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This Shit Called Life: Can we stop meditating and go grab a beer?
By Alden Tan
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
mechanical or electronic, including photocopying or recording, or by any information storage
and retrieval system, or transmitted by email without permission in writing from the publisher.
While all attempts have been made to verify the information provided in this publication,
neither the author nor the publisher assumes any responsibility for errors, omissions, or
contrary interpretations of the subject matter herein.
This book is for entertainment purposes only. The views expressed are those of the author
alone, and should not be taken as expert instructions or commands. The reader is
responsible for his or her own actions. Any resemblance to any real person is purely
Neither the author nor the publisher assumes any responsibility or liability whatsoever on the
behalf of the purchaser or reader of these materials.
The Author
Alden Tan is a blogger who doesn’t like to be called a blogger. He loves to write, nothing
more, nothing less.
Even though he writes about motivation and personal development, he’s sick of all the cliché
bullshit that ranges from meditation, hypnosis and other universe-tapping whatevers. He
hence keeps it real by being in your face and telling it like it is.
He also likes beer and hot girls.
Free gift from Alden himself
Since you landed right here to check out my book, I’ve decided to pass you this little freebie:
12 Things Happy People Don’t Give a Fuck About
You may go to here: to get it. Enjoy! And please
share it with your friends if you like it.

So it has finally come to this: Where I actually shouted, “Fuck this
The book you have in your hands now, or rather your Kindle, Nook or whatever e-reader is
the result of two years of fucking up and, to a certain extent, some soul searching.
Yes, yes, I did the whole, “Quit my job to follow a dream” thing.
Now, does that sound super inspiring or what? Kind of like one of those other successful
dudes who did the same and call getting laid off or quitting their job the “best thing to ever
happen to them”, eh?
Nah. Not really. Not for me at least.
Following a dream is tough as fuck. Heck, I’ve said and written the phrase, “Follow your
dreams” so many times that it has become stale garbage, where the stench permeates the
room so badly that everyone wants it to go away. Yep. Your dreams. Go away, please.
You know what else has become stale garbage? Well, following your heart for one.
Following your passion, too. And doing what you love. And other shit.
Why all the angst and anger you ask? Nah. I’m not angry. Not that much at least. I’m writing
and doing whatever the hell I want now, and with good reason. I learnt that sometimes just
following can lead you nowhere in this shit called life.
It all started two years ago on my birthday. That would be the twenty-second of August,
2011. I started my personal blog:
It was going to be huge! It was going to be the most awesome, motivational blog in the selfhelp
world. I mean, what could go wrong? I love writing, so that checks out following my
heart. I also wanted to help people with my awesome writing, so that checks out doing shit
that matters and not just being in it for the money.
But of course, as with this life, things got hard. Really fucking hard. I couldn’t even begin to
understand the hardships I went through just to reach this point. Sometimes, I’m still blown
away. Like, I ask myself, “The fuck am I doing with my life? The fuck isn’t this shit working
The main problem, over the last two years, was all the stupid ass learning of marketing and
doing business. I wanted to write my heart out, yet make money online. I wanted that whole
(Oh man, here come those buzz words buzzing in) internet lifestyle where I (here it comes
again) design my life according to my own terms. I wanted to make five to six figures online
and do shit wherever I wanted, like bringing my MacBook Air to Starbucks and be like,
“Awww yeah! Just expanding my business while having a pretentious latte. I work wherever I
want bitch!”.
All that shit got in the way of my writing.
I learnt a ton of marketing and business. And I realized I sucked at it. I still suck at it today.
Very much. I hate it. I hate doing marketing. I hate numbers, tracking, testing, copywriting
and whatever. Most of all, I hated how other successful assholes kept forcing their bullshit on
me, like as if I didn’t follow what they were doing and teaching, I’d get punished by the
Internet Marketing God and be doomed to be a starving, broke ass artist forever.
So, why all the angst again Alden? Look, I don’t care. This is my book. And I’m going to, for
once in my life, blame everything else except myself. Oh wow, that actually felt really good
when I typed it out. I got balls, man.
The process of learning marketing and business can be easy in the world of
entrepreneurship. Heck, it’s extremely easy to learn how to do this or that and even to make
money. But it’s very hard to execute it all and make it work for you. This is something no
entrepreneurs will tell you in full. They’ll willingly “mix” that shit up for you though. That
means to say, they’re willing to charge you to teach you the steps which led them to success
while conveniently masking reality. Poof! That’s why enticing headlines like, “I’ll teach you
my EXACT method which made me $12,353.24 in the last two weeks!” suddenly appear.
The truth of the matter is, they aren’t going to teach you everything and hold your hand all
the way through the warzone. That’s when it gets tough. They will, however, tell you it’s
tough somewhere on their sales page. This is the “mix” I mentioned. And if you aren’t savvy
enough to watch out for your own ass, you’ll be sucked in and fucked over.
As of today, I’ve had one “mentor” who scammed me as he taught me nonsense. He
promised to be around all the way through my online journey, but he disappeared slowly
when his grandpa got sick. He stopped replying to my emails eventually. I can only assume
he died himself.
I also joined a promising online course which guaranteed me making four figures a month
after a year with them. I thought, “This is the REAL deal! They even have unlimited email
support!”. I got a refund in a month because I emailed too many questions. Yes. No lie. The
founder even had the nerve to dismiss his bullshit, false advertising by quickly telling me why
I was wrong to ask too many questions. There you have it folks. In the marketing world, don’t
take everything you read literally, as truth, or as gospel. Just reading words can be wrong.
So I’ve been alone for about a year now. And I got nowhere. I just got more tired and sick of
everything in the business world. Entrepreneurs all around were lying assholes. Successful
people were riddled with annoying clichés as they spouted annoying shit like, “Thank God
it’s Monday!” on Facebook. Friends, who were also entrepreneurs would always, and trust
me, I do mean always, offer to help but only when it benefited them greatly, too. You’ll
experience this if you ever try to employ help from business folks who happen to be your
friends, bros or whatever.
Rightly so, I did feel depressed at some points. I was just so lost! Could you blame me? I
wanted someone to throw me a fucking bone here, but I got no bones. What did I get
instead? I got advice from more annoying assholes who told me I needed to “shift my
paradigm”. I also needed to tap into some shit from within and be “aligned with the
universe”. A fellow internet marketer once outright told me, through Skype, “Oh, oh, I see
what’s wrong with you. You don’t have the right mindset. That’s why you’re failing. You don’t
have the law of attraction in place”.
Of course, that just grinded my rusty gears even more. I wished someone would just punch
me in the head, but I guess others were too successful to even do that for me.
To top it all off, the last time I talked about business with a friend, my final line was, “Look
bro. I don’t want any more fucking guidance, consultation or whatever. I don’t want you guys
to keep telling me all sorts of miraculous bullshit methods and then back it up by telling me
that I need to work hard. And then when things fuck up and the fan is spraying shit all over,
you guys conveniently fucking tell me I didn’t work hard enough”.
Enough is fucking enough. I looked at the clock and I decided it was “Fuck this shit!” o’clock.
Today, I’ve two years of marketing, business, blogging and writing experience under my belt.
I’m still around as my tenacious balls are serving as the foundation for everything that’s
going wrong.
As I’m writing this, I also have less than five hundred dollars in the bank. I don’t give a fuck if
you’re surprised. I don’t mind telling you this. The last thing I want to be is an annoying
entrepreneur who willingly shows off my monetary success but works so damn fucking hard
to hide my weaknesses. I’m only human, like all of you. Think about the way I just said that.
Thus, you have this book. It took two years to go a full circle back to where I started, the part
where I was the innocent writer who wanted nothing more than to express his awesome
views. But instead, I concocted a “dream” around it based on an external definition of
success that had nothing to do with what I really wanted. Then the reality of the situation set
in and the “successful” people I decided to look up to turned out to be a bunch of annoying
dicks. Passion is a funny thing honestly. If you have the good fortune of having one, don’t
compromise it based on false pretences and fear. Because trust me, if you do, you will go
full circle like me anyway and land back at square one. God willing, you won’t get into some
bad shit along the detour.
This book is all me. It’s very real. It has very real stories. It’s pure writing, from the heart. And
when I say it’s a book, it’s a real fucking book. It’s absolutely not a bunch of old blog posts
strung together and then conveniently called a book. I’ve done that before so I could sell
some “eBooks” on my blog. I felt dirty afterwards. So, when I say this is a real fucking book,
it has fresh material and real stories which actually happened. It has my perspective and my
ideas only. I do not and will not ever outsource to other writers for my own shit. I could never
live it down if I outsourced my own writing. That’s like getting a cute puppy on impulse,
getting sick of that cute face and then making sure my maid walks that thing for me. It’s
wrong, I tells ya!
This book is also for you. I present to you my heart in a not-so-romantic way. This thwarted
and tired heart is still beating. Be prepared to relate the fuck out to me, a fellow imperfection.
This is my beer to you, my gift of pure relaxation and enjoyment, which is the best gift I think
anyone can give. You see, we all try so hard and get so focused that we can lose sight of the
people we love, the things we like to do and, worse, who we really are. This book is filled
with many people who need to get over themselves and go grab a fucking beer. That goes
for me, especially. When the clock finally struck “Fuck this shit!” I was way overdue for a cold
one and time to reflect.
While you’re “drinking” my beer to you, I promise you won’t swallow any bullshit slogans,
methods or religions du jour. It’s plain, and fucking simple. Let’s keep it that way okay? I
really don’t give a fuck if your world, paradigm, universe, law, spirituality, galaxy or whatever
turns you into a comet. Keep that shit to yourself. I ain’t preaching, here. These are just my
stories and if you learn from them, great! If you don’t, then I hope at least you are
entertained. I want to help, but let’s keep it clean. I am so clean that, heck, in thinking about
it, you probably won’t feel empowered by this stuff.
Now,at long last, it’s time to stop. It’s time for you to stop meditating, obsessing, pursuing,
judging or whatever and just have fun with the stories contained in the following pages. It’s
beer time! Cheers!

Breaking up with your best friend. Sometimes you just need to let go
of things
I had a best friend for over twenty years. “Had” is the word as I recently decided to end the
friendship and cut him loose. That’s twenty years down the drain. Not lying. Frivolous as it
may sound, I ended things by blocking his ass on Facebook.
It would be one-and-a-half weeks since I last spoke to him as I’m writing this right now. He
does not know it at all. I doubt that he will for a long time and that’s fine by me. Let’s refer to
him as Zach. Okay, I’m actually not afraid to reveal his real name, but it’s a less coolsounding,
Chinese one which has a space in between. I’m too lazy to type that shit out.
Zach and I went way back. We became friends twenty years ago. We were a couple of
seven year-old tykes in primary school, the grade school equivalent. We bonded through our
love for video games (Super Nintendo anyone?).
Now, Zach’s mom was a super strict mom who didn’t allow him to do shit. I was only allowed
to go to his house to play video games when we had a holiday break from primary school.
That only happened four times a year. I always looked forward to that special day to play
games with him.
As we grew up, we just drifted apart as we led very fucking different lives.
In primary school, he got into the gifted program. I went to the second-worst class every
In our final year, we all had to take this major examination which determined which high
school we would go to. Out of a maximum of 300, he scored 264. I got 191. I really love this
score haha. It makes me so proud that I was such a young fuck-up.
Zach got all the accolades of being an awesome student as he went to one of the most
prestigious high schools in Singapore. I went to a shitty one which was notorious for having
other young fuck-ups who were in a gang, their favourite activity being sneaking to the toilet
during lessons for a smoke break. And at that time, since schools taught us not to smoke, it
was like, “Holy fuck! These guys are smoking even though they’re under sixteen! And they’re
in uniform! They must therefore be in gangs and may influence me to smoke. That’d most
definitely destroy my life altogether”. I was deathly afraid of these guys.
We were only twelve when we entered high school.
To cut a long story short, Zach today has a wife and a son. His son is two years old now.
Zach is also a teacher.
Such a far cry from the life I’m leading now, eh? Alden Tan, the writer and blogger who has
struggled for the last two years to make ends meet. He’s not even using his college degree,
which is blasphemy to guys like Zach. He has no money and doesn’t have a god damn plan
for the future. It’s all cool though. Everyone around him may be getting married and shit, but
Alden has Bboying and writing. His art.
So anyway, I decided to call off the friendship after I commented on one of his pictures on
Facebook that he was balding.
True story. I love it. I fucking love it.
Zach’s exact reply was, “You know Al, sometimes you deeply annoy me”.
So I was like, “Yeah okay. I’m sorry. Whatever”.
I felt a little bad, but the more I thought about it, the more pissed I got.
You see, besides the obvious fact that Zach and I led very different lives on two different
paths which don’t fucking look alike at all, I felt really short changed out of the pathetic
friendship I was trying to hold together.
He was always busy whenever I asked to meet up.
In high school, he was busy with homework and shit. In junior college, he was always busy
with work and shit again. In college, he was busy with projects and shit. Then, his wife came
along. Then, his son. Go fucking figure.
Now, I’d never be the sort of best friend, or a normal friend for that matter, who would shit on
his own friends and be like, “Yo, fuck your whatever man. Set aside some god damn time
and chill with me.”
Never. Not once did I do that.
So what did I do? Well, what could I do? I only had Facebook Chat and the few opportunities
to comment on his shit.
And apparently I went too far when I commented that he was balding, which I maintain that
he still is. For fuck’s sake people, if you know you’re balding and don’t like people to allude to
that, then do something about it! Bald is a fucking choice, balding isn’t. Or just get the fuck
off Facebook.
After, I apologized and said, “Yeah. That was too far”, Zach told me, “Glad you realized. Can
you remove that?”.
I had to delete the fucking comment.
So it hit me: I had to delete the fucking comment. Me, your best fucking friend, who has been
putting in the damn effort to ask you out only to get rejected all the time and hence gave up
and resorted to the idea of only being able to chat with you on Facebook, suddenly had to do
your fucking bidding.
Well, excuse me for trying. Never again then.
I thought about it for a few days. I even consulted a few friends. Should I block him? Should I
just be done with all this bullshit? Should I throw away twenty years of friendship?
I got my own answer simply by looking within.
I knew I had to end this shit when I looked back. We may be different, but something was
very fucking wrong when your son was born and I had to find out through Facebook myself.
No text. No call.
Something was very fucking wrong when we met an average of less than five times a year
for the existence of that friendship, most of which were mere coincidences of being at the
same place.
Something was very fucking wrong when you replied, “Why are you always quarrelling?
What’s wrong with you?” when I opened up the conversation of how I quarrelled with my exgirlfriend
because, oh you know, she fucking cheated on me.
Something was very fucking wrong when I excitedly told you about my first job out of college
and you condescendingly replied, “Got a college degree and you want to sell insurance. –
Face Palm-“. Oh yes, I sold insurance for a bit. I was your annoying salesman. More on that
next time!
Something was very fucking wrong when I stopped wanting to tell you things when I was at
my happiest, or my lowest.
But now, I’m setting it right.
That was the pathetic excuse of a friendship we had. It simply degenerated into shit.
That’s just how it is in life, I guess. Time always flows and people change, even if some of
them are your best friends. Sometimes, whether you like it or not, you’ll be left at the
sidelines. You just have to let it go. And you have to do that by making that decision
Also, don’t be surprised when people just change for the worse and decide to take
everything else for granted. Zach is extremely comfortable with his life, which is why he
dared to ever talk down to me. I don’t think he remembers the time he told the medical
officer in the army that he thought of killing himself because he couldn’t take the training and
then subsequently being warded. I don’t think he remembers he wasn’t allowed to eat with a
fork. I remember because he was crying to me on the phone about it all. And there you have
it: When people are comfortable, they lose humility. You shouldn’t ever have to deal with
such bullshit from so-called friends.
Some friends I spoke to told me that this wasn’t really a big deal and that I should let it go
because people fuck up and stuff. But I think you’ve got to look deep down and make the
heavy decisions yourself. If the issue is an important and heavy one, only you know what’s
best for you. Only you have all the experience and memories needed to make the heavy
decision. No one else qualifies, so they can fuck off.
And yes, I know what you’re thinking. “Damn Alden, that’s friggin twenty years! Why are you
so sure you got to do this?!”
Well twenty years is definitely a long time, but like I said, when it comes to heavy shit, only
you can decide for sure what’s best. And I personally think that this shit has been holding me
back. I’ve had a rough couple of years with this blog and in some weird, intangible sort of
way that fits under, “I know I got to do this shit!”. I know I need to let this go to allow more
awesome things to flow into my life. If you think about it, twenty years is fucking nothing. I
got eons to go.
And since I’m such a badass, I’m not sitting on the sidelines to take shit from others.
Time flows man. Everybody grows up. But at the same time, sometimes we just grow apart.
But you can be a badass too, though.
Ideas of “best” are up to you. Others have told me as a best friend I shouldn’t be acting like
such a bitch. But I know deep down I want to feel appreciated.
Ideas of time being too long, too short, or whatever are also up to you. Fuck what others
Ideas of letting go? Sometimes the thinking has got to stop. You just fucking do it. Don’t be
afraid to make the best decisions of your life.
And that’s why this chapter shall not be ended with me wishing Zach all the best or some
other cliché shit.
Zach, if for any reason you actually manage to finally carve time out of your god damn life
and decide that “busy” is not your most favourite word, I dare you, I double-dare you to
ballsy up and talk to me about this. But of course, you’re going to have to shut the fuck up
and listen to what I have to say first, else I know I’m just going to get a rain of narrow-minded
bullshit coming from that teacher mouth of yours.
But rest assured, there’s no going back to that pathetic excuse of a friendship. I’m waiting.

