Sorry for my absence. Still, I'm not staying for long. A short anecdote on re-affirming my way of surviving in the office environment. I've always been a firm advocate that whatever else happens the one thing that will get you through the compliments and detriments of your working life is never your talent, not your attitude, not results not blatant cock sucking but the existence of FRIENDS. Sadly, people like the P-Man never got this, even with 30 years of slogging through the service. Antics of the P-Man HERE.

A small example on what it means to have a familiar face and voice on the other end of the phone. Firstly, the players in this tale. Me, a colleague whom I always smoke and shoot the breeze with, a superior [nice guy yet not so gullible to little stunts].

Me: Morning, who is this ah?
Friend: This is ****.
Me: Oh, eh brother, ah neh here la. I don't feel like coming in, KNN feel one kind, how ah?

Now the charade begins

Friend: Oh, you are very sick ah! [tone much louder than earlier, so that superior understands this is a "real" thing]
Me: Urmz, yeah man, damn sick.
Friend: What, high fever is it? [Maintaining loud tone]
Me: Yes, that sounds like a good reason.
Friend: What temperature Sir?
Me: What is a good temperature?
Friend: 37.8 degrees ah? Wah, better go doctor fast. Call us later to update us.
Me: Thanks man. You the best-est.

Simple? Now go out and be friends with everybody. Leave out the fellas who are dependent on muscle supplements [their brains one kind], the immature rich brats [their mouth one kind] and the ones who no one friends either [something must be very wrong with them].



Why we love Jack Black?

JB: What's it gonna be Kyle? You have to decide... Tits... or Destiny.
KG: [Lifting up his shirt] Tits.

If you hadn't already realized, the PICK of destiny refers to a guitar pick and not to pick and choose something. Though, the twofold meaning could have got viewers to actually try and derive the meaning of life thru this 1.5 hours of Jack Black madness. Not his best flick, not his worst either. Ah, back to why we love watching Jack Black on the silver screen.

Oh the dragons balls were blazin' as I stepped into his cave,
Then I sliced his fuckin' cockles,
With a long and shiney blade!
'Twas I who fucked the dragon,
Fuckalize sing-fuckaloo!
And if you try to fuck with me,
Then I shall fuck you too!
Gotta get it on in the party zone!
I gots to shoot a load in the party zone!
Gotta lick a toad in the party zone!
Gotta suck a chode in the party zone!

After this he gets whacked on his bottom by a nice fat leather belt.

If you think its time to fucking rock, and fucking roll, out of control,
and then you know you got to rock the block,
and fucking suck my fucking cock,
'cause when you rule, you fucking school all of the fools, out of their jewels,
'cause if you think it’s time,
if you think it’s time,
if you think it’s time to fucking rock.

After this, Kyle Gass tells him to shove up his opinions where the sun don't shine and walks.

I can't get to sleep tonight
No matter how hard I try
Cause it's cold and it's dark
And the wind is a whistlin'
And I can't seem to put out the light
Momma's been searching for baby
But baby been tryin' to get home
Cause it's cold and it's dark
And the moon cannot light the way
And Daddy's gone - (bye bye)

After this, the dudes from A Clockwork Orange come club the shit outa him.

Now how could you not like a guy like this?

I am looking for Tenacious D shirts. If you happen to chance upon them in Singapore or just decide to be overly Christmassy with me and order it online, do gimme a shout.

, , ,
Generated By Technorati Tag Generator

Suicide Protocol

So, this is what you'd end up as the next time you figure the MRT is the way to end your cowardly life. Do what you have to do to end it, my personal suggestion is carbon monoxide and car with engine running. Don't however, inconvenience poor bastards who gotta get to work and elsewhere on time.

Excuses are seldom heeded in upper management. They figure trees never fall across Lornie Road, bodies never fall across MRT tracks and canals seldom overflow with floodwaters when they are on their way to work. The next time you have a bright suicide idea, at least ensure your final send off isn't packaged with the curses of random onlookers.

, ,
Generated By Technorati Tag Generator


History of a Hack

So, I got hacked right. Or did I? A brief history of what happened. But, I must say, Microsoft beats Google hands down in Customer Service Support.

1. All your e-mails have a personal employee name attached to it.
2. You actually feel you are talkin to a human being and not a machine.
3. You actually think your problem MIGHT be solved.
4. Microsoft kinda gets it that the true owner of an account is the one who can provide the most information about it.

