's</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111795575370014260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111795575370014260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111795575370014260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111795575370014260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/06/words-of-wisdom-for-new-graduates.html' title='Words of Wisdom For new Graduates'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111794177866228407</id><published>2005-06-05T11:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T21:52:05.920+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Talk</title><summary type='text'>Sarah, my 4-year-old daughter is the joy of my life. I can't imagine living without her. When I left the house for the toastmasters meeting yesterday, she wailed at the door because she wanted to join me. I left with a heavy heart. It's no place for a kid because it is hard to keep still for 3 hours. One day I asked her, "Darling, what do you want to be when you grow up?""Mother," she said. "What</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111794177866228407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111794177866228407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111794177866228407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111794177866228407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/06/kids-talk.html' title='Kids Talk'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111775935504284775</id><published>2005-06-03T08:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T09:04:59.136+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Books are Fatal</title><summary type='text'>Books are Fatal"Books are fatal; they are the curse of the human race. Nine-tenths of existing books ar nonsense, and the clever books are the refutation of that nonsense."</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111775935504284775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111775935504284775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111775935504284775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111775935504284775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/06/books-are-fatal.html' title='Books are Fatal'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111767359167211209</id><published>2005-06-02T08:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T09:05:22.733+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Writing is a Therapy</title><summary type='text'>Writing is a TherapySchapelle Corby, an Australian, was arrested in Indonesia for alleged drug smuggling. She is writing a book in prison about her ordeal, which she hopes might one day be a best-seller and an inspiration to others who find themselves in trouble.  Her Indonesian doctor said that she suggested to Corby that she write a book as part of her therapy, to cope with her ordeal. "Maybe </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111767359167211209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111767359167211209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111767359167211209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111767359167211209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/06/writing-is-therapy.html' title='Writing is a Therapy'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111767281773070934</id><published>2005-06-02T08:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T09:06:42.366+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lost Children</title><summary type='text'>The Lost ChildrenNoble intentions are not good enough. Long ago, the Australian govt took the children of the aborigines to be adopted by the white. In the early 1880s and 1967, some 130,000 children were exported from Great Britain. It was a scheme to help the homeless, needy and abandoned children. Even today, our govt took the children from their families in the name of protection. The child </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111767281773070934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111767281773070934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111767281773070934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111767281773070934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/06/lost-children.html' title='The Lost Children'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111667420374906728</id><published>2005-05-21T19:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T09:07:05.973+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Difference Between Good and Bad</title><summary type='text'>The Difference Between Good and BadThe difference between a good book and a bad book is the number of rewriting. I tasted what great writers have been talking about. The same page is edited many many times until each word is soaked with sweat. Writing a good book is like a labour pain. There is no short cut. Actually, the short cut is to have another womb to bear your works (a ghostwriter). There</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111667420374906728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111667420374906728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111667420374906728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111667420374906728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/05/difference-between-good-and-bad.html' title='The Difference Between Good and Bad'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111625578230565337</id><published>2005-05-16T23:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T09:08:21.846+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Money Money</title><summary type='text'>Where to Get MoneySarah and Marie occasionally see me draw money from the ATM.When I tell them I don't have the money to buy them their wishes, they have a simple answer. "Go to the ATM lah!" "Just put the card inside, press the buttons and the money will come out"</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111625578230565337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111625578230565337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111625578230565337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111625578230565337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/05/money-money.html' title='Money Money'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111625538531577900</id><published>2005-05-16T22:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T09:09:46.586+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Friend is Dying</title><summary type='text'>My Friend is DyingI met Francis, my ex-colleague at his office. "Are you in touch with our old birds especially Annie and Agnes?" I asked"Annie is dying" he said, without breaking a smile."Are you serious or joking?"Annie was admitted to the hospice since Jan this year. She had a relapse of cancer. Now she is all bones covered with a mere flesh. She cannot open her eyes and she cannot talk. She </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111625538531577900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111625538531577900' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111625538531577900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111625538531577900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/05/my-friend-is-dying.html' title='My Friend is Dying'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111594193518556556</id><published>2005-05-13T07:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T09:10:26.686+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do Brain and Beauty Go Together?