When my dad died
On June 11th 2006, my dad died.
And I’ve told this story plenty of times before, so much so that I am kind of sick of it. Only
kind of. Much like the surreal feeling I get from the reality that someone I grew up with was
suddenly taken away like that, it’s both comforting and tiring to keep telling this story.
But well, it was this major event that made me the person I am today.
My dad died of ALS (Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis) or Lou Gehrig’s disease as it’s more
commonly known thanks to Lou Gehrig himself. I don’t even care for baseball.
ALS is fucked up. Very fucked up. It’s “up there” with cancer. There’s no known cause and
no known cure for it. To this day, I still do research on the disease, hoping to see a
breakthrough in search for its cure, but usually there’s not much news on it.
Basically, this asshole of a disease fucks your brain up such that its ability to send signals to
the body slowly dies off. And I do mean, slowly. Anyone with ALS would slowly lose every
function in his or her body, so symptoms include breathing difficulties, loss of motor
functions, saliva production stops, muscle weakness, weight loss and eventually, death.
The worst part? Your mind would be intact. That means you’re still human inside, just that
your body continues to fuck itself up until you die. You just watch yourself die.
The average lifespan of an ALS patient is two to five years. My dad died after only two.
Did I mention that there’s no known cause or cure? Yeah. The only medication for it is some
shit that extends your life for a few months, not that that’s much of a life anyway.
So yeah, I had to watch my dad slowly become a small mass of bone and skins. I had to
watch him change completely as his once cheerful demeanor slowly dissipated into a sad
person who saw no hope for his life. He was only 58 when he died in his sleep.
I was only 20, two months shy of my birthday that year, when it happened.
And so it happened on that very day. I remember coming home from my waiter job in the
morning. It was like six am. I went to take a shit and shower. When I got out of the toilet, I
discovered that all the lights in the house were switched on. I was like, “The fuck?”. Next
thing I knew, my brother came to my room crying.
Then he said those words, “Pa just passed away”.
Then he told me to go put on some clothes since I was only in my boxers. I went to the toilet
to change, all the while thinking, “I can’t believe this is happening already”.
Then I ran to the master bedroom and saw the most insane sight of my life: My dad’s lifeless
body on his bed.
My mom was sitting there crying. I ran to her. Hugged her. Cried like fuck. I don’t know why,
but I remember telling her that I haven’t been a good son and that I was very sorry.
The next few days we had the wake at our house. You’d think that discovering my dad was
dead and subsequently seeing his lifeless body were eye-openers, or that I’d have been
given a fucking break, but nah, so much shit happened at the wake that you might as well
have taped my eyes opened permanently.
For starters, it was a catholic wake which was bizarre since my dad wasn’t even catholic. As
far as I knew, as he was slowly dying day by day, he gave up on his Taoist faith. And then I
had an aunt and uncle who were born-again Catholics, so you can go figure about how
fervent they were in their faith. That particular uncle had a falling out with my dad years
before over money issues. He visited my dad upon knowing that he had ALS, which was
cool. After that, my mom said that my dad briefly mentioned about how impressed he was in
the change in my uncle.
Bam. Therefore, somehow the wake was catholic. That’s all I know. I was fine with whatever.
I was basically roaming around the house like a zombie, where depression was my only
sustenance. I only found it bizarre… and slightly annoying that we had two processions or
whatever the fuck it’s called during the wake itself. Why two? One uncle, one aunty, two
different churches. Go figure. This also meant members of those churches, who didn’t know
my dad at all came for the wake which was cool I guess except that I had to deal with small
talk. Trust me, it’s really not that fun to listen to small talk when you’re a depressed zombie.
Apparently my dad also told my mom that he wanted a small wake when he died. Yes, he
was already talking about when he would die before he died. He didn’t want it to be a big
deal, so my mom didn’t bother informing his aunt and uncles a.k.a. old people we only met
on annual occasions like Lunar New Year or some random wedding in the extended family
But they found out anyway.
They came in a group and created a big fuss about it. Nobody said they were really sorry
about what happened. They were more bent on finding out why they were not informed. I
swear one of the uncles seemed pissed. My poor mom had to deal with their shit. I don’t
remember much. I was just aghast with the reality in front of me then. I think I went back to
my room. They left eventually.
The next biggest thing to happen during the wake was when this annoying-as-fuck aunt,
from my mom’s side of the family came. According to Chinese customs and shit, my brother
and I had to stand at the coffin and greet any visitors who wanted to pay their respects. This
aunt said loudly at the door, “Huh? We got to take off our shoes?”. I was like… fuck me, shut
the hell up.
So I told my brother something along the lines of, “I can’t believe we have someone like that
Next thing I knew, my brother grabbed my shoulder and said angrily, “This is not about you
Holy… FUCK! I couldn’t believe my ears.
In my head I was like, “Our dad just died. His body is laying right there. If today isn’t about
us, then when?!”
Of course, being the depressed zombie I was then, I didn’t say a thing. I was just still feeling
sad and shit. Sometimes I do wonder why I held back and did not go totally berserk though. I
guess you just got to accept that different people, even if they’re connected to you by blood,
can have radically different ideas.
Finally on the last day, my dad was cremated at the local columbarium. I cried like fuck. But
my mom didn’t cry. She was strong as hell. She clearly said to me once, “Everybody is
crying. But we don’t. We’ll be strong for everybody”. I was so impressed. Yet, I obviously
failed at that.
Goodbyes are always the hardest. And this particular one was a permanent one-time thing.
Watching the coffin being reeled in on the automatic thingy in the fire was just like a really
bad movie. It was short. It was a teaser. It was also ushering in a new life for my family. It
had to happen.
It was a shitty few days. But plenty of good came out of it, especially after everything was
I called a friend on the first day of the wake. He knew my dad was sick for a long time. He
was very sorry and shit and said he wanted to come. I was like, nah, it’s okay, because I
knew he lived really far away. He came the next day anyway and he wrote me a really long
note. That really got to me because like he was the first to tell me to stay strong and stuff. He
even remembered that I said I was going to give up on the “college dream” of staying in
hostel to party and all, so I could stay home and accompany my dad. That was really cool. I
still keep the note in my little drawer today. I look at it from time to time.
After the wake I discovered that a friend’s dad also passed on years ago, from cancer. When
I met him he instantly said, “Alden! Bro! Dude, if you want to talk about anything, and I mean
anything! Please don’t hesitate to talk to me”. I was touched.
After the wake I experienced a lot of regret. The thing is I didn’t spend a lot of time with my
dad. I didn’t get to know him as well as I should have. I felt like a shitty son who cared about
his own life. I was telling this to a friend, and he simply said this, “I’m sure, wherever your
dad is now, he is and was always proud knowing that you were happy being the person you
are”. I was… taken aback. Even reading that again makes me want to tear.
I think in this shit called life, yeah, shit happens whether you like it or not. Although I scream
out from time to time asking why my dad had to go, this life happens anyway. One of the
things I was afraid of was wondering how me and my family could move on with life; how we
could get over the grief. But it happened. We had to move on anyway. It was tough
somewhat, but nothing drastic, not like shit you see in the movies. None of us had
depression. Life just keeps moving whether you like it or not and if you’re rational person
who holds on to the reasons you have, you’ll keep moving on.
I’m reluctant to say, “Everything happens for a reason” because it’s cliché as fuck, like as if
life throws shit at you so you can overcome whatever to attain some amazing gift. But,
unfortunately, it’s kind of true. I’m not going to start naming all the positive changes I made in
my life. They already happened, that’s why you’re reading this book.
Now, the more surreal reality of death and other bad shit happening in your life is that… well,
after you’ve come to accept it, you just don’t want it go another way. You can’t anyway. I
don’t wish for a life where my dad is still around. That’s just too unbelievable. That’s how
acceptance works in life. You just got to deal with what you have and make a positive spin
out of it all. This is my life and this is my gift. It’s through my dad’s death that I managed to
rise out of mediocrity and make something of myself. That’s how I’ve become weird and I’m
proud as fuck of it. No one ever needs to understand, except me. And writing all of this
definitely has me believing that my dad is watching and it’s a tale he and I will enjoy.
If you can’t find the reason behind something yet, it’s because it’s not time yet. You need to
keep moving forward first. And eventually, it will come. It will always come. If you put life
above yourself and start believing in something even greater than life itself, you’ll be treated
to a better life.
Otherwise, well, just continue living and dealing with normal bullshit. Then pray that your
normal bullshit doesn’t escalate into major ones, like what I’ve been through. Good luck
This chapter deserves all the beers in the world, because my dad drank beer too. Cheers to
you Pa.

Where God was not the light, the way, or the truth.
Back when I was seventeen I was a Christian. Yep. I prayed and shit.
No hating on religion or anything, but this has got to be the most hilarious part of my life.
A fellow churchgoer friend back then said that my story of becoming a Christian, or giving my
life to Jesus Christ, was a “revolutionary and inspiring” one. That honestly was a huge
exaggeration because all I seriously did was look up Christianity on the internet.
Yeah. I was bored. So I became a Christian. That’s pretty much the gist of it all.
Well okay, I read up on Christianity because I was intrigued by the idea of God, that an outof-this-world
entity was actually out there. It inspired me because I saw it as an opportunity
to believe in something even greater than life itself. I mean, come on, look at this shit called
life. We’re all pretty much just growing up by going to school and then to work, and that’s if
we’re “lucky”, like you know, having food, shelter and other basic shit. But God only knows
(What? Who? Which God?) what we need exactly to lead a fulfilling life.
By the way, I write God with a capital ‘G’ to signify that I believe there’s perhaps one person
up there overlooking everything. He or she doesn’t have to belong to any religion. Oh that’s
right; God doesn’t belong to our man-made idea called religion.
Anyway, yeah, I wanted to believe in something that’s bigger than my current state which
was just pretty much studying in junior college, going out with friends, video games and
hoping to get a girlfriend, which I never did at that time.
Now, here’s how I had my moment of divine intervention. I was watching porn and jacking off
one evening. It was raining outside. Midway through reaching my climax and also the good
part in the video, lightning struck the road outside my house. Outside my window literally
fucking went, “BOOM!” and shit.
I stopped wanking. I thought God was pissed. That was my divine intervention. I took it as a
message to stop fucking around and start being religious.
One of my best friends then brought me to his church and that was the start of some of the
best times I’ve ever had in my life but also the decline of my faith in God.
I attended church regularly. I went almost every Sunday and I looked forward to it. I really
liked worship, which in hindsight actually meant I really liked to express myself through
singing and then get to eat the free food afterwards. I even joined the youth prayer
committee, thinking that I was the shit as I started to pray for others.
I even went for youth camp one year. It was cool. I had a lot of fun which, in hindsight, meant
I had fun bunking in with my friends, talking shit and all while thinking we were doing great
work and also scoring good karma points since we were doing it all for God. And yes, there
were pretty girls around. That was cool, of course. We spent our time trying to impress them,
as young horny boys would try to. I remember intentionally walking out of the shared, male
shower room topless. I wanted to show off my hot body when I was actually scrawny and
pale as fuck. If Jesus shone some light then, it was all on me.
So yeah, I had a lot of fun in church. Some of my greatest memories were from there.
Christmas in church was just amazing. With decorations, worship hymns of Jesus, reenactments
of Jesus’ birth and the supposed blessings from God himself, it was feeling
really Christmas-y.
I’d hang out with my church friends at their house. It was fun and cool as I got to know them
There were also some hot girls in church and I remember having a crush on more than one.
So I had fun making a fool of myself to impress them.
And the church camp? Fuck. My best buddy made it memorable. We had “reflection” hour in
the mornings where we’d all go to the nearby beach, sit by ourselves and start reflecting on
our little Christian lives or whatever. Instead of reflecting, my buddy went to swim in the sea
with his clothes on. Nobody else asked why he was all wet from reflection.
A year later, like a few months before my eighteenth birthday, things started to go downhill.
My faith in Christianity was declining at a rapid pace.
It all started when I picked up an old copy of “Conversations With God” by Neale Ronald
Walsh. That book changed my perspective on everything. You could say I was fooled at first.
I thought it was a book on the Christian God and that it was going to enhance my faith in
But instead it fucked my mind over and made me stop believing altogether LOL. It’s pretty
funny when you put it like that.
Honestly, the thing is, I had already started doubting my faith. And no, it wasn’t a case where
the church fucked it up for me while God was still intact and whatever. I really had my own
personal doubts. Just like how I found my way to God initially with the help of the internet, I
also found my own way out with various sources.
The first thing that really got to me with the church was the idea that my love for God and his
love for me was shared with everyone else. I mean, I gave my life to God and did that whole
“give my heart to God” prayer on a real, personal level. That was what I wanted, a personal
relationship with God. I guess you could say I wanted an all-knowing, omnipresent bro who
watched over me. But I didn’t get that in church. What I saw was a mass, collective idea of
God. Every time I was in church I was thinking like, “Why am I sharing this love with
everyone here? And why the hell are we taught about this personal love by a single, human
pastor? Oh shit! I said ‘hell’! That’s bad!”
Needless to say, I was confused as fuck. But I certainly didn’t want to share the love, so to
speak. I didn’t want someone to teach me how to love, much less teach me how to feel and
accept love from something or someone.
The second thing was convenience. The bible simply had way too many convenient answers
and it was all taught to us to be true, never false, simply because it was the word of God.
You know the whole shebang:
Say, “I don’t understand why this shit happened” and you’ll get “God works in mysterious
Say, “I’m not sure what to do” and you’ll get “Pray and God will lead the way”. And when
things don’t turn out the way you wanted, you refer back to the above. I remember one time
during church, they flashed on the Powerpoint, “First three rows, please pray for the turmoil
and people in Afghanistan”. Wow, seriously? If a war itself can be settled by prayer, then life
would be so damn easy eh? It wasn’t just God working in mysterious ways. War alone is a
Say, “I want to masturbate” and the answer is fucking no, of course, because God probably
hates masturbation and you aren’t allowed to pleasure yourself. Why can’t I masturbate?! It’s
not harming anyone.
The most convenient answer which I got was back in that youth camp. During worship, one
of my friends disappeared. Then she came back. And she was bawling her eyes out. She
was crying like a bitch. Later on, I’d ask my church senior, an elder mentor if you will, why
she was crying. He immediately replied, “Oh, she was touched by the Holy Spirit”. God
damn, that spirit really has a way with girls. I took that answer in, but to this day it really
bothers me how he, another fellow “brother in Christ”, was so quick to accept such an
The third thing was the double standards the church had on people. I think the church is
man-made, hence, it’s flawed and that means every Christian is flawed. No human is
perfect, duh. I understood that, but the church didn’t seem to. I had a crazy, church-going
girlfriend (more on this later!) who kept riding my ass to straighten up and go to church and
shit. One time I replied and asked what if the pastor was too busy for church one day. She
conveniently (again the convenience!) replied that he’s just one guy, he’s not perfect and that
I should give him a break. Holy fuck. She obviously needed to get laid! But she didn’t allow
me to, what the fuck? More on that later. You’re going to love it.
These double standards reeked of hypocrisy to me. I just kept losing faith. I stopped praying.
I cut down on going to church. I read more books on spirituality, metaphysics, new age and
scoured the “Conversations With God” forums, thirsty for knowledge. I once posted a thread
inside titled, “Is it really wrong to masturbate?” and the replies I got were what I needed.
People were open, cool and non-judgemental.
Three strikes already. The finishing move came like a dropkick to my face. The elder mentor
dude knew I was losing faith. He wanted to help me. He wanted to ask me out to talk and
stuff. Now, by then I was kind of like the “designated bad boy” of the youth group. Everybody
knew I partied and drank a lot. I was also skipping church a lot. Elder mentor dude said to
me, “Hey Alden… how about we head out sometime at night? We can talk….. AND
Okay, he didn’t shout the drinking part, but it seriously came out of nowhere. It felt like he
added that in to try to get to my level. I only did this fake shit when I tried (and failed) to
impress girls back then, like the time I told a girl I was interested in learning Latin Dance
(because there would be hand-holding and body grabbing).
And so, I lost faith completely. If I could give you one reason in one line, it would be that I do
not think that life itself can be captured by a single institution, or book.
This shit called life is just life, man. There’re way too many fucking people who are all
brought up differently, so who’s to say who is good or bad?
There’re also way too many religions, and there’re good people in each religion. I think
religion is just a buffet. You choose which god you want to believe in and then it’s still up to
you to how you want to lead your own life. Go back for seconds if you want to. Who’s to say
which religion and its followers are qualified for salvation or eternal damnation?
This shit called life… is kind of shit. But I can easily sum it up for you. I can easily sum it up
for all religions:
You just try to be happy. Along the way, you be kind to others and give a helping hand when
you can.
That’s all. God is not on earth. He’s somewhere the fuck else. We’re only human, and all we
have is each other.
Today, I’ve no religion, but I’m not an atheist either. I choose to believe in the possibility that
there is something greater out there. And it doesn’t have to be God. It can be aliens or
whatever. We don’t need to waste time thinking about the endgame (death and what
happens after). We just have to be happy and help others.
When I die, and if I do meet God, he or she is buying me a fucking beer.