First, what was done when I realized I had lost control:

This was why I had this strong feeling it had to be Singapore-induced. I mean which other countrys' clowns are soo into this particular social networking site. There's tons others where these came from.

Ah, the way to a man's heart. Go after his blogs. Thank god I prefer Gmail's interface to Hotmail's.

And thus after Microsoft's impeccable service and assistance, I managed to retrieve my Friendster password. Lo and behold:

Now, shall we all go on the legendary witch [muffin23] hunts of Salem? Anyhow, if you wanna keep my Gmail MSN add, do so. Unless you are pretty anal about redundant adresses then I think it's pretty safe to say I have reverted back to my original MSN add.

If you ever get caught in the same situation, assuming you are the victim and not an aggressor, keep this info close to you to take back control of your account:

1. Your Windows Live ID Sign in name:
2. Your First and Last Name
3. Date of Birth (Month/date/year):
4. Country or Region:
5. State (if applicable):
6. Zip or Postal Code:
7. Your IP address (List the IPs from each computer that you used to access your account). You can go to http://www.whatismyip.com to find this information: (The numbers that appear at the top of this page will be your IP Address).
8. Answer to your Secret Question (if applicable):
9. Alternate Email address on account (if applicable):
10 Your Internet Service Provider (home or work):
11. Last date and time you successfully signed in:

Windows Live Mail:

1. Any folders you created (aside from the default folders):
2. Contacts in your address book:
3. Subjects of any old mail that is in your inbox or mail folders.

Windows Live Messenger:

1. A list of Contacts in your buddy list.
2. Your Windows Live Messenger Nickname (your Messenger Display name)


, , , ,
Generated By Technorati Tag Generator


The Quiz

So, legend has it that NTU should not be calling their class tests, "quiz" or "continual assessment" because the words themselves do not describe the event taking place.

See, to "quiz" somebody would be to investigate someone's knowledge and the word brings to mind some rapid fire round in Jeopardy. Yet, the only talent you need possess is the optimum angle to crane your neck and shift your beady eyes in order to peer onto the foreign worker student's paper next to you / in front of you / behind you [if you are extremely talented].

A "continual assessment" however would bring about imagery of a consistent work flow with adequate progressive checks and balances along the way to achieve the set goals. Not the case in an institution where even attendance in tutorials has been ejected for the sake of accommodating our rowdy study style [attend nothing but the final exams giving you 3 months of solid holidays].

Yet, some tutors place such great importance in these quizzes and CAs that it is quite weird the way they are so anal about attending them. For example, for a module I already know I failed [results aint even out yet], I had an MC for one of my tests. Granted, an MC gives you immunity, in the normal context of the rules and regulations. However, my anal tutor decides to tell me I now qualify for a "makeup quiz". To make up what? Make up the lack of attendance.

Let me get this straight, I queue for 20 odd minutes behind a phlegm spewing old man and seated beside the most nastiest 3 year old you could ever meet, pay 20 dollars for medication I don't need, just to sit for this test? Now, why the fuck would I have bothered to if I still have to write the goddamn thing? So, I reply my tutor saying I don't think I can make it cos my leg very the pain, due to an unfortunate street soccer incident. With much care and concern, he replied: "Well, I can arrange another one for you on Friday. This is your final chance."

I was seething by now. Which part of I don't think I will pass a test on Ordinary Differential Equations even if I studied for it don't the fuck do you understand? I CHOOSE the easy way out. I pay 20 dollars for immunity not a re-chance to relive the glory days, you fuckin prick!

But truth be told, some tutors make it all worthwhile. They know that the only times they are gonna see some of our faces are during these twice a semester tests and they had better make use of that 1/2 hour to impress upon us that they ARE intelligent beings, not by virtue of their PhDs but by their talent in setting a question paper.

A group of young undergraduates walk into class one time hoping to ace their quiz. Some spent the whole night mugging, some though preferred to morally encourage those who would be pulling all-nighters and hope their support would equate to a 5-letter redemption. [MCQ quiz ma. 5 questions. 5 letters. 5 answers]

So, imagine the look on all these blokes' faces when the question paper turns out to look something like this:

Q1. What is the name of your tutor?
Q2. What is the name of your lecturer?
Q3. On what days and times are the lectures held?
Q4. Related to subject matter
Q5. Related to subject matter

As you might have already realized, for the "visit my tutorial lesson twice a semester" students, an immediate failure was staring them right at their faces. It didn't help that the tutor was Chinese and all the choices listed were Chinese names either.

