Spanking the Monkey

2011-08-19T14:17:00.004+08:00

同玲姐在楼下抽烟时, 她问我周末有什么节目. 我搞笑着把 "Stone Temple Pilots" 念成 "Tung Temple Pirates". 就这样, "东庙海盗" 诞生了.

Ladies and gentlemen - "东庙海盗" 的第一首粤语情歌!
(K-版 MV still in production, 就借 Sammi的版本用着先.)

最后一支 - 东庙海盗

即使我的烟瘾是瞒得住
即使我包烟不记摆到边处
想起它的好处想起那些相处
令我连叹气也没法自如
讲不停的心中情谈不尽
煲了再煲这处境失去自控
不止你不相信即使我都不信
就算连煲几支也没法截至
如果你这支烟将是你的最后一支
如果将这种感觉将它吸最后一次
情感会更加真挚连呼吸也不可以
犹如堤缺后无法停止
如果这支烟将会是你的最后一支
如果这眼睛将会被烟蒙最后一次
时光会更加真挚回忆都更加精致
然而为你而难过不已
不只这一支

2009-10-13T13:22:00.002+08:00

前阵子，有位好友和我分享她在某某小说里看到的一段文字，感触多多。

“世上最遙遠的距離，
不是生與死的距離，
不是天各一方，
而是我就站在你面前，
你却不知道我爱你。”

后来又发现，其实，价值观不互相平行，就算在一起，日子久了，距离也会渐渐变遥远。

现在，终于了解到，她知道后的那句“对不起”才是世上最遥远的距离。

-- 写得好像真的一样，不错吧？

2009-05-07T06:05:00.003+08:00

Day 35 after 15 long years. Cold turkey, no patches, lots of lollies. I'm still counting the days so I can't bring myself to say I'm quitting; I'll only go as far as to say I'm trying to stop. Friends have asked me what the motivation is, or more pointedly, who the motivation is.

35 days ago I had an operation to remove 3 impacted wisdom teeth, and was not allowed to smoke for 3 days. Normally that would have gotten me started on chewing the furniture, but seeing as how my teeth were out of commission that turned out to be a bit of good news for the coffee table. I was also on Oxycodone for the post-op recovery so that pretty much took care of the withdrawal pains as well. I woke up caffeine-free too. I wish I had a better story to tell, but really it just seemed like a good idea at the time to consolidate all the addictions by leveraging on the use of controlled pain medication. I'm off the meds now, in case you were wondering.

Trying to stop smoking is somewhat similar to being celibate. Sure you can stop yourself from looking at women but after a while you're gonna start getting wet dreams.

Yes I still dream of smoking and it is a good dream. Sometimes.

2009-02-11T03:30:00.003+08:00

Between drama and boredom is peace. Or is it?

A story.

Once upon a time, there were 2 random people who met by chance. They knew each other, but not very well. Time went by. One drifted. Then the other drifted. But it didn't matter because they didn't know each other very well. By chance, they met again. This time they found they had a lot in common. Except geography. They promised to stay in touch. They did. And surprisingly, they liked each other, just never enough at the same time. They grew together, but also grew apart. Now they still know each other, but not very well.

The End.

2009-01-28T16:56:00.011+08:00

UFOs exist... in Switzerland.

1) Which is more believable, that UFOs are really simply tour buses for some unidentified alien species who would travel billions of miles just to poke sticks up where the sun don't shine, and that aliens are genetically compatible enough to make "alien" babies with human women (and if we can believe the news, some men), or that they really are from a place on the planet where you can't tell what's going on because it's been hidden behind a ring of mountains for most of Civilization, and now ignored by spy satellites because it's a "neutral" country?

2) No one knows anybody who was born in Switzerland, but yet they exist. Same with UFOs. This is slightly circular, yes. But there's more. The "alien" babies mentioned in 1) probably are how real Swiss look like. Slightly Oriental features (single eyelids, slanting eyes, no nose, oversized head etc.), but with big eyes. The song-and-dancing, lederhosen-clad, German-speaking versions we get to see when visiting Switzerland as tourists, are really in costume ala Disneyland. As are the rare ones that make it to the outside world, who incidentally eventually go back to Switzerland, never to be seen again. I do not know this for a fact, I'm just repeating this from what I heard incidentally from a friend of a friend. On a forwarded mass farewell email.

3) They have the best decoy industry - watchmaking. It's really miniaturization technology. Look how they reduced clock towers to the size of a wristwatch. By that logic, who says you can't reduce a jet engine to the size of a Bic lighter, or a cold fusion engine to the size of a food processor? Extrapolating further, and considering how long they've been at it, who's to say they don't yet have anti-gravity and cold fusion? All the prominent nuclear scientists at the turn of the 20th century spoke German. The Swiss speak German. Ergo, all nuclear scientists were Swiss with alibis, or Swiss-trained. They probably already had nuclear technology down pat in WWII, and "discovered" it again just in time so as not to raise suspicion. And that "race" with the Germans to "find" the nuclear bomb? Rhetorical question. More tellingly, there hasn't been Swiss/German uber-scientists after the Nazis ceased to be a threat in taking over Europe and possibly finding out the real Swiss secret. Around the same time, UFOs became active. Guess who's been busy after WWII?

4) The other decoy industry - banking. All that fancy technology has to be financed somehow - what better way than with Other People's Money. In secret numbered bank accounts. Do you know anyone who opened and closed a numbered account? Me neither. Because people who have a numbered account wouldn't tell you that they a) had the money or b) lost the money. (People who have the kind of money for a numbered bank account wouldn't tell me anything, but I wouldn't think to even suggest that could possibly apply to you.)
Here's another argument. Say you are lucky or unlucky enough to have a secret numbered bank account, and say you were also unlucky enough to die. The secret numbered account dies with you. Anyone on your will try to call up the bank and they'll be informed the account number they have is wrong. It's so secret they wouldn't be able to verify it. Insist further, and they get paid a visit by a UFO and branded "eccentric" if they're already rich, or "crazy" if they were depending on what was inside the secret numbered bank account to get rich.
Once in a while someone successfully asks for their money back. It'll be paid for with... yes you got it, Other People's Money. In secret numbered bank accounts.

5) The Swiss have the best PR machine in the world. I say this with 4 supporting observations.
First - the Swiss makes the best watches. Possibly true. In fact, I agree. So where's the PR element, you ask. They never told us it's a spin-off technology from centuries ago when they started on this UFO thing. I smell a cover-up.
Second - The Swiss have the most secure banking industry in the world. As we've mentioned in point 4), it's really just one big Ponzi scheme. It's the best cover-up ever.
Third - The Catholic Church. They were probably the first ones to fall for the secret numbered bank account given that we've all heard how rich they are, yet they're still asking for money every week. The only explanation is they've somehow lost all of it, or can't get it back. If it were up to the Vatican PR machine, we'd have heard of the fiasco already, like how we now know of the Knights Templar from popular "fiction", or the priest-and-altar-boy jokes floating on the internet and late night talk shows. But there's nothing documented on the money at all. Surely you can see the hand of the Swiss PR machine in this.
Lastly - I'm probably not the first one to make this leap in reasoning (albeit an exercise in tautologically abductive reasoning, with a healthy dash of racism - mentioning in point 3 that the bomb was to remove competing genes would be unhealthy), but this will probably be the first place you've read it. Spread the word before it gets removed.

2008-10-21T05:33:00.003+08:00

Scott Adam refers to them as Management Lies, it's really a manager's playbook.

After the Top Dog's email about #1, #4, #12 and #13, naturally we were all more than slightly disturbed. Before I could summon the courage to invoke #2, which by the way was mentioned to each and every one in the team after the last round of #4, the manager preempted with #10 in a team meeting, which could only happen if he was without internet, out of the country and in a tropical jungle hiding under a rock for the past 4 weeks.

Once again, who needs an MBA?

2008-10-14T07:09:00.002+08:00

This is for Tess, who's going to the dentist today. To the tune of Camptown Races.

briault and peridontal probes,
toothache, toothache
mouth mirrors and full-face shields
pneumatic drills

caries on the mesial
toothache, toothache
Crowned molars and root canals
Oxycontin rules

Cavities probed, cavities filled
bridges, fissures, crowns and goo
Going to the dentist, today!

2008-10-14T04:33:00.002+08:00

The Management Consultant's Cookbook

When the Client's stock price is high -
- buy companies
- issue stock to raise cash
- buy more companies
- hire directors

When the Client's stock price is low -
- increase capex
- layoffs
- hire more directors to engineer turnaround

Above all -
Always Think Nike. Brand is more important than tangible products.

Took all of 5 minutes. Who needs an MBA?

2008-10-14T04:21:00.005+08:00

A friend sent this to me. I'm taking it as proof that Canadian women are a tough breed.

SUMMER’S EVE FEMININE SPRAY ULTRA - EXTRA STRENGTH

I'm also guessing Canadian men aren't of the same mettle as their women. I couldn't find a lawnmower under Men's Electric Shavers.

2008-10-10T05:45:00.001+08:00

Pidgin

One of the more underrated things I miss about home is be able to mumble or take verbal shortcuts and still have people understand what I'm saying. It is unbelievably tiring to have to try to pronounce every damn syllable for 16 waking hours, and then repeat. The most annoying part is then they look at you like do you spika english? I end up telling everybody it's pidgin.

I now dream in mumble, and it is a good dream.

2008-09-26T06:21:00.002+08:00

Recommendations

Using the words "I strongly recommend ..." is like an exhortation without the courage of your convictions. It's only useful if no one else has said it before. Take for instance, "I strongly recommend seat belts". People who will take your advice would already be doing it, and die-hards who won't, won't. There's an ancillary point here that says die-hards aren't. Die-hards are rare because so many actually do die. Natural selection, anyone?

If at times you feel that you have to "strongly recommend", I strongly recommend that you don't. It's a waste of time, just as what I'm doing now.

2008-09-17T03:09:00.003+08:00

Work thoughts @ work

Knowledge is what you can recall. Wisdom is applying knowledge correctly at the correct time. Experience is a combination of both. You can have a bad memory and still be wise, just as you can be chockful of knowledge and be stupid. And just because you've been doing something for a long time doesn't mean you're experienced. Just means you've been there for a long time. Experience is optional.

---------------------

Q: What's a man gonna do with hours to fill?
A: Man needs a hobby.
Q: What's a hobby?
A: It's something you like to do, sucks up a whole lot of hours and doesn't pay enough/at all.

Conclusion: If you like what you're doing but it doesn't pay enough, it's a hobby. Get a real job.

2008-08-22T19:54:00.001+08:00

Practical Logic

We wait, only because we're closed to alternatives.

Any alternative is better than none at all, because waiting isn't a decision between a subject and its alternative. It is a decision between waiting and not waiting. Recognising that alternatives exist is important, because while you need never take up the alternative, you can decide to stop waiting.

I am not sure if this is true.

I hope it was.

2008-08-20T13:36:00.004+08:00

The Bipolar's MO.

I try not to remember, so I can never forget.
I try to live without regret, so I constantly apologize.

I will myself to not be a let down, but I'm let down by a lack of will.
I don't want to be disappointing, but I disappoint myself.

I try to be happy, and the effort makes me sad.
I want more than life, so I have less than nothing.

I don't dare to date, because I'll find someone I really like.
I don't dare to commit, and there is no excuse.

Sorry.

2008-08-02T03:57:00.004+08:00

I don't like to spam mass invites because I can't handle the rejection. And because I try not to make it sound like it's a mass invite, I usually get very personal rejections from people who try not to make me feel bad. From a purely ROI point of view, multiple personal rejections from one impersonal mass invite just isn't worth the pain.

Once in a while I forget though, and get gems like "I don't even know what I'm having for lunch."

Just to show there's no hard feelings, and because subtlety is always appreciated, even if it's on an altogether abstract level, here's one for Stacy ...

There was once a lass named Stacy
whose meal choices were a bit hazy
Couldn't decide on lunch
so she went on a hunch
and found tamales were all too maize-y

2008-08-02T03:51:00.002+08:00

Once upon a midnight dreary
While I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious
volume of forgotten lore
While I nodded, nearly napping,
suddenly there came a tapping,
as if someone gently rapping,
rapping at my chamber door...

"Shien you done cos I really need to use the bathroom"

Live alone? well, nevermore.

2008-04-08T05:48:00.004+08:00

Sharing is caring, except when it's not.

Men and women aren't that different. In a relationship, both parties need feedback to react to, and that translates to wanting to know how the other party feels. The problem is, no one really wants to know about stuff that one cannot react to, or rather not have to react to. So, don't talk about how you feel, especially when it is unsolicited. Honest feedback is counter-productive unless it's positive. Spin a story instead. He doesn't want to hear about your feelings, he just wants to hear what he wants to hear. Your objective should not be honest feedback, your objective should be to get him to react the way you want.

Being able to "share" is vastly different from being unable to stop talking about your feelings. Makes you a needy wimp. It's unsexy to need to talk about what's upsetting you. If he cares enough he wouldn't have done it, if he doesn't care enough... well, he doesn't care enough. "Sharing" is useful only when it reinforces a relationship, why say stuff that fucks it up? Don't be afraid to not share.