On being betrayed. People can be really desperate.
This is an epic story. It’s filled with drama and it’s regarding a certain someone whom I used
to be close with. Be prepared for some bitchy ranting!
So, I had a friend named Jon. Okay that’s easy to spell out. I guess, for once, he’s proven
We fell out a few years ago. We don’t talk at all and this one time, when I bumped into him at
a bar, I started a fight. It was a really dumb thing for me to do, but that’s just how bad it was.
I have a lot of hatred for him. That means to say I do not respect him at all, but I don’t spend
my time thinking about him or even feeling an inch of anger towards him.
Here’s how the story goes:
Jon and I were close. And during our friendship he had a girlfriend whom he cheated on
constantly. And I do mean constantly. He would fuck and make out with a ton of other girls
who didn’t know any better.
The sad thing about it was that his then girlfriend didn’t even have a clue about it all.
The disgusting thing about it was that Jon was always ready to justify his actions. He would
say things like, “Cheating is obviously an okay thing to do” or “As long as she doesn’t find
out, I didn’t do anything wrong”.
Once, during beers, he even raised his glass and said, “Cheers to cheating!”.
It was disgusting. It was also a very obvious front he tried to put on to cover his insecurities
and guilt. And that was very weird because he would call me to complain about the girlfriend,
specifically how she wanted to wear a bikini top to a local theme park to get a tan, and Jon
flipped out because that was wrong to him.
That was wrong? Wow. It boggles my mind how someone could think that stuffing his dick in
some other girl is justifiable while wearing a bikini top outside was wrong.
So anyway, I never once intervened. I wasn’t that close to the girlfriend and I felt it wasn’t my
And then one day, Jon’s group of friends from college found out about his cheating ways and
they decided to team up, get together, get the girlfriend out and tell her everything.
I didn’t step in, of course. It wasn’t my affair and I felt Jon could learn a thing or two about
having some morals or even having some humanity from within.
I’d admit though, I was excited as fuck! I couldn’t wait for shit to go down. I was thinking,
“Finally! This dickhead was going to get what he deserves”.
It was also funny as hell as the college group guys would harass Jon at intervals. One of
them decided to drop him an instant message, “Hey dude, I heard you sleep around”. And
then logged off.
I had another friend who felt the same as me. Let’s call him Yan. Yan was also excited as
fuck. We had a discussion about our friendship with Jon because we both felt uncomfortable
with the shit he was doing. It was nice to know some guys out there actually have a
Okay so, judgement day came. The college group met the girlfriend and told her everything.
I got wind of it when she texted me herself, “Hey Alden. I know about everything. Can we
To which I replied, “Hi. Please get everything settled with Jon first. Then we can talk. It’s only
fair as he’s my friend”.
Again, not my affair right?
Yan and I were just waiting around during the fallout. We had a talk about what would
probably happen next. We both thought Jon would admit he was wrong, learn his lesson, get
broken up because he obviously deserved it and then he would have to realize what an
asshole he’s been.
We were wrong. Dead fucking wrong. Everything Yan and I predicted was way off the mark.
Jon didn’t admit anything. He didn’t think he was wrong. He lied about everything. And it was
both hilarious and bizarre as fuck.
The day after judgement day, Yan called me on the phone and was like,” Dude! Do you
know what he fucking said?! Do you know what he told her?”
I was intrigued.
“He told her he swore on his own parents that he never cheated before in his life! His
parents! He swore on his own fucking parents!”
Yan was going ape shit. He’s a good dude. He’s filial and family is damn important to him.
I was mind-blown that that loser Jon would say such shit.
But the shit never ended. I decided to talk to the already-ex girlfriend to, you know, hopefully
comfort her. She did just end a 5 year-long relationship which was a lie to her all along.
I got the shit. The following is all true, simply because I read them all online as she copied
and pasted everything Jon said to her to me.
“I’m a Catholic. I will never do such a thing. Infidelity is wrong in the eyes of Mother Mary.”
Holy. Fuck. This guy was desperate as hell!
“Lydia? [High school friend whom he was fucking around with] She is getting married.
Please leave her out of this.”
Holy. Fuck. Again. This guy was trying to appear magnanimous and shit.
I was blown away. Yan was disgusted as hell. We never thought someone could stoop so
low. We never thought swearing on one’s parents was an answer to one’s predicament.
Then the shit finally hit the fucking fan and sprayed its diarrhoea all over our faces.
Jon blamed me and Yan for everything. He told her, and yes, we read everything via text
and instant messages, that as we were his closest friends, we should have covered up for
him. We should have lied to her as we were his “bros”. We should have made sure that he
was safe and that he wouldn’t lose the girlfriend he wanted to marry.
Marry?! He wanted to marry this girl, someone whom he has contemplated breaking up with
many times while he fucked around, and then pussied out of breaking up with excuses like,
“Nah man. My birthday is coming. I should get my gift first”. Yes, that is also true as he told it
to me himself.
So, the mind-blowness Yan and I experienced slowly turned into anger. We were pissed that
someone would expect us to bow down to his bullshit morals and misguided ideas of
friendship and start hurting people.
Then, the anger just turned into nothing. We were like, “Dude. Fuck it. Let’s not talk to him
And just like that, we never once spoke to Jon again.
Everything you’ve read, so far, is true. It’s a wild and bizarre story of desperation, cheating,
betrayal and generally why one should never act like a stupid asshole. Yes… this is how
stupid you’d look if you refuse to come clean. This is how stupid you look if you keep lying
your ass off.
I felt like a fucking fool! To think that this loser was considered a close friend of mine. And
the funny thing about it all was that many others were telling me to dump him as a friend
long before everything happened. Yeah, I had a lot of feedback that Jon was an asshole, but
I was always quick to defend him. How wrong I was to not see through the cracks of his
It’s funny, eh?
I know how when shit hits the fan, you can get desperate. You may probably make up an
excuse or two here and there and that is perfectly understandable. We are all human, flawed
ones at that. But if you start fucking up and keep finding a way to blame others? You’re in for
a really messed up life. You should never blame others for your bullshit. Never.
You should also never put on a front. If you fuck up, say you fucked up. Your friends will
understand. They will be there for you and they would want to help you grow. Just be sincere
about it. Don’t make shit up and repeat the same thing over and over. Be your true self and
let others know the person you’re meant to be. Jon was so insecure that he would put in a
ton of effort to socialize with random people. During the World Cup season, Yan told me he’d
read up on soccer, something he doesn’t give a fuck about just so he could talk it with other
guys, probably to try to appear manly and stuff. It was honestly impossible for a guy like him
to be manly, since he strived to carry Prada purse-bags or whatever you want to call those
“metro sexual” bullshit brand things.
And follow your gut about people. I didn’t. I kept coming up with bullshit for Jon. I wish I
listened to all the others who told me he was a really fake dude who only cared for himself. It
was true, I sort of knew it, but I didn’t want to follow it. As such, I was called a traitor instead.
Like my ex-best friend Zach, sometimes you just got to let things go. Ideas of friendship are
always changing and people can change very easily. And in my case, I got the shit from
others. Don’t take shit from others. If your friends can’t be peaceful or lift you up in a positive
manner, then fuck them. Those are not your true friends.
Oh, the fight I started with Jon? My friends had to pull me back after I got up in his face
about all his bullshit. He was scared shitless because I was just so mad at him. He then
complained about it the next day to a mutual friend and said how he wanted to forgive me.
Holy. Fuck.

The first is always the hardest. People are not what they seem.
Attack of the exes: Part I
This is the part I tell you about my ex-girlfriends. Yep. For every self-help book where the
author wants to talk about his or her own life, there’re the exes who always find their way in.
I hope you enjoy it, because I certainly didn’t.
Julia was my first, real girlfriend. I was only 19, going on 20 back then. She actually should
be known as evil, conniving, hypocritical bitch, but that shit would be too long to type. I don’t
want to put in that much effort, even for authenticity’s sake.
Julia and I met in church. Haha. I’m sorry. I just had to type out my laughter. The thought of
me going to church back then is hilarious. Anyway, we got close when I invited her to my
house one day. I just thought she would be an easy target. Not for sex, though. I was still a
virgin back then. I was that much of a newbie when it came to relationships and the concept
of love. She was an easy target to me because back then, before we became an item, she
seemed rather extra-friendly to me. Like she would lean on me and cling on to my arm when
we met up. Being the virgin-newbie I was, feeling the physical touch of a female was like,
“OHhhhhh ShitZ! She likes me!”
Needless to say, I was just desperate for a girlfriend. I took whatever I could. Any kind of
attention I got from a decent looking girl was considered a phenomenal milestone in my life
back then.
We somehow started off holding hands and shit. We got closer as we hung out more. We
kissed. She said she loved me. I said I loved her back. She came over a lot.
We didn’t have sex. Not at all. She wasn’t a virgin though. She did it with her ex. That tore
me up inside. What’s more? I wasn’t even allowed to “go all in” and indulge in a serving of
sloppy seconds. Why? Because Julia was super churchy and shit. She told me she made a
covenant with God and therefore, her body was the temple of God and it shouldn’t be
desecrated. I really didn’t understand the way of the Christian life since I pretty much had
given it up by then.
But -DUH-. I desecrated the fuck out of that temple of God. Wait. That would be a wrong
thing to say since we didn’t go all the way. Okay. I kind of vandalized that shit by spray
painting graffiti all over it. Wait! I can’t say spray. I didn’t even cum! Alright. I went in that
temple, and touched stuff. I rubbed around and rearranged things, you know what I’m
That was all. That was the first time I touched pussy. It felt kind of nice even though I had no
fucking clue to what I was doing. I should have watched more porn back then.
That was the first time we got so intimate. What happened next was Julia stopping all the fun
and was like, “Oh my God. Alden!”. She must have been talking to God, not me. I was like,
“What?”. She grabbed her clothes and went to the bathroom. She started showering for God
knows what reason. I could hear it.
She came out. I was like, “Baby, you okay?”. She acted all nonchalant and shit. Then she
dropped a bomb on me.
“Yeah, yeah! I’m fine you know? Oh yeah, I’m totally ending this relationship and breaking up
with you”.
I was shocked as fuck, of course. The fuck did I do? I asked her. She started bawling her
eyes out for like, two hours. The covenant was broken. The temple was wrecked despite it
still standing. That wasn’t the only thing standing of course, but who the fuck cares about me
I was literally sitting there with my mouth wide-open. I didn’t want to lose my first girlfriend
over something I didn’t think was that wrong. I was trying to make sure I didn’t lose her.
We didn’t break up that time. She needed a break, though. We didn’t talk for a bit because
she needed time to think and shit, probably to reform that covenant.
We broke up only a couple of months later. The relationship went to shit when she was
granted a scholarship to study in London. She knew it wasn’t going to work out and it
reflected in her behavior in the relationship. She treated me like dog shit, like openly ignoring
me in front of my friends, telling me straight to my face the relationship wasn’t going to work
But I wanted it to work. She was my first girlfriend after all. I even worked out a budget of
only spending a couple of hundred a month and saving the rest of my pathetic army (I was
conscripted then) pay so I could go see her in London.
Why did I continue putting in effort for someone who clearly didn’t want me? Because Julia
was a hypocritical bitch who randomly acted all happy, excited and shit. Yep. Sometimes
she was hot. Sometimes she was cold. For a week, she would be extremely eager to meet
me. The following week, she would randomly decide that I didn’t work hard enough to win
her heart. Then she would ignore me or give me super cold text replies.
So we eventually broke up. It was even before her flight to London. We didn’t make it that
far. Things just got bad and, finally, I was sick of her shit. I cut her loose, even though she
was my first, non-sex relationship.
I hurt for a long while after that, but I eventually picked myself up.
There are just so many fucking lessons with your first. I’m astounded by all the bullshit I had
to go through with just a single person.
I think when you’re young, love isn’t the magical feeling or thing which you learn about as
you grow up. The idea of love, especially when you’re a newbie, is simply the highest form of
emotions you can feel for someone. And you can always go higher. That’s why people are
ready to tell you that there’re other fish in the sea and that you should have fun when you’re
young. Keep pushing higher. Love is a one-time thing in this one-time life. That magical
feeling will come and it’s definitely not accompanied by so much stress and bullshit. Effort
and sacrifice should only come into play to a certain extent. Anything more than that is just
cheating yourself out of a good life. Anything more than that also means you’re chasing a
People are also not what they seem, man. Julia, the super-churchy girl who flipped out after I
rubbed her pussy in totally wrong and non-arousing ways? I found out from her best friend
later on that she was actually seeing her ex behind my back. That explained why she was
playing that hot/cold shit on me. If I remember correctly, her ex rejected her somewhat, too.
Oh and after she went to London? The temple collapsed on its own. Her ultimate form came
out. She started posting pictures of her new, wild life on social media (it was Friendster back
then). There were tons of pictures of her clubbing, hugging random white dudes and even
one of her holding a bottle opener. Because that was so coolz, y’all.
Haha my god, she was lame. But I only kept hurting during and after the relationship. I learnt
that you should never put someone up on a pedestal. That person may be categorized by
society to be “innocent” or whatever according to what they do. That person may be
someone you think you love, but really, you don’t. You got to recognize deep down what you
want in a relationship and what you believe in when it comes to love. Yes, deep down you
know the answer. Your heart knows. Your heart always fucking knows. You just have to
gather the balls, destroy that fear and get out of your comfort zone for that better life you
know is possible. And if that means breaking up with someone you’re comfortable with (most
of us mistake comfort for love), you got to do it. I can’t fucking imagine being with someone
at such a young age and be a virgin until we get married. Oh, by the way, when we said we
would get married, we would have sexy time every Friday only. That was her standard.
Another thing. Listen to your friends. Your friends provide a third-party perspective that can
give you extremely valuable insights. After we broke up and I was all depressed and shit, a
friend said immediately, “Good. This kind of girl? Forget it. She ain’t worth it”. And the thing
is, he only met Julia once. I had a couple more opinions from family and friends who told me
the same thing. They were all right on the money. It’s very easy to justify your own shit and
be like, “Nah , man. I love her. She loves me. Only I know best.” But yo, if you’re hurting? It’s
time to step your shit up and do something drastic for yourself. Your friends can help. They
will always be there for you. They’re the signs you need to listen to outside of your heart.
I ran into Julia like five years later. She said hi and I decided to be civil about things. She
was fat as fuck. She had arms like as if she trained for women’s pro arm-wrestling in the fat
shit category.
I on the other hand, was recently told I look like Leonardo Dicaprio. I won, obviously.
Somebody buy me a beer just because I’m handsome!