So what do you do when put in a tough spot like this?

You walk out.

I did. [I failed this quiz in honour of this prof's talent. I respect talent. Enough to sacrifice 6% of my final grade for.]

Chanced upon this in this guy called Sara's post of a professor and his MBA students. Good read, here.

, ,
Generated By Technorati Tag Generator



Ok, it's official. It wasn't the residue of alcohol or invalid psychomotor skills. I have got hacked. My MSN and Hotmail to be exact cos they share a password. Karma maybe, yet the last time I tried it, I went on the extreme and just deleted the entire online presence of the party not just hold on and think "now what can this 5 year old do with this toy".

1. Good job in changing the secret question. The new question is "Favourite teacher?". Knowing well beforehand I would have NONE. [and don't think I didn't try "none", "nobody", "no teacher" already]

2. Mofo must be Singaporean. The traits are all there. First the Hotmail and immediately the Friendster. Is it such a show of power? Taking control of one's Friendster account? What's the most you can do? Change my occupation to Gigolo? Non-existent nude photos? What? What?

3. Thank you though. It's been heck of a long time I did proper housekeeping on my MSN list. I was running out of categories to store everyone perfectly. Blame my OCD tendencies if you will. Now, we start from scratch. Just like the first time you lose your handphone and think to yourself the world is over, yet it works out good, cos only the worthwhile ones will hunt you down again.

4. To all, add me at ahneh69@gmail.com



Tag Me

If you tag me about this post I'll :

1. respond with something random about you.
2. challenge you to try something.
3. pick a colour that I associate with you.
4. tell you something I like about you
5. tell you my first/clearest memory about you.
6. tell you what animal you remind me of.
7. ask you something I've always wanted to ask you.
8. You must post this on yours

So you have till tomorrow to tag and i'd comment about all those of you who tag saying you want me to do the above!!! In return, you gotta post this on your own blogs!

I'm reduced to blatant cut and pasting and reliving my tween days. Such anguish. Still, if you're game for it, go for it.

Tis is also the season for tributes. And I thank me lovelies for knowingly or unknowingly doing it in the space of a few days apart. Good refresher from mundane work and externalities.

This is just a tribute!
You gotta believe it!
And I wish you were there!
Just a matter of opinion.
Ah, fuck!
Good God, God lovin' ,
So surprised to find you can't stop me



100 Influential Men

Now, there happens to be this bloke. Michael Hart, who decided he shall dredge through all history all the way to the first caveman and pick the 100 most influential people in history. It could be pretty boring to just trawl through the list and think to yourself, "Who is this again?" , "What did he do? Was he a rocket scientist?". But, since the book did get rave reviews, maybe you should take another look at these 100 folks and ask yourself, how much DO you know really about the people who have shaped history as we know it?

That's if you can get your head out of the next guy's arse for the next five minutes. What? You like the constriction? It's therapy? Ok, then, skip along, Polly Pocket.

I've coloured the ones I know at least a teeny weeny bit about. My score is thus: 49/100. Well, isn't this the season of failure all of a sudden?