Even if you really want to tell the other party that you're upset, what are you expecting to get out of it? That he won't do it again? Depends on how much he wants to. Simple economics. Which reward is greater? Keeping you happy, or continue with behavior that keeps himself happy? If you want to find out, try it. Talk about your feelings. There'll be a cost to the relationship, but at least you know how much it's worth. Which you may end up wishing you didn't know, but it's okay. Because now that you know how to spin positively, you already know how to respond to hearing stuff that you don't want to hear.

Now, reverse the genders, and it still works the same way. Amazing, isn't it?

2008-01-13T23:39:00.000+08:00

Can this be true? What have I missed?

http://abcnews.go.com/2020/story?id=4097264&page=1

I don't know, but interviewing a foreign TV actor and a reformed prison pastor somehow doesn't feel like the views are representative. Not to mention self-made millionaires. On the other hand, you can't beat survey data, can you?

There was a lot of griping generally when I visited Singapore this time round. But then I mostly hung out with taxi drivers, and we all know that most Singaporean taxi drivers are courteous, mostly honest, and live in either Hougang or Potong Pasir so they can vote Opposition.

Happy or Somewhat Happy. Come on, this is an automatic Singaporean response to a question from any stranger - unless they're talking down to service staff... If I was stopped on the street and asked the question "How happy are you?" I can either spend 2 seconds to pick Happy or Somewhat Happy, or I can pick the alternative "Unhappy" and be prepared on the spot to justify it for the next 3 mins. We don't expect to be asked to justify why we're happy because there is no action item behind that response.

I think Singaporeans have been quiet for too long to remember how to express grievances without it coming out like whiny complaints. Do we know how to be unhappy constructively?

2008-01-12T06:55:00.000+08:00

From SG to SV

I started the day early, flight was at 5.40pm, but I arrived early before noon to check in my stuff, and maybe loiter in the new Krisflyer lounge at the new swanky $1.7b Terminal 3 at Changi Airport with its army of senior citizen porters.

Q: How many porters does it take to lift a 30kg piece of luggage at Terminal 3?
A: None. How could you even ask them to do it?

Then I found out that I forgot my international driver’s permit. So I went all the way back to JB to get it. Took me 3 hours and any chance of taking it easy in the lounge, gone.

Despite looking more like a terrorist, I seem to be having a better time at airports now. Doesn’t make sense, but it’s true. This time round, the immigration officials were actually friendly. There was even chit-chat. Flight was uneventful and still the same. In-flight entertainment system still has iffy audio and the pretty flight attendants are more stuck-up than they are pretty. Fact of life, I guess. I’m still fascinated with their standard rolled hairdo for long-haired attendants. It looks … bombproof.

After braving the turbulent flight and rainy weather, I’ve arrived safely, jetlagged and now driving on the wrong side of the road.

Also feeling like a total hero after driving 60-odd miles to a remote burb street in Sunnyvale from SF Airport without maps or directions. Actually I just happened to stumble upon the street after getting lost in the deserted, cold, dark and wet streets in Sunnyvale, and I remembered the street name only because I remembered seeing it on the brochure. And the apartment reservation wasn’t even finalized when I boarded the flight. Still, I thought, okay, I can login and check when I get to SF. Turns out free wi-fi is not universal at all airports, so if you’re not traveling with a boy/girl scout, please plan your own route and check out directions on maps.yahoo.com. Or maps.google.com, I’m not fussy. I got there and thank St Chris there was unsecured wi-fi in the apartment compound, and I managed to find out the apartment number with lockbox instructions for the key. See, wi-fi does save lives.

Would have taken photos of the short-stay apartment before all my stuff messed it up – it’s quite pretty - but I was too tired after having lugged my 31.5kg luggage (limit is 32kg) and golf bag up to the third floor. They should ban elevators and reserve 3rd floor and up for the obese. Solve the energy crisis and obesity epidemic with one fell swoop.

2007-03-14T11:12:00.000+08:00

I was listening to The Lonely Goatherd and the first line just popped into my head. I guess high means a totally different state of being for me. Been yodeling in the office since I started writing this and for once, no one is having lunch at their desk. Should do this more often, if only as a service to the community.

I'm not really sure how to name this one, so it shall remain nameless.

High on the grass that my grandma planted
Layee odl, layee odl layee-oo
It's not a drug it's a herbal medicine
Layee odl, layee odl-oo
Drove to the pub in my grandpa's wagon
Layee odl, layee odl layee-oo
Drank pints with my mates, downed shots with strangers
Layee odl, layee odl-oo
Oho layee odllee-oo
Oho layee odl ay!
Oho layee odllee-oo
Hododllee olay!

Stopped by the fuzz at the traffic junction
Layee odl, layee odl layee-oo
Fuzz din believe I was high on water
Layee odl, layee odl-oo
He took me in, in his beat-up Falcon
Layee odl, layee odl-oo
Spent the night in jail, with some fellow drunkards
Layee odl, layee odl layee-oo

[Cough cough!]

Met Bud in the cell, he was a regular
Layee odl, layee odl-oo
Bud was his name, and buds was his career
Layee odl, layee odl-oo
So I struck a deal, with this small-time dealer
Layee odl, layee odl layee-oo
Selling the grass that my grandma planted
Layee odl, layee odl-oo

Hmm hmm hmm hmm
Hmm hmm hmm hmm
Ode layee
Ode layee-ee
Ode layee
Oh Oh Oh Oh layee odl layee-oo
Oh oh layee odl lay
Oh Oh Oh Oh layee odl layee-oo
Layee odllee-o hododlleeoay!

Soon all the cash began to roll in
Layee odl, layee odl layoo-oo
Made loads of dough with nowhere to hide 'em
Layee odl, layee odl-o
so I bought the fuzz and the police station
Layee odl, layee odl lay mmm mmm
and fired the ass of the cop who caught me
Layee odl, layee odl-o
Happy are we layee odllayee-o oh layee odlayee layee-o
High on the weed cakes that my grandma bakes
Layee odl, layee odl layee-o
Ode lay-ee
Ode lay-ee
Ode lay-ee-ee
Ode lay-ee
Odllayee odllay
Odllayee odllay
Odllayee odllay
Odllayee odllayee odlayee odlayee odlay!
Wooo!

2007-02-14T07:05:00.000+08:00

Not enough of them died during the study to be sure

2007-02-13T09:38:00.000+08:00

GRQs.

Everyone wants a risk-free Get Rich Quick scheme. Unfortunately, after years of scheming, I've realised I'm just not devious enough to come up with any. All get rich quick schemes I have in my mind involve breaking the law some way or another. So, to me, getting rich quick is easy if you can set your mind to it. It's coming up with the how to avoid getting caught after the act that takes up all my mental resources during my free time. Here are a few of them that I've been playing with as a thought exercise:

Hydroponic marijuana farming is one way to turn a big unused backyard into a revenue-generating asset.

There's one I call "Trauma-Induced Accelerated Inheritance" or TIAI. Also known as Whacking the old man for his money. Works on the old lady too. No, I'm not really thinking about DOING it. It's a THOUGHT exercise.

Buy oil futures and start a war in the Middle East. This one is easy to get away with, after all 2 generations of the Bush family have done it. It's the How I have a problem with. After all, the only person I know in the Middle East is in Bahrain, which is pretty much the only country there to have run out of oil.

Embezzlement is another if you have access to the company's books. Or you can try Virtual Embezzlement, in which you don't take the money permanently, just stop paying all bills except for the most urgent ones to keep the business running. If you think of the company's turnover as a river of cash, then the 90 day payables is a dam. You can, with some work, lying and a lot of nerve, shore up a cool million on the payables of $5 mil annual turnover business. Once the dam reaches breaking point, or the point where you lose your nerve, take it out, use the cash as collateral to BORROW more cash, churn all that cash for one day on BHP Biliton, put it back before anyone notices. If BHP stock decides to drop on that day, too bad. I never said there was no risk. Change the game plan. Cash out and run. If you're gonna get caught for losing someone else's money, might as well keep some of it and make them work at finding you.

Or read Rich Dad, Poor Dad. He's got the cash flow fairy tale down pat, except that he missed out the part about how it can also build the foundation for a really, really spectacular bankruptcy. Not just your cash, but all your DEBT piled into real estate speculation. Now that's a great idea. I could say more, but I'll leave it to the expert who's taken a swing at it. I especially like this essay from G.K. Chesterton, because it was written way before RDPD and reads like a critique aimed four-square at the book.

2007-01-24T13:54:00.000+08:00

It's focal review time! Bring out the beers!

Tis the season fer'self-assessment tralala lala lala lala
There's no place for self-abasement tralala lala lala lala
Once again we make up stories tralala lalala lalala
Lies we tell for pay increment tralalalala lala lala

2007-01-18T09:09:00.000+08:00

Jaded as I am this is still laugh-out-loud funny. http://www.adnews.com.au/News.cfm?NewsId=2581

For those who can't read it, here's the gist. It seems that the AU Federal Government is finally reacting to criticism that Australia's regional broadband infrastructure is a "disgrace".

Telstra claims that it cannot get a "reasonable return on investment" if it upgrades its own infrastructure without corresponding investment in the country's broadband infrastructure by the Federal Government. Now, this is besides the point here, but I have to mention this: it costs A$60 per month to get a 256K ADSL connection if your home has no cable. I hate to think what Telstra would charge for "upgraded" broadband that would finally bring us on par with the rest of the world.

Back to the point however, and I do love dragging out the punchline, which is that the government has announced that it will spend millions in an attempt to address these concerns. Great news, until you realise what they're spending it on.

'A spokesperson for the federal communications minister, senator Helen Coonan, yesterday announced plans for an ad campaign to convince regional voters Australia's broadband was not the "disgrace" Rupert Murdoch had labelled it. It is believed up to $5 million will be spent on the campaign.'

I think Singapore had the right idea when they converted their old Parliament House into a theatre venue. Politics everywhere is stand-up comedy.

2007-01-04T08:59:00.000+08:00

For years, I have been in denial about my on-again, off-again depression. For one thing, I couldn't accept the fact that my mental health was in a condition that was out of my control. I've always thought of myself as being pretty intelligent, and so I couldn't come to terms with the fact that my mind was diseased. Because if it was, then I would have nothing, wouldn't I?

Depression is insidious, because it is all-pervasive and manifests itself in everything you do and every thought you have. Even when I was aware and was consciously suppressing it, it still seeped into my everyday behaviour and actions. I have unfairly treated some of the people I've loved over the years because it was a whole lot easier to lay the blame on them for the fact that I was unhappy than to admit that I was unhappy for no reason at all because goddammit, I am not depressed! And it is a vicious cycle, because deep down inside I know the real reason behind what I did and so it gets even more depressing, which I can't deal with and I suppress it even more. Vicious. I'm not proud of some of the things I've done.

Dealing with depression is a constant effort. It involves a real-time self-review, second-guessing every action, every thought, wondering if that negative thought is pessimism, cynicism or simply common sense. For years I've embraced cynical pessimism - if there's such a term - as an intellectual exercise, because it made me feel more intelligent to be able to see what was happening and where things would lead, and to be able to say "I told you so". But it's nothing more than a delusion. It's easy to see what happened and what will happen. Most times something deteriorates as predicted because it's nothing more than a logical progression if you do nothing to change it. What's so smart about that? The truly smart people apply their intelligence into trying to change a potentially negative outcome they are already aware of into a positive outcome they hope to achieve, despite the odds. Hope is not a silly thing to have. It's only silly when all you do is hope.

It's taken me a lot of courage to write this, because it is a subject that I haven't been able to face up to for most of my teenage years into my whole adult life. I only hope I can keep it up.

2006-11-20T07:00:00.000+08:00

Going through my routine junk mail clearance, and this one said, "Thank you for being a good friend!" When was the last time someone said that to you?

If, like me, it has to come from spam, then maybe it's time to think hard about doing some maintainence.

2006-11-15T08:35:00.000+08:00

Aussie-isms

Tell it like it is, won't you?

Seems to me that, in their own way, Aussies are as accomplished as the Japanese at conducting thinking conversations. They don't tell you like it is, they tell you what it's not... and you have to guess the rest. They like to keep you guessing.

How's it goin'?
Not bad.

What's happenin'?
Not much.

How far to the pub?
Oh, it's not far.

When are we leaving?
Not long now.

Fancy a shag, love?
Not tonight.

Legend!

Aussies say that as a compliment for a job well done. What they don't realise is, a legend is usually about a person who is already dead. Why curse the people who did a good job? Instead, say, "you're living proof of the triumph of justice and hard work in the eternal fight of good vs. evil!" A mouthful, yes, but hey, it nevers hurts to be specific.

You larrikin!

Someone always says that when I say something naughty. What the heck is a larrikin anyway? Took me a while before I realised I WASN'T being compared to Larry King. I don't watch TV much nowadays, so I was beginning to think Larry King had a comedy talk show telling dirty jokes on the Adult Channel.

Oh wait. He does.

CNN is so disgusting, isn't it.

Mate, mate, mate

BUT IT NEVER HAPPENS!! Oh, all those empty promises of sex! Though I must say Australia must be the most homo-liberal country on the planet. Even the men - especially the men - ask to mate all the time, and the more they drink the louder they get in their requests. I'm just waiting for the day some hot chick says "how's it goin', mate?" and I will give her a good goin' as requested and ravish her on the spot.

This "mate" thing can be confusing if you spend a lot of time watching Animal Planet.