</title><summary type='text'>Do Brain and Beauty Go Together?Comedian Michael Hui don't think so. He said, "How can beauty and intelligence be in the same woman? Intelligence is just God's compensation to ugly women."Taiwan mourned the death of popular TV comedian Ni Min-jan. He committed suicide. Ni was said to have been suffering from depression. See, even comedians and clowns can feel depressed enough to die. Maybe they </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111594193518556556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111594193518556556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111594193518556556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111594193518556556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/05/do-brain-and-beauty-go-together.html' title='Do Brain and Beauty Go Together?'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111591332009719228</id><published>2005-05-12T23:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T09:10:48.640+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Start with Yourself</title><summary type='text'>Start with YourselfThe Bible says 'Don't throw pearls before swine.' Cos they don't know how to appreciate it. Sometimes you dispense wisdom but they cannot digest it. Wisdom cannot be taught. It has to be experienced. Sometimes it is fruitless to give pearls of truth cos their mind are not ready to receive it. Now I have learnt to keep my mouth shut...especially to critics and skeptics. Now I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111591332009719228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111591332009719228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111591332009719228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111591332009719228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/05/start-with-yourself.html' title='Start with Yourself'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111581754050324313</id><published>2005-05-11T21:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T09:11:15.456+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Words of Encouragement</title><summary type='text'>Words of EncouragementI had a number of manuscripts waiting to touch the finishing line.One of my manuscripts, the WITS book, was hibernation for 2 months. KC finally found the time and send me these encouraging words. He said that it can be a best seller. He said, "Your manuscript is like a pretty lady who don't know how to dress and wearmakeup to win her suitors."He suggested a change of title </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111581754050324313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111581754050324313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111581754050324313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111581754050324313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/05/words-of-encouragement.html' title='Words of Encouragement'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111507897519691747</id><published>2005-05-03T08:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T09:11:41.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wee Kim Wee</title><summary type='text'>Wee Kim WeeWee Kim Wee passed away yesterday. "We come into this world with nothing on our backs and we will leave with nothing...Before we leave, we return to society what it has given us. We try to treat every person as a human being" ~ The former president (1915 - 2005)</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111507897519691747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111507897519691747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111507897519691747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111507897519691747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/05/wee-kim-wee.html' title='Wee Kim Wee'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111500186369415342</id><published>2005-05-02T10:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T09:12:05.060+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You are Unique</title><summary type='text'>You are UniqueYou are unique. So is everyone.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111500186369415342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111500186369415342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111500186369415342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111500186369415342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/05/you-are-unique.html' title='You are Unique'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111500173529234135</id><published>2005-05-02T10:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-13T09:13:35.416+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wink and Grow Rich</title><summary type='text'>Wink and Grow RichI went to the Times Book Warehouse Sale at the Expo Yesterday.Bought the book 'Wink and Grow Rich' for only $4. Just wonder why it has become so cheap. Wonder how come we wink a million times and we don't grow rich.Ps: Actually it is a parable on wealth. A good read. Like a modern version of "The Richest Man in Babylon".</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111500173529234135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111500173529234135' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111500173529234135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111500173529234135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/05/wink-and-grow-rich.html' title='Wink and Grow Rich'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111500020030725662</id><published>2005-05-02T10:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-05-02T10:17:37.256+08:00</updated><title type='text'>If You Know the Answer, Why are You Not Rich?</title><summary type='text'>If You Know the Answer, Why are You Not Rich?We read books on the Strategies of Millionaires. We know their strategies. We know how they become rich. Yet few people got rich. Why?We do not lack the knowledge. We lack the will.Knowledge is only potential power.But when apply, it is true power. I have the gut feeling that only desperate people will succeed.You know what to do. But will you do what </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111500020030725662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111500020030725662' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111500020030725662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111500020030725662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/05/if-you-know-answer-why-are-you-not.html' title='If You Know the Answer, Why are You Not Rich?'