1. Prophet Muhammad
2. Isaac Newton
3. Jesus Christ
4. Buddha
5. Confucius
6. St. Paul
7. Ts'ai Lun - Inventor of paper
8. Johann Gutenberg - Developed movable type and advances in printing
9. Christopher Columbus
10. Albert Einstein
11. Karl Marx
12. Louis Pasteur
13. Galileo Galilei
14. Aristotle
15. Lenin
16. Moses
17. Charles Darwin
18. Shih Huang Ti
19. Augustus Caesar
20. Mao Tse-tung
21. Genghis Khan
22. Euclid
23. Martin Luther
24. Nicolaus Copernicus
25. James Watt
26. Constantine the Great - Conqueror and legalized Christianity in the Byzantine Empire
27. George Washington
28. Michael Faraday
29. James Clerk Maxwell - Formulated the basic laws of electricity and magnetism
30. Orville Wright and Wilbur Wright
31. Antoine Laurent Lavoisier - Father of modern chemistry
32. Sigmund Freud
33. Alexander the Great
34. Napoleon Bonaparte
35. Adolf Hitler
36. William Shakespeare
37. Adam Smith - Helped create the modern discipline known as economics
38. Thomas Edison
39. Anthony van Leeuwenhoek - Father of microbiology
40. Plato - Philosopher
41. Guglielmo Marconi - Inventor of radio
42. Ludwig van Beethoven
43. Werner Heisenberg - Creator of quantum mechanics
44. Alexander Graham Bell
45. Alexander Fleming
46. Simon Bolivar - AKA "El Libertador", gained independence for Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Panama and Bolivia
47. Oliver Cromwell - Made England a republic, commanded the Army by having anal sex with his superiors
48. John Locke - Contributed majorly to political philosophy especially liberal theory
49. Michelangelo
50. Pope Urban II - Started the First Crusade
51. Umar ibn al-Khattab - Second Caliph of Islam
52. Asoka
53. St. Augustine - Major development of Western Christianity
54. Max Planck - Founder of quantum theory
55. John Calvin - Founder of Calvinism or reformed theology
56. William T.G. Morton - Inventor of anesthesia
57. William Harvey - Credited with detailing the blood circulatory system
58. Antoine Henri Becquerel - Discovered radioactivity
59. Gregor Mendel - Father of modern genetics
60. Joseph Lister - Promoted idea of sterile surgery
61. Nikolaus August Otto - Inventor of internal combustion engine
62. Louis Daguerre - Inventor of photography
63. Joseph Stalin
64. Rene Descartes - Father of modern mathematics
65. Julius Caesar
66. Francisco Pizarro
67. Hernando Cortes - Initiated Spanish conquest of Mexico
68. Queen Isabella I - Laid foundation for political unification of Spain
69. William the Conqueror - Invaded England and won the Battle of Hastings
70. Thomas Jefferson - Author of Declaration of Independence
71. Jean-Jacques Rousseau - Philosopher
72. Edward Jenner - Introduced smallpox vaccine
73. Wilhelm Conrad Rontgen - Discovered EM radiation
74. Johann Sebastian Bach
75. Lao Tzu
76. Enrico Fermi - Developed first nuclear reactor
77. Thomas Malthus - Political economist and demographer
78. Francis Bacon - Philosopher
79. Voltaire - Philosopher
80. John F. Kennedy
81. Gregory Pincus - Inventor of contraceptive pill
82. Sui Wen Ti - Did a whole lot for China
83. Mani - Religious preacher
84. Vasco da Gama - Explorer, first to sail directly from Europe to India
85. Charlemagne - Founder of France, Germany and some say Europe
86. Cyprus the Great - ???
87. Leonhard Euler - Mathematician
88. Niccolo Machiavelli
89. Zoroaster - Founder of Zoroastrianism
90. Menes - United Egypt into one kingdom
91. Peter the Great - Made Russia into major European power
92. Mencius
93. John Dalton - Advocacy of atomic theory
94. Homer
95. Queen Elizabeth
96. Justinian I - Last Roman emperor
97. Johannes Kepler - First theoretical astrophysicist
98. Pablo Picasso
99. Mahavira - Established Jainism
100. Niels Bohr

Now, for every name you are dumbfounded by. There's always Wikipedia. Otherwise, buy the book HERE.

Generated By Technorati Tag Generator


The Greener Side

Yinteresting. Hmmm.


1. If you are choking on an ice cube, don't panic. Simply pour a cup of boiling water down your throat and presto. The blockage will be almost instantly removed.

2. Clumsy? Avoid cutting yourself while slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold them while you chop away.

3. Avoid arguments with the Mrs. about lifting the toilet seat by simply using the sink.

4. For high blood pressure sufferers: simply cut yourself and bleed for few minutes, thus reducing the pressure in your veins. Remember to use a timer.

5. A mouse trap, placed on top of your alarm clock, will prevent you from rolling over and going back to sleep after you hit the snooze button.

6. If you have a bad cough, take a large dose of laxatives, then you will be too afraid to cough.

7. Have a bad toothache? Smash your thumb with a hammer and you will forget about the toothache.

8. You only need two tools: WD-40 and Duct Tape.
If it doesn't move and should, use the WD-40.
If it shouldn't move and does, use the duct tape.

On a different note, I am in dire requirement of the following:

1. A civil engineer who is currently employed in the industry
2. A person who is adept at creating MIDI files using their PC and plugged in peripherals
3. Anyone who has just got done with their prom night

If you are not any of the above, but can put me in touch with such an individual, please do. MSN me.