Man tranny

That refers to a car with a manual transmission, not a gender-confused male.

My favourite line about the Aussie Christmas activity

"Me and my mates we'd gather at one of me mate's backyard, spend our afternoon in singlets and thongs, beer in hand, gathered around the barbie and slapping on weiners."

For the clueless, it's summer during Christmas in Australia, thongs are flip-flops, the barbie is the barbeque grill, not the doll. And a weiner is a sausage.

This handy book saved my new social life before it self-destructed with faux pas galore. Well, not really, as it wasn't without its mistakes. Or at least I think this is a mistake. Maybe Beavis and Butthead redefined it, or it's just the occasional arse-end-up-ness of Aussie vocabulary in general, but ...

Bunghole refers to the mouth? (ref. p.66)

Still, it was an interesting read all the same. The Lonely Planet Australian Phrasebook, courtesy of my relocation service provider. Thank you, Australiawide Relocations. Thank you, Lonely Planet.

2006-10-23T11:50:00.000+08:00

Vegemite Street Value Soars

The street value of Vegemite skyrocketed in major US cities today after it was announced by the US Food and Drug Administration that Vegemite is now an illegal substance in the United States. Other Vegemite substitutes, the most common ones going by the street names Marmite and Bovril, are said to be in short supply hours following the announcement.

Suspected Vegemite users entering the US will be searched for the dark colored paste, normally trafficked in jars or tubes.

Said an Australian who landed at San Francisco Airport today when asked about his thoughts on the matter, "I don't do Vegemite. No comment." and walked hurriedly away. It was found later that he had 2 tubes of Vegemite in his travel bag, and was brought away by the authorities for questioning. Authorities declined comment.

"Vegemite users are warned not to traffic the substance as we will spare no effort in preventing the product from entering and befouling the sweet air of our great nation," the Hon. Gov. Schwarzenegger was quoted as saying at a charity gala raising funds for asthma victims in the city of L.A. He also said that it is every patriot's duty to nip the Vegemite scourge now before it overruns the country, or "it'll be back."

Discovered in 1923, Vegemite is a dark, strong smelling, savoury paste, and has been found to contain folic acid. Folic acid can be corrosive in large amounts and high concentrations.

Vegemite is very popular in New Zealand and Australia, especially with the Australian office crowd and students, who use the substance as a pick-me-up in the mornings or as a hunger supressant when ingested with bread. It is also less commonly used as an appetite suppresant when used as a sniffing substance. Due to its high sodium chloride content, heavy users of ingested Vegemite are at high risk of kidney failure after prolonged abuse.

------------------------------------------------------

All quotes are products of my imagination. That the 'US makes Vegemite an illegal substance' is, sadly, true.

Updated 18 Jan '07: I should have updated this earlier, but I was lazy. The FDA had a press release in response to the earlier statement by Kraft Foods, saying that at no time did they declare Vegemite illegal for import. The fledging black market collapsed in a matter of hours.

2006-09-19T13:36:00.000+08:00

One night, back in another life, I had a dream. I dreamt of my father. There was no face, only a superimposed image of the same grin of the same few photos. I woke up. I couldn't recall his face. I remember some of the things that he did, the jokes, the caning, the weird stories he told, songs he listened to, the time he shaved off his moustache. But no face in any of them except for the photos. Just like in the dream. The dream had become a waking nightmare. I had locked him up in the recesses of my memory for too long. That was the day I realised I could no longer remember how my father looked like. I cried. And I couldn't stop.

2006-09-14T14:27:00.000+08:00

My first trapped lift experience.

This just happened like an hour ago. I was on my way back to the office from lunch. Humming to myself, I stepped into the lift, pressed "6". After an irritating pause, the doors closed. Then began the thrill ride. The lift shot up to the 3rd, jammed, jerked a bit upwards, jammed, moved to 4th according to the number panel, and jammed again. You'd think obviously I would have realised something was wrong by then right? No. Stupidly I was still trying to press "6" on the control panel, which by then had gone dead. Nothing responded.

The lift suddenly shot up again - maybe my subconscious was already freaking out and my sense of time got distorted but yes, it literally shot up and jammed again in all of maybe 5 seconds. You know how you can feel the increase in weight in a high speed lift when it first spools up to max speed and then the weight sensation eases off after that? That's exactly what I felt, except that it didn't ease off. This time it stopped with a heart-stopping thump when it jammed.

All this while, my conscious mind was still trying to keep up with the event. "Okaaay, number panel blank, control panel dead, lift jamming... maybe I should press the alarm button." Before I got to the alarm button part though...

The lift *dropped*.

My mind caught up. "Ahhhhhh!!!" went the silent scream.

Pressed the alarm button, which had a sign beside it that told me to wait 5 seconds for a reply. I started counting. one thousand, two thousand... ten thousand... Number panel came alive again. According to it I was already on the 14th. Yes, 10 floors UP in 5 seconds from standstill. That's how fast it felt. Control panel still wasn't working though. "14", nope. "6", nope. "1" nope. Wrong floor, duh. "G" for ground floor, nope. And from the retarded guy mode I had my rocket scientist moment. While trying out the 4 or 5 numbers on the panel I worked out 14 floors was about 45 metres up and it'd all be over in about 3 secs of free fall. 4+ seconds if you factor in friction.

I distracted myself a bit there and took a little time to be amazed by myself. And "wait five seconds for a reply"? Ha!

Thump. Whirr. The lift came alive again. I became stupid again. A smart thing to do would have been to press the nearest floor to get out of the dangling coffin, right? No. I pressed "6". The lift jammed momentarily at 11, and finally I got smart again and pressed "10". The lift continued moving, stopped with a thump and the doors opened, jammed 1/4 way and auto-closed again - cue silent scream "OhMyGuanYinMa....." - and mercifully re-opened to the Time/Life office. I stepped out and tumbled. The lift stopped 3 inches above resting position. The receptionist at the lobby looked at me, I looked at her stupidly, and said, "oh, the lift's broken". We both looked towards the lift, and right at that moment, thump. The lift dropped the final 3 inches. Drama.

I waited for the cursed lift to go before I pressed for another lift. My panic finally caught up. I was actually contemplating taking the emergency staircase instead of the lift. Vertigo set in. I felt light headed and could feel the floor falling off. The lift came, I told myself, "don't be stupid". Arrived at the 6th floor safely and just in time to hear the lift alarm go, "Riiiinngg!"

Another sucker, another story.

2006-05-11T15:33:00.000+08:00

I wish I heard the Rolling Stones song "Satisfaction" when I was doing my A's. But I guess
it's never too late to write another parody.

I can't get no education
I can't get no motivation
'Cause I try and I try and I try and I try
I can't get no, I can't get no.

When I'm dozing in my class
and that man, claims to be my lecturer
and he's tellin' me more and more
about some useless information
supposed to fire my imagination
I can't get no, oh no no no
Hey hey hey, that's what I say

I can't get no education
I can't get no motivation
'Cause I try and I try and I try and I try
I can't get no, I can't get no.

Well I'm wastin' time indeed
while he makes a mess of GP
How good can my grades be?
Well I need a tutor who doesn't smoke
I'm dazed, he's confusing me
I can't get no, oh no no no
Hey hey hey, that's what I say

I am driven to distraction
My tutor's got girly actions
But I try and I try and I try and I try
I can't get no, I can't get no

I'm gonna flunk my GCE's
cos I'm failing this and I'm failing that
Still I'm writing bad lyrics
instead of churning a thousand words on "Beauty's skin deep"
And I'm shooting hoops, from 10 to 3
I can't get no, oh no no no
Hey hey hey, that's what I say

I can't get no, I can't get no,
I can't get no education,
no education, no motivation, oh trepidation!

2006-03-28T15:04:00.000+08:00

I dedicate this to a friend who's moving to an apartment near a cemetery (if I recall correctly) which I think is brave considering how she is afraid of ghosts.

There was a dame named Madona
Who had an interesting persona
She wanted a mirror with candles
to be placed facing the windows
but got scared that "hantu's gonna get ya."

2006-03-13T11:36:00.000+08:00

To me, the conscience, as a part of a person's psyche, is an implanted concept. The idea that a person has morals in-built and manifests itself as the conscience is inculcated during one's formative years. Do not do this, do not do that, you must be righteous and fair, you cannot do what you want because it will hurt someone else. These are not hardwired instructions. "Innocent as a baby" is a simile at best misleading. Babies are not innocent. They do not do things to hurt people only because they are incapable of doing so and there is no payoff in doing so. They would give no thought to snatching another baby's pacifier if they want it. They do not show consideration for their overworked and exhausted parents and caregivers. I don't hate babies, i don't think badly of them, the point I am trying to make is that at birth they have no concept of morals as we do as adults. What we come to know as morals, or social rules, are drummed into us as part of our parental upbringing and largely state-sponsored education - remember Moral Ed? - so that we as a society do not descend into anarchy.

I'm all for Moral Ed. as a method of crowd control, and more importantly I believe that I would have died an early age in the hands of my peers without social rules. But as an adult in the working world, does it still serve our purpose? Society defines the norm, on which a loose set of rules called morals and laws are based. But to follow the norm is to BE the norm. Rational man by nature is simply an economist. Every decision is a choice between payoffs, even if the motivation may sometimes confound others but that's besides the point. "Being good is its own reward" is part of one's moral programming, and to tell you the truth, it does fuck-all for me even as a feel-good factor after I get suckered. Feel-goof factor is more like it.

Successful people, I have realised, mostly have the ability to step over people to achieve what they want. They have either modified or overcome their moral rules exhorting them to behave justly and equitably. What I am saying might sound like sour grapes, that successful people have sold their souls for their success, but think again - isn't this just another example of how moral thinking have become part of our psyche that we even use it to put down other people's ability to overcome their own programming? And think about this: By choosing to not do something that would benefit you, such as sucking up, simply because it is against your conscience to do so, it is a choice between maintaining an implanted abstract concept and a very practical benefit. Equitable behavior? To who?

2006-03-10T09:57:00.000+08:00

Pills-related suicide attempts.

12 panadols is a cry for help. 24 assorted pills is a commitment problem, pardon the pun. If you really want to die, 10x the recommended daily dosage should be the minimum requirement. Anything less is at best a lack of commitment, at worst it's just drama queen. And please, if your boyfriend is in the same house, don't even bother. You know you won't get to die. It's just a lot of self-inflicted suffering, not to mention permanently fucking up your liver and kidneys in the process to only say you're really, really upset. It's an inefficient way to make a point.

Plus, you die, he's free. Regrets? Ha! You're just another crazy bitch story he's going to tell his next conquest. "She gone mental and croaked herself, I was there but couldn't save her, I'm so traumatised" in SNAG tongue.

Of course, if you really have to, don't attempt. Commit, dammit, commit. Do it properly. Suicide is a life-and-death business. Take it seriously.

For those who are stupid enough to want to do it, you gonna need some help cos you definitely stupid enough to fuck it up.

Sleeping pills. Or whatever you can get your hands on that will knock you out, but make sure it's at least 20x the recommended daily dosage. That means saving your last four flu prescriptions. And please, no Panadol. Pansy-ass drug and the alkaline buffer is just going to react with stomach acid and make you froth at the mouth BEFORE you die. Using birth control pills would be so stupid I won't even want to mention it here except for laughs.
Wait half-hour or so, or until right before you pass out, take liquor - vodka, whiskey, what have you - and slug it. Do it too early and you gonna puke from the alcohol before the drug cocktail does its job.
And please, do it alone. If you gonna have to be that ugly, you won't want to be seen and have to survive the attempt to know about it.

2006-01-20T11:54:00.000+08:00

I keep seeing classified ads offering "masterbed rooms". Exciting. Wonder if it comes with a helper, since they "include utilities".

2006-01-13T15:23:00.000+08:00

Found this brainteaser sitting in my email this morning. Apparently, the person who sent it to me has got an office bet going on, and whoever solves it first gets a lunch treat from the rest of her colleagues.

The birthday of A is M(month) and N(date), where the actual birthday is one of the following 10 dates:

Mar 4, Mar 5, Mar 8 (M = 3)
Jun 4, Jun 7 (M = 6)
Sep 1, Sep 5 (M = 9)
Dec 1, Dec 2, Dec 8 (M = 12)

A told B only the value of M, and told C only the value of N. After that,

B first said: if I don't know A's birthday, C won't know either.
C then said: I didn't know A's birthday, but now I know it.
B then said: Then I know it, too.

Do you know what A's birthday is?

2006-01-05T19:26:00.000+08:00

The Paw and the Goldfish

A goldfish. It lived in a bowl. And it was curious. It ventured, but not far away, in circles. Trawling for new images and images and images from the convex reflections of the inside of the glass bowl. Life was good.

The fish always felt that she was meant to be alone. One day, a paw came into her world. Look, what's that? It was unlike anything as she had ever seen. A being from another dimension? That did not bother her. But it looked mean. The fish didn't know what to do. On the one fin, she was scared. On the other fin, here was company. So she swam closer, circling to get a better look. But just far enough to feel safe. What was it? It got curiouser and curiouser.

The paw left. Disappeared into the flat reflection of the sky, except that the fish didn't have a concept of sky. The fish was alone again. But now something had changed. Maybe the presence of the paw changed the water. Maybe the presence of the paw changed her. Maybe. What the fish now realised was that the paw wasn't that scary after all. And maybe if the paw came back, she would make contact. And one wouldn't be one no more. One would be two. And with that, the fish went back to trawling for new images and images and images. Life was good.