People can be horrible creatures. Bizarre too.
Attack of the exes: Part 2
This has got to be the most dramatic, bizarre and confusing relationship I was ever in.
I learnt a shit load from this girl. Sure, I guess I’m totally grateful and stuff but yet, sometimes
I feel like I still hold on to a lot of anger and regret because of this bitch.
Meet Midge. I met her when I was working at a club. She was a model and possessed such
photogenic looks that they landed her jobs in magazine ads and TV commercials. She had
long, luxurious hair, big, beautiful eyes, and smooth, fair skin. Holy shit! Sounds like an
amazing catch, right? Actually, she was much more front page material,than girlfriend
When I first got together with her, I thought I was THE MAN. Me, Alden fucking Tan, dating a
real model. That was the first time I dated a model in my life and I thought I snagged a real
trophy. I got real, “street cred” from it all man…friends were telling me how hot she was and
that I was really lucky. Girls were also very envious of her looks. And yeah, I always felt like I
could show her off, not that I ever objectified her. I was just proud, you know?
But all of that was bullshit. It took me quite a while to realize it was bullshit. I was introduced
to her by a good friend of mine, so I thought, “Oh she can’t be that bad. My friend would
have sense enough to have decent friends. I don’t think she bears any stereotypes”.
I was wrong. Dead wrong. Midge, to me, was the epitome of almost every stereotype you
can think of a model. In other words, she was a bitch.
It was all good at first. We had fun going out and stuff. I was feeling especially awesome for
the fact that I managed to work my “game” really well on her, meaning I thought I handled it
really well in courting her. I balanced out being a nice guy and a bad boy. I impressed her
with the confidence I had in dating her, not giving in all the time, not laughing at her stupid
jokes and openly showing that I was upset when I was actually upset. But I also showed I
was a nice guy with zero asshole-tendencies.
She was actually dating another dude, but I won. She eventually stopped replying him or
picking up his calls. And that guy was some dancer who worked commercial jobs so they
would meet and bump into each other in the industry, so to speak. With me coming out of
nowhere, it was like, “Awww yeah. I’m the fucking underdog, swooping in with ninja-like
skills. I was from the motherfucking shadows! I’m too cool to be known!”.
Then it all turned to shit as the relationship progressed.
I remember our first ever fight. It was over a tiny thing. This happened only a few weeks into
the relationship. She said she wanted a breakup. Apparently, the fight proved to her that a
relationship was not for her. She started crying. She was fucking crying and asking for a
breakup after only being a few weeks together just because I said in an irritated tone to
make her own breakfast. Mind you, I had made a ton of breakfasts for her. I just didn’t like
how it was already becoming a habit that I had to prepare food for her in the morning while
she lazed around.
I remember the first time she slapped me in the face. It was the first of many slaps. That
taught me a ton about retaining my manhood and my own pride as a person.
I remember when she muttered in irritation, “Girls of my league shouldn’t have to deal with
this”. Yep. She felt she belonged to a league above most average people because she was
a model. She told me this when I was trying to tell her that she was my girlfriend then, and
that she should show me basic respect by not gallivanting with other random guys. She felt
she was entitled to do whatever the fuck she wanted. I’m all for freedom in a relationship, but
to think that you’re in a league above others… go fucking figure.
I remember the many times she was abusive towards customer service staff. She always felt
that, as a paying customer, she shouldn’t have to wait for anything. She would literally shout
at the waiters and even managers of a joint. It was so fucking embarrassing.
I remember when she refused to give up her seat for the elderly on the bus.
I remember when she told me she never liked to be hurried. She felt she could take her own
sweet time for everything. Hence, when having dinner with my family, she actually got mad
when my mom told her to speed up a bit as we had to do some shopping.
I remember the time she said she wanted to take up an acting job for some short film shit. I
was like, “Okay sure. Go ahead”. She didn’t tell me that her ex, this other loser model who
thinks he looks Korean, was also involved in the film. They both played a couple in the film
and there was a kissing scene involved. How do I know all of this? Because I saw pictures of
everything on her laptop.
I remember the time she got mad at me at my place over something stupid. She flung her
dinner on the floor. All the rice, meat and shit, gone to waste. I was so mad, of course, that I
left the house. When I got home, she apparently packed all her shit and already went home.
Later on, she texted me saying, “I’m sorry I threw the food on the floor… because now I’m
I remember the entire drama which unfolded when we broke up. A year had passed. I never
thought I would be one of those guys who had to deal with an extremely ugly breakup, but I
did. This was what happened:
Don’t be too surprised now, but technically, the breakup was my fault. I fucked up. It was my
bad. I was texting another girl from college. I was caught. Midge read my messages when I
was asleep. She wanted to break up because I “cheated” on her.
She went ape shit crazy. She was mad as fuck. I don’t mean mad as in angry. She literally
went berserk.
Her first reaction was to post an extremely long message on Facebook. She wrote a detailed
account of the messages I sent to the other girl. It was like fifteen centimetres long on any
given monitor screen. She posted it on my wall and her wall. I was awed that this was her
reaction. I was also awed by the number of enabler friends she had. So many fellow models,
model wannabes and guys who suck up to pretty girls on Facebook kept replying to the
thread. There was shit like, “Omg Babe! I hope you’re alright”, “He’s so not worth it!” and “A
beautiful girl like you deserves better” and other shit.
She continued to haunt me for days by texting and calling me non-stop with the sole purpose
to fuck me up only.
I did say I was sorry, but I guess I didn’t show that I was that sorry.
But it was through her madness that her true colours came out.
In my first “duty” to amend things as it was my “fault”, I was ordered to go to her house to
work things out. She slapped me in front of her parents. That was strike one.
While we were trying to work things out during the fallout, I was catching up with a friend, a
girl I used to date a little, but nothing serious happened. This friend’s dad, at that time,
recently passed away from complications over an illness and his medication. Midge was
mad we were catching up. I distinctly remember her saying, “Oh, both you guys’ dads are
dead? Go ahead and talk then. That’s a common topic”. Strike two.
I couldn’t believe my ears, that I actually dated this person. That and also someone could be
so insensitive.
Eventually, I got sick of her shit. In reply to one of her many, long and abusive texts, I told
her to fuck off and that I didn’t want to have anything to do with people who had no respect
for the dead. What happened next was very real, and scary as fuck. She showed up in my
room in the middle of the night when I was asleep. Ah, fuck me for making her a key to the
house. She started crying and saying how she didn’t mean to be like that. Suddenly, she
grabbed one of my novelty Coke glasses and ran to the restroom. I heard a loud smash. I
ran to the toilet. She was fucking cutting up her wrist. There was blood. I freaked out, of
course. I was grabbing towels, applying pressure and shit. Strike fucking three.
She didn’t die. An ambulance didn’t have to be called. But I was left feeling totally messed up
as the panicky feeling slowly subsided. Only, “What the fuck” was on my mind.
Eventually, we stopped trying to work it out. We ended it off. We were so damaged that it
was for the best.
It’s really funny how things turn out. It’s even funnier how people act in a relationship. You
can learn so much about people and yourself when you’re in one. It’s always good to learn. It
just so happened that I was in a seriously fucked up one with a bizarre person whose morals
were kind of non-existent.
Like it or not, people like Midge exist. There are people out there who fit stereotypes
perfectly and they are proud as fuck about it. They think that by having good looks, working
some swanky job or attending a bunch of exclusive events, they are “up there” and earned
the right to look down on others. That’s bullshit, of course. Midge would always tell me about
how she met this or that rich asshole who popped champagne bottles and drove
Lamborghinis. And that’s exciting stuff to her while I didn’t really give a shit. The best thing
you can do for yourself is to not let these people get to you. Don’t ever think that others are
better than you just because of a bunch of superficial elements. You can easily one up them
(not that you should race to be better than others) by finding passion, having a great
personality, showing compassion and having a great outlook on life.
Superficial shit can only get you so far in life. In fact, most models and other assholes need
the superficial stuff to validate themselves. Why? Because they know, deep down, that they
got nothing else. They’re insecure as fuck. Midge cried over every single fight and always
threatened to break up, which to me was a sign of weakness and that you see a need to
escape, rather than dealing head on with issues. In fact, she was practically begging to get
back together with me after we broke up. She’d call me daily and cry on the phone non-stop.
I was thinking like, “WHAT? Why would you act so angry and shit at me only to cry like a
little girl now?”. It’s bizarre. That’s why you shouldn’t bother judging people based on
superficial shit. Your judgement is swayed thanks to society’s standard of what makes a
man, or a woman, and it can happen subconsciously. I’ve personally learnt that people who
are enjoying all the status and social proof from attending parties, being associated with rich
people, having a nice car, having lots of money and other shit are just normal, average
people who are buried beneath all the bullshit. They’re, in fact, gasping for air. Just because
you don’t see these people at their lowest, their most horrible, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
So don’t be fooled. In fact, just don’t fucking bother wasting your time and energy focusing
on others. Focus on your own shit, be awesome and start inspiring others to be awesome.
And you don’t need money or good looks to do any of that.
Suffice it to say, I learnt a shitload about myself, too. I guess that’s how it is with
relationships. With all the pain, anger and sadness, you grow up, whether you like it or not. I
learnt never to let others talk or beat you down. I don’t know why I took all those slaps in the
face. A slap is horrible. It’s to put down and humiliate someone. My pride was destroyed
every time Midge did that to me. Don’t take shit from people, man. Don’t take shit just
because you think you have to be an idea of say, a supposedly good boyfriend who doesn’t
retaliate. Recognize what you feel deep down. If you’re unhappy as fuck, then that’s the
truth, your truth. Act on that. Leave toxic relationships. They will never do you any good.
Oh and yes, I have slapped her back before. But unlike her and her excuses, I know how to
say this now: It was not right for me to abuse her or any person for that matter. Two wrongs
don’t make a right and it never will. I also used to think that I had to show my anger and
shout loudly to express my dominance as a man, like in a “Don’t fucking mess with me!” kind
of way. I mean, after all the shit she put me through, it was justifiable that I should be pissed,
right? Nah, not really. Expressing too much anger and being physical isn’t cool. It’s ugly. You
don’t look good angry, even if you’re a model. It’s just not nice. Keep calm, deal with your
shit and move on like a mature adult. I’m kind of high on humility right now. That awesome
‘H’ word is what separates the truly good from the assholes.
I’m thinking right now you’re wondering, “Alden, why the fuck did you make a key for her?”.
Because I let her stay with me for most of the relationship. That was dumb. I say, if you
aren’t married yet, then don’t fucking live together. Everybody needs their space. Don’t rush
your relationships into adulthood.
Today, I talk to Midge’s sister a lot. Her family was cool. I liked her brother, sister and
parents. The sis isn’t talking to Midge anymore because she hasn’t changed a damn bit.
Yep. She’s still a model, bitter and selfish. If you follow her Twitter, Instagram or whatever,
she still bitches about me. The latest I heard from her sister was that Midge said I was using
my father’s death to sway readers into reading my blog.
Yep. Some people don’t change. This shit called life eh?
Ahh relationships. As magical as it is to fall in love, it’s also somewhat “magical” the way
things tend to turn out. Like it or not, good relationships don’t come in books. No amount of
theories, books, self-help books or love gurus can help you find them. You just got to get out
there let them find you. That’s how you learn more shit about yourself.
And don’t forget to stop and grab a fucking beer along the way. It helps keep the
perspective, yo!

This is the part I call being stupid: Where I got punched in the eye
This right here must be one of the most classic stories of my life. You may as well call this
chapter, “Stupid shit I’ve done”, but it’s also the one where I grew up overnight. Looking
back, it’s kind of funny… mostly because it consisted of me patronizing discos where their
businesses run solely based on working girls and a bunch of horny guys.
I was one of those horny guys. But hear me out first: I’ve never paid for sex before. I’ll never
fork out money for a prostitute. I mean, why should I? Sex is free for everyone, but not in the
sense you can rape someone, of course. That’s wrong, and vile. I take pride in this. I’m way
too good looking and respectful of myself and others to want to pay for sex. Not even in my
drunkest, mind-fucked stage have I considered wanting to pay like a couple of hundred
bucks for “two shots”, as I was told was the market rate.
Anyway, these discos my friends and I rocked a lot are called Thai Discos. That basically
means these party places have girls from Thailand working in them. They work a variety of
jobs. Some are singers or dancers. The rest are useless and have no talent, so they walk
around to entertain customers and are given the job scope, “Model”.
Sounds kind of legit, eh? Not really. These girls were fucking hot. Gorgeous even. Most of
them are at least. And then they exploit the raging hormones of guys who go there. The
disco earns money as guys pay for Ladies’ drinks, meaning they shell out money for a shot
or two for the girl and she earns a commission. These drinks are shit, of course. The tequila
shots are watered down bullshit while the vodka mixed with orange juice is just pure orange
juice. The second way the club makes money is when a dude pays for “flowers” for the girls.
Yes, I shit you not. Flowers. They basically act as tokens, which are physically represented
in the form of real flowers. They have a range of prices, from ten bucks to a thousand bucks.
Sounds kind of a rip off, eh? Not really. These things sell like hot cakes! That’s because the
girls are hot and the guys are drunk. Put two and two together and you got a business based
on attention alone.
Oh, if you want to buy some sex, well, that’s mostly done under the table. That goes to
“prove” that Thai Discos are not purely whore houses. They’re “legit” businesses based on
guys being entertained by friendly girls who happen to look good. Go fucking figure again.
I was one of those guys. And no, this is not the part I admit was the lowest point of my life or
whatever. I fucking enjoyed my time there and then. I mean, I went with my good friends, so
that checks out good company. There were pretty girls to look at, so that checks out an
atmosphere of attractive counterparts of the opposite sex. The drinks were cheaper than
most other places back then, so that checks out value for dollar.
And it was a major, fucking thrill. That checks out a shitload of fun. You see, my friends and I
weren’t a sleazy bunch of losers who wanted sex. We liked going there, and yes, we liked
some of the “working” girls. It was exciting to go there and try to win their attention. We also
spent minimal on the bullshit tokens. We tried to charm them with our sincere personality
and character. We tried to get to know them as real people.
It sounds really stupid, but that’s just how it was. Hence, when somebody scored, meaning
the girl really liked any one of us for real and not our wallets, we won. We thought that was
awesome. It wasn’t just about sex. Some of us even brought them out for real dates and shit.
And then one night at the club, I got punched in the eye.
It wasn’t a huge fight or anything, and honestly, it’s not something I look back on in anger.
It’s something I’m actually kind of proud of because it’s something I know I handled really
Here’s the story made bite-sized for you:
One night at our table, a friend’s friend joined us.
And he was a douchebag. While the rest of us were trying to sincerely win our girls, he was
drunk as fuck.
He was literally humping one of them.
The girl was obviously freaked out and she came to me. She asked me to protect her and
then she laid on my lap, feigning being passed out from being too drunk.
The dude kept pestering her and attempted to wake her up. After about five minutes, I lost it.
I snapped. I shouted at him to back off.
He punched me.
Everybody pulled us apart. I didn’t even manage to hit back.
Here’s what happened next:
I called the police. The pigs questioned everybody. I was then told it was not an arrest
worthy offence as no bones were broken and no weapons were used. I also called an
ambulance to spice things up. I was brought to the hospital and my friends followed me. I
was charged like ninety bucks for the ambulance ride.
The next day, my friend, the one who was connected with the douchebag helped me out. We
planned a whole way to scare the dude into paying me off. That was the best thing to do as I
knew the law wouldn’t do shit for me. I could sue him, but that would take forever and the
fees alone would kill me. That was why I called the police and ambulance. I wanted to do
things right. My friends and I could have jumped and severely injured him there and then, but
we didn’t. I even had to pull one of my friends off him as he was pissed and wanted revenge.
The police and ambulance worked as “recorded files” for me of that douchebag.
So after a bunch of text exchanges, the douchebag agreed to pay me two thousand dollars.
That was that. It was settled. I was two thousand dollars richer. I did have to nurse a black
eye for a week though.
That was the story of how I got punched in the eye. It’s fucking crazy. Again, I don’t look
back on it in anger. There’re just so many gems of humanity inside that well, life is just
fucking crazy and it amuses me to no end.
I thought this incident was going to haunt me forever, where I would be mad that shit like this
had to happen to me. I mean, I was trying to do the right thing, man. I was trying to protect
someone. I thought I’d be mad that I didn’t get to even punch the guy back in the face. I
thought it’d be extremely hard to let go.
But it was all good.
Sometimes, you just got to see through your anger and find the good in people. I was mildly
surprised that the douchebag wanted to make things right. He was the one who actually took
the initiative to text me. He apologized a lot, despite making up excuses that he was drunk
and stuff. He could have acted like a barbaric douchebag even more, but he didn’t.
I don’t know if he was just scared to be charged formally in court or be sued, but it made me
happy to know that there are people who fuck up who are willing to make things right.
The following exchange was a huge, zen-like milestone for me:
After the two thousand dollars were credited in my account, he texted me saying it reflected
in on his side and asked if I got the money. I said yes. He apologized again, “I’m sorry for
It took me a damn long while, but I replied, “Don’t worry about it. Life goes on”.
And that was that.
I didn’t get to punch back which, in the eyes of most other guys, meant that I “lost” the fight. I
didn’t get to protect my “honor” and heal my bruised ego either. I didn’t get a one-for-one
package, where my wrongdoer “should” have received the same bad shit I went through. My
mom even freaked out a little and got worried that the douchebag was connected to the
mafia. She was afraid they would hunt me down if I pestered him for money or any form of
But it was all good. It’s alright.
Sometimes, a lot of crazy shit goes around in your head. You get pissed, frustrated and sad
that shit happens in your life. You think of the things that should happen simply because
that’s how the world should work, or so you think. In my case, the guy should have been
punched too. But at that time, the adrenaline level was high as fuck. The tension was crazy.
It… just wasn’t funny. I honestly didn’t even want to fight. Shit already went down and adding
more violence wasn’t really at the top of my mind. We all do get mad at people, sometimes
even at our friends. But being mad is, just that, madness. Life isn’t like the movies where
revenge and drama unfold nicely for you. Life isn’t smooth sailing even though your homies,
your “fam” or whoever are there for you either. You should just let it go and do the right thing
for yourself.
Then be thankful. Be bloody thankful that things didn’t get any worse. I didn’t know the
douchebag at all. He could have been a gang member for all I knew and he could have
called down his posse to take all of us on with weapons.
The idea of winning or losing is also up to you. I had friends and family actually tell me,
“What?! He should have paid you ten fucking thousand dollars!” and the typical, “Whoa bro,
if it were me, I’d have floored him!”. One particular friend even told me, “Next time Alden,
don’t bother pitying the girls. They’ve chosen that way of life of working at such a sleazy
place. You aren’t protecting her. If anything, they deserve to be dealing with such guys”. But
I disagree. I knew I was doing the right thing. But I didn’t want to go down the rabbit hole. I
knew if I thought about it anymore than I had to, I’d have gone nuts thinking of the different
possibilities that I should have taken up. God damn, the word “should” should have a chapter
on its own. Your life’s battles are always your own, man. Win them and be happy with your
own results. What everyone else thinks don’t fucking matter.
Oh and yeah, violence is for losers. Use your words. Calm down, then use your words.
When words fail, walk away. Nothing’s worth the trouble.
A couple of days later, I decided to go to the club again. I was hailed as a hero. All the girls
were asking if I was alright. And the girl I was into? She cooked for me. She came to me at
the end of the night and handed me a small pot of some shit.
It was both awesome and bizarre, that a working girl handed me her home-cooked meal at a
smelly, tiny club filled with horny guys. As my friend put it, “You’ve just achieved a level none
of us can ever do”.
I rock. Fucking amused with this life.

