WARNING!

Reader discretion is advised

The following entry is a no-holds barred record of the incident that took place on sat. I will in no way be held accountable for any premature alopecia, cardiovascular compromise or the significant alterations in proposed normal psychological behavior in the individual that follow, during and/or after the course of reading this entry.

Don't even bother to leave a comment. It doesn't matter what you think. I seriously don't give a damn.

You have been warned.

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We attended the inter-poly debates competition today. Fara and I had scooted off to town earlier in the week to purchase black jackets (at dear old G2000) simply because of the horrid nature of the supplied school blazer (That ugly, ill fitting thing reached my knees!)

In all senses, I would not want to be caught dead wearing an atrocity like that. Trust me, Calvin Klein would have spewed blood. Lagerfield would have suffered a stroke. And Versace? Well, he would be rolling in his grave.

But enough of that, back to my story.

The competition was supposed to allow us to interact with students from other institutions. The key word here would be : SUPPOSED (insert the green alien's OOooos and Ahhhhs here). It never happened. Teams pretty much kept to themselves and some, well, they came with such an elitist ideation, the thought of interactions with mere mortals like us digusted them.

We managed to win the first round easily. The second round, my teammate, Terrence had to endure some personal attacks from 2 members of the opposing team (namely, Gay Boy and Squirrel-loves-to-hide-my-walnuts Phua Chee Bye). And I didn't understand the motion well, so matter wise, I had nothing much to say. However, my team still managed to win (bless Alex's matter loaded soul and Terry's analytical skills), and because the other team did poorly.

The 3rd round saw us meeting Poly from the east side. And you know what? Their whole freaking damn bloody team (supporters and coach included - a classical example of how an apple doesn't fall very far from the tree) were such bastards. Yes, I'm including all the people present in the room here. And for the record : THEY ARE BASTARDS AND MORONS.

In a desperate attempt to win (they were on a losing streak), they used underhanded tactics, chose to forgo any form of decorum and placed personal attacks in top priority. And it got me pissed. Really pissed. Really, seriously, beyond a doubt pissed.

And everyone knows. It would not be a pretty sight.

I concede to the fact that my team did not have enough knowledge on the topic chosen. But we fought as best we could. However, turning a blind eye on basic decorum, the opposing team and their lackeys shouted in jest and banged on the tables when their team members spoke. I never denied the importance of support from the floor in competitions like this. In fact I understand the importance. But when my first speaker went up, they jeered and spat nasty, sarcastic comments - this was unneccessary. And made a circus out of the whole deal.

That in itself threw a spotlight on their lack of sportsmanship.

When it was my turn, they tried to derail me through my speech by POI-ing me incessantly and the floor threw nasty comments aloud. I held my ground. There was this bastard in the audience who stared at me and purposely laughed loudly, intending to create a diversion or break my confidence. FUCKER.

Burning with irritation, I took a brief moment to stare at the black bastard (i did not bother to engage in small talk to dig out his name - for the simple fact that he was too dirty) in the foreground to shut his faggot mouth and put him in place. He got the hint and slithered back to the hole he crawled out from. Apparently, I have eye power. Haha.You don't look so haughty now do you? LAME BASTARD.

Their debate team was no better either. Their speakers, in particular, the lame 2nd (chee bye face), started her POI with some stupid sarcastic remark, further igniting my fury. And for the record : YES, I HAD TO SHUT HER UP, pointing to the fact that her opportunity of question was wasted due to her stupidity in wasting time.

Piss-o-meter rating : on a scale of 1 - 10, they had upped the bar to 2000.

I was told that chee bye face also had a habit of undressing through the course of the debate. First, she removed her jacket. Then she unbuttoned her shirt. Next, she took off her shoes. Zul was praying that the whole debate would extend so she could strip naked and turn this whole circus into an all out, true blue strip club.

Their 3rd speaker, Mr I'm-so-blatantly-itching-for-anal-penetration, was too female for words. I too made my displeasure known by my "Throw-an-evil-eye campiagn". He also chose to tuck his dick (well, if you can even consider his taugeh sized prick that) inbetween his tighs.

Thankfully, I was brought up in civilized domestic environment, which clearly translates into : I VALUE SPORTSMANSHIP, and didn't see the necessity to stoop to their level.

It was good that these measures (of eye power and highlighting their underhanded personal attacks) managed to instill some calm to the floor. In the end, I was able to push forth some matter into the debate.

Fara said I appeared calm, passionate even, although I can assure you, it wasn't passion. I was possessed, which i hope was more alike to Joey then Adrian. My teammates said they were proud of me.

Thanks for the support guys.

We lost that round. Just as Jose predicted after he debriefed us. He commended us for our efforts and threw in strategies and matter to enlighten us. Prop won because we allowed them to get away with a vague description of their policy and definition of the terms identified.

It is a lesson learnt. This will not be repeated.

So in the end, we won 2 out of 3 debates. Wed would be the last round of the prelims. 1 last match to go. My team hopes to break into the semis, though I hope my team won't clash with the other representative from our school. It would be such a deja vu.

What is the moral of the story?
1. Ruffle my feathers, get a story.
2. Seriously anger me, get a story with your name in print.
3. This particular east-side institution's Debate club members and their coach are SICK BASTARDS AND MORONS in need of an emergency revamp in etiquette.

If you would, by any chance, like to epxress comment, even though i have explicitly cited my stance, you stubborn people can email them to : cheryldoesntgiveafuck@gmail.com
See if i care.

With such persuasive arguments highlighted to you in the abovementioned summary of this day's events, THIS MOTION MUST STAND.