And the paw came back.

Look! What's that?

------------------

This nonsense story was written for Pinky, who recently acquired a new nick "Goldfish" as befitting her absentmindedness. It was inspired by and loosely adapted from a similar story written by one of the most talented writers I know. That one is a cheem story about a cat and a scorpion.

2005-11-21T19:13:00.000+08:00

"ca t e w t 1 a d"

A colleague injured her right hand, came in to the office this morning with her hand all bandaged up. It occurred to me that if I "can only type with 1 hand", it'd be quite tough to make myself understood.

2005-11-15T14:30:00.000+08:00

This is preliminary report on a new sub-category of personality disorders, tentatively termed here as the Reverse Multi-Polar Disorder, or RMPD. Literature reviews have not returned any case occurrences of similar nature. Please submit similar cases to Author.

Below is a transcript of the session with the patient. Note that there are no symptoms of psychosis, as the patient is aware of and acknowledges the presence of other entities.

M&M: one doesnt know these things
S: stop using one to refer to yourself la
M&M: ok we shall refrain
S: yes, all of you.
M&M: but there is only one of us
S: is there like, reverse multipolar disorder?
S: one has multiple personalities, but they all think they are the same person
M&M: hey thats cool!
M&M: oooh we have a new disorder!
M&M: thanks!
M&M: from us

* For all the scientific bores out there, here's the disclaimer. This is not a real report nor is it meant to stake claim on the term "Reverse Multi-Polar Disorder" and its abbreviation "RMPD". Gags are such hassles.

2005-10-21T11:08:00.000+08:00

I love the way FBI does business. Overheard on a phone conversation with a client, "The only way we can do this is if you give me more money." And this is the first thing he said after "Hello".

And it worked!

2005-10-12T16:14:00.000+08:00

2 separate conversations between 3 colleagues, whom I shall refer to as FBI, DBS (as they so fondly call each other) and M&M. M&M - she's our resident "vocabularian" and innuendo expert.

Conversation #1
DBS needed a proposal done up really quickly, but knows that M&M is perpetually under a tight schedule, and this is his approach as recounted by M&M over a smoke break.

DBS: (innocently) Hey M, are you tight?
M&M: (raised eyebrow and pauses before answering) Yes. Very.
DBS: (still unaware of what he just said) Ok, I do myself.

Conversation #2
Over a dessert of chocolate tart and ice cream. According to FBI's own "testimony", he's been in heat for nearly a year now since his wife got pregnant.

M&M: I can't finish this, you want it?
FBI: (leering look) Yes M, I would love to eat your tart.
M&M: Eewwwww, suddenly I don't feel like passing it to you anymore
Me: (to M&M) Eat your own tart.
M&M: Sorry but a yoga master I am not.

Edited 14/10:
FBI = Fucking Bloody Idiot
DBS = Damn Bloody Stupid
M&M = Chocolate that melts in your mouth, not in your hands.

2005-10-12T13:41:00.000+08:00

Sharks. Latest cause for the fashionable environmentalist.

I attended a colleague's wedding at Fullerton Hotel last week, sitting at the same table with Giovanni and Rosa, two of our social trend fashionistas in the office. Right after the first course was served, even before I could start eating, Giovanni dropped a veiled challenge to the Gaia-plundering barbarians seated at the table, "We're not having the second course, RIGHT?"

Didn't take much to piss me off right there. I hadn't seen the dinner menu yet - it was at his side of the table - but right away you just had to know he was talking about shark's fin. Here's the whole exchange:

G: We're not having the second course, RIGHT?
S: Huh?
G: We're NOT having the second course, RIGHT?
S: Why not?
G: Cos no one here wants to eat it.
S: What?
G: We can tell them no need to serve this table, take it back.
S: No.
G: No one here is having it.
S: I'M having it.

At which point another colleague beside me stopped me, and Rosa nipped the fight in the bud with, "I think it's a lifestyle choice, so it's their choice" then proceeded to explain, to a clueless by-seater, so to speak, but at a volume for everyone at the table to hear, "Sharks take two weeks to die after they cut off the chark's fin cos they throw the shark back into the water." Wow, knowledgable. Later that night I found out that the Sunday Lifestyle section did a feature article on shark's fin.

Up to a certain point I'm for conservation and humane treatment of animals. I agree illegal sharking(?) boats practise cruel and inhumane harvesting methods of shark's fins. I would not order shark's fin soup if it were up to me. Plus I think it's overrated as a delicacy. Though the crab stew it usually comes in... ooh. Try it with a dash of brandy and you'll know what I mean. I would be perfectly happy if they just served the crab stew without the 2 grams of tasteless dead shark in it.

I know the demand-side argument for rejecting shark's fin consumption, but the damn shark's already dead, what good is throwing away my 2 grams of fin gonna do it? Commercial fishing is inhumane too, if you want to pursue ideals to their logical ends. Trawling nets full of fish gasping for water is analogous to drowning a whole herd of cows to get beef. And what about foie gras? Giovanni and Rosa were at the same table again last night and I didn't hear a peep about them rejecting the ingestion of the force-fed geese livers on their plates on grounds of animal cruelty. Where do you draw the line? When should action be taken? While the animal is still alive and really do the creature some good, or when the poor fish is already dead, rotting carcass at the bottom of the sea half-eaten by scavenging crabs? At this point I have more respect for violent protesters on chase boats out there in the sea, than loud anti-sharking advocates at the dinner table.

The long of the short is, don't decide for me what I can or can't eat! And using social guilt to show up other people at a dinner table is just so... words fail me. Just because people are too polite to argue with you in public doesn't mean you can force your choices on them. For 2 grams of a shark that's already dead? Isn't that a lost cause?

2005-05-11T11:10:00.000+08:00

Car park entry charges should come with complimentary bricks

URA car parks along Orchard Road have a fundamental conflict in design. The goals are clear: maximise revenue and maximise inventory. With these 2 design goals in mind, the logical outcome is to charge the highest price possible while sizing the parking lots as small as possible.

In doing so they have priced the car parks to within the affordability by only a select few whose luxury/sports cars can't fit into the sub-compact lots anyway. I mean you'd have to be driving a Picanto to be able to park in a lot with a Merc on one side and a Ferrari on the other. Even then you'd have to align it nicely, slip it into Neutral, get out of the car and push it into the lot (Tip: always remember to wedge the tyre with a brick to prevent the car from rolling out). But then, if you fit the Picanto demographic, you probably can't afford to park it on Orchard Road.

Nothing against Picanto owners, of course. I love budget cars. My point is "budget car" is a contradiction in terms. Parking my car to go for lunch is way more expensive than my lunch.

Bad example, actually. A Merc owner would take up 2 lots just to make sure their doors don't get scratched. A Ferrari owner would do the same just to make sure they can even open their doors.

Dress Tip

On a totally different track now. For those guys who like to see their girlfriends'/wives' in dresses but always get suckered into paying for their expensive dresses only to end up seeing them wear it only once. Women know you like to see them in dresses. So why would they pay for a dress when you would willingly pay for it? I like to see them in dresses too, so I don't mind paying for a dress for my gf but then I really would like to get some mileage out of a dress before getting a new one.

All you victims out there, here's a one-word tip:

"Reimbursement".

This is how it works. Make them pay for it first (good luck). Then you reimburse in instalments every time they wear it. This way you get mileage out of the dress and in the event that she never wears it your money is protected from a bad investment. Aside from the social escort angle to it, it's simple and brilliant, no?

My gf told me about a dress last night. I told her about the reimbursement plan. She laughed. Like _really_ laughed.

2005-04-07T02:51:00.000+08:00

I've found the title of the original song in the previous post. It's called 满场飞 by 张帆, and not 周璇 as I had thought earlier. Went trawling for an audio file online, here it is after much Yagoohoogle-ing. Don't think the Yagoohoogle site is legal, though I think the idea of putting something together that makes lives easier, using nothing more than simple php to assemble search strings and i-frames together, deserves a kudos. That's what technology should be, simple but effective.

Anyway, as I was saying, here's the song: 张帆 - 满场飞

Don't know how long it'll be there so enjoy(?) while you can. A word of warning though - it's a lot older than I thought; this came from a compilation of 30's Shanghai songs, so it's really not for everyone. Now I'm wondering where I heard it before, that I could actually remember the old tune note for note amazes even me.

I also managed to find the lyrics to the song. Very poetic. Listening to it brings forth images of a dimly-lit den on the second storey of an old Chinese shophouse with light coming in only from two tall narrow windows, one of which frames the outline of a lone singing bird in a cage hanging from a hook at the top of the window frame. An old squeaky brass ceiling fan turning slowly, barely disturbing the swirls of smoke hanging thickly in the air. A couple of men with short gold chains tethered to equally gold pocket watches in the waist pockets of their pinstripe vests worn over white shirts with loosened collars and suspendered pants, lounging on day beds smoking their ivory-tipped tobacco pipes. Their beautiful mistresses in tight cheongsams and red lipstick and rouge and permanent wave hair held in place with hairpins, sitting around an ancient transistor radio that is playing this song. Love it. Almost too Wong Kar Wai.

Much as I like that imagery, I still like my version, simple and heartland-ish as it is. Proud of it, even, considering I've not written anything in Mandarin for quite a while now. Reminds me of songs on one of those Jack Neo cassette tapes my friends used to buy a long time ago, way back in secondary school.

2005-04-06T15:46:00.000+08:00

An old Mandarin song came to my mind while queuing for a cab yesterday. I can't remember the name, only one line from it - 爵士乐声响 ... - I think it was by 周璇 or some other equally ancient singer. So i made up some parts of it and was singing it out loud and irritating the gf - and scaring the Japanese woman standing behind me enough to move away, according to her. Anyway, from there, the lyrics practically wrote itself.

排队

我爹从小教我排队
排队是好公民行为
上课前要排队
迟到你就倒霉嘿！

到了今天我三十岁
朝朝暮暮仍得排队
电梯门外排队
结果迟到开会嘿！

昨天排队今天排队
天天排队到处排队
快餐店吃饭也在排队
就连还钱也得排队

Bugis Village 人潮堆堆
ATM 都被人龙包围
马票又在排队
怕累更怕后悔嘿！

2005-04-04T21:29:00.000+08:00

Came across Shaolintiger's blog, well written, funny, almost a shame that he's an angmoh. There was a link on one of the entries for a quiz that he had completed. Went to try it; found that...

You scored as Islam. Your beliefs are most similar to those of Islam. Do more research on Islam and possibly consider taking the shahadah and officially becoming a Muslim, if you aren't already.

Despite the actions of some - who go against the teachings of Islam - Islam is a religion of peace; the word "islam" means "peace through submission to God." "Muslim" means "one who submits to God." Islam is the third of the three Abrahamic faiths, and it shares much with Judaism in Christianity; its differences are the acceptance of Muhammad as the last and final prophet, and the oneness of God - in other words, that Jesus, though he was a revered prophet, was not in fact God, and only one God exists. Apparently the Taliban could not read (though their name means "students"), because the Qur'an states that men and women are equal as believers, and that all believers should be educated and seek knowledge. Modesty in dress and behavior is required in Islam for both men and women to preserve the values of society and move the emphasis from superificial appearance to intelligence, knowledge, and God.

Islam

100%

Satanism

92%

agnosticism

92%

Buddhism

83%

Christianity

58%

atheism

58%

Judaism

50%

Hinduism

50%

Paganism

33%

Which religion is the right one for you? (new version)
created with QuizFarm.com

Hmm... all those discussions with my colleague must've rubbed off on me.

2005-02-15T15:29:00.000+08:00

Quoted in a Reuters news report today about a football match for charity

"I think football basically unites people against injustice, unfairness, and racism. Football is a union of players of all colours and creeds and brings people together at the same time, so it is very important to send out a positive message. Football should set an example." - Barcelona president Joan Laporta

In the face of profit-gouging, corruption, bribery, match-fixing, sex scandals, court cases of racially-induced violence by footballers, salary gaps bigger than the Grand Canyon in the football industry - yes, it's an industry, not the House of Love - I don't know which is sadder, that he can still talk about football in that light with a straight face, or that he actually really believes in what he said.

2005-02-08T13:24:00.000+08:00

The news has been giving full coverage of overcrowded airport terminals and immigration checkpoints, taxed to capacity by reunion travellers and holiday makers building up to the week-long festivities. There are street interviews of people complaining about the long waits for hours on end, not enough transportation scheduled, etc. And I'm thinking, "You think this is bad? Trying doing this every day with you non-regulars jamming the system."

Going home everyday across the causeway during this pre-Chinese New Year period has been a consistent combination of:

sidestepping

leapfrogging

pirouettes

360° spins

over luggages, past the fat women, around the children.

Art has a new low.

Presenting The Swan Lake @ The Woodlands Checkpoint - A Ballet in Timberlands^®

At the risk of overdoing this ballet thing to its tired death, I must say that listening to "The Swan Lake" does help with the grace of movement. Does nothing for the agoraphobia, though.

Happy Chinese New Year, Lunar New Year, Tet or whatever you call it.

2005-01-13T16:04:00.000+08:00

Last night was a pretty life-affirming sort of night, even though it started off looking more like Murphy's night where nothing went according to plan. It was like a refresher course in some of the lessons in life.