Keep your mouth shut when you aren’t spoken to. War in the office
with a paranoid bitch and a random fat fuck.
In 2009 I worked my first ever office job.
I was in college back then and I decided to apply for an internship module in my major which
basically meant I’d spend six months working as an intern. I knew I wanted to do it because I
didn’t want to rush to graduate. I mean, I got my whole life ahead of me anyway so I figured I
should stick around school a little longer.
I was excited as fuck. I thought I was the man, first of all. The companies they gave us to
choose from were pretty lame. They were boring, corporate-ish and mostly really far from my
So I scouted for my own place and I hooked up with a publishing firm which published a
couple of magazines, a tech one and a video games one.
And I love video games. I hit the fucking jackpot! It was going to be an awesome six months
of writing and playing video games.
It would have been, if it weren’t for Mint and Shoe, the paranoid bitch and the random fat
fuck, respectively.
Mint was my supervisor. She didn’t like me, at all. Shoe was… well, he was just the random
fat fuck. I can’t really explain how random he was except how he would randomly appear out
of nowhere with his fats and gossip. Oh, you’ll see how he appears. I don’t have anything
against fat people or even a gossip or two, but this guy just took the cake. And he ate all of it
without sharing.
It started out alright at first. I learnt stuff. Mint taught me how to write for gadgets (I was
officially interning for the gadget magazine while I could help out in the video games one.
That was as official as it got). I went to cover press conferences and shit. I got to know the
other guys in the office. All good.
Then the shit hit the fan when Mint started being unhappy with me. Of course, it’s kind of my
fault, even though I never fucking knew it. Never fucking knew it at all in my entire six
As far as I remember it started when Mint asked me, as in she gave me the choice of going
to cover a press conference with her or not. I said no, because I had a shit ton of work to do
and that I thought I had a choice. I mean, how do you answer outside of honesty when
someone asks, “Do you want to? Or not? It’s up to you”.
The next day it became like, “I’m pretty concerned about your lazy attitude, Alden”.
“What? What did I do?”
“I asked you to go for the conference, but you didn’t want to”.
“Erm… Well I had some work to do, the [so and so assignment] you gave me?”
“Okay. One thing I don’t like is complaints”.
I stood there stunned. Suddenly telling the truth meant I was complaining.
Then Mint went on and on about how I should be happy that I’m not writing about boring shit
like interior design. That was the start of Mint’s paranoia and her totally erratic attitude.
The next day, Shoe was on the phone angrily telling another editor from a competitor’s
magazine that he absolutely did not talk about some model behind her back. That went on
for a bit.
The next mistake I made in Mint’s eyes was when I asked the video games guys if it was
okay to set up a blog account for me so I could write for them. I thought I was showing
initiative because I was told to help them.
That became, “When you said you wanted to write for them, I was like, ‘What the fuck?'”
“Erm… I thought you said I was to help them out”.
“I know you like video games Alden, but you belong to the gadget side!”
The invisible handcuffs were on. The next day, Shoe and Mint argued in front of everybody.
Apparently Mint made a little, totally non-offensive quip about him going out with his mom on
his editor’s profile in the magazine. He was upset she made fun of his mom even though she
really didn’t. I guess you just can’t mess with a single, fat dude’s mom man. You just can’t.
The next incident happened when I was asked by the editor of the videogame side to go to
Los Angeles to cover E3, which was only the biggest and fucking hottest videogames
convention held every year. Yeah that’s right. Me, a mere minion in the company, was
allowed to go all the way to fucking Los Angeles to cover an event. I was stoked. I was
happy and excited as fuck.
The thing is the editor forgot to tell Mint about it. What happened was I had gone to take a
piss and when I got back, they were both arguing. Mint was fucking him up for not telling her
this (plane tickets were already booked and shit). She clearly said, “You’ll have issues with
his writing” out of nowhere. The next minute Shoe came by and was like, “Whoa! Nobody
told me!” like a little bitch crying for attention.
All I could do was sit there and listen to them argue about me in front of me. It was rather
The next incident was when I coughed, to myself. I was seated a little bit behind Mint.
Then this happened, “Alden, can you not cough?”
Me, stunned again, “Erm… I coughed into my hand”.
“No, I can feel it from here on my back!”
I was fucking flabbergasted. Yet, I stopped caring because I felt pretty immune to all the
bullshit, especially since I didn’t know what I ever did wrong.
Okay, so this was what I did wrong: I didn’t shut the fuck up.
The thing is, I got close with a few of the guys in the office. To this day, we are still friends.
That’s how much we hit it off.
And me being the then 23 year-old, fresh intern who didn’t know shit and was eager to learn,
I thought I was safe as I spoke to the guys about the shit Mint put me through. I thought I
was safe as I mostly relayed the messages through instant messaging online. I told them
almost everything.
I felt good being able to let others know about it, of course. And more often than not,
everybody else agreed with me. They were literally like, “Whaatt?! She said that?!”.
And it wasn’t just about work. I mean, outside of work stuff Mint would go on medical leave.
Then, during the day, the others would talk loudly about how they all went for drinks and Mint
was puking everywhere. Go figure.
I always had to go figure. I always had to put to two and two together, like after talking to one
of the guys about something regarding Mint (in a totally non-bitchy way, I might add). I never
felt like I was bitching. I was just telling stuff. Mint ‘s MSN status would suddenly change the
next day to something like, “Politics are for politicians. If you’ve the guts, you’d talk to me”.
Go, fucking, figure.
Shit hit the fan (you would think it already did all along, but this was when the fan only came
to spin in all its glory) when she met my professor in-charge. It was just a formal meeting
talking about me and shit. Then, my professor went ape shit and texted me, “Alden, she’s
considering firing you!”.
Man, I was so pissed. I felt so unfairly treated. I was going to get fired over ambiguous shit,
at best. Good thing my professor was cool. She had told me before she felt Mint couldn’t
supervise for shit, so to deal with this injustice, she told me to suck it up and give in to simply
complete the full internship so I could get my module credits. I fully agreed with the logic
behind that.
But wow, even then, the next day when Mint and I trashed it out (via instant message. God
damn, communication in the office always meant instant messages!), she was just nuts! I
was basically explaining myself, and all I had to do was to be honest. That was easy. Her
answers, as you’ll see in these exchanges, were not easy to swallow:
“It was kind of confusing to know what you wanted because you told me blah blah blah”.
That was me, trying to tell her that her instructions were very contradictory to her actions.
“No. You should have taken the initiative to blah blah blah (pretty much read my god damn
mind) blah blah” so she said.
“What? What did Shoe tell you? I merely asked the PR guy a question during the private
showing of the new iPod (or some shit)”. FUCKING Shoe again!
“No. That was the head of the whatever-the-fuck department of some PR company. You got
to KNOW YOUR PLACE as an intern” so she said, condescendingly.
“Do you want me to leave the company?” If there was one thing I felt I did wrong, it was this.
I pretty much was fed up with her bullshit and asked in a nice way if I should leave. Damn.
Not once should I’ve shown weakness or a sign of wanting to give up.
“No. Alden. What happened to initiative? What happened to showing me you really wanted
this job? What happened to showing excitement?” Holy. Fuck. Suddenly I was the intern
who didn’t do good even though he finished all his work on time. I felt rather insulted.
But I followed my professor’s advice. I just gave in. I wanted to finish the frigging internship.
So that’s the thing about office politics. You seriously need to shut your damn mouth even if
you think it’s safe. It’s a fucking jungle in there, especially if you got fat weirdos like Shoe
inside. Nothing is ever really safe. The walls have ears, or rather, there’s always someone
ready to start the bitch train just for the sake of it.
But it’s not like you can really blame anybody. I confided in the guys when I had lunch with
them every day. I told them, “If you guys talk and laugh about it all to her, she’s just going to
blame me even further for talking behind her back”. They didn’t listen, of course. They
wanted to just have their fun. It was rather ironic since I was always being honest with what I
said. It was also ironic as the guys would try to “help” by talking to her about it, but that only
served to aggravate the “talking behind her back”.
And it’s super ironic that I was lambasted by Mint for “bitching” about her behind her back
when the guys would tell me she was doing the same while I was taking a shit. As I said,
nothing is ever safe in the office. I should have just stayed in the toilet the whole time.
Is this shit just called life? Are we doomed to deal with bullshit left, right and center when we
proceed to go to work? Are we gonna have to take this up nine to five for the rest of our
I think work is just work. Leave the fucking nonsense in the office. As insulting,
condescending, frustrating and mind-numbingly bitchy things can be, let it slide. Only the
insecure need to keep bitching. If I had known earlier, I’d have just kept my mouth shut and
made sure that I was a robot, so I’d have been like, hardened against dumb words.
And you know what? You do your thing. Your job scope is just a description. Job titles are
just words. If you want to fit yourself in the employment line, you’re pretty much thrown in the
matrix of life. And it just so happened I was placed in a very bitchy program. But there’s
always that fine line where you need to decide that you are not your job. Your job does not
define you. It’s too bad most people think this way.
It was that internship which made me realize that deep down, I didn’t want to be a
mainstream writer. The work itself was fun, but I didn’t write from the heart. That got tired
fast. And the people, well, you know how they can be. Writers can be bitchy as fuck.
Get out of the matrix I say. Do something fucking awesome with your innate talent and
passion. Write a book like I am. Create poetry. Play a guitar. Sing. No one can stop or judge
you as long as you do whatever the fuck you want, your way, your style.
So yes, all in all, I’m very thankful for the internship. I mean, I went to friggin Los Angeles! I
met the coolest guys, whose weddings I went to recently. I also got to know a real psychic,
who was the gay designer who sat behind me. He’d read my aura and shit. He’d also tell me
how his “third eye” could see ghosts and stuff and apparently that third eye could “see
through YouTube”. Yes, when I was bored in the office, I’d watch Ghost Hunters and other
reality ghost shows. He told me they were all fake.
And did I mention I made out with the hot sales girl?
Oh yeah, baby. I surely fucking did. Nobody really found out.
There’s always the good shit when the bad comes. There’s always that silver lining. You
don’t really have to look for it. You just be honest, helpful and awesome. It’s just too bad
insecure people will have a problem with that, not that you need to bend over to their level to
deal with them.
I got a B- grade in the end. We had to write weekly journals and shit for the six months and
we had to describe a crisis. Do you have to guess what it was and who were involved?
To this day, Shoe still bitches about me. I ran into him in public once. He said “Hi”, but I
ignored him and ran away. Yeah. I literally ran away.The next day a mutual friend told me
Shoe was unhappy about it and was bitching about me. Sometimes you just can’t shake off
the randoms in life. Or the paranoid bitches. Leave them be with their pretentious wine or
some shitty fruit beer.
You on the other hand, should just chill with your crisp, strong, manly beer!

Falling in love in the most random of places. And people are still
asking me why I’m dating her like it’s an experiment gone wrong.
Well, I guess it’s about time I push my exes out of the limelight and actually talk about shit
that matters now.
My girlfriend. Yeah, I have a girlfriend and I’m totally in love with her. And guess what? She’s
not local. She’s Thai, and she doesn’t live in the same country as me. I only get to see her
once a month.
The way we met, the way we trail blazed this relationship was just crazy, but I guess that’s
why we’re so in love.
Keep in mind a previous chapter about Thai Discos, where Thai girls are stereotyped as
fuck. Keep in mind also when I met my girlfriend for the first time, I was in my all-out
singlehood mode where I just wanted to keep partying and meeting hot girls until I died.
And I was doing that. A lot. I met Apple in a club in Bangkok a couple of years ago. I was
there with a bunch of friends to party it out and have fun like how a bunch of young,
handsome and active 26 year-olds would.
So we were in a club, a pretty sleazy one at that. I was already kind of drunk from the
whiskey we ordered. I don’t like getting drunk, but it was Bangkok, baby! Bangkok is the
carnival of South East Asia. It’s that fun. And girls are easy to approach. They’re super
friendly and not bitchy at all. Really, go ahead and talk to any one of them. Even if they
aren’t receptive towards your hitting on them, they’d be nice and friendly about it. It’s a far
cry from the girls you meet in Singapore, where they would stare you down as if you were
uglier and dirtier than a hobbit.
Since I was pretty buzzed and happy, I just talked to the girl beside me. It was Apple. We
chatted. We hit it off. I did my whole, “Hey I’m a Bboy” and took-out-my-phone-and-showedvideos-of-my-dance-moves
deal. It’s the 21st century, baby. Show your dance moves with
technology. Show your real moves only in bed.
It may sound like a typical, pickup scenario, but what made it all the more exciting was that
my friends disappeared suddenly. They wanted to go eat and head back to the hotel. I was
like, “Nah! I’m staying!”. And there I was, alone in a foreign land with a girl I just met.
And that made me excited as fuck!
Then I sent Apple back to her apartment which, to me, looked like it was at the darker side of
the foreign land. In the cab, I was like thinking, “Oh shit, oh shit, how am I going to get back
to the hotel.” I was really prepared to get lost and sleep on the streets of Bangkok. I
wondered if I was going to get mugged and die.
When we reached her place, surprisingly, she asked me if I wanted to go up. My mouth was
like,” Oh, okay, sure.” My mind was like, “Fuck yeah!!!!”.
It was kind of awkward in her room at first. Apple was showering and stuff. I was just sitting
down on her bed. All I could think of was, “I’m here alone in some girl’s apartment. I barely
know her. All my friends are… I don’t know where the fuck they are… What’s going to happen
I was really happy and excited, if you couldn’t tell by now.
What happened next? We didn’t have sex. Nope. Not at all. I know you’re assuming that, but
sorry to disappoint. We didn’t. This is important. I was also staying in Bangkok for like four
more days and she spent every, single day with me. She took me around, to obscure
Bangkok places I’ve never been to before. It was one of the best times of my life.
When I had to fly back home to Singapore, I was pretty sad. I wondered how and when I
would get to see Apple again. This whole event took place in February that year and we did
not get into a relationship before we parted.
Things kind of turned to shit from there on. All forms of following up and communication were
bad. Her messages were short and dubious. I missed some of her calls because I was
asleep and when I called back, she was either busy or didn’t pick up at all. On her Facebook
wall, there were random, fucking losers writing shit on her wall. There was even some
Singaporean dude who was writing random Thai slang in an attempt to be cute with her. He
looked retarded. And she kept “liking” whatever these dudes posted on her wall.
Yeah, I was jealous. I really liked her. I didn’t know what to say or think. Was she playing
me? Did nothing mean anything to her? Why aren’t we talking much? And how do I go about
this? Do I really want to get into a relationship?
Then one day, she deleted me off Facebook. Just like that, she was gone. That was in
I was sad, but I decided to fuck it and not let it bother me. I did keep wondering what was up
with her though. Then in June, she added me back. We chatted a little, but it just wasn’t the
Then we got together in July. Long story short, I went to Bangkok with some friends. I
decided to meet Apple again, for the fun of it. All the feelings of February came back. We
were happy. I was happy and excited as fuck again. And we decided to take the leap and
get together.
Funny story eh? Looking at it, it’s easy to think the romance was weird, ambiguous at best. It
was epic, but it was controversial-epic. It can read like a fairytale, but unlike reading, it
doesn’t feel super awesome all the time. I personally think that love shouldn’t be so hard, as
in you shouldn’t have to bust your balls and be totally stressed out just because of
somebody else. That’s why I don’t respect guys who put in so much effort for some girl and
then take forever just to get together.
Yet, somehow, in love, you just got to have faith and do what your heart wants.
Even after me and Apple got together, it was challenging.
I had a lot of people laughing at me.
People doubted the plausibility of a long distance relationship, “What? Come on, man. Long
distance never works.”
People doubted me as a boyfriend, “YOU? Come on, Alden. You’re just going to get sick of
her because you’re going to fall for other girls”.
One time, a friend’s girlfriend said, blatantly, to my face, “I give you three months”.
And the Stupidest Question Award, which perfectly encapsulates doubt in relationships, love
and unfortunately, racism is, “Why are you dating a Thai girl?”.
I get this all the time, especially from girls. They ask it in such earnestness that it blows my
mind that people can be this ignorant and racist at the same time. I was even woken up with
a, “Omg Alden! You’re dating a 555!” text at like four in the morning once.
Oh, “555” is a blunt reference to Thai girls. The number “5” is pronounced as “Ha” in Thai,
so they like to type “555” to show that they’re laughing. Type, mind you, not say. Whoever
literally laughs by saying “five-five-five!!!” deserves to be shot.
So yeah, my epic love story was constantly shot down by others. But it’s too bad. I can never
find a fuck to give.
I think in love, you need to take a couple of leaps of faith. You got to follow your heart and do
what you really want to do. You absolutely need to stop questioning the nature of things and
silently listen to your heart. I could have kept asking Apple shit like, “Oh what happened to
those losers on your Facebook wall? Did you date them?” or even, “When I’m Singapore
and you send me a picture of you and your friends, are you really there with your friends or
are you sending me backdated shit to appease me?”.
It can go on and on. But nah. You need to stop questioning. Once you go down that rabbit
hole, more and more questions will keep coming up. It’s fucking endless. I personally believe
that ignorance is part of trust, period. You can never be by your partner’s side 24/7. If you
see a need to be with him or her all the time, it’s time to look in the mirror yo. It’s time to let
loose those insecurities.
As a good friend put it straight to me once, “She’s overseas? That’s totally fine. It’s normal.
Even if she’s here in Singapore with you, she can still have a lunchtime quickie at her
Well said if you ask me. Stop questioning. It’d just be torturous. If your partner wants to fuck
it up and cheat on you, it will happen. You can’t stop the douchebag in a dude, nor can you
stop the slut in a girl. You probably can’t stop the whatever that is lurking in you even.
The second leap of faith is to simply stop listening to what others have to say. You need to
give zero fucks to the naysayers; the critics and the unhappy. Why? Because that’s all they
do, which is to bring others down. Your heart knows best. It always does. Everybody
deserves love, and it’s stupid to deprive yourself of that just because of others’ points of
view. Ignore even your mom’s opinion.
Apple and I are now going 20 months. She has met my mom and my entire extended family.
We’ve been seeing each other once a month only the whole time, and I fucking love the
arrangement because I love my space. Sure, I miss her. I cry almost every time we part
ways at the airport. But we’ve grown and matured during the course of the relationship. We
know it’s going to be all good.
We plan to get married.
Life is short, man. Enjoy it. You don’t got to find love. Just do what you love, believe in
yourself and the one will come. Maybe he or she won’t come in a nicely, wrapped package,
but as long as you silence your mind and do what your heart wants, it’s going to be all good.
Oh and you know what helped me cleanse some of my doubts? My sleazy, Thai-loving
friends, the ones who frequent Thai discos. Though they spend a lot of time and money on
alcohol and Thai girls, they understand. They understand what I love and had to go through.
Ironically so, they have zero stereotypes towards Thai people. Why would they have any?
I was amused. Love and support came from the most unlikely people and places. This shit
called life rocks! Drink up bitches!

