Please avoid all sort of hutang2 services as much as possible. Rite now, (soon), you want to start saving money and not spending it away so, no credit cardS. 1 credit card with low limit should be okay, just for emergency cases. Start a life insurance (with withdrawal like a life savings) and etc.

Put away some cash for savings.

The rest.. pandai2 lar budget..
I learnt the hard way.. ahhahaha…

Cheers,

awis: hmm… thanks for the advise.. I learnt a lot from u.. I hope u learned it from ur past.. and better future will coming… huhuhu

BTW The Matrix also uses the Through the Looking Glass and Mirrors motif throughout the films. That's probably where the Lost writers got their idea.

There is one thing that bothers me. 1001101101101 is a binary number like a computer would use. You aren't trying to tell me something I hope. I would be for a bad battery source.

There’s a stillness to the city this evening. The buses and cabs and cars glide by like dreams. The sidewalks are almost empty: just Amy and me walking to dinner in a haze of well-being. We’re holding hands. We’re wearing our Dick Cheney and Sarah Palin masks. Amy is telling me which photo she liked the best. “The girl pissing in the elevator. That was so naughty.”

“Did it turn you on?”

“Oh my, did it ever.”

I squeeze her hand. We step through the revolving door, Amy first but me right after, into the same tight wedge of space. I hold her shoulders, stopping her. “What if we were stuck here?” I say. She chuckles. Turns. Kisses me. The masks make the kiss a little strange. When the kiss stops, I start it up again.

“But I did like the roses,” she says, when finally we revolve out into the lobby. “That was sweet of you. You’re my sweet guy. My hero man.”

The lobby is so posh. Everything is chrome and glass and mirrors. Arm in arm Amy and I stroll to the elevator banks. “It’s on the top floor,” I tell her, pressing the button to summon an elevator. Waiting, we kiss again. The doors open. We step in. The car is not empty. Sarah Palin and Dick Cheney stare at us. Amy looks at me and frowns. Sarah Palin looks at me and frowns.

“I’m sorry,” I tell Sarah and Dick, “but this is a private car. You’ll have to get out.”

Cheney harrumphs. “Do you know who we are?”

“Do you know who we are?” I echo. I touch my fingers to their throats. They sag swiftly to the floor.

“How long will they be out?” Amy asks.

“Long enough to fulfill your fantasy,” I tell her. “If we hurry.”

“Oh, goodie,” she says. I can see her smile through her mask. Such a naughty smile.