Went for Boom Boom Room with gf and a mish-mash of friends and colleagues. Didn't manage to get in, cos the flaming gay door bitch gave up our reservations after confirming it earlier during the day. He said he told me to be seated by 10pm, only I never heard anything of the sort. We could still go in, but it was standing room and audio only (cos I'm short). I insisted he didn't tell me about the cut-off time, and his tone started to turn bitchy really quick.

Lesson 1: Long story short, never argue with a flaming gay, and never argue with a door bitch. If It's a 2-in-1 like the one at Boom Boom Room, just shut up, turn around and walk off. You won't get what you want anyway and the gay bitch loves an argument.

So we ended up hanging around the entrance, debating whether to go in. While calling up everyone who was supposed to turn up for Boom Boom Room about how we lost the reservation, who should I see but the Ex. Oh shit, pretended to be really busy on the phone and moved to one corner. Guess where she was headed? Boom Boom Room. And stayed outside for 5 mins talking to her friends, less than 5 metres away. I don't know if she noticed me but I guess it's kinda hard to miss at that distance. I kept up the phone call thing for the whole time until it was starting to wear thin. Mercifully she went in.

Lesson 2: You should be so lucky to successfully avoid for the rest of your life the people you don't want to meet. Odds are, you're not. Rest of your life is a looong time.

On hindsight, I'm pretty glad we didn't get in. Imagine if I did and the Ex turned up.

Lesson 3: Under the wrong stars, 2 hours can be an even longer time than the rest of your life.

So we all trooped off to Kazbar for a drink and a chat, well, most of us. Nice place, but instead of the usual belly dancer we had a volunteer in a short skirt and tight top "accentuating" her belly that reached out further than her boobs. She started off making out with her guy, and later went on to dry-humping her guy. And we're talking genuine dry-humping, guy-in-chair, crotch-against-crotch stuff. Then she took a break to change to the table next to ours at the entrance, and a few minutes later she started some solo slow dance a la Demi Moore in Striptease without the figure nor - thankfully - the stripping. We were sitting on some cushions on the floor with our backs facing them, and that was some shadow she cast over our table.

Lesson 4: Some things, like car accidents, you just can't help but look, even if you just know you'll lose your lunch after looking.

Met Inge for the first time - Eva's friend. She's one of the genuinely nice people I've ever met, and not just because she likes this blog. Really. ;) Two hours and a couple of pints later, I decided that even though I didn't get into Boom Boom Room I didn't miss much after all. I had a great time, and not just because I finally met a fan, of sorts. Even though that did get my head in the clouds for a while. That, or the couple of pints.

Lesson 5: It's the company that makes a great night out. A little alcohol always helps, of course.

2005-01-04T23:11:00.000+08:00

For those who like puzzle games, try reflections. This is one helluva puzzle game. Took me a whole weekend and then some to finish all 25 levels. Got me thinking about it even during smoke break; it's that addictive. I recommend it for all those who have the patience for puzzles.

Finally, now I can get back to work.

2004-12-28T18:42:00.000+08:00

Time for a few fart jokes!

I've got the GI tract of a 50 year old, I swear. One big dinner and my whole system screws up for a few days. New art form: spray-painting the toilet. And a steady contributor to greenhouse gases for days after that. Good thing it's olfactorily benign, and even better, it's clearing up after a steady dose of Bismag.

Still I must say, Christmas dinner was awesome! CK and gang, you've raised the bar again. I'd do the whole shebang again in a heartbeat. Dang now I gotta wait another year.

Bought me a couple of new t-shirts yesterday. Now I have the whole warm colour spectrum from yellow to orange to red, and varying degrees in between. I especially like this bright orange Gas Jeans t-shirt. Love the brand, love the colour, until gf deadpanned, "hey it suits you." Wisely, if I may say so myself, I kept quiet.

Related the story while chatting with my vendor... the things I do for a living.

me: wearing new Gas Jeans tshirt today. gf said it suits me. Haha
vendor: cuz you fart machine?
me: i wish. but no. "machine" implies an element of control.
vendor: that's not right. thought it only happened to OLD ppl.
vendor: you're, what...45? 46?
me: i have a GI tract of a 50 yr old.
vendor: ah. charming. wish yr gf good luck. it has to be true love.

As Spandau Ballet would say, I know this much is true.

2004-10-13T16:18:00.000+08:00

A 5-verse haiku I wrote for a colleague, a friend who will be leaving soon. Wanted to put it in the farewell card but there was no space on the card left...

Haiku for a Friend

Just two years ago,
An acquaintance that I made.
A new beginning.

A joy to work with
Brimming with true innocence
A breath of fresh air.

Now you are leaving
Raring to take on the world
Your wings fully grown.

I will really miss
All your emails to AdOps
20, every day.

Your cheery outlook
I truly appreciate.
Go, Powerpuff Girl!

Bye bye, Angela. See you around.

2004-10-12T11:20:00.000+08:00

A colleague sitting in the opposite cube asked me if "prophet" was pronounced "prof-fat" or "prof-fert". I didn't really know, but it did bring to mind the classic nursery rhyme Little Miss Muffet. Together with the prophet. From that point on ribaldry took over and there was no turning back from the inevitable debasing of Little Miss Muffet...

Little Miss Muffet
Sat on the prophet
Feeding him curds and whey
Soon came Miss Muffet, who so drenched the prophet
That the prophet smothered happily away.

Disclaimer: In no way does this rhyme refer, directly or indirectly, to any prophet of any religion. Please take your religious thoughts elsewhere.

2004-10-01T19:58:00.000+08:00

A haiku about sunrise, an event I haven't seen for years.

Rays from the dawn sun
Awaking from a deep sleep
Chasing the shadows

2004-09-20T18:45:00.000+08:00

I've been involved in protracted discussions about compensation and headcount - for a new role that I'm taking on - for so long I don't remember what health benefits feel like. All thanks to the commendable tag team efforts of my GM and his able HR manager (who incidentally is one of the promoted, as mentioned in an earlier post).

I've not felt so demoralized for a long time, not since I failed every subject during one dark semester in my undergrad days. I passed lab that semester, in case you were wondering. Not like that helps.

And hence, to cheer me up, I present to you...

An Ode to P**ja, everybody's favourite HR manager. Sung to the tune of Ricky Martin's "She Bangs".

Talk to me
Tell me your game
I got 2 jobs, my pay is still the same
you keep your silence then you drop the bad news like a bomb
Yeah P**ja

Talk to me
Tell me my pay
Is there headcount meant for me today?
Please tell me now cause it's beating my head like a drum
Yeah P**ja

Well if Lady Luck gets on my side
I'll stop buzzing like a hive
I’ll get paid like any regular guy
But she walks like she's Boss, and she talks like she's Boss

She bangs, she bangs
Oh P**ja
And she moves, she moves
I need wages
When we talk about options she just gets all shifty
Like a monkey on the decision tree
She bangs, she bangs
I'm wasted by the way things move, she moves
Please pay me like a regular guy
She reminds me that a contractor's woes' the last thing on her mind

2004-09-17T16:16:00.000+08:00

Warm night and good food
Bad dreams and a tummy ache
Runs never-ending

My first haiku, written in the conventional 5-7-5 format, where lines 1 and 2 are associative, and line 3 is associative with lines 1 and 2 in different ways. I had to read up about writing a haiku before I could write and re-write AND re-write this simple piece, which was inspired by gf's rare bout of diarrhea some months back. Put in a corny way, it was a shitty moment of epiphany, when I realised that my IBS is now so frequent it ceases to be an event.

2004-09-14T16:47:00.000+08:00

A thought just struck me today during a conversation. I'm not sure if it qualifies as an insight, but here it is:

After the exodus, the 4 women who have been retained in or promoted to upper management have one strikingly similar physical attribute. Ranging anywhere from 2 to 8 inches above the navel, depending on individual wear and tear due to the ravage of gravity. And that is if they are in the standing position. If they sit down, the effective distance from said attribute to navel could be cut down to zero. Ok, just to make things clearer for the dense, make that TWO strikingly similar physical attributes.

Hmm. Coincidence, or a reflection of our GM's preference?

2004-09-09T13:19:00.000+08:00

Strategic Thinking for Farmers
... and a Reference for the Rest of Us Cows!

Milk your cows. Hard. If one cow can give 60 litres this week, it can give 90 litres next week, and 135 litres the week after.

Should a cow fail to do so, scold it, pressure it, humiliate it, don't let the cow sleep until it meets quota or dies trying.

Don't feed them if you can get away with it. Keep your costs low.

If a cow dies of hunger, replace the cow with a milkman to sell more milk, and order the other cows to take up the slack in production.

If production suffers, order your milkmen to start producing milk.

Consider outsourcing milk production to freelance cows.

If a cow, out of desperation, adds water to its milk pail, slaughter the cow. Then go to the barn to tell the other cows in the same situation that, as the farmer, you are very busy, so you cows should watch out for dilution incidents and report even if there is the slightest suspicion.

Tell your cows to sleep less and think more about how to generate farm produce other than milk. If they feedback that it's impossible for a milk cow to produce anything other than milk, condemn them for being negative, pessimistic, not strategically inclined and generally making your job as the farmer much harder.

Invite students from the city school to stay at your milk farm for 2 - 3 days to learn about agriculture. Don't let them leave until they come up with strategies to "diversify the revenue sources and innovate new products". Do not let them leave until they do so.

They may come up with ideas like condensed milk and wool, but they will also tell you that these ideas require development and investment. You only need to know the first half. They are students after all, what do they know?

Then order your cows to figure out how to produce condensed milk. This project of strategic value should not affect current and projected growth in milk production. If they feedback that it's impossible for a milk cow to produce anything other than milk, condemn them for being negative, pessimistic, not strategically inclined and generally making your job as the farmer much harder.

Change focus next week. Now they should try to grow wool. If they feedback that it's impossible for a milk cow to produce anything other than milk, condemn them for being negative, pessimistic, not strategically inclined and generally making your job as the farmer much harder.

If a cow wants to go to another farm, call up the farmer for a friendly chat. You know, between farmers. Let slip a hint that the cow that is moving over has mad cow disease.

2004-08-20T14:33:00.000+08:00

After 3 machine washes in the back pockets of various pairs of jeans, and a couple of card-bending accidents involving my butt resting against conveniently ass-high cubicle desks with the card still in the back pocket...

my First ez.link Card

I figured it's time I changed my ez.link card.

Dropped by the Transitlink sales office today. This middle-aged woman was at the counter.

Me: Hi, I need to change my card.
Woman (Takes my card, places it on the reader): Sorry, if still can read I cannot change. Company policy.
Me: Can't you transfer the value to another card? I can't even top it up at the machine anymore, it gets stuck sometimes.
Woman: I can change it, but have to pay. Unless cannot read the card anymore.
Me: But if you can't read the card, then how are you going to refund the value?
Woman (points to computer): Neh, now got computer!
Me (skeptically, complete with raised eyebrow): High tech eh? You sure?
Woman (condescendingly): Yah what, Kom-poo-ter!
Me: okaaay.... I take your word for it.

I was already late for work and there was a queue behind me, so I didn't really press the issue. But I did resolve there and then to make a big stink if ever I encounter service failure arising from my battered, 3 year-old card.

I don't really know what to think of it. Either the counter woman has a religiously misplaced faith in the capabilities of computers to be able to recall records of a card that can no longer be read, or she is actually correct and they have transaction records of every card in their database. Considering that they registered every card to our NRIC when we purchased them initially when they sold the cards at a discount...

It's disturbing to know that information of where I go, any day, any time, is logged somewhere and tied to personally identifiable information.

2004-08-17T16:31:00.000+08:00

This incident happened 2 weeks back. Started with a this phone call on my mobile:

"Hello, is this Trust/Tras/Tuas Tuition Agency?" (couldn't hear properly)
"Er, no. I think you have the wrong number."
"Oh, sorry" - click.

2 seconds later

"Hello, is this a tuition agency?"
"No, you just called the same number earlier. Wrong number"
"Oh sorry, is this 97654321?"
"Yes, but it's not a tuition agency. Where did you get this number?"
"Oh! But this number is on the flyer in my mailbox leh. Wrong number ah? Sorry ah"
"Wait! What flyer?"
- click.

Couple of minutes later...

"Hello, I am calling for tuition teacher. Is this..."
"No, wrong number. Did you get it from a flyer?"
"Flyer...? Ah yes, are you the tuition teacher?"
"No, someone put the wrong number on the flyer. This is not a tuition agency."
"Long number ah? Ok solli ah." - click.

And so on. 3 whole nights. Some at 1am!

Turns out that my phone number appeared in flyers blanketing the whole Bedok area. Some idiot did that 2 weeks back, put in the wrong number for his tuition agency. I received like 20 calls asking if I gave tuition or needed tutors, and another 20 calls from the same pple who called back cos they simply couldn’t believe me when I told them some idiot put the wrong number on his flyers. And this doesn't include the SMSes at roaming charges of 63 cents per SMS, as I was in JB when some of them came in.

Some of them even insisted on telling me why they needed a tutor: “PSLE coming la, and my son not doing very well in school. Do you teach English?” - and this AFTER I told them it’s the wrong number. I wonder if the whole spiel was rehearsed and memorised, cos they obviously didn’t respond to what I said.