Where a supposed conference on business calls Earth “Spaceship
Earth”. I thought I was at a cult meeting.
Okay. This is where I go a little nuts. This is where I need to tell all “gurus”, self-helpers, life
coaches or whatever to shut the fuck up with their bullshit for a second.
A few years ago, back in 2011 I was sponsored by my boss to go for a “world renowned”
conference. Let’s just call it Intense Fest 101.
It sounded like a typical, motivational conference on entrepreneurship and shit. But it was far
from it… far, far, from it. To this day, I’ve mixed feelings towards the conference.
It started out all fine and dandy. We had the motivational speaker. She had charisma. She
gave us an overview of what was to come, saying there wouldn’t be any “dorky, training
games”. I thought that was cool.
And then all the sad, NLP (neural linguistic programming) and whatever that tugged at your
heartstrings in any MAJOR possible way came out. I was blown away in a weird way.
At one point the lights in the entire hall were dimmed. Soothing, nature music started playing
in the background. Everyone was instructed to close their eyes. Then the speaker started
narrating a bunch of stuff that was meant to arouse your emotions and shit.
“Look back in your life”
“Are you angry?”
“What are you sad about?”
“Think of your deepest, darkest fears.”
And other shit.
A lot of people, and I do mean a lot of people, started crying even before it was over. I kept
hearing a bunch of sobs and sniffles.
I was like, “Meh… anyone vulnerable in this environment would definitely be affected”. I was
stone cold, I guess.
After it was over, people were given the chance to speak. This lady beside me stood up,
grabbed the mic and started saying how pissed she was with her husband. Her husband
died of cancer. She was pissed at him for dying and she had been living with her anger all
this while.
The speaker asked if she’d like to scream. And that she did.
She screamed fucking loud. I was like, “HOLY SHIT!”. I woke up. I looked at her and she
was bawling her eyes out. Good for her.
Another dude was asked to go on stage. He told his story about how he missed his late
grandfather. And his favourite place was the beach.
The speaker asked him, “Okay. Imagine you’re on a beach. You can hear the waves hitting
the shore and sea gulls are flapping their wings. Then your grandfather comes walking up to
you form the horizon. If you have only five minutes with him, what would you say?”.
I was like, “Oh, COME ON!”
Apparently the dude replied, “What should we eat?”, because they loved eating and stuff.
At one point, a 40 plus year-old dude went on stage and cried. He was raped by another
dude when he was young. Whoa.
At another point, a young adult lady went on stage and, yes, she cried. She was sexually
assaulted not once, but twice in her life. After her confession she was given a standing
On the last night, we all had to play a game. Each group had to take part in it. What
happened was that we were given a bunch of building blocks, the kind little kids played with.
Then we were given a bunch of scenarios to act out with the blocks. We were tested by past
graduates of the conference on how well we acted, or so we thought.
It was annoying as fuck. We kept acting out a bunch of lame scenarios like, “Trust”. So we
did a Trust Fall holding the blocks. We tried many times because the testers kept failing us.
After the game was over, we were told that the blocks were actually… wait for it, “blocks” in
Apart from these extreme revelations, nothing else was really memorable about the
conference. We had a bunch of group training games which turned out to be kind of dorky
after all, what with imaginary money and all that shit.
We were all instructed afterwards to keep in touch with our designated teams via a
Facebook Group. People were posting all sorts of shit inside, telling us of their exploits and
evolutionary growth in life. That, too, was overwhelming. People were literally writing shit
like, “I got to thank life and be happy blah blah blah”.
That was when the term “Spaceship Earth” came about. Apparently, it was the birthday of
some renowned speaker the conference looked up to, a lot. Call it worship if you want even.
And then the moderator of the group wished him happy birthday and then started thanking
the life she had on Spaceship Earth.
Holy shit. Cult much?
Like I said, I’ve had mixed feelings about the conference.
I guess it’s good for people to express themselves, like finally. Those victims needed some
serious help. I did wonder what took them so long to finally let it out.
But yet, I don’t think all the extreme, environmental adjustments are necessary. You might
as well go to a church (Oh!) then.
The only environmental adjustment you need in life is to simply make sure you’re
surrounded by positive people all the time. Stick with your good friends and stop hanging out
with assholes. That includes your shitty boss or your mildly annoying friend. Fuck them.
Dump the toxic relationships and move on. Hang out with people who can inspire and lift you
up no matter what. That’s how you fucking grow like a champ, into a champ.
Otherwise, you’re going to be repressed your entire fucking life. And then you got to spend
thousands on a conference for some soothing music to finally let it out. But hey, it’s your life.
Go ahead.
What happened next was my boss going ape shit crazy on me about what I supposedly
learnt at the conference. One thing they taught was “synergy”. Yeah. You needed synergy at
the workplace. You needed to synergize with everything and everyone in the office for
Somehow, that meant I had to blindly follow whatever orders I was given. I had to wilfully
take part in whatever activities. I had to give my all in any ventures despite my doubts, fears
and confusions. Seriously, I was told straight in the face to have “synergy” and to “embrace
the truth”.
THE truth? You’ve got to be kidding me. When you subscribe to a fucking truth that’s not
your own, doesn’t that effectively mean you’re not living your life on your own? Doesn’t that
mean you believe in something else other than your heart, thus eliminating the importance of
your life’s experiences and memories? Doesn’t that mean you’re into religion?!
Fuck THE truth. There’s only one truth and that’s your own truth. Your life’s experience and
memories are always real, because you’ve lived them. They will always be there and can
never be taken away from you. Don’t be swayed by conferences, soothing music, jarring
headlines, what others say and most of all, others’ truths. They live their own fucking life.
You live your own.
So stop with the synergy, the spaceships, the paradigm-shifting, the groundbreaking and the
world-class whatever. You could just get off your lazy ass, stop being a pussy shit and start
making shit happen in your life.
Oh, by the way, did the conference reinforce what I believed in life? It sure did. Like that
silver lining,it came with good intentions after all. But yeah, like I said, you can waste
thousands of dollars on it to be told what you already know deep down (I know you fucking
Life can be simple. Life is simple. Just fuck it all, have a beer and be happy, bitch.

Shit you see in a club. A married guy turns out to be gay.
For the earlier part of my young adult life, I was working at a local club. I spent like five years
there working part-time. It was one of the most popular clubs in South East Asia and it made
me feel like the shit. But pretty soon, it made me feel like shit.
It was a great at first. I was only 22 when I was employed as a “Front Office Executive” at
the club. That sounds like a cool name, but basically I was just a door host. That means to
say, I welcomed people at the door and made sure VIPs had smooth entry. It was also my
job to look good, and I looked really fucking hot. I got to wear a suit. I was really hot in it.
I was attending college back then so pretty soon I was known as that dude “who worked at
the club”. I was enjoying and loving all the attention. I didn’t have to party and club like some
normal dude. I was up a level. I was working in a club! My drinks were free. To this day, I
don’t have to queue up to go inside because I know the other Front Office guys there. There
were a ton of hot girls at the club and it was really easy to strike up a conversation. I worked
thrice a week. That was three days of awesomeness every week.
People were also very eager to become my friend. I had the privilege of signing in guests,
meaning I could get my friends in for free. It felt pretty good that I had the power of giving out
such favours. I felt like a super important person. I was making so many friends, that, dare I
say… I was becoming popular and I knew it. Friends were magically coming out of nowhere!
But all that shit and glamour died down really fast. After about four months, I was absolutely
sick of everything.
I was tired. My life was overwhelmed with fatigue. I got home from work at about 5AM each
night. Sometimes, I couldn’t even sleep by then. The worst period was a time when I was
sleeping at 10AM every morning. My off days practically started at 7PM and I couldn’t do
I was getting jaded from all the attention. I felt used by friends. The privilege of giving out
favours turned out to be a double-edged sword. Friends wanted to know me because they
just wanted a free entry, some of whom asked me in a very curt manner. Once, a girl called
me up to ask if I was working. I said no, and she said, “Ah fuck”, and hung up on me. I was
taken aback by how rude people could be. Another time in college, I was having lunch with a
friend. A friend of his walked by, a girl whom I signed in the night before. He introduced her
to me and said nicely, “This is Alden. He got you in last night”. She was like, “Oh. Hi”. She
looked away, said some shit to my friend and walked off.
I was also getting very angry. I had to deal with a lot of fucked up customers. Seriously, if
you want to see the bad side of people, just work in a club. People don’t even have to be
drunk to become assholes. It’s a funny aspect of social dynamics which is heavily played out
in a club. People basically want to look good, so they spend a lot in booking a table with
copious amounts of alcohol. Since they spend, they expect the best of service and think that
they can get away with being an asshole. I took a lot of that shit in. I was literally pushed by
people, scolded in the face, given the finger and other stuff. Pretty soon, I found myself
being pissed off a lot.
In those five years, I quit twice before I left for the third time permanently. Yeah. Despite
everything, I kept going back because I needed the money.
There’s a fuckload you can learn about life and human behaviour in a club. I’ll always
treasure the memories and take pride in the fact that I got the chance to see people for who
they can really be. An older friend once said I grew up too fast. He was right.
For starters, there’s a lot of infidelity going around in a club. Guys are cheating on their
girlfriends, and girls are at the club without their boyfriends’ knowing. And honestly, this isn’t
as straight forward as it sounds. It isn’t a case of a drunken night taken too far either.
Stereotypically, you might think that a “douchebag” of a guy or a “slut” of a girl would only
cheat. But nah, all kinds cheat. I’ve seen the most seemingly innocent of people cheat on
their partners. That’s more disgusting if you ask me. At least the douchebags and sluts are
honest about it.
I’ve met guys and girls alike in long-lasting relationships getting drunk off their asses. The
excuses always mount up.
Guy is busy drinking and flirting with some girl: “Oh nah, man. We’re just talking!”. Pretty
soon, that shit would turn into incessant texting, dating and eventually sex.
Girl is busy dancing and grinding up some guy on the dance floor: “Oh, it’s only dancing. We
are not even touching lips”. Pretty soon, that shit turns into making out and they’d be going
home together.
I know. Because I’ve been there. I’ve been cheated on and I’ve cheated before. Alcohol is
never an excuse, but shit can happen. It’s best to come clean, try to make amends and
move forward in life.
I once made out with a girl heavily in a club. We just met that night. Her fiancé picked her up
later. We remained friends, which was cool. She complained to me once that she caught her
boyfriend texting some other girl and she was devastated. Whaaaaat??
They say that alcohol is “liquid courage”, where your inhibitions are released and you gain
the balls to do whatever the fuck you want. It’s kind of true, except that I think it doesn’t
equate to you behaving well. One ought to gain balls in life in the first place and do what they
want before they fuck it up with alcohol.
Now this is just some young, boy-girl relationship bullshit. A higher magnitude of things
comes in marriages. Yep. While working inside at the VIP area, I’d meet married people,
guys and girls alike.
A friendly guy once came to me and was like, “Oh man! I’m so screwed. My wife is here”.
“Why is that bad?” I asked.
“My mistress also showed up”.
Right. The funny thing, he was one of the nicer customers. He had his “please”s and “thank
you”s in order and was not a rowdy asshole. I’d have gladly laughed and talked with him
more than deal with some idiotic kid who was scandalous but rude as shit.
Another older guy I knew inside was married with kids. He’s a rich dude who’s pretty much
made it in life. He was gay by the time I met him. I even met his son on his 18th birthday; his
virgin, coming-of-age night where he could legally drink alcohol. I had no fucking clue what
to talk to him about. What was I supposed to say? “Hey, did you know your dad makes out
with dudes?!?!?! Dude!”
I’ve no idea if his wife knows. I don’t even care to know. But it goes to show what you can
amount to if you spend your whole life listening to others as you grow up. No amount of
“making it” with money, a thriving business, an extravagant lifestyle of partying and alcohol
and even a loving family can beat what you really want deep down.
And yet, with all its hostility and collusion of erratic human behaviour, partying and clubbing
can really teach you to keep an open mind. I like to think that I’ve managed to become a less
judgmental person altogether, if not somewhat less of a cynic. It teaches you to look deeper
and not take things at face value.
A rich kid who treats his friends to drinks all the time? He’s not rich. His dad is.
An arrogant VIP who spends wildly at the club? Talk to him. You will find a goldmine of
virtues and stories of how he rose up and made a man of himself.
As for me, well, I’m not an asshole. I partied hard even after quitting, and my close friends
know me for the guy who knew and dated a lot of girls, but was extremely honest with them.
I never once deceived a girl for sex. Also, when I’m drunk, I don’t create trouble by getting
into fights and stuff (except that one time with Jon!)
As with life, you should always look deeper and try to spin the positive yarn out of
A friend once told me, “Of course partying is fun, but it’s the easiest way to have fun”. It’s so
fucking true. With that, partying gets old. Really fast. I was given a crash course in partying
since I started working in the nightlife scene. Was it worth it? Sure, why not? Then again, I
try not to think about it. It was just a job and a demanding one, at that. I left it behind, but I
know of people who are just addicted and stuck in the scene.
In this case, they shouldn’t get a beer. They should get the fuck out.

It ends now. You fucking ready?
We’ve come to the final chapter of the book; the brim of the bottle of your beer.
Truth be told, I wasn’t very sure how to end this book. I am kind of out of stories, sort of.
Then I remembered, this book was written to not just entertain, but to also help people. So if
there was one chapter that would have a bunch of lessons to spur you on and shit, it would
be this.
So are you ready?! Are you ready for some motherfucking motivation in totally realistic
First of all, if you want to get something done, then just get off your ass and do it.
Procrastination is a problem mostly because you heard others talking about how it’s a
problem. You’re wasting your damn time reading up on how to get rid of procrastination
when all you have to do is to get off your ass and do it.
You need to bloody aim for that feeling of satisfaction of getting real work done. Why? So
you can enjoy the rest of the day! Life is too short to feel shitty, but life is also too short to
feel half-assed, where you put off work to be a lazy bum. You can’t enjoy that shit because
you’re thinking of work. You know you are. Way too many people are thinking about work
when work is only meant to be worked.
Now, what’s that? You can’t get over your ex? Man! Can you beat the epic bitches who
happened to invade my life? I know, I know. You’re in pain, but you can’t dwell on that shit
forever. Life is too short to let a single, other person decide your happiness.
Breakups hurt, but you’ll be fine!
Are you sick and tired of your job? Does your boss reek of incompetence and also armpit
sweat? Then quit your fucking job. You’re not your job. Get out of the matrix. You decide
what you life is, not according to what a “jobscope” or a payslip say. Life is too short to work
every day in your life. No one fucking ever says they wish they spent more time at work on
their deathbed. No one’s famous last words is about how fat their bank account is.
You know what I personally abhor? People out there who claim to be a “life coach” just
because they think they have the expertise in some bullshit and then dare to charge you an
exorbitant amount of money for their time. I hate stumbling upon a blog and see an annoying
15-minutes video of some trash they claim will change your life or help you find your
Purpose is passion. That’s all. Simple as that. If you want purpose, then go find passion.
How do you find passion?! Just ask yourself what you’re good at and what you’re interested.
Then go do all sorts of shit until your heart and mind clicks. It’s that easy! Life is too short to
not have passion.
Hold on a sec.. do you know how fucking lucky you already are in life?! That’s right, you,
who managed to read this book because you bought it from Amazon with your credit card
over the internet. Do you know how many people in North Korea have access to the
internet?! Less than a thousand. I’m not lying.
Here’s what I call the 24-Hours No Excuse Rule:
You’ve 24 hours in a day. You can sleep for 8 hours. You have 16 left. Get your ass to work,
your eight to five; your nine to six. After that, you’ve 7 hours left. What’s that? Commute? Let
me take 2 hours away then. You now have 5 hours. Bitch! I’m not brutal. Go take a nap for 2,
no, 3 hours. You now have 2 hours.
You’ve 2 amazing hours every fucking day to work on your dream and do what you love!
And this shit builds up. Don’t you dare tell me you’re tired because you just had a nap for
three hours!
What? Insomnia? The queue at Subway was unusually long? Oh weh weh weh (crying baby
sound). Whatever. Just, whatever ok? No excuses. Solve your shit and go make shit
happen. Life is too short to waste your time.
You know something that’s weird in this shit called life? The cheesy sells. The cliché and
unbridled positivity in the self-help and personal development world sell like hot shit. You’ve
your subliminal messaging, your hypnosis, your EFT-Tapping, your meditation, your biaural
(Google it) beats and other “instant” solution crap. They all sell because people want the
magic button.
I say… good for fucking them. Shut up and drink your potion then.
You know what I think? I think nothing beats taking action. Yes I know “taking action” is
super cliché, but just hear me out. I say, take action to create a life you can call your own. At
the end of the fucking day, you need real life experience and memories to create your own
life. You need experience to learn and grow. And you should hold on to your experience no
matter what, because they’re true. Don’t let anybody else try to steal them from you as they
feed you their bullshit. Don’t even let God do so. If you’re letting others take it away, you’re
essentially lying to yourself.
Life is too short, but you probably won’t realize that unless something catastrophic happens
to you. My dad died. That’s why I know. But trust me, you don’t need to go through the same
shit I did.
Just live life and let life happen for you. Your only job is to only have some fun and be happy.
Now, I’ve already handed you the best fucking beer in the world. It’s time for the second best
a.k.a. the next beer because having only one beer is never enough.
Cheers boys and girls. Drink up and be happy.
You made it to the end of the book! I can’t tell you how happy I am for you.
No seriously. In case you didn’t get it, this book is just about me writing a book. It’s me living
a dream and standing up for myself against the shitty world of entrepreneurs and well…
pretty much all the ugly stuff out there.
I hope you enjoyed my journey. I had a lot of fun writing it and I really hope it helped you in
any way.
You can check out more non-bullshitty articles by Alden himself at his blog
He answers all of his emails too, so hit him up if you want to
If you enjoyed the book, then what’re you waiting for? Leave a solid review on Amazon!

Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
Introduction aux Protocoles de
communication :
Le bus CAN
(control Area Network)
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
Contenu :
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
II. La notion de bus de communication
III. Le bus CAN
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Le multiplexage automobile
• Pourquoi le multiplexage ?
• Les principes du multiplexage
• Le protocole CAN
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Pourquoi le multiplexage ?
• L’électronique automobile est en évolution constante :
• Exigences de plus en plus sévères en matière de pollution
• Améliorations en matière de sécurité et de confort
• Évolution en cours de vie du véhicule (options)
• D’où une croissance constante, ces 5 dernières années, des
fonctions électroniques :
• Direction à assistance variable, BVA, suspension pilotée, gestion moteur
• Airbag, anti-démarrage, clim. régulée, détection du sous-gonflage des
roues, aide au stationnement
• Allumage automatique des feux de croisement, essuie-vitre automatique,
correction de site des feux (lampes au Xénon)
• Allumage automatique des feux de détresse en cas de forte décélération
ou de choc
• Régulation de vitesse avec radar anti-collision, navigation par satellite
• Et à venir : direction et freins entièrement électrique, guidage du véhicule
par rapport aux « bandes blanches », …
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Pourquoi le multiplexage ?
• Ce renforcement de l’électronique se traduit par :
• Une – du nombre de calculateurs
• Une – du nombre de capteurs
• Une – des faisceaux de câbles électriques : encombrements, poids
et coûts
1960 1985 1995
1960 1985 1995
1960 1985 1995
1960 1985 1995
METRES (longueur de cablage)
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Pourquoi le multiplexage ? : exemple : câblage classique
Certains capteurs ont des liaisons avec plusieurs calculateurs ou existent en 2
exemplaires en raison de leur localisation. Les liaisons entre boîtiers sont de + en
+ nombreuses
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Pourquoi le multiplexage ? Exemple : câblage classique
¸ Deux réponses techniques pour limiter « l’inflation » des composants
et du volume des câblages :
ÿ L’intégration : regrouper plusieurs fonctions dans un seul boîtier (ex :
gestion moteur et Boîtier de Servitude Intelligent (BSI)
• Gestion moteur : injection, allumage, dépollution, refroidissement moteur
• BSI : fermeture centralisée des portes, alarme, éclairage intérieur, antidémarrage,
essuyage des vitres, gestion des clignotants, …
• ESP (contrôle dynamique du véhicule) : ABS, REF, MSR, ASR, ESP
ÿ Le multiplexage : faire circuler une multitude d’informations entre
divers calculateurs sur un seul canal de transmission appelé le bus (2
fils): le bus CAN
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Exemple : câblage avec multiplexage
Diminution du nombre de capteurs et de liaisons entre boîtiers car
chacun fournit aux autres, par l’intermédiaire du bus, les infos qu’il
reçoit en filaire : c’est le partage des informations
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Exemple : Mise en place du multiplexage sur un système de refroidissement
Sondes de
d’eau moteur
de refroidissement
injection moteur
Boîtier de
Système classique
sans multiplexage
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Exemple : Mise en place du multiplexage sur un système de refroidissement
Système avec
introduction du
Sonde de
d’eau moteur
Boîtier de
Calculateur de
réseau CAN
réseau VAN
Fils torsadés
Fils torsadés
U de 0.3 à 4.5v
Fils non
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Les avantages du multiplexage
ÿ Moins de capteurs et/ou de nombres de liaisons avec les boîtiers
ÿ Le poids et les coûts diminuent
ÿ Enrichissement de fonctions sans surcoût important :
• Faire allumer les feux de croisement lorsque le capteur de pluie
détecte une averse (évolution d’un logiciel)
• Mise en action des feux de détresse lors d’une forte décélération
ÿ Les méthodes répondent à une norme ISO donc fiabilité accrues
ÿ Les constructeurs « protègent » leur réseau de APV car la plupart
des interventions sur les systèmes multiplexés nécessitent
l’utilisation d’outils de diagnostic particuliers :
• Méthodes de recherche de pannes complexes + télé-assistance
• Téléchargement de mise à jour
• Apprentissage lors d’une installation ou d’un changement de composants
multiplexés (ex : autoradio) : c’est le télé-codage
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Les principes du multiplexage
• Adaptation des boîtiers
• Le réseau multiplexé
• La transmission des données
• Structure d’une trame
• La synchronisation des horloges des boîtiers
• Arbitrage : gestion des priorités
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Les principes du multiplexage
Boîtier Multiplexé
Étage de
sortie capteurs Actionneurs Étage
Unité de traitement
Interface de
Partie numérique
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Les principes du multiplexage
¸ L’étage d’entrée du boîtier :
ÿ Il transforme (il code) les signaux analogiques des capteurs en signaux
numériques exploitables par le microprocesseur (ex : signal délivré par la
thermistance d’eau)
¸ L’étage de sortie du boîtier : (appelé étage de puissance)
ÿ Il transforme les ordres, fournis par le microprocesseur sous forme de
signaux numériques, en signaux analogiques destinés aux actionneurs
¸ L’étage de calcul : le microprocesseur (la puce)
ÿ C’est le composant « intelligent » du boîtier
ÿ Il possède des mémoires qui peuvent être :
• ROM : mémoire morte qu’on ne peut que lire
• RAM : mémoire qui disparaît dès que l’alimentation est coupée
• EEPROM : mémoire morte pouvant être reprogrammées (de + en +
ÿ La ROM ou l’EEPROM contiennent le ou les programmes à réaliser de la forme
: SI ……, ALORS ……
ÿ Les signaux traités le sont en général par groupes de 8 bits (ou plus) :
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Les principes du multiplexage : l’interface
¸ L’interface de multiplexage :
ÿ Elle permet la communication entre le boîtier et le bus
ÿ Les messages qui transitent par l’interface de multiplexage sont
numériques et portent le nom de trames
ÿ Ces trames sont découpées en plusieurs champs
ÿ Chacun des champs est composé d’un nombre bien précis de bits
à l’état 1 ou à l’état 0
Début Identificateur Com. Informations Contrôle Ack Fin
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Les principes du multiplexage : le réseau
¸ Le réseau est l’ensemble des boîtiers qui communiquent entre eux
¸ Réseau : une architecture + un protocole (VAN, CAN, LIN …)
ÿ Architecture :
• En étoile (VAN)
• En râteau (VAN)
• En série (CAN)
ÿ Protocole :
• maître/esclaves
• multi-maîtres/esclaves
• multi-maîtres
C’est la disposition matérielle
des nœuds (boîtiers)
C’est la gestion de la
communication entre les boîtiers
(arbitrage, trame, horloge, débit)
Maître : peut prendre l’initiative d’une
communication sur le réseau
Esclave : peut seulement répondre à
un maître
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Les principes du multiplexage : le réseau
Maître / Esclaves
Siège Platine de
Siège Platine de porte
B.S.I. AFFICHEUR Climatisation
Radio AFFICHEUR Lecteur CD
¸ L’architecture du réseau est adaptée, suivant les besoins en vitesse d’échanges
d’informations (ex : info passage rapport BVA au boîtier moteur (250 kbits/s) et
commande essuie glace arrière (62.5 kbits /s)).
¸ Quelques particularités :
• La vitesse maxi de communication est inversement proportionnelle à la
distance entre 2 participants
• Plus il y a de participants sur le réseau, plus la vitesse de communication
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
I. Introduction : Notion de multiplexage
Les principes du multiplexage : le réseau (le protocole)
¸ Le protocole : c’est la « langue » utilisée pour communiquer
ÿ C’est tout ce qui concerne l’acheminement des trames
ÿ Les trames sont distribuées sur le bus
ÿ Les « récepteurs » consultent l’identité de la trame (champ d’identification de
la trame) et seuls ceux qui sont concernés par la trame, utilisent ses
ÿ Les échanges de trame, donc de bits, doivent se faire à un rythme bien
précis. Pour ce faire chacun des boîtiers possèdent une horloge interne
ÿ Les boîtiers récepteurs doivent caler leur horloge sur celle de l’émetteur
ÿ Il se peut que 2 boîtiers veuillent émettre une trame en même temps sur le
bus ; une trame est forcément prioritaire sur l’autre, c’est l’arbitrage.
ÿ Seule la trame prioritaire est émise mais la 2ème n’est pas détruite, elle
sera ré-émise dès que le bus sera libre : arbitrage non destructif
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
le bus : exemple chez PSA
(bus confort)
(bus carrosserie)
II. Notion de bus de communication
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
(x tops par tour)
0100 1111 0101 0011
1010 1100 0100 1010
Codage de la vitesse
Couronne Moteur
(60 dents – 2)
0100 1111 0101
1010 1100 0100
Codage du
0100 1111 0101
1010 1100 0100 1010
1010 1100 0100
0100 1111 0101 0011
1010 1100 0100 1010
Les principes du multiplexage – La transmission des messages
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
II. Notion de bus de communication
structure de trame
• Début : symbole indiquant le début d’une trame ; les horloges internes des
récepteurs se « calent » sur celle de l’émetteur
• Identificateur : champ d’identification de la trame qui sert à identifier le contenu du
message (ex : régime moteur) et parfois les destinataires
• Com. : champ de commande qui annonce la nature du message (données ou requête)
pour le VAN, qui annonce le nbre d’octets du champ de données pour le CAN
• Informations : champ contenant les données à transmettre (exemple :
INFORMATION REGIME MOTEUR envoyée par le boîtier gestion moteur)
• Contrôle : champ de contrôle de la cohérence de la trame (l’émetteur calcule un code
en fonction des données transmises ; les récepteurs font le même calcul et comparent
: si il y a une différence, la trame ne sera pas acquittée)
• Ack : champ accusé de réception si aucune erreur détectée en contrôle
• Fin : symbole indiquant la fin de la trame
• Séparateur de trame : un certain nombre de bits constituent un espace entre 2
Début Identificateur Com. Informations Contrôle Ack Fin
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
II. Notion de bus de communication
Synchronisation des horloges
¸ Sur le réseau, la durée de transmission d’un bit peut varier d’un
noeud à l’autre ; les boîtiers doivent donc effectuer une
synchronisation pour une bonne réception : c’est la synchronisation
des horloges
¸ Ce sont les horloges des récepteurs qui se calent sur l’horloge de
l’émetteur :
• En début d’émission de trame sur le bus (: le bus passe de l’état de
repos à celui d’activité)
• Pendant l’émission de la trame : les bits Stuffing sur le CAN
¸ Le récepteur compare sa durée de transmission d’un bit avec celle
de la trame en cours de lecture.
¸ La synchronisation consiste à allonger ou raccourcir la durée de
transmission d’un bit du boîtier récepteur, pour l’ajuster avec celle
d’un bit du boîtier émetteur
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
II. Notion de bus de communication
notion d’arbitrage
Equipement A Equipement B Equipement C
A1, A2, A3, A4 ; B1, B2, B3; C1, C2
ÿ Arbitrage bit à bit (niveaux Récessif /
bit à 0 = Dominant
bit à 1 = Récessif
Un niveau Dominant l’emporte toujours sur un
niveau Récessif
Début 0001 0001 1111 Com. Informations de A Contrôle Ack Fin
Début 0001 0000 0000 Com. Informations de B Contrôle Ack Fin
Début 0001 0000 0101 Com. Informations de C Contrôle Ack Fin
ÿ Il peut arriver que 2 nœuds (ou plus) émettent simultanément une trame sur le bus.
ÿ Au début d’émission pas de conflit, car le champ de début de trame est identique
pour tous les boîtiers.
ÿ Mais ensuite il va falloir déterminer laquelle des trames est prioritaire sur les
autres, elle sera la seule transmise.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
II. Notion de bus de communication
notion d’arbitrage
Sur le bus
Début 0001 0001 1111 Com. Informations de A Contrôle Ack Fin
Début 0001 0000 0000 Com. Informations de B Contrôle Ack Fin
Perte d’arbitrage
de la trame de A
Début 0001 0000 —- Com. Contrôle Ack Fin
Début 0001 0000 0101 Com. Informations de C Contrôle Ack Fin
ÿ Chaque émetteur compare le bit qu’il reçoit avec celui qu’il émet ; tant
que ces 2 bits sont identiques les 2 transmissions continuent
ÿ Dès que 2 bits diffèrent, le boîtier ayant émis un bit à l’état récessif,
cesse d’émettre
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
II. Notion de bus de communication
notion d’arbitrage
B Début 0001 0000 0000 Com. Informations de B Contrôle Ack Fin
Sur le bus Début 0001 0000 0000 Com. Informations de B Contrôle Ack Fin
C Début 0001 0000 0101 Com. Informations de C Contrôle Ack Fin
Perte d’arbitrage de la trame de C
ÿ Sur le VAN, la priorité d’une trame peut-être déterminée sur
toute sa longueur
ÿ Sur le CAN, la priorité est déterminée sur le seul champ
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Le protocole CAN (Control Area Network) est un protocole de communication
série qui supporte des systèmes temps réel avec un haut niveau de fiabilité.
Ses domaines d’application s’étendent des réseaux moyens débits aux réseaux
de multiplexages faibles coûts. Il est avant tout à classer dans la catégorie des
réseaux de terrain
– hiérarchisation des messages.
– garantie des temps de latence.
– souplesse de configuration.
– réception de multiples sources avec synchronisation temporelle.
– fonctionnement multimaître.
– détections et signalisations d’erreurs.
– retransmission automatique des messages altérés dès que le bus est de
nouveau au repos.
– distinction d’erreurs : d’ordre temporaire ou de non-fonctionnalité permanente
au niveau d’un nœud.
– déconnexion des nœuds défectueux.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Comment tout à commencé
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Comment tout à commencé
• Le CAN étant un protocole réseau, il
s’intègre dans la norme ISO/OSI
(ISO: International Standards Organization, OSI:
Open Systems Interconnection)
• Le CAN est un bus de communication
série développé à la fin des années 80
par l’entreprise allemande Robert
Bosch. L’objectif était de fournir à
l’industrie automobile un bus peu
coûteux pour l’électronique embarquée
ISO 11898 pour les applications à hauts
ISO 11519 pour les applications à bas
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Caractéristiques physiques du Bus
Le bus série est une paire différentielle connectée sur des résistances 120O
ou des capacités de 30 pF résistant aux perturbations
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Caractéristiques physiques du Bus
¸ Le bus CAN utilise deux fils (une paire torsadée ou non) dont les
désignations sont CAN L (low) et CAN H (High)
¸Les états logiques (0 ou 1) sont codés par différence de potentiel
entre les deux fils : tenue aux perturbations
Il existe deux possibilités de
configuration du bus suivant
que l’on souhaite travailler :
– low speed (125 Kbits)
– high speed (1 Mbits)
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Caractéristiques physiques du Bus : low speed
Bit à 1 Bit à 0 Bit à 1
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Caractéristiques physiques du Bus : high speed
Bit à 1 Bit à 0 Bit à 1
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Caractéristiques physiques du Bus : résumé
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Principe de fonctionnement du bus
Il existe uniquement deux états logiques équivalents à
– Dominant : 0
– Récessif : 1
Le bus utilise un fonctionnement de type « Wired-and » qui
fonctionnement de la façon suivante : un bit dominant (0) écrase un
bit Récessif (1)
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Principe de fonctionnement du bus : concepte « Wired-and »
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Principe de fonctionnement du bus : concepte « Wired-and »
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Principe de fonctionnement du bus : Synchronisation d’horloge
¸ Pour que le message soit bien transmis, les horloges de l’émetteur et
du récepteur ne doivent pas avoir de décalage. Pour cela il suffit de
re-synchroniser régulièrement l’horloge du récepteur sur celle de
¸ Le principe consiste à effectuer un bourrage de bit inverse : méthode
de bit stuffing
¸ Après 5 bits de même niveau, un bit (sans signification) de niveau
inverse est ajouté
¸ Le récepteur reconnaît ces bits stuffing, cale son horloge, les
supprime, et reconstitue le message initial
¸ La vitesse de transmission CAN est exprimée en bits/s. Le débit réel
des infos ne doit pas tenir compte de ces bits stuffing.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Principe de fonctionnement du bus : Synchronisation d’horloge
Technique de Bit-stuffing
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Principe de fonctionnement du bus : Structure de trame
Il existe plusieurs format de trames :
– trame de données (data frame)
– trame de requête (remote frame)
– trame de gestion d’erreur (error frame)
– Trame de surcharge (overload frame)
– espace entre trame (inter-frame space)
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de donnée
Une trame de données se décompose en 7 champs différents (figure 3) :
– le début de trame SOF (Start Of Frame), 1 bit dominant.
– le champ d’arbitrage, 12 bits (identificateur).
– le champ de contrôle, 6 bits (Commandes).
– le champ de données, 0 à 64 bits(informations).
– le champ de CRC (Cyclic Redundancy Code), 16 bits (contrôle).
– le champ d’acquittement (Acknoledge), 2 bits.
– le champ de fin de trame EOF (End Of Frame), 7 bits récessifs.
Début Identificateur Com. Informations Contrôle Ack Fin
SOF (Start Of Frame) : Commence toujours par 1 bit dominant
(bit à 0), la ligne étant précédemment au repos. Ce bit ne sert
qu’à synchroniser les horloges internes des récepteurs sur celle de
l’émetteur : bit de start
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de donnée
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de donnée : Champ d’arbitrage
Début Identificateur Com. Informations Contrôle Ack Fin
Champ composé de 12 bits :
Les 11 premiers indiquent l’identité du contenu du message, et
servent également à l’arbitrage (gestion des priorités)