World Aids Day

Well, World Aids Day has come and gone. Twas on 1st Dec for the ignorant. Anyhow, at least for this week the local media will be going all out with "Safe Sex" and "No Discrimination" articles at full blast. Of course, expect it to die down once Chrissy season hits.

Is it just me or do the local papers just play football like we used to using 2 dollar rubber balls running around the void deck? You know, no structure, no formation, no delegation, no strategy. Find a new flavour, chase it till it runs dry and foul and then wait for the next hot topic to hit the streets.

The cartoons in the Straits Times were very enlightening though. Especially the one about a woman who was infected by her husband and later was expecting her third child. I definitely didn't know that there is a 95-98% chance that a HIV infected woman will NOT give birth to a HIV infected child. That's pretty good odds. God is gracious.

There is another subterranean movement on the world sex charts. Global Orgasm Day.

Read more about this subtly kooky yet so logical intiative, HERE.

Exercise great prudence when reading the papers is my thought. They want you to fuck, yet they want you to fuck safe [condom mana ada shiok?]. They want more kids to be born, yet they are steadily raising the costs of raising one. The coppers are the reason behind our fine, secure society yet an illegal immigrant can get killed in a prison cell brawl. What gives?

But of course, when it feels like the world's in shambles and you don't know what to trust and you're quite out of focus; you can always take heart that the blokes running the world are still psychomotor-impaired idiots.


, ,
Generated By Technorati Tag Generator


AIDS Retort

Girl: Shall I make you happy?

Boy: Are you clean?

Girl: Don't worry I am.

Boy: Aint you afraid? What if I've got AIDS?

Girl: You worry too much. Why worry about something that kills you in 10 to 15 years when there're soo many things that could kill you today.

Generated By Technorati Tag Generator


Park too Long

And here's why we have parking aunties, coupon cheater bugs and reserved red slot season parking.


Heroes and Zeroes

I'm never for doing match reports on recently concluded footy games. Maybe this is because I seldom bother to invest an hour and a half, plus minus interval time on a football game no more. When there's no money riding on the game, there's no kick in watching it. I've become a woman looking at football now wondering what the hell all those blokes are paid multi million dollar salaries for chasing a little ball [now in multicolours, no more just B n W].

So, anyhow, since I'm a born again, watch the game for the essence of the sport and its related sportsmanship person, I realize now that things are a tad different when the Benjamins don't come into play [pun intended]. See, when normally with my usual of a minimum of 500 buckeroos riding on a game, even when a player gets fouled or engages in gross unsportsmanlike behaviour, I kinda just brush it off. My theory then was this is what they're paid so highly for. Do whatever it takes, to get the desired result. After all, you're so well compensated for it.

These days however, since win or lose I don't lose, every single vile and uncouth action on that vast green field is greeted with incensed rage. Is this the passion of the beautiful game I have failed to indulge in all these years?

Manchester United and Chelsea drew 1-1 last night. It wasn't a blockbuster, wasn't a thriller. But it was quite obvious that Man U was to Chelsea how Blackburn Rovers are to Man U. In fact, comparing Man U's conduct to Rovers would be underestimating their lack of sportsmanship. I think Wimbledon in the Vinnie Jones era is a much apt comparison.

Here to me were the main wankers of last night's game:

Motherfucker Vidic. What the fuck were you trying to prove? You're the reason why footballers prefer studs on others' faces rather than sit down to an ice cold beer toasting their opponents' bravado.

Ronaldo the Prick. Play acting is so passe. Ashley Cole should have bitch slapped you silly and threw you into the Chelsea stands where your own "Theatre of Dreams" would have transpired. Fuckin loser. After doing it on the international stage, and getting much flak for it, what makes you think you can pull off the same shiet in the "all eyes on me" EPL?

Smart call for a substitution though. The stage was set for a mass brawl making injury time REALLY injury time.

Mazy runs and dribbles aside. Fucking his best friend's wife aside. There's no way you can hate Giggs. Especially when Scholes and Rooney decide to have a "subdued" afternoon.

Now, I gotta be fair and diss across the board. Since now I'm a fan of footy and not a "I jus plonked half my life savings on Chelski". Shevchenko, you got to go. That rhymed by the way. Would translate to a nice jingle in the stands at Stamford Bridge. Nowhere as deadly as he was in Milan, I think his Chelsea jersey will be a collector's item since he's bound to leave cos he just cannot hack it here.