If I ever find out who's the idiot who sent out the flyer, I'm gonna make a flyer for a home delivery chinese food menu with unbeatable prices and put HIS number on it. At first I thought I'd make him a pimp advertising social escort services, but I guess the delivery menu will deliver a higher ROI.

I wonder how many flyers he sent to get 20 responses. Pretty respectable response rate.

2004-08-02T17:05:00.000+08:00

My Messenger status message today reads, "Not well. At work. DON'T CALL."

Sounds worse than I actually feel, but I just couldn't resist a not-so-private dig at my HR manager, whose status message reads, "Not well. At home..Call on mobile."

On Messenger, where all my colleagues can read both status messages, that's nothing less than a declaration of war in the language of office politics.

Background story. I caught the flu bug last week from a colleague, and it acted up over the weekend. Was feeling damn sorry for myself and would've stayed home to spare my other colleagues, but our dear HR manager had once ruled on the subject, and I quote, "sure you could call in sick, but I'd have to deduct it from your annual leave since you're a contractor. Company policy, you know, nothing I can do about it. And you shouldn't come in when you're not feeling well, cos you should be functioning 100% at work. Oh, no leave? Then I'll have to deduct your pay."

Of course, since she's managed to somehow wrangle a permanent position, she's entitled to call in sick without any leave deducted, and I'm willing to bet not even her medical leave is touched, since she's the ultimate record keeper. After all, who polices the police?

Then again, she could also argue that her presence is not really required in the office, since her job scope involves doing nothing more than, "I dunno, I don't have that, I'm not sure, maybe you should check with ______ instead."

So. I decided to sacrifice my colleagues in this guerilla war for justice, and come into the office. Spread the bug around. Biological warfare.

Suggestions from an ex-colleague in Sydney:

Lick all the glasses in the kitchen cabinet.
Sneeze into my hand and rub my palm all over the lift buttons.
Walkabouts. Talk to as many people as possible. Better yet, sneeze on the receptionist and let her do the job.

Sometimes, office warfare veterans astound me with their tactical brilliance and experience.

2004-06-27T23:03:00.000+08:00

3 reasons why I should hate laksa but conveniently forget until the next time I satisfy my laksa craving:

1) chilli flakes on the teeth that everyone’s embarrassed to tell you
2) burps smelling of - worse, tasting of – stale sour coconut milk
3) fiery ass-burning shit which usually comes with a stomachache, courtesy of my IBS.

2004-06-21T13:57:00.000+08:00

Just watched Japanese Story yesterday. There's this scene where this Japanese guy is trying to explain the subtlety of the word "Hai". And I was wondering, how do the Japanese use Messenger if everything is "Hai"?

An illustration:

Jap1: So...
Jap2: Yes?
Jap1: Understand?
Jap2: No... (But they can't say no, so it's still yes in Japanese)
Jap1: Good! (which means Tough luck, you can't say no I'm gonna take it as a yes, sucker!)
Jap2: Well... (Well That's what you think you fucking moron)

translates to

Jap1: Hai...
Jap2: Hai?
Jap1: Hai?
Jap2: Hai...
Jap1: Hai!
Jap2: Hai...

It's tough enough having to understand their spoken word. Using Messenger could bring down empires.

2004-06-14T15:01:00.000+08:00

To the guy who urinated on the toilet seat in the 5th floor washroom:

Your purple-brownish urine stains indicate that:

1) You should drink more water
2) And lay off the prune juice
3) You may have internal bleeding.

Go see a doctor immediately. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200. DO drop by the toilet and clean up the disgusting mess you created before you go, you diseased fuck.

Isn't it amazing how some guys can pee at least 5 times a day for more than a quarter of a century and still miss? One would think that all that practice would count towards overcoming flawed genes in the aiming department.

2004-05-28T11:47:00.000+08:00

It's amazing how I can still wake up on the wrong side of the bed when one side is against the wall. Nasty mood today. Steer clear.

2004-05-27T19:35:00.000+08:00

Sometimes, we make choices that our friends don't understand, or maybe they understand the reasons but simply consider it a bad decision because their considerations aren't subjected to the same constraints present in the same situation.

And sometimes, friends just choose to hear what they want to hear and then form their own conclusion and judgement about your actions. "If I were him/her, I wouldn't have done it this way but hey, it's his/her life." Sure, they're entitled to it, no issues with that.

What's irksome is that they then proceed to share their brilliant sweeping statements with others, picking the juicy parts of a story and leaving out the background or whatever justifications the friend may have had for making such a decision. And you just can't help but feel that it's more for the sake of telling a good story about themselves at the expense of a friend's already depressed emotional state.

They don't realise that, sometimes, not saying anything is infinitely better than saying it for the shitty sake of saying it. But that's another blog altogether.

Sometimes friends just piss you off in ways that they don't realise.

2004-05-24T13:02:00.000+08:00

I was reading Mark Haddon's The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time and came across this classic probability puzzle that I first encountered in my college Statistics class. It's called The Monty Hall Problem, credited to Marilyn vos Savant. This is the version from my old Stats textbook. The question is:

"Suppose you're on a game show, and you're given a choice of 3 doors. Behind one door is a car; behind the others, goats. You pick a door - say #1 - and the host, who knows what's behind the doors, opens another door - say #3 - which has a goat. He then says to you, "Do you want to pick door #2?" Is it to your advantage to switch your choice?"

vos Savant said yes. Raised a nationwide ruckus in the US involving most of the letters in the alphabet, but mostly Ph.D.'s. All the Ph.D.s said it was 50:50 so no point switching, and they were wrong.

Anyway, the Curious Incident gave the conditional probability solution which I totally couldn't understand, so I decided to write a macro on Excel, a simulation model for the problem. Mainly to verify the answer which was quite counter-intuitive, but partly also to see if I could still do it.

The puzzle aside, Curious Incident is one of the best books I've read in a while.

2004-05-21T12:19:00.000+08:00

I present to you Minnie's* Gems of Wisdom™. A collaborative effort with VW. I've provided translations to help you appreciate the wisdom behind the mangled language.

Minnie's Gems of Wisdom™

On the subject of the advertiser submitting late creatives and hence sabotaging their own campaign:

"Their their orn worst enemy."

Translation:
"They are their own worst enemy."

On including research as a value-added service for clients, which may show bad results as well as good:

"It's a daabel-edge sward."

Translation:
"It's a double-edged sword."

On her career skills:

"Weer sells peeper, right? We booshit peeper awe the time!"

Translation:
"We're sales people, right? We bullshit people all the time!"

On her preferred methods of maintaining client relationships:

"I went the booze-ups and the jarnkets! Fuck the premiums!"

Translation:
"I want the booze-ups and the junkets! Fuck the premiums!"

On the idea of limiting the types of rich media format creatives that we should accept and process:

"Nor we keh-not say Nor to inorvehtion! Yew can't knock down imagination!"

Translation:
"No we cannot say No to innovation! You can't knock down imagination!"

-----

Finally I've decided to introduce Minnie's Lingo Primer™ to the world. Stay tuned.

VW talked me into it. She's like the red devil that sits on your shoulder convincing you to do bad things against your better sense. Just add horns and swishing tail. 3-pronged fork not included.

2004-05-21T12:10:00.000+08:00

More Copacabana!

VW and I were walking back to the office after the offsite together with 2 other colleagues. VW noticed what Ros was wearing and started commenting about it. So I started this, first 2 lines only, and VW challenged me to finish it...

Her name was Rosa, she was a salesgirl
With her purple pants so tight, made her ass one goddamn sight
Walking with Stanley
On th'elevator
Tight pants are cool but in purple it's cooler
Her name was Rosa, one fine mama

2004-05-20T17:03:00.000+08:00

Was at my company's media sales team offsite yesterday. Random short takes on some of the things that happened.

-----

RV, BG and Goggles were sitting next to each other in the conference room after lunch. All three decided to whip out their PDA phones to check messages. All 3 are using the Handspring Treo. I called them The Treo Trio, but VW rolled her eyes at that.

-----

Advice to all public speakers: Don't pull your pants when your ass is facing the audience.

-----

SMS conversation with Jaws, who didn't have to attend the boring offsite that I was stuck at.

J: Are you at the offsite? How is it? Is BG there? (BG is her boss)
S: Yes. Boring. Yes.
J: Ok! Hee u said the same thing as vw. Good offsite. 5th floor so quiet i'm getting tons of work done (Ed: this is not exactly the original comment, but close enough)
S: Fuck you. Make an appointment
J Har? Why you scold me?
S: cos you show off
J: I never *sob*

VW was sitting beside me and saw what I sent.

VW: Ha! What if she says next Tuesday?
S: Ask her where and go la. I have no qualms nor scruples.
VW: Gross!
S: Why? She's not ugly you know.
VW: Gross. That's so... eee... incestuous.

Actually, I agree.

-----

VW and I were taking the lift up to New Asia Bar to join the rest of the guys for the drinks session to bid farewell to a dear colleague, and to welcome a new colleague, G. It being a long way up, VW and I started one of our trademark conversations about nothing.

S: Get ready for the pop in the ears.
VW: Do you think it'll stop halfway?
S: No I don't think so.
VW: Imagine what if the lift got stuck halfway?
S: I think that's what this is for. (pointing at the alarm bell button on the panel)
VW: Worse, what if we get stuck in between floors.
S: I don't think it'd make a diff, since this lift doesn't open on any other floors on the way up. Between floors or not the shaft's got no opening. (After a silent pause) Actually it'd be funny if we were stuck in between floors and the lift's nearly there and we wouldn't know about it.

We reached the top floor and and the lift door opened so naturally the conversation ended. We stepped out of the lift with this angmoh couple after us. I don't know about VW but I was wondering what the other couple in the lift was thinking while we were having our conversation about being trapped in a high speed lift 70 floors up. We went into the bar, met the guys, sat down and there they were, the same angmoh couple. Our new colleague G and his wife.

-----

Conversation with NH, who is the GM, aka El Kapitan, aka Big Boss Big. He was the speaker at the offsite. For 8 hours I didn't say a word. Then at the drinks session I got ambushed.

NH: So how did you find the session today?
S: Oh... it was, uhm, educational
NH: Didn't realise that there were so many things going on at the same time did you?
S: Yeah! Tell me about it, It was total information overload. By 3pm I swing my head and it like, ooh, vertigo.
NH: Vertigo! hahaha Vertigo!

In case you're wondering I hadn't started drinking yet when I said that.

2004-05-14T16:48:00.000+08:00

Expectations Management Lesson 1

Using Mythical Mumbo-Jumbo.

This lesson teaches you how to manage timeline expectations of sales pple by using several myths, separately or in combination. Examples:

1) The system is unstable
2) I have a lot of work on my hands
3) The process is long and arduous

For best results it is advised that you explain in tedious detail what steps are involved with the work you have on your hands, or the steps in "the long and arduous process". It is ironically easy to manage the typically high expectations of impatient people with this method, also known as the "Bore Them Till Their Eyes Glaze Over" Method. As for the system stability issues, well... computer reliability is a standard myth. So there you go.

Unfortunately this is mostly theory so far, gleaned from my observations of many practitioners in this office. I would try to apply them on the sales people, but my boss reads this blog.

2004-05-14T13:51:00.000+08:00

A huge fire broke out at the disco at the end of my street, a converted warehouse/factory right next to New York Hotel. Explosions woke me up. Exciting.

Just when I've about gotten over the bad decision to buy the Nokia phone, I found that the clip-on earpiece is coming loose 48 hours after I bought it. As a result the right earpiece don't sound so good anymore. And guess what? I also just found out I can't even go to Bangkok cos gf's parents said no. So, in the end it was an all-round bad decision with no upside. Damn Starhub. Damn Nokia.

2004-05-13T11:47:00.000+08:00

Complete and total capitulation. After months of waiting for THE mobile phone I finally bought a Nokia 6230. Integrated camera and video recorder, MP3 player, Bluetooth enabled... what's not to like other than the fact that it looks like any other Nokia? And they even gave me 2 Valuair tickets to Bangkok free with the purchase of the mobile. That's the good news.

The bad news is Nokia definitely managed to live up to its reputation for badly written software that requires patches almost as often as Microsoft Windows and poor product quality. In less than 24 hours after buying it, I've managed to scratch the back cover after 4 persons have tried - and failed - to remove it. I finally succeeded, but now the cover feels like it's starting to come loose. I nearly broke the clip-on earpiece cos it wouldn't plug in properly unless I got the action *just right*. Got conned by a Sim Lim Square hack into buying a 256MB MMC card that my phone can read but cannot support (the phone couldn't even detect the cheapo 128MB card that they had).

It's been 2 years since they introduced their first color screen and still no brightness/contrast adjustment functions. And the half-baked music player app is driving me nuts. ESPECIALLY the music player.

Where do I start?
1) The basics - no forward/rewind functions. (Update 16 May: I have just found the forward/rewind key by accident. I have to press and hold the up/down keypad instead of the left/right.)
2) It keeps reverting back to the default folder on the handset(which has all of 8MB), rather than where the music would most logically be stored - on the MMC card.
3) No shortcut key that I can program to access the music player.
4) Can't edit the playlist on the phone. I can have 20 songs on my MMC card and no way to listen to them if I have no PC.
5) Even if I did have a PC, the Nokia PC Suite's Audio Manager isn't much smarter either. I cannot create a playlist for the songs that I already have on my mobile; I need to create the playlist for songs on the hard drive and then copy the playlist over to the mobile so that the Audio Manager can copy each track from the hard drive to the phone. Ingenious.