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111398549432977358</id><published>2005-04-20T16:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-20T16:25:46.666+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Degree is Not Everything</title><summary type='text'>A Degree is Not EverythingDon't imagine that a college education is necessary to success as awriter. Far from it. Some of our college men are dead-heads, drones,parasites on the body social, not alone useless to the world but tothemselves. A person may be so ornamental that he is valueless from anyother standpoint. As a general rule ornamental things serve but littlepurpose. A man may know so </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111398549432977358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111398549432977358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111398549432977358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111398549432977358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/04/degree-is-not-everything.html' title='A Degree is Not Everything'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111398543296572316</id><published>2005-04-20T16:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-20T16:23:52.970+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poverty is Not Excuse</title><summary type='text'>Poverty is not an ExcuseIf you are poor that is not a detriment but an advantage. Poverty is anincentive to endeavor, not a drawback. Better to be born with a good,working brain in your head than with a gold spoon in your mouth. If theworld had been depending on the so-called pets of fortune it would havedeteriorated long ago.From the pits of poverty, from the arenas of suffering, from the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111398543296572316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111398543296572316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111398543296572316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111398543296572316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/04/poverty-is-not-excuse.html' title='Poverty is Not Excuse'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111398439590282088</id><published>2005-04-20T16:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-20T16:07:36.830+08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Words</title><summary type='text'>New WordsVOCATION AND AVOCATIONDon't mistake these two words so nearly alike. Vocation is the employment,business or profession one follows for a living; avocation is somepursuit or occupation which diverts the person from such employment,business or profession. Thus"His vocation was the law, his avocation, farming."roman a clef (ro-mahn ah KLAY) noun, plural romans a clef  A novel that depicts (</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111398439590282088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111398439590282088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111398439590282088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111398439590282088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/04/new-words.html' title='New Words'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111373066405393272</id><published>2005-04-17T17:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-20T16:11:04.236+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"How Would You Act And Feel "IF" You Already Had What You Wanted"</title><summary type='text'>"How Would You Act And Feel "IF" You Already Had What You Wanted"Allen Says expounded on the above concept. It's mind blowing. He is coming up with a book soon. It's the secret to breaking the barriers to get whatever you want. It's the way to get your conscious and subconscious mind aligned. Read about it at the Instant Guru Blog by Allen Says</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111373066405393272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111373066405393272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111373066405393272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111373066405393272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/04/how-would-you-act-and-feel-if-you.html' title='&quot;How Would You Act And Feel &quot;IF&quot; You Already Had What You Wanted&quot;'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111372333759264596</id><published>2005-04-17T15:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-20T16:11:37.576+08:00</updated><title type='text'>How to be an Expert</title><summary type='text'>How to be an ExpertDAN POYNTER said that you don't have to be an expert to write a book. When you write book, you become the expert. The word Authority has the word Author in it.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111372333759264596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111372333759264596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111372333759264596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111372333759264596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/04/how-to-be-expert.html' title='How to be an Expert'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111370803078231369</id><published>2005-04-17T11:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-20T16:12:12.176+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Paper Chase</title><summary type='text'>The Paper ChaseOnce upon a time, I was smart in programming cos I live and eat and sleep programming everyday for years. But I didn't have a paper to show my potential employer. They want to see my paper before they want to interview me. I didn't even had a chance to enter the interview room. Ok, so you want a paper.  I pay more than $10,000 to sit in the class and listen to those idiot </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111370803078231369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111370803078231369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111370803078231369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111370803078231369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/04/paper-chase.html' title='The Paper Chase'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111370800401296459</id><published>2005-04-17T11:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-20T16:13:49.526+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons for Casino</title><summary type='text'>Reasons for CasinoThe Ministers Argued for Casinos. I find the reasons so flawed. Try substituting the word 'Casino' for 'Prostitution' and see if it make senses.One said that it is about creating 10,000 jobs. Then they said 30,000 jobs. Using the same argument, why don't we build a world class brothel in one of our islands. That will bring all the buayas into the brothel, instead of going to </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111370800401296459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111370800401296459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111370800401296459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111370800401296459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/04/reasons-for-casino.html' title='Reasons for Casino'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111265898871427290</id><published>2005-04-05T07:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-05T07:56:28.713+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quote