Le dernier bit (RTR : Remote transmission Request
bit) permet de coder la nature du message : trame de données
(ex : régime moteur) ou trame de requête (demande de T° eau)
bit à 0 (dominant) : trame de données
bit à 1 (récessif) : trame de requête
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de donnée : Champ de commande
¸ Champ de commande constitué de 6 bits :
¸ Le premier bit IDE (Identifier Extention bit) est un bit dominant
permettant de spécifier qu’il s’agit d’une trame standart
¸ Le deuxième bit est réservé est définit comme dominant.
¸ Les 4 derniers permettent de coder le nombre d’octets du champ de
Début Identificateur Com. Informations Contrôle Ack Fin
Bit n°4 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 1
Bit n°3 0 0 1 1 0 0 1 1 1
Bit n°2 0 0 0 0 1 1 1 1 1
Bit n°1 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 1
0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
Nbre d’octets du champ de données
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de donnée : Champ de données
¸ Ce champ contient de 0 à 8 octets de données (64 bits maxi)
Début Identificateur Com. Informations Contrôle Ack Fin
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de donnée : Champ de contrôle
¸ Ce champ de vérification des données est composé de 2 parties :
ÿ Code de vérification des données transmises sur 15 bits : le
récepteur compare son code à celui de l’émetteur ; si différence :
pas d’acquittement
ÿ Délimiteur de vérification de données : marque la fin de vérification,
1 bit toujours à l’état 1 (récessif)
ÿ Ce contrôle est effectué par tous les boîtiers du réseau
ÿ Ce champ est étudié pour une trame de 127 bits max. Le nombre
maximales d’erreurs détectées peut être de 5
Début Identificateur Com. Informations Contrôle Ack Fin
Le champ de contrôle : CRC (Cyclic Redundancy) est composé de
16 bits, il permet de vérifier les données transmises
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de donnée : Champ d’acquitement
¸ Ce champ d’acquittement est composé de 2 bits :
ÿ Un bit d’acquittement à l’état 0 (dominant) si le calcul du code de
vérification des données est correct ; si une erreur : bit laissé à
l’état haut (recessif)
ÿ Un bit délimiteur d’acquittement, toujours à l’état haut (1)
ÿ Tous les boîtiers du réseau doivent acquitter, même si la trame ne
les concerne pas (perte de temps possible)
Pendant cette période, l’émetteur laisse la trame libre…ce sont les
récepteurs qui complètent la trame.
Début Identificateur Com. Informations Contrôle Ack Fin
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de donnée : Champ d’acquitement
Début Identificateur Com. Informations Contrôle Ack Fin
¸ Champ de fin de trame : suite de 7 bits à l’état 1
¸ Le codage par bit stuffing est désactivé à partir de cet instant
¸ Remarque :
• 3 bits à l’état 1 séparent obligatoirement 2 trames consécutives
• 108 bits (sans les stuffing) sont nécessaires pour 64 bits de données
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de requête (remote frame)
Scénario : demande d’informations d’un nœud à un autre.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de requète
Début Identificateur Com. Contrôle Ack Fin
Une trame de requête est constituée de la même manière qu’une
trame de données sauf que le champ de données est vide.
Dans le champ d’arbitrage, le bit de RTR est récessif. Par conséquent si deux
nœuds émettent chacun une trame possédant le même identificateur (c’est à
dire qu’un nœud émet une trame de données et l’autre une trame de
requête), l’arbitrage sur le bit de RTR va donner la priorité à la trame de
Les règles de construction des autres divers champs d’une trame de
requête sont les mêmes que dans le cas d’une trame de données.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de gestion des erreurs
Les erreurs de transmission sont détectées par le décodage du champ
de contrôle, et sont spécifiées au niveau du champ d’acquittement.
On peut dans le protocole du bus CAN détecter 5 types d’erreurs :
– Erreur de bit
– Erreur de stuffing
– Erreur de CRC
– Erreur d’acknowledge delimiter
– Erreur d’acknowledge slot
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de gestion des erreurs : Erreur de Bit
Chaque fois qu’un émetteur envoie un bit sur le bus, il vérifie en même
temps si le niveau émis sur le bus correspond à celui qu’il désire envoyer
en faisant une surveillance du bus. Si le niveau ne correspond pas, il le
signale par un Bit Error.
Exception :
– présence d’un bit dominant à la place d’un bit récessif dans le
champ d’arbitrage (perte d’arbitrage)
– présence d’un bit dominant à la place d’un bit récessif dans le
champ d’acquittement (signalisation d’erreur par un recepteur)
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de gestion des erreurs : Erreur de stuffing
Une erreur de Stuffing est détectée à chaque fois qu’il y a 6 bits
ou plus consécutifs de même signe sur le bus.
– Une erreur de Stuffing ne doit être signalée que dans les
champs d’identificateurs, de commande et de CRC.
– La règle du Bit-Stuffing ne s’appliquant plus après la fin
du CRC. En aucun cas, une erreur de Bit-Stuffing ne doit être
signalée dans le champ de fin de trame ou dans le champ
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de gestion des erreurs : Erreur de CRC
Si la valeur du CRC calculée par le récepteur est différente de
celle envoyée par l’émetteur, il y a erreur de CRC (CRC Error).
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de gestion des erreurs : Erreur d’acknowledge delimiter
Une erreur d’Acknowledge Delimiter est signalée lorsque le récepteur
n’observe pas un bit récessif lors du champ de Acknowledge Delimiter.
Il en est de même pour le CRC Delimiter.
Le délimiteur d’acquittement
doit impérativement être un
bit récessif (niveau 1)
Si une erreur est détectée le
message doit être répeté.
Trame de gestion des erreurs : Erreur de slot acknowledge delimiter
Une erreur de Slot Acknowledge est signalée par l’émetteur s’il ne lit
pas un bit dominant lors du champ de slot acknowledge.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de gestion des erreurs : résumé
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame d’erreur
Cette trame est générée par n’importe quel nœud détectant une erreur.
La trame d’erreur est constituée de deux champs principaux :
– le drapeau d’erreur,
– le délimiteur de champ.
Le champ des drapeaux peut être constitué de deux sortes de drapeaux :
– les drapeaux d’erreur active (Active Error Flag),
– les drapeaux d’erreur passive (Passive Error Flag).
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Gestion du mode d’erreur
Suivant le nombre d’erreur qu’un nœud comptabilise, l’état du mode de ce
nœud peut différer. Un compteur mémorise le nombre d’erreur rencontré
lors de la transmission des trames sur le bus. Deux compteurs séparés
régissent respectivement le nombre d’erreurs en émission et en réception.
Il se nomme :
– Transmit Error Counter pour l’émission (TEC)
– Receive Error Counter pour la réception (REC)
Par défaut (à l’initialisation), le nœud est dans l’état « erreur Active ». Le
bus peut émettre et recevoir sans restriction.
Pendant le fonctionnement, les compteurs sont incrémentés lors de la
détection d’erreur (variable suivant le type d’erreur).
Pour chaque transmission réussie, le compteur est décrémenté.
Le nœud reste dans l’état « erreur active » tant que la valeur du
compteur reste inférieure à 127
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Gestion du mode d’erreur
Si la valeur des compteurs dépasse 127, le nœud passe à l’état
« erreur passive ».
Dans ce mode; le nœud peut émettre et recevoir, mais après
une transmission, il doit suspendre la transmission et attendre
8bits de plus qu’un nœud en mode erreur active pour pouvoir
Si les compteurs dépassent la valeur 255, le nœud passe dans le
mode « Bus off ».
L’activité du noeud est arrêtée, il ne participe plus à la
Seul un RESET permet de repasser en mode erreur active (127
trames de onze bits récessifs).
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Gestion du mode d’erreur
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Gestion du mode d’erreur : gestion du compteurs de réception (REC)
Le compteur de réception est incrémenté de 1 si :
-un récepteur détecte une erreur, le compteur d’erreur de
réception sera incrémenté de 1, sauf si l’erreur est un Bit Error
durant un flag d’erreur active ou un flag de surcharge.
Le compteur de réception est incrémenté de 8 si :
– un récepteur reçoit un bit dominant juste après un flag d’erreur.
– un récepteur voit un Bit Error tandis qu’il reçoit un flag d’erreur
active ou un flag de surcharge.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Gestion du mode d’erreur : gestion du compteurs d’émission (TEC)
Le compteur de transmission est incrémenté de 8 si :
– un émetteur envoie un flag d’erreur, son compteur d’émission
s’incrémente de 8 sauf si l’émetteur est en erreur passive et voit un
Acknowledgment Error (il ne détecte aucun bit dominant sur le
champ d’acknowledge ou lors de l’envoie de la trame d’erreur
passive) et également si l’émetteur envoie un flag d’erreur lors d’une
erreur de Bit-Stuffing durant la période d’arbitrage (détection d’un
bit dominant au lieu d’un bit récessif situé après le RTR).
– un émetteur voit un Bit Error tandis qu’il émet un flag d’erreur
active ou un flag de surcharge.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Gestion du mode d’erreur : gestion des compteurs REC et TEC
Les compteurs d’émission et de réception s’incrémentent de 8
si :
– chaque nœud recevant sept bits dominants consécutifs après
réception d’un Active Error Flag, d’un Passive Error Flag ou d’un
Overload Flag. Après détection de quatorzième bit dominant
consécutif (pour l’Active Error Flag ou l’Overload Flag) ou du huitième
bit dominant consécutif suivant le Passive Error Flag, et après toutes
les suites de huit bits dominants consécutifs.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Gestion du mode d’erreur : gestion des compteurs REC et TEC
Le compteur de réception est décrémenté de 1 si :
– le récepteur reçoit une trame sans erreur (jusqu’au champ
d’Acknowledge Slot) et si la valeur du compteur est comprise entre 1
et 127. Si le compteur est à 0, sa valeur ne change pas (pas
d’incrémentation). S’il est supérieur à 127, sa valeur est ramenée
entre 119 et 127.
Le compteur d’émission est décrémenté de 1 si :
– la transmission d’une trame se déroule sans erreur (jusqu’au champ
d’Acknowledge Slot). Si la valeur du compteur est à 0, le compteur ne
s’incrémente pas.
Le compteur de réception est décrémenté de 1 si :
– le récepteur reçoit une trame sans erreur (jusqu’au champ
d’Acknowledge Slot) et si la valeur du compteur est comprise entre 1
et 127. Si le compteur est à 0, sa valeur ne change pas (pas
d’incrémentation). S’il est supérieur à 127, sa valeur est ramenée
entre 119 et 127.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de surcharge (overload frame)
La trame de surcharge indique aux autres nœuds qu’une station
est surchargée. Elle est formée de deux champs :
– le drapeau de surcharge (Overload Frame) avec six bits
– le délimiteur de surcharge (Overload Delimiter) avec
huit bits récessifs.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Trame de surcharge (overload frame)
Une trame de surcharge est émise sur le bus si :
– un bit dominant est détecté durant la période d’intertrame.
– un récepteur n’est pas prêt pour la réception d’une nouvelle
trame de donnée ou de requête (retard sur le traitement des
informations circulant sur le bus).
Dès qu’une trame de surcharge est émise, les autres nœuds voient sur
le bus une suite de six bits dominants qui ne respectent pas la règle
du Bit-Stuffing. Ils émettent à leur tour une trame de surcharge.
Seulement deux trames de surcharges consécutives sont autorisées sur
le bus (pas plus de 12 bits dominants consécutifs émis sur le bus).
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Période inter-trame
Elle sépare les trames de données ou de requêtes entre elles. Il s’agit
d’une suite de plusieurs bits récessifs. Elle est divisée en deux parties:
– le champ d’intermission
– le bus idle
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Période inter-trame
Le champ d’intermission :
Le champ d’intermission est une suite de 3 bits récessifs
consécutifs. Durant la période d’intermission, l’émission de trame
n’est pas autorisée. Les gestionnaires de protocole ne sont autorisés
à signaler que les conditions de surcharge.
Le champ de Bus Idle :
Le champ de Bus Idle est celui du bus quand il est au repos. Le
niveau de repos est le niveau récessif et aucune trame ne circule sur
le bus (succession de 5 bit récessifs).
Le champ de suspension de transmission :
Le champ de suspension de transmission est émis par un nœud
lorsque celui-ci envoie une trame d’erreur passive.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
La synchronisation du bus
La synchronisation se fait de 2 façon :
– Hard : sur le bit de start
– Re- synchronisation sur chaque front récessif et dominant
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
La notion de « Nominal Bit Time »
Les transitions des bits s’effectuent sur chaque front montant de l’horloge.
Dans le protocole CAN, une période d’horloge correspond à ce que l’on
appelle le Nominal Bit Time.
Il représente en fait la durée du bit sur le bus. Cette durée est, comme
nous l’avons vu, étroitement liée à la période de l’horloge. Chaque station
reliée sur le bus doit être cadencée avec le même Nominal Bit Time pour
pouvoir émettre et recevoir correctement les données circulant sur le bus.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
La notion de « Nominal Bit Time »
La durée du bit time de chaque circuit est construite à partir d’un nombre
déterminé de périodes d’horloge issue de l’horloge interne de chaque
circuit CAN. On définit ainsi un « Time Quantun » qui est une
discrétisation plus petite utilisée par le bus CAN
• La longueur du Time Quantum est programmée par la division de
l’oscillateur interne du composant d’interface.
• Il y a entre 8 et 25 time quanta par Bit.
• La longuer d’un bit (bit Time) et donc le debit (Bit Rate) est obtenu en
programment la longueur du quantun et en programmant le nombre de
quantum par Bit.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
La notion de « Nominal Bit Time »
La norme BOSCH décrit avec précision la composition de ce Nominal
Bit Time qui est divisé en plusieurs segments :
· le segment de synchronisation (SYNC_SEG),
· le segment de propagation (PROP_SEG),
· le segment de phase buffer n°1 (PHASE_SEG1),
· le segment de phase buffer n°2 (PHASE_SEG2).
Segment de synchronisation
Segment de propagation
Segment de Phase buffer 1
Segment de Phase buffer 2
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
La notion de « Nominal Bit Time » : segment de synchronisation
Le segment de synchronisation est utilisé pour synchroniser les
différents nœuds du bus. Comme nous le verrons par la suite, une
transition (de 0 à 1 ou de 1 à 0) doit s’effectuer dans ce segment pour
permettre une re-synchronisation des horloges des différents nœuds en
mode de réception de trames.
La durée de ce segment est toujours de 1 quantum
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
La notion de « Nominal Bit Time » : segment de synchronisation
Le segment de propagation est utilisé pour compenser les
phénomènes de temps de propagation sur le bus.
Il prend en compte le délai introduit par le driver.
La longueur de ce segment varie ente 1 et 8 quanta.
Durée PROP SEG= 2* ( t propag bus + t retard comparateurs +t retard drivers lignes)
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
La notion de « Nominal Bit Time » : Le segment de buffer phase1
Il est surtout utilisé pour compenser les erreurs de phase détectées
lors des transitions.
Ce segment peut être rallongé pendant la re-synchronisation.
Il est composé de 1 à 8 quanta.
Le point d’échantillonnage (Sample point) est le point auquel le bus est
lu, Il est situé à la fin du segment de buffer 1
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
La notion de « Nominal Bit Time » : Le segment buffer phase2 :
Il est surtout utilisé pour compenser les erreurs de phase détectées
lors des transitions.
Ce segment peut être raccourci pendant la re-synchronisation.
Il est composé de 1 à 8 quanta et doit être au moins aussi long que le
temps de traitement de l’information, sans être plus long que le la phase
buffer 1.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
La notion de « Nominal Bit Time » : exemple de re-synchronisation
Ici l’oscillateur de l’émetteur est plus lent que celui du récepteur
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
La notion de « Nominal Bit Time » : exemple de re-synchronisation
Ici l’oscillateur de l’émetteur est plus lent que celui du récepteur
Ajout d’un quantum au niveau du buffer1
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
La notion de « Nominal Bit Time » : exemple de re-synchronisation
Ici l’oscillateur de l’émetteur est plus rapide que celui du récepteur
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
La notion de « Nominal Bit Time » : exemple de re-synchronisation
Ici l’oscillateur de l’émetteur est plus rapide que celui du récepteur
le buffre 2 est raccourci
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
La notion de « Nominal Bit Time » : bit timing
Dans l’implémentation de beaucoup de CAN, le segment de propagation
et le segment de buffer 1 sont regroupés pour une programmation plus
simple on crée les nouveaux segments :
– timing segment 1
– timing segment 2
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
La notion de « Nominal Bit Time » : choix de l’échantillonnage
On peur ainsi plus facilement programmer l’échantillonage.
Attention le segment 2 ne peut pas dépassé 4 quanta
Ceci permet d’avoir une taille de bus maximale.
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Résumé : implémentation
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Résumé : implémentation le contrôleur CAN basic
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)
Résumé : implémentation le contrôleur CAN complet
Stockage et gestion des messages
Les circuits logiques programmables – FPGA
III. Le bus CAN (control Area Network)

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