All talk and no substance. Made his name in the Bundesliga. Decided to have a bust up with Klinsmann while playing for his nation. But, cannot make it on English soil. And when you know you're a useless fella and just aint contributing to the Chelsea salvo a la Drogba, just tell the coach you want out. Don't waste people's time. And of all things, just cos your contributions are not in the form of ball bulging the back of the net, don't be a super dickhead and start every quarrel afresh in the field when the main participants have already walked off after a few harsh words to each other.


, , , , , , ,
Generated By Technorati Tag Generator


The Departed

This is way overdue but a recent discussion about this movie with sheepman made me wanna put this up now instead of letting it die a slow death in my "drafts". A remake of Infernal Affairs 1, Hollywood style. Well, Hollywood, you fucked it up. Big time! Even the likes of Scorsese couldn't save this.

What I was meant to use to watch this flick:

Thank you MTV. But, these Mon-Wed only terms and conditions were a right pain in the arse. Especially when it's highly rare I even leave my house on non-drinking days. So, BitTorrent to the rescue it is. And I finally caught this anomaly of a movie on the circuit. Verdict? IT sucked.

Why did The Departed Suck?

1. Irish versus the Police - Where in the world do you equate Irish hoods as having the same modus operandi and style as the HK triads?

2. Casting - Jack Nicholson is the wrong man for the job. The right man would have been Al Pacino or equivalent. Matt Damon cannot make it. Leo is too pretty to be wannabe gangster, emotionless prick. Martin Sheen is too old to pull off this role. His death was meant to induce poignancy but the scene was so muted it was a fucked up climax to it all. The actor who oughta have played Sheen's role should have been a middle aged bloke with much of his life left to live. If you recall, in Infernal Affairs, Sheen's counterpart had only just got his first child, a daughter.

3. Music - Music makes movies sometimes. A good sountrack is all it takes to carry a piss poor film sometimes and The Departed totally missed the point on it. HK movies are so darn dependant on music backing up important plot scenes. Hollywood unfortunately is probably just watching the bottomline and royalties to music artistes.

End of the day, don't attempt a remake even if you have big name signings if you aren't up to it.

Frank Costello: When I was your age they used to say you could become cops or criminals. What I'm saying to you is this... When your facing a loaded gun, what's the difference?

Billy Costigan: [to Frank Costello] You accuse me once, I put up with it. You accuse me twice... I quit. You pressure me to fear for my life and I will put a bullet in your head as if you were anybody else. Okay?

Ellerby: [on Sullivan getting married] Marriage is an important part of getting ahead. It lets people know you're not a homo. A married guy seems more stable. People see the ring, they think "at least somebody can stand the son of a bitch." Ladies see the ring, they know immediately that you must have some cash, and your cock must work.

For an actually intellectual deeper than skin-deep review, I defer to AVB's take on it.

Generated By Technorati Tag Generator


Mad World

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places Worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going no where

Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression
Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow
No tomorrow

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
its a very very mad world

Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy birthday
And I feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen

Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what’s my lesson
Look right through me

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
its a very very mad world


Year End Bonus

When you're broke, you start calculating how much the next pay packet is worth. If you don't have an employer who's gonna issue the packet then you're pretty much fucked.

Channelnewsasia says: Civil Servants to get 2.2 months year end bonus

Now, the calculation.

That gives me 4 months out of the year I've worked. Multiplied by 2.2. Multiplied by my base salary. Minus 5% fine cos I've been a bad bad boy.

Works out to just under 3K nett [after all the mandatory deductions, the one to SINDA I fume about the most] for the month of December. Ho ho ho. It's gonna be a merry little Chrissy.



What I go to school for

From the annals of the diaries written in the dungeons where the whole "height issues - tiramisu" saga began.

At least this amounted to more than me bringing RT to school, introducing her as a sister and not getting believed by all the manjen chicks and mat boys.

Quarreling about smoking in non-smoking zones with one security guard, 2 professors and lovingly chided by the cleaning auntie who only speaks Teochew [and swears in all dialects] later, I am still at the same spot this morning fagging and waiting for the bus.

Some people never learn. Fine the bastards. On a totally random afternote, my house coffeeshop has gone crazy and has been rid of all its ciggie supply for the past 3 days. Either the owner is extremely pissed off about something or they are changing their suppliers. In any case, it is irritating.