of the Week</title><summary type='text'>Quote of the WeekKnowing others is intelligence; knowing yourself is true wisdom. Masteringothers is strength; mastering yourself is true power. – Lao Tzu, ChineseTaoist PhilosopherThe best way to predict the future is to invent it. – Alan Kay, AmericanComputer ScientistNow is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can dowith what there is. – Ernest Hemingway, 1898-1961, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111265898871427290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111265898871427290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111265898871427290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111265898871427290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/04/quote-of-week.html' title='Quote of the Week'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111249327302613957</id><published>2005-04-03T09:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T09:54:33.026+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good People Die Young</title><summary type='text'>Good People Die YoungIt's my morning ritual to do this. Read the newspaper and sip my coffee at the coffeeshop on a weekend morning. One of the pages I must visit is the Obituaries page. Sometimes I encounter familiar faces, friends from my past. Sometimes there are young faces. These are lives that have barely experience the full spectrum of the early experience. And sometimes they tell a story.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111249327302613957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111249327302613957' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111249327302613957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111249327302613957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/04/good-people-die-young.html' title='Good People Die Young'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111244918398156998</id><published>2005-04-02T21:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-02T21:39:43.983+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Burka with Bikini</title><summary type='text'>Burka with BikiniHave you ever seen a woman dressed in burka but carrying a handbag containing pictures of women in bikini?I had. I saw her at the MRT train yesterday. It tells a story. She was covered from head to toes. And about the only thing you can see is her eyes. The irony is that it draws focus to her eyes only. The cloth that covered her mouth was clipped with a blue jewels. She wore a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111244918398156998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111244918398156998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111244918398156998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111244918398156998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/04/burka-with-bikini.html' title='Burka with Bikini'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111236314126462417</id><published>2005-04-01T21:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-01T21:45:41.266+08:00</updated><title type='text'>All Men are Equal</title><summary type='text'>All Men are EqualAll men are equal, but some are more equal than others, especially the President. He walks on red carpet. He never need to drive his own car. He is always escorted wherever he goes. He don't have to stop for the red traffic light. It was the day of farewell for the ex-president. Along the short road from his office to the gate, his staff awaits. As his car slowly drives out of </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111236314126462417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111236314126462417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111236314126462417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111236314126462417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/04/all-men-are-equal.html' title='All Men are Equal'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111222689197407389</id><published>2005-03-31T07:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-31T07:54:51.976+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confession of a Hooker</title><summary type='text'>Confession of a HookerOne of the joys of a writer is that you can write whatever your imagination brings to you, such as "The Confession of a Hooker" written by a virgin. Do you know that in the minds of the mad people, they see the sane people as truly insane? The way we live like rats, we must be mad. Who is really the mad one? You figure out.An acquaintance of mine, a local University </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111222689197407389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111222689197407389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111222689197407389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111222689197407389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/03/confession-of-hooker.html' title='Confession of a Hooker'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111192246616321492</id><published>2005-03-27T19:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-27T19:21:06.163+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Second Prison</title><summary type='text'>The Second PrisonEvery month in Singapore, about 1,000 prisoners walked out free from their prison gates...only to face a second prison. Cos the society has rejected them. "Once a criminal, always a criminal", "They deserved it", "They don't deserve a second chance". The voice of hatred for the hurt they did. They may be free. But for the victims, their scars are forever. For some, nothing really</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111192246616321492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111192246616321492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111192246616321492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111192246616321492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/03/second-prison.html' title='The Second Prison'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111171128754927372</id><published>2005-03-25T08:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-25T08:41:27.550+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Speak and Die</title><summary type='text'>Speak and dieThere is a poem that says if you are silent, you will die. If you speak, you will die. So speak and die. I think of Ken Saro-Wiwa, a human right activist and writer. He spoke against the Government's corruption and  they hung him. I think of Munir, a human rights activist in Indonesia. They poisoned him. I think of Gandhi, an activist against the British govt. He was assassinated.I </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111171128754927372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111171128754927372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111171128754927372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111171128754927372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/03/speak-and-die.html' title='Speak and