The boss’ boss, or the boss’s boss? The bosses’ boss, or the bosses’s boss? Ah, I’m confused.

Back in the days when I first learnt it (12-13 years ago?), I was taught to always drop the S after an apostrophe whenever I made a noun ending in S possessive. So, from what I learnt, the boss’s boss and the bosses’s boss are not correct. I continued to do the supposedly right way for the next 12-3 years, obviously, correcting people who added the supposedly extra S after a noun ending in S whenever possible; until today. Somehow, I had doubts.

I went to my trusty 14-year-old Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary (the older the dictionary the better, no?), and it told me that when the noun ending in S is singular, both and ’s are acceptable. But when the noun is a plural ending in S, you only use the apostrophe without the S. Right, so the boss’ boss, the boss’s boss, and the bosses’ boss are all correct.

Then, I came across a few websites, that all seemed to suggest, rather confidently, that you always use ‘s when the noun is singular, and drop the S for possessive plurals ending in S. One even stated that the boss’ boss (converted to the example of my case) is incorrect.

Grrreat. Now which one should I stick to?

Blue Screen of Death

My laptop! My laptop is trying to tell me something! Humming noises… she’s humming. Mumbled something about atapi.sys before she went mad. Blue. Screen. Of. 0x0000007A. Death. Infinite loop of self-rebooting. Blue Screen of Death! She begged me to format her, so I did. Fonts, gone! Brushes, gone! Everything, gone! Still humming. Not good.

I need a hug. sad

Shocking Discovery

There’s something I’ve never guessed, never realised, would have never thought of, living 19 years of my life so far, until today…

I was walking to the train station after school with two of my closer guy classmates, when one of them felt the urge to relief himself. As we’re walking to the washrooms, they randomly told me that the male washroom was renovated, and was no longer having the “central system”.

“Central system?” I asked.

And then, there, after 19 years of ignorance, I learnt, shockingly, that guys don’t always get their own urinal in a public washroom. Not always in Hong Kong anyway.

Huh? They (sometimes) have to share a huge urinal with all the other men? There’ll (sometimes) be a “waterfall” on the wall in front of them if they go into public washrooms like that? What?!

I’ve never understood how guys could just unzip and do their business in front of everybody in the first place. And oftentimes, as a girl, I already feel uncomfortable knowing that the other female (supposedly) next stalls would be able to hear what I’m doing when I’m fulfilling my biological needs.

Sharing a “urinal”…?!

Some day when I cut my hair short, I’ll spare a day and visit all the cleaner male restrooms around Hong Kong to prove my interesting discovery. When, one day, I also get my hands on one of those spiffy male urinal thingies (for medical purpose), I might also try emptying my bladder like most guys do daily.

Oh what the hell. I’ll pee, piss, and urinate like most guys do. (Google me, pervs!)

I am Sorry?

For various unapprehended ulterior motives, I have undertaken the encumbrance to replenish this memorandum with perspicacious dialect. Nevertheless, veritably, I have not an inkling as to what I am speculating. Perhaps to extirpate my quondam appellation of an extant procrastinator? Perchance, alternatively, to decamp the atrocious and nefarious hunk of Medical Engineering?

Despite the precedent affidavit, despite being necessitated to endure the perlustration befalling next Monday, I would recapitulate and substantiate that I have unequivocally luxuriated myself in the conspicuous scourge.

During the hardship, I have succored, and I have had countenance. Methinks that is what is momentous and imperative thereupon. A new me is engendered de novo. I have metamorphosed into a benevolent, cordial and affable being.

I shall adjourn, and expediently relinquish the entry subsequently. I envisage a moiety of these, haphazardly, being manipulated amiss.

Now, Biochemistry, forthwith!

Murder(ous) Game

There are three animals running continuously on a circular racetrack: a cheetah, a rabbit and a tortoise.

They start at a different (or same) starting point, and run at a different speed. However, the cheetah always runs faster than the rabbit, and the rabbit always runs faster than the tortoise.

If the rabbit catches up with the tortoise, it will stop and wait for the cheetah. If they start at the same starting point, the rabbit will not move.

If the cheetah catches up with the rabbit, a murder occurs and the game is over. If they start at the same point, the game is over immediately.

Write a C++ program to compute the time required for the murder to take place. Your program should compute the time required for the cheetah to catch up with the rabbit. Then you should output the time and position of the murder.

Anyone? Please?


It took its last breath.

He took his last breath…

He was okay just now. He was still running around; he was eating. He had to stop and rest for ten seconds after 3 seconds of walking…

We knew it.

The next time I looked he was lying on his right side. Dad said that he wouldn’t last long, and was muttering something about Mum wouldn’t make it back in time.

I watched. He has stopped normal breathing. He was spasming.

His eyes looked as though they were to pop out any second.


I never realised that death takes so long. He was like that, on his side…

He let out one faint shriek during the whole process. Only one.

Mum came back. She made it.

After what seemed like forever, he died. In a small pool of urine.

10 p.m. September 29, 2003.