Oprah Gabra

I've never been a fan of this woman. In fact, I barely saw the point of housewives and ladies with nothing on in the afternoons who religiously tuned in to catch what new social issue the big black lady was gonna bring up that day. To me, Oprah was just a woman who didn't get laid enough, for all the money she makes with Harpo, her company, a simple reversal of her name.

I've seen, druggies, ex-rapists, child abusers, abused children getting their 15 mins of fame on the show. Tears galore always. I've also seen parents getting told off for not checking the iminent demise of their errant children. It all seemed a little too condescending for me. Yes, RT worse than my own God-like condescension.

But this morning, I was floored. See, Oprah does this "Wildest Dreams Come True" segment from time to time where they select a deserving person who has their life in a rut or has an unfulfilled wild-ass dream and make them come true, most of the time at over the top levels.

The episode I caught today was about this Afro-American woman who was working her ass out at the local Starbucks, begging for more overtime [don't we all] so she could make ends meet. She had never had a day off since don't know, the beginning of time is my rough guess. Why is she having it so bad? She is a single mum. Has 3 children of her own, and get this, has also taken in her brother's 6 children! Apparently, their own parents couldn't take care of their children due to their addiction to heroin and to stop them from having to live in foster homes, she took all 6 of them in. That's 1 single mother with 1 job making lattes for a living AND concurrently raising 9 children in a 3 bedroom apartment.

Just looking at her plight got me emo. My mum thought the curry that came with the prata was laced with too much chilli.

So, Oprah waltzes in and firstly, gives the entire family a 20 minute shopping spree at Toys R Us. In 20 minutes, all 10 people managed to snatch close to $15,000 worth of toys, clothes and other merchandise off the shelves.

Next, she gets one of the corporate sponsors to provide full furnishings for her home. New living room furniture, new cutting edge kitchen and individual beds for each of the children. Currently, everyone shared beds including the mum.

This is followed by loaning her America's most wanted decorator, that handsome metro guy on her show regularly to do up her home.

But, then, how the fuck do you squeeze all these stuff they've got, and new furniture into a tiny 3 room apartment? Well, problem solved. Oprah got them a new house! It was a 1920s classic brick bungalow big enough for all ten of them.

By this time, I was getting too emo for a 24 year old man. No, I was not sitting there thinking, damn, why don't these things happen to me. Instead, I was silently applauding that this fine lady who handled soo much shit for soo many years finally got a good break. And that it comes free is of no concern to me. Everyone needs to get out of their rut sooner or later. Some attribute it to divine intervention, for some its the intervention of friends and some just put it to pure luck.

Now how did Oprah get wind of this woman's plight anyway? She really didn't seem the sort that'd go around sitting in singles bars lamenting her fortunes to anyone who'd bother to listen over a gin and juice. Her co-workers at Starbucks infact rallied together and wrote in repeatedly to highlight this woman's efforts and sacrifices hoping that Oprah can pull off something they couldn't.

Which led me to the thought of caring for a non-blood related person. A colleague, a classmate, a guy you see on the bus to work. This level of thought on wanting to better a life of another is simply, divine. Would this same concept work in Singapore? Would you actually take the effort to go write in to some rich bloke hoping that one of your fellow colleagues is lifted out of the rut of poverty? Or are we the selfish bastards many of us know we are, who would rather pester a friend to write in highlighting our OWN misfortunes, promising them a cut of the benefits if and when they do arrive?

No matter. New found respect. For some Americans and for the fat lady Oprah. Check out the rest of the Wildest Dreams bus's travels, HERE and search for the story of the lady called Bernadette. She is the one mentioned above.


, , ,
Generated By Technorati Tag Generator


User IDs

Today we talk about trust issues. Basically, a fine NUS undergraduate [mi darlin RT] decides to spend a little quality studying time in that god forsaken land of NTU and needs to tag onto the wireless network. Now, you cannot utilize free WiFi unless you possess a userid and password ascertaining you are entitled to utilize it as a member of the school. So, diligent NUS undergrad decides to step around the authentication process by asking someone else to provide theirs to her.

She smsed 4 blokes on this matter. And this is how the replies went:

NUS Girl: Hey, can you lend me your ntu userid and password?

Bloke 1: Sorry, outside people are not allowed to use the NTU network. :)

Bloke 2: I think you have to bring your laptop to the office to get it configured to use the network first.