Die'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111123498526809742</id><published>2005-03-19T20:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-19T20:24:00.706+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When A Scolding Misfired</title><summary type='text'>When A Scolding MisfiredMother scolding her daughter: "You mother f****er"Daddy:Amen</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111123498526809742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111123498526809742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111123498526809742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111123498526809742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/03/when-scolding-misfired.html' title='When A Scolding Misfired'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111069164317140473</id><published>2005-03-13T13:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-13T13:27:23.173+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Understand the Language of Politics</title><summary type='text'>Understand the Language of PoliticsThe language of politics is not to be taken literally. When Mr Tung of Hong Kong stepped down from his current appointment, the reason he gave was poor health. Yet he is healthy enough to assume his new appointment. Only the ignorant would asked for his medical report.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111069164317140473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111069164317140473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111069164317140473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111069164317140473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/03/understand-language-of-politics.html' title='Understand the Language of Politics'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111068865679825970</id><published>2005-03-13T11:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-13T13:19:14.303+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beauty of the Indonesian Language</title><summary type='text'>The Beauty of the Indonesian LanguagePeople who are intimate with the Indonesian language declare that it is indeed a beautiful language. I agreed. For examples, prostitutes are called 'butterflies of the night'. How meaningful is the metaphor. The breast is called the fruit of the chest. How visual it is. The sun is called the eye of the day/sky.When I tried to converse to her with my limited </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111068865679825970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111068865679825970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111068865679825970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111068865679825970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/03/beauty-of-indonesian-language.html' title='The Beauty of the Indonesian Language'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111068506902123642</id><published>2005-03-13T11:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-13T13:18:31.126+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best Toilet in the World</title><summary type='text'>The Best Toilet in the WorldDavid, the man who made Singapore proud when he kissed Mount Everest, once shared this experience. He said that doing his toilet business in the mountain is a heavenly experience. 1. He has the best view in the world. Open and unobstructed. Singaporeans paid millions for a house with that kind of view.2. He didn't have to queue for the toilet. And he can squat there as</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111068506902123642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111068506902123642' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111068506902123642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111068506902123642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/03/best-toilet-in-world.html' title='The Best Toilet in the World'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111068042444884093</id><published>2005-03-13T09:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-13T13:22:24.513+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Poor to Afford Justice</title><summary type='text'>Too Poor to Afford JusticePeople said Education is expensive. I say Justice is most expensive. Only those who have the money can afford to engage a lawyer to fight for their rights, for justice, to be heard in the Court. Do you know what is the cost of engaging a lawyer?To photostat a dozen sheets of paper which takes only 5 minutes would cost %50To appear in a subordinate court for just a few </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111068042444884093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111068042444884093' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111068042444884093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111068042444884093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/03/too-poor-to-afford-justice.html' title='Too Poor to Afford Justice'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111067912447175332</id><published>2005-03-13T09:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-13T13:22:58.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>How to Prevent Date Rape</title><summary type='text'>How To Prevent Date Rape"In an age when date rapes are rampant, what do you think girls and boys, should do when someone offers to buy them drinks?"Guess who knows the answer best? Ask the owner of a disco club, Mr Lincoln Cheng of Zouk, of course. He said: "After the drinks have been served, swop drinks and ask your counterpart to down his/hers first. Absolutely fool proof"Brilliant!</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111067912447175332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111067912447175332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111067912447175332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111067912447175332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/03/how-to-prevent-date-rape.html' title='How to Prevent Date Rape'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111062040997812415</id><published>2005-03-12T17:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-13T13:23:47.926+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Delicacies, Old Man and Angel</title><summary type='text'>Of Delicacies, Old Man and AngelIf you ever travel overseas and the locals suggest you try their delicacies, beware. What is delicacies to the local is often extreme gourmet to you.For example, durian is the delicacies of Singaporeans. We will never never understand why foreigners think it is as pungent as the sewerage. In a recent documentary, Singaporeans went to China in search of exotic </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111062040997812415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111062040997812415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111062040997812415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111062040997812415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/03/of-delicacies-old-man-and-angel.html' title='Of Delicacies, Old Man and Angel'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-111033125124545604</id><published>2005-03-09T09:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-13T13:24:32.096+08:00</updated><title