Whoever said that a Nokia is more user-friendly really doesn't know what he's talking about or doesn't really use the phone to its full potential. Nokia has gotten most of the basics right, but the new multimedia stuff falls way below expectations. They are developing apps based the continual refinement principle but the execution is appallingly cavalier. Releasing functionally incomplete apps is inexcusable. My old Moto had limited functions but at least they all worked well and were easily accessible in order of priority once you had the UI figured out. I dread finding out what other surprises they have in store for me when I get GPRS up and running.

Seriously, the trip to Bangkok had better be damn super good to make up for this.

2004-05-12T11:01:00.000+08:00

It rained! It rained! I've broken the curse!

Or so I thought. Mysteriously, the umbrella was missing from my bag when I woke up on the bus and saw huge fat drops of rain splattering against the windshield.

I'm actually feeling quite freaked out cos I can't recall removing the umbrella from my bag last night. Yet at the same time I can't help but wonder if little occurrences like this are entirely within my Design limits.

2004-05-11T17:36:00.000+08:00

Woohoo! I'm on a blog-roll today. Found this article, Marque cars needed for top govt officers, on The Straits Times Interactive. The link to the article won't be accessible after a few days so you'll just have to refer to the print version.

My take on some of the interesting excerpts:

The Public Service Division (PSD) of the Prime Minister's Office said that since 1989, the Government had been granting car allowances to 'a handful of very senior civil servants' instead of giving them staff cars.

'This is not unlike the practice of some multinational corporations, where the senior management is provided with a car allowance,' the spokesman said.

I didn't know that our Public Service Division has a profit motive, "not unlike some multinational corporations". If my company gives me a car allowance you can definitely be sure that I won't be getting enough for a marque car unless there are practical reasons, e.g. to enhance the prestige and signal the good performance of the company.

Mindef said there was no extravagance nor misuse. Of the bids it received, the Audi came out the cheapest. With maintenance costs included, it was more than 20 per cent cheaper than a Japanese model, which Mindef did not name.

Which one? Lexus?

Military commanders, it said, need the cars to rush back to camp or anywhere else in an emergency, and to make their presence felt among their men.

It said: 'An easily identifiable car helps to communicate the commander's presence. The presence of the car informs the troops that their commander is now with them even as they carry out their training and operational duties.'

From a purely operational point of view, the army has either a lot of emergencies or a really expensive disaster recovery plan. And it says a lot about the quality of our military leadership - and incidently, troop discipline - if a commander needs a marque car to make his presence felt.

Mindef said it allocates cars to fewer than 70 officers, and they have to be at least brigade commanders. Division commanders get Audis. Chiefs of service and more senior commanders get Mercs, but these were not bought through a competitive tender.

"You know what? I'll shoot that Merc first. That's gotta be the Big Fish in there," said the kampung terrorist with the grenade launcher.

2004-05-11T16:33:00.000+08:00

I remember how I used to hate reading the newspapers as a kid. My mother had a newspaper subscription to the New Straits Times, which I neither asked for nor wanted, cos c'mon, newspapers were boring! Even the funnies weren't that great. My mother never read it either; she couldn't read a word of English. So we had stacks of unread newspapers lying around, a constant reminder for my mother to nag at how much money I was wasting because I didn't read the papers. Typical parent logic.

I don't understand the grown-up fascination with the papers. Notice how the papers used to be boring when we were children, but now we would willingly spend 2 whole hours reading them from front to back. Don't we have anything more interesting to do now that we're grown up? Assuming that the newspapers haven't changed all that much over the years, what does that say about our quality of life?

Of course, it could just be that we understand more now that we're older, and more things make sense, hence newspapers have become more interesting as we grow older. So what do we understand from the papers? Some of the headlines today: "Man dies after diving into waist-deep pool", "She's so brazen", "Man sues wife, 3 family members over $1.8m house", "Canny Ong Murder: She asked to be left to die in manhole"... Newspapers should really come with at least a PG-13 rating.

2004-05-11T15:45:00.000+08:00

Dear Engineers,

I am sending this to you in the hopes that, upon your receipt of this email, the system will miraculously resuscitate itself, as it has on the previous few occasions. However, I hope you can also look into it in case sending this email alone fails to break the spell. Thanks.

Shien

2004-05-11T10:42:00.000+08:00

Forgot to take the umbrella out of my bag this morning. And the sky forgot to rain.

2004-05-10T16:52:00.000+08:00

Maybe I shouldn't bring my umbrella tomorrow so that it'll rain. It's 33° out there. Mad hot.

2004-05-10T16:16:00.000+08:00

Saw a buddhist nun on the road yesterday. She was driving a Mazda 6. Not your basic model, it was one of those 2.3l go-faster models that my boss just recently upgraded to. Zoom-Zoom. It was metallic grey in colour, which totally matched the colour of her grey robes. Talk about accessorizing, grey robes with car to match. Plugged into her ear was a mobile phone hands-free earpiece into which she was talking animatedly. The perfect visual of the up-and-coming executive, except for the fact that she was a nun.

Well, it's not exactly a Merc, and it's a decent, understated car. So why am I fussing about it? In any case, the temple probably owns it, not her. My point is, why not a Daewoo? Or even a Vios? $40k saved for the same function. I can only imagine how much good the extra $40k could have accomplished.

You know, organized religion is getting as bad as NKF, if not worse. Wonder if I'll get sued for expressing such an opinion. I mean, they didn't even give face to THE Straits Times, let alone a blog.

2004-05-07T14:01:00.000+08:00

A new cafeteria just opened downstairs on the ground floor. Estelle77 or something. Indonesian food. Apparrently the oil fumes from the cafeteria is wafting upward into every nook and cranny of the building. Now everything in the office smells like fried fish, and we're on the 5th floor. Even the lift smells like fried fish.

Guess what? I hate fish. Even if I didn't before this, I would by now.

Tried the food the other day. No surprises. Ever walk into one of these joints serving national cuisine - Thai, Indonesian, Vietnamese etc. - and all you can think of is, "you have a culture that dates back centuries and this is the best excuse you've got for food?" At least the Japanese have got something going. Food preparation for the Japs is practically a religious ritual with knives. And all that raw stuff. Ugh. Much as I dislike fish and seafood in general, I just have to admire a culture that has trained its collective stomach to embrace food preparation that dates way back to the days before fire was discovered... "We've got no money for charcoal, so you damn well better just close your eyes and stuff that raw fish in your mouth and tell yourself it's good." (picture the chef holding up his knives) "I don't want to hear anything else."

2004-04-23T12:29:00.000+08:00

The questions refer to, in order,

"Copacabana"
"Copacabana"
"Can't Smile Without You"
"It's A Miracle"
"Freddie Said"

No answers will be provided cos if you still can't find out after I have given the hints then you're either not interested to know or you don't deserve to know.

2004-04-22T16:53:00.000+08:00

My contribution to American Idol: Barry Manilow night. Even though I don't watch it.

Shien's "Barry Manilow Pop Quiz":

What's her name?
a) Lola
b) Lolita
c) Sandy
d) Sarah
e) Huh?

Who shot who?
a) Tony shot Rico
b) Lola shot Rico
c) Rico shot Lola
d) Rico shot Tony
e) What the heck you talking about?

You know, I can't smile without ______.
a) ... Prozac
b) ... cracking my face
c) ... you
d) ... faking it

Geography question: From Boston to ... ________ ?
a) Minnesota
b) Denver
c) Langkawi
d) Hawaii
e) Purgatory

What should Freddie have said?
a) I got the 411 in my head
b) I'll get the 411 to the feds
c) I'll keep the 411 in my head
d) I'll bring the popcorn and the beer

Hints tomorrow.

This post has been certified I.D.: 10-T-proof. Thanks to Jaws for being the test subject.

2004-04-22T12:12:00.000+08:00

Just got me a Gmail account. 1000 MB!! Woohoo! That's 500x bigger than my Hotmail account, which I've relegated to spam-handling.

Then again, I don't quite know what to do with it though. 1 GB sounds so... intimidating. Feels like I have some expectations to meet now. Like if I don't use even half the quota, will it look like I'm underutilizing it? Do I have to start attaching big-ass media files now just because I can? You know, it's a lot like sitting behind the wheel of a 450bhp Ferrari. Will there be sniggers if I drive it like an Accent, or do I have to take that turn at 120kmh?

2004-04-15T11:39:00.000+08:00

A notice I put up on the office refrigerator.

if you're too busy to make ice, you're too busy to take ice.

Where does ice come from?

Contrary to popular belief, there are no ice-making fairies in this office.
Every cube of ice you take was made by someone you work with.

Who makes ice?

You want ice, you make ice.

How to make ice?

1) Check that the ice cubes in the tray are fully frozen. If not, go to step 6.
2) Empty the ice tray into the ice container provided.
3) Take the empty tray in your hand and walk to the water cooler
4) Fill up the tray with water from the blue tap. Do not fill to the brim.
5) Carefully walk back to the refrigerator with the water-filled tray in your hand.
6) Put the ice tray back in the freezer.
7) Close the freezer door.

When to make ice?

You take ten cubes, you make ice.
You take two cubes, you make ice.
You take one cube, you make ice.
You take ice, you make ice.

There’s no ice? Make ice.

What ice?

If you don’t take ice, this does not concern you.

2004-04-14T17:20:00.000+08:00

That was a prime example of what I'm "capable" of churning out when I'm less than inspired. This lack of inspiration has been going on for a month now, due to a variety of excuses. My PC died again just 2 months after changing the motherboard, my DSL connection went down 3 weeks before that, my workload is ramping up, the roof is leaking again, the humidity's driving my thermostat crazy, and I just hit 70 on the gravity scale for the first time in my life. I'm feeling tired most of the time. Probably due to all that extra weight I now have to lug around. Good thing I'm sweating so much more now. Keeps the weight down.

Anyway, rather than to keep writing stuff that I can't bear to read, I guess I should give it a rest and come back to this blog only when I have interesting nothings to relate.

Plus, Minnie found out about this blog.

2004-04-14T17:10:00.000+08:00

gf and I, we were looking through an ad for a marketing position. Looking for a person to handle direct marketing, events, newsletters, website etc. Pretty much a one-man marketing team. Which I guess prompted her to comment, "heh, pretty KBL."

Huh? KBL? Took me more than a few seconds to realize that what she meant was BKL, or "bao ka liao", which means "to do everything" in Hokkien.

Pretty versatile, these 3 letters, when i think about it. There's KBL - "kua bo lor", literally "see no road" in Hokkien. And BKL. Then there's LBK - "liak bo kiu", literally "catch no ball", or cannot understand. And then there's LKB - "lao kuay bu". This one's the best. It means "old chicken", a derogatory term used to describe an old hag, or an old whore. And of course, the heartland's most oft-used BLK, the abbreviation for "Block".

B, K, L - Singapore's favourite letters.

2004-03-19T15:51:00.000+08:00

"Peh-jing for owner of car numbow ASH-SEE-DABEW NAI-SHABUM-GEEROW-EGG-HATCH peace come to the infomation conterw."

Wonder if the car owner showed up at the counter. Or if he even knew it was his car.

2004-03-19T15:45:00.000+08:00

Met up with Pinky* for dinner last night. Talking about nothing as usual, and somehow it got around to junk mail from SDU. Being non-Singaporean, I don't get automatic membership in SDU upon graduation from a local university. So she was telling me all about the "fun" activities listed in the magazine.

P: "Eh, got french lessons also. I like french. No, actually I want to learn Thai. Then I can go there again and bargain my ass off."
Me (stunned for a second): "You want to WHAT?"
P (realising the slip): "NOOOO! That's NOT what I meant!"

After laughing for a good minute or so...

P: "You idiot! You know that's not what I meant! I meant at the weekend market!"

Maybe the weekend rates are better for bargain asses. I dunno.

* This being a potentially embarassing and possibly defining conversation, she's requested to be known only as Pinky.

2004-03-18T16:29:00.000+08:00

somehow you've managed to stumble across Quizilla!

Well, actually I didn't. qoomonster mentioned it on her blog, and having nothing to do after e-filing my taxes (grave-robbers!) I kinda developed a headache fighting sleep in the office, so I decided oh what the hell.

You are Neverwhere! You are dark, intriguing, and lenient. You might make people feel uncomfortable, either because you are intimidating or you dress differently possibly both. In reality you are a nice person, but people tend to make snap judgments about you and think they can push you around. You probably are idealistic and dream of a utopian society. The friends that you have are the kind that last forever and you are fun and easy-going when people bother to get to know you.

*~Which Neil Gaiman book are you?~* brought to you by Quizilla

So. I'm dark, eh? But what kind of dark person am I? Wonder no more, for I found the answer.

Dark magician. You love the dark because of it's beauty and just the life that no-one else sees. Mysterious, calm, quiet... But that doesn't mean you're not friendly!