type='text'>William Hung and the Singapore Idols</title><summary type='text'>William Hung and Singapore IdolsWilliam Hung has change the world in a unique way.The military has discovered the latest torture device in William Hung.They torture their prisoners by playing his songs non-stop over the air all day long."Please, please, not another song. I rather be hung! Ok Ok, I confess."Now the human rights groups are getting busy investigation such allegations.William has </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/111033125124545604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=111033125124545604' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111033125124545604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/111033125124545604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/03/william-hung-and-singapore-idols.html' title='William Hung and the Singapore Idols'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-110999795049123229</id><published>2005-03-05T12:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-05T12:45:50.493+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Laughter in the Midst of Sorrow</title><summary type='text'>Laughter in the Midst of SorrowNeil Humphreys wrote about his trip to Banda Aceh, in the aftermath of the Tsunami disaster. He went there with some footballers to bring some joy to the Acehnese kids. He wrote: "When the kids were handed their footballs, the mothers fought back tears to express their gratitude."The footballers and their balls brought a lot of laughter to the kids. Neil ended with </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/110999795049123229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=110999795049123229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110999795049123229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110999795049123229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/03/laughter-in-midst-of-sorrow.html' title='Laughter in the Midst of Sorrow'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-110999741250403243</id><published>2005-03-05T12:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-05T12:36:52.506+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is Today</title><summary type='text'>Today is TodayMy 4-year old Sarah uttered these words of wisdom: "Today is Today. Tomorrow is tomorrow"So simple, yet so profound.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/110999741250403243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=110999741250403243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110999741250403243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110999741250403243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/03/today-is-today.html' title='Today is Today'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-110973047820448034</id><published>2005-03-02T10:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-03-02T10:27:58.206+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Highest Paid Professions in the World</title><summary type='text'>The Highest Paid Profession in the WorldThe highest paid profession in the world are prostitutes, lawyers and doctors. The fee to engage the lawyer for one court appearing can cost a four figure. To photostate a few pieces of paper costs $50. While prostitutes feed on their lust, lawyers feed on their misery, and doctors on their pain. In the court of law, there is no justice. Only power. The </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/110973047820448034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=110973047820448034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110973047820448034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110973047820448034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/03/highest-paid-professions-in-world.html' title='The Highest Paid Professions in the World'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-110878878215258460</id><published>2005-02-19T12:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-19T12:53:02.153+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tsunami</title><summary type='text'>TsunamiRight now I am in the middle of the ocean. The clouds are dark and the waters are shaking the boat. A Tsunami is imminent. I do not know if I will survive the Tsunami and the after-effect, but if I hang on long enough, the storm will pass over eventually. So for now, it's living for each day, by the hour. Savouring each moment of living. Everyday is a time of goodbye. And every morning, a </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/110878878215258460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=110878878215258460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110878878215258460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110878878215258460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/02/tsunami.html' title='Tsunami'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-110819465861369403</id><published>2005-02-12T15:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-02-12T15:50:58.613+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Truth Inside the Court of Law</title><summary type='text'>The Truth Inside the Court of LawInnocence is not enough. Facts is not enough. Truth is not enough. It's about perception of the facts. It's about which lawyer argues best. It's about exploiting loopholes in the law. It's not about justice. If you have the money, you engage the biggest mouth possible. If you don't have the money, your mouth is shut. Fair? When is life ever fair? If the court of </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/110819465861369403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=110819465861369403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110819465861369403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110819465861369403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/02/truth-inside-court-of-law.html' title='The Truth Inside the Court of Law'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-110700951273041234</id><published>2005-01-29T22:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-29T22:38:32.730+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Makeover Time</title><summary type='text'>Makeover TimeThe time when you need a makeover is when you look at yourself in the mirror and saw the likeness of your mother/father. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/110700951273041234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=110700951273041234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110700951273041234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110700951273041234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/01/makeover-time.html' title='Makeover Time'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-110653204774934655</id><published>2005-01-24T09:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-24T10:00:47.750+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moral Dilemma</title><summary type='text'>Moral DilemmaThis morning my taxi driver shared with me his moral dilemma.He was at the Airport to 'drop' (alight) a passenger when suddenly a tourist barged in to take his cab. According to the rule, they can only take the cab at the proper taxi stand at the arrival hall. He was tempted to take the passenger otherwise he is going to lose money running on an empty cab from the Airport to town</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/110653204774934655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=110653204774934655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110653204774934655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110653204774934655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/01/moral-dilemma.html' title='Moral Dilemma'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-110653151040003747</id><published>2005-01-24T09:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-24T09:51:50.400+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Late Again</title><summary type='text'>I'm Late AgainI'm a night bird or an nocturnal animal.I slept at 12.30 am. I was supposed to wake up at 6.00 am.My body refused to wake up despite the alarm bell from the clock.It slept for another hour.I had to take a cab to work. There goes my $15. The moral of the story. My body needs 7 hours of sleep whether I feel like sleeping or not. Break the rule and either the body breaks down </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/110653151040003747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=110653151040003747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110653151040003747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110653151040003747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/01/im-late-again.html' title='I&apos;m Late Again'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-110648910909890687</id><published>2005-01-23T22:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-23T22:05:09.096+08:00</updated><title type='text'>You are Fired!</title><summary type='text'>You are Fired!In the new season of The Apprentice, Donald Trump said to the 1st reject:"To do a job, you don't have to be asked. You are fired!"How true. Leaders create their own opportunities. They don't wait for it to drop on their plate, or someone to tell them what to do.Someone wrote a book on "10 Secrets I learnt from the Apprentice"It's easy how any writer can write a book based </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/110648910909890687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=110648910909890687' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110648910909890687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110648910909890687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/01/you-are-fired.html' title='You are Fired!'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-110648064406137732</id><published>2005-01-23T19:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-23T19:44:04.060+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Great Wall of China</title><summary type='text'>The Great Wall of ChinaDid I hear that the Great Wall of China took 200 years to build? And some people have attempted to walk the whole length of the Wall. The first person took 3 long years to complete the walk. It was steep and the walk was tiring. But this is one place where you see people from all countries coming together. A visit to Beijing is never complete without seeing the Great </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/110648064406137732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=110648064406137732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110648064406137732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110648064406137732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/01/great-wall-of-china.html' title='The Great Wall of China'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-110645443936966500</id><published>2005-01-23T13:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-23T12:27:19.370+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Zen Moment</title><summary type='text'>Zen MomentA monk was in the lift. It was cold silence as the occupants were staring at the ceiling and the floor, and avoiding eye contact each other."Press N," the monk said."It will bring you to Nirvana."The occupants broke into laughter. The monk said that life is like a flower. It blossoms for a few days and then the petals will fall to the ground.But be not dispair because it will </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/110645443936966500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=110645443936966500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110645443936966500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110645443936966500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/01/zen-moment.html' title='Zen Moment'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-110519305773055434</id><published>2005-01-08T22:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-08T22:04:17.730+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Marie</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/110519305773055434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=110519305773055434' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110519305773055434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110519305773055434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/01/marie_110519305773055434.html' title=''/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-110485347295891428</id><published>2005-01-04T23:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-04T23:44:32.956+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strategy for Success</title><summary type='text'>Strategy for SuccessKnow exactly what you want to achieve.Take massive action. Do it super fast. Do it as if your very life depends on it.Don't do those things that are unimportant. Break your goals into daily goals. Be bold.Be hungry.Don't talk too much. Don't tell people what you are going to do.Just do it quietly. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/110485347295891428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=110485347295891428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110485347295891428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110485347295891428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/01/strategy-for-success.html' title='Strategy for Success'/><author><name>sam</name><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-6334218.post-110464118093428215</id><published>2005-01-02T12:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-01-02T12:46:20.933+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Sarah, 4-years old. The love of my life. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/feeds/110464118093428215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6334218&amp;postID=110464118093428215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110464118093428215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6334218/posts/default/110464118093428215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://samchoo.blogspot.com/2005/01/sarah-4-years-old.html' title=''/><author><name>sam</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