What kind of dark person are you? brought to you by Quizilla

Yawn. Boring. I love the dark because it's dark. And I like the night, when things like this come to my mind:

Her name was Lola, she was a bouncer
With shoulders like a bear's and her knuckles down to there
Built like a Teamster
Grunting gorilla
Face like a schnauzer and fist like a boulder
Here at the Copa, don't cross her path

- sing to the tune of Copacabana

Childish, isn't it. Not true. My inner child is already old enough to watch Saving Private Ryan.

My inner child is sixteen years old! Life's not fair! It's never been fair, but while adults might just accept that, I know something's gotta change. And it's gonna change, just as soon as I become an adult and get some power of my own.

How Old is Your Inner Child? brought to you by Quizilla

Some other quizzes. I like the grammar aptitude quiz best.

You are naturally born with a gift, whether it be poetry, writing or song. You love beauty and creativity, and usually are highly intelligent. Others view you as mysterious and dreamy, yet also bold since you hold firm in your beliefs.

What Type of Soul Do You Have ? brought to you by Quizilla

You are the grammar Fuhrer. All bow to your authority. You will crush all the inferior people under the soles of your jackboots, and any who question your motives will be eliminated. Your punishment is being the bane of every other person's existence, because you're constantly contradicting stupidity. Everyone will be gunning for you. Your dreams of a master race of spellers and grammarians frighten the masses. You must always watch your back. If only your power could be used for good instead of evil.

What is your grammar aptitude? brought to you by Quizilla

Ghost or spirit: You are a lost soul. Very calm and sweet, you are often the one who asks: What if? With a clever mind, you want to explore the world on a different level. Without the answers, you aren't ready to move on. You are most likely very creative and find yourself thinking things through on a different level.

**Where will you go when you die?**(now with pics) brought to you by Quizilla

Don't you just love personality quizzes? They make you feel soooo good about yourself after that. Hey, a healthy dose of narcissism never killed anyone, except maybe Narcissus.

2004-03-12T14:50:00.000+08:00

This is a conversation during lunch with colleagues recently. Took me a while to work up the courage to post it and risk the Wrath of Minnie* if she ever finds out. I was contemplating a post with a full version of "Minnie's Lingo Primer™" , but I think this is all my guts can take for now.

Giovanni was telling us that he was going to Bali for the weekend.

Minnie: "Orh yewar goin to Barlee? can yew help me buy batik panties if yew see nice wahns?"
Giovanni (can't decide if it's a joke): "Erm... that's a bit personal isn't it?"
Minnie: "Nor la, I trast your tase. Jas get me warne orh two that you tink looks good."
Giovanni (raised eyebrow): "You sure?"
Minnie: "Yes of cos!"
Giovanni (straight serious face): "Panties."

Minnie looks stunned for a few seconds, before venturing a reply, "Panties?"

Everyone else at the table heard batik panties. Apparently she was talking about batik PAINTINGS.

* As usual the names are changed to protect their identities. They are the same Minnie and Giovanni mentioned in an earlier post.

2004-03-08T16:26:00.000+08:00

My brother just set up his new XBox over the weekend. Exciting. I had my first go at a console game since Street Fighter 2 and Sonic the Hedgehog on the Sega console 15 years ago. The Need for Speed Underground. Woohoo! It's like watching The Fast and the Furious and Too Fast Too Furious back-to-back on repeat, without the corny bits like "I live my life a 1/4 mile at a time".

I also realised that I am so totally out of phase with the tech curve. The evidence:

01) As previously mentioned, my 3-yr old Motorola. WAP enabled!
02) My first PDA that I'm still using - a 4MB IBM Workpad C3. Black and White display.
03) My first MP3 player that I'm still using - a 4-yr old Creative Nomad 2. Got a life of its own. Decides all by itself when it wants to stop, play, pause and adjust the volume.
04) Before that was a 11-yr old Philips CD player that ran on 4 AA batteries. At the end of its life it developed an uncontrollable stutter and had to be put to sleep.
05) My first DVD player just last month.
06) All my watches are at least 10 yrs old, and more than half of them are wind-up.
07) My first blog(oh-so-2-years-ago), started only this year.
08) My HTML editor is still Notepad.exe.
09) No microwave oven yet.
10) What are digicams?
11) And of course, the latest being the XBox. I guess I can probably skip the microwave oven now that this is in; just leave the XBox running for a couple of hours and I can start cooking on it.

I wouldn't even have 2) and 3) if not for the fact that my friend upgraded and "loaned" them to me. Not too sure how to tell him that they have no more salvage value.

2004-03-05T17:07:00.000+08:00

Turning 30 in another year's time. Whooey. Due for a mid-life crisis, if I take into account my enjoyably unhealthy lifestyle. Don't feel older, don't feel wiser, yet something feels different.

If only I could know where it all went wrong. That would be nice, but I don't think there's any one moment that you could point to and say, "That's where the rot set in." Life just gradually overtook my dreams and I didn't even notice it go by. Did I even ever have a dream? I don't know, and I can't remember either. And I do not think I am alone, which scares me more.

Maybe that's why other people have families. And children. Especially children. They are the greatest escape of all. Maybe when they are little, people love them for who they are. But as they grow up, I think they often have to carry their parents' dreams too, as often as not. Dreams are more possible carried by children. And parents who have forgotten how to dream end up pinning their hopes on their children to be whatever they are not, instead of whatever they dreamed of being.

It's not people without children who are sad, it's people without dreams.

2004-02-24T16:15:00.000+08:00

For those act busy moments in the office...

This break out took me an hour to "engineer". It's called the Crimson Room. Very nifty Flash techniques used.

If you're into exasperation as a way to kill time, then this Mystery Of Time And Space is for you. Another break out game, just many more doors to open. Took me >3 hours to get to level 12 before I got stuck. Felt giddy after that.

For saner people who want to kill time more brainlessly, try either spanking the monkey (all-time favourite with my engineer colleagues) or batting the penguin (another favourite). The upside is you can get all the fun without the frustration and emotional baggage. The downside is potential wrist injury if you do it too much.

Anybody knows how to get through the damn green wall on level 12 MOTAS, please please please tell me. I can't sleep can't eat can't work.

2004-02-23T02:33:00.000+08:00

I was discussing this with my gf while walking down Orchard Rd on Saturday and indulging in our favourite pastime: ogling. Before you say that by mentioning her I'm just dragging her in to justify my ogling activities, let me state that usually I'm the one who has to stop her from staring. And she reads this blog too, so I'm not bluffing. Anyways if you're reading this means she's already approved it for publication. My one-person MITA and Censorship Board. Actually she says I did drag her in just to justify my ogling, but hey, it still passed the Censor intact.

Another disclaimer. The similarity in subject matter with the previous post is purely coincidental. Really.

Back to the story. We were taking a slow aimless walk to nowhere while talking about nothing and ogling at everything and here's one of the observations we talked about. The topic of our discussion: there is a whole generation of boys - and men - who grew up on a visual diet of Wonderbras. Ever since the Wonderbra revolution has come and gone, every female upwards of 13 years old now wears some form of a padded, underwired, push-up bra. Thanks to the marvels of engineering that went into all the struts and straps and suspensions and bridges, nobody knows what breasts really look like anymore. They could be saggy, floppy or even non-existent and they'd all look the same once they strap on one of those things. And even the women who get their boobs done, get them done in the "ideal" shape of the wonderbra. Men of yore celebrated diversity. Now practically every woman's chest looks the same and regrettably, the men now probably get turned on more by the wonderbra than the bounty under it. Who wouldn't? It's all they have left to ogle at! Used to be that, with experience, you could tell with some measure of accuracy what they looked like. What used to be a game of skill has now become a game of chance.

How did we get to the point where a woman's breasts pushed up to her neck is considered a turn-on?

Another phenomenon I've observed: women who are embarassed about their nipples showing when wearing a sports bra, but need to wear one for exercise, so they wear a bra, which is usually their wonderbra, UNDER the sports bra. Two bras? Isn't that a bit tight? How do you exercise with your chest tightly squeezed and forcibily re-arranged? How do you even breathe?

Personally I prefer the hang loose theory, but I understand that this can be quite uncomfortable from C-cup onwards. Especially when you're still 30 yards away from the bus stop and your bus is just pulling in. For the guys that can be a sight for sore eyes, but for the woman it's a sure recipe for sore tits. So I guess if you need a bra, you should wear one, but if you don't need one for support, I certainly don't see why women should perform chest-binding to conform to whatever social standards of decency we have, which was probably set years ago by some secret cabal of old married women who had to wear them to stop their own from flapping and couldn't stand their husbands ogling at the bounties of female youth.

Give them room to breathe and grow. Let them get some sun once in a while. A healthy tit is an attractive tit.

2004-02-20T03:45:00.000+08:00

Some news updates.

I am not going to say anything about William Hung the American Idol reject, other than this. I hope he's profiting from his infamy. 4 million hits a day on a site dedicated to him! Don't think even the US presidential candidates get that kind of hit rates. My advice to the presidential hopefuls: Join the American Idol and do a William Hung. Then be positive when you lose.

About Janet Jackson's breast-baring incident... hmm. All I can say is, it was real bouncy. Nice.

And the 2 topless sunbathing tourists at East Coast? Those looked real nice too, just too bad the picture on The New Paper was dithered.

As for local DJ Suzanne Walker's breast-baring act at MTV Asia Awards? That was unfortunate, cos there wasn't much tit and it wasn't very nice. But at least she was positive enough about it to make a joke granted that the humour was a bit off the wall and carried too far. My take on it is, leave it to the men. A man can still bare his chest as a joke, but a woman lifts her t-shirt to show a hand-covered tit and you have other women calling for a public lynching like the letter in Streats by a Ms Nancy Tan calling for authorities to charge the DJ with outrage of modesty. (Streats Vocal, Feb 18, "Act against breast-baring at MTV Asia event")

As for the teenage oral sex fairy who went around giving blowjobs to the men she met in online chatrooms... and got a couple of them jailed for "carnal intercourse against the order of nature". And they got off "lucky", because the fact that she was underage at the time of the offence was not highlighted to the judge and hence not taken into account during sentencing. But in the first place, "... against the order of nature"? Isn't it men's nature to be able to stick it into any hole they can?

Let this be a lesson to all the men out there. There's no such thing as a free blowjob. And there are always hidden costs to online freebies.

2004-02-19T13:34:00.000+08:00

There's this security guard who works the day shift at the lift lobby of my office building. Malay guy in his late 50's or early 60's, supplementing his pension income with this job. He's pretty friendly, so we usually chat about nothing when I'm downstairs waiting for the lift or taking a break, to the limits of his command of English and my even more pitiful command of Malay.

Saw him checking out his reflection at the polished steel panelling on one of the walls as I was coming in to work, so I said,

"Eh, no need la, good looking already"
"Haha, no la, I don't like the small mirror la. Big mirror better. There, the one in the lift? Best."
"Then you stand at the lift whenever you need the mirror la"

And then he said something unexpectedly profound (by my standards), "I wonder ah, how would people in the world look like if there were no mirrors?"

There was no immediate comeback to this that I could think of, and as I thought more about it while waiting for the lift - which wasn't every long as the building's only 6 floors high and that suits me fine cos I can't sustain prolonged bouts of thinking - the implications were actually quite deep. Without mirrors, our whole social structure would change. Hanging snot would be less of a turn-off, peeking boogers would be rampant, messy hair would be a default setting etc. And as a reflection of today's society (no pun intended), it's sobering to realize how much we depend on appearances to tell people who we are and what we do. A whole civilization built on vanity, and dependent on the humble mirror.

This also brings to mind a recent commentary in Streats by a Ms Janice Wong dated Feb 17, titled "An ugly woman is a lazy woman". Says it all.

So I said, "woah, good question..." as I got into the lift.

2004-02-14T00:49:00.000+08:00

Shankar is appealing his sentence. What, he thinks it's not enough?

2004-02-13T15:35:00.000+08:00

The mystery is pretty much solved. Got the 3rd and final installment today. I learnt 4 things from this episode.

1) My gf can be a really cool-headed liar.
2) I should have been a detective.
3) Or at least a handwriting analyst. Told my gf yesterday that it looks suspiciously like her handwriting, and all she said was, "in the first place I'm surprised you even know my handwriting." Come to think of it, it's a sign of the times that all I see of her writing nowadays is on the computer.
4) I should stick to my life-long principle and not gamble. Lost a beer.

Then again, this is one beer I'm happy to buy.

2004-02-12T13:46:00.000+08:00

I received the second postcard today. Same handwritten address on the envelope.

This time it's a "U", outlined with the same black felt-tip pen to look like a glass of champagne or beer. To the right of the glass there is a word, "Cheers!" written on it. There are fainter marks on the postcard, which looks like a pen ran out of ink and the person had to switch to the felt pen to overwrite the word and the lines. The "s" at the end of the word looks awkward, as if it was written wrongly and the person tried to correct it. The handwriting is cursive, and does not match that on the envelope.

And this time there is a message at the back of the postcard. "Hard bites" written with the felt pen. Cryptic, or nonsensical. Depends very much on how you look at it.

Did a search for the brand name embossed on the envelopes. "Dayspring". Turns out that it's a publisher of Christian gifts and cards. Given this clue I'd normally guess with confidence that it's my gf, who sometimes shop for such items. However, she has professed ignorance on the issue, and I'll take that at face value.

My colleagues are divided equally betwwen 2 major possibilities. Secret admirer? Prankster? And what is the message? I must admit I am intrigued. Let's hope the cards keep coming.