Me: [calls back] This is my ID, this is my password. Ok bye.

And the grand winner of them all, was Arch. He simply takes the cake for nonchalance. The epitome of it.

Arch: Who is this?

[Barely 5 seconds later]
Arch: It doesn't matter who this is. My ID is ***** and my password is *****

Do you see the great divide like I do? I think it stems from knowing that some userids and passwords are never to be leaked [Internet Banking, personal e-mail] and some are just so useless it doesn't matter if a hacker in Finland gets wind of it because there's nothing much he can do with it other than tag free wireless, register subjects for you and check pointless school e-mail. Possibly the root of it all is the more time you spend in a pasty marshland, the more you sit and hope that a wayward artillery shell would just blast the concrete buildings to bits. That fundamentally, it has nothing to do with Ingterneck Security.

Still, Arch, you the man la brudder. Big up!



1st Year

In all the drama over the past 2 weeks or so, it has conveniently evaded me that this blog is as of today, 1 yr and 11 days old. I am not gonna reminisce, just a point of information if you will. I tried my best to go read through the archives, but I got bored. I can imagine how I bore you cunts sometimes.

In other news, my brother is now an official dance group groupie. That he is a groupie of the all-female groups is definitely the lesser evil. I admit, it must have been such a foolish thought to hope and pray that this bloke at least would tread the straight path and not be exposed to the myriad of sub cultures our great race has to offer. Alas, I can only hope he has the brains to utilize my assistance when need be and not go at trouble alone if and when it does arrive.

In other other news, an interesting MSN convo of yesterday:

Brother: What are you giving me for my birthday? [it's on the 22nd btw]
Me: Nothing.
Brother: Oh, ok thanks.
Me: Welcome.
Brother: Haiz.

Yes, communication has resorted to this when in actuality a rock I flick from here can hit him square in the face with a tolerable error of +/- 0.02 mm. The bane of technology.

A recurring thought of the past few days: I'm allowed to embarass myself, but are YOU allowed to embarass me?

Have a think about that one.


Blood Stallion

Catching the story of Kublai Khan and later his son, Genghis Khan on this serial on Channel U, I realize I don't watch enough Chinese flicks these days. Yes, I went on my Infernal Affairs 1-3 marathon the other night followed by The Departed. But, it isn't close to my childhood when "Ti Pa Poh Tao" was the channel of choice after my afternoon session school.

Anyhow, television educates. Today I learnt about this breed of a horse known as a blood stallion. Apparently, normal animals sweat sweat, a blood stallion sweats blood. Extremely rare. 2 wars in ancient history have been fought over blood-sweat horses. Read more about it, HERE.

I am intrigued. I want one. Not for its rarity, but for the sake of making the figurative "blood-stained hands" a reality.

Generated By Technorati Tag Generator


Lie Cheat Steal

So, first RT decides to do a whole "Don't keep a cheat in your life" post, HERE. Then, she follows it up with a modernity doesn't mean promiscuity "Fuck you Ho" post, HERE.

Elsewhere, within the blogosphere, SuperNova wants to know if you coincidentally happen to meet a friend who is attractive and digs you too, do you leave your chick for this new one, HERE.

And, new friend decides to do some anti-lying, cheating bastards rant, HERE.

I really thought I'd be inspired to write some whole jing jang bullshit about why you should be faithful and not cheat and if you see the need to cheat, why not just break up first, kinda post. But to hell with it.

My mantra has always been "Wanna do? Do it big". This next lady has ma RESTECP. Which is precisely I don't see myself in this whole frivolous, cheating adrenaline rush. Lazy la. Where got time to book billboard all?


Crisis Management



Steady. Steady. Deep breath.




Ok, fuck it.



People are beginning to steal my friends. Not happy. Net you give Praba back to me! Then again, it's just Karma in action.

Quoting another female "Don't know la, one day she is my best friend the next day, she's Shanker's best friend."

Oh well. Congratulations to all who are embarking on a new career path. Hope it goes well. Don't get sacked. Call me on payday.

Also, over about a crate of Tigers I have discovered new meaning to the word "impose". Twas very enlightening and been a long long time since intellect and beer have mixed for me. Thanks for that mate.

Happy Birthday Sash. Since, you oughta NOT have flown the coop, we'll raise a glass to you tonight. Make that a nice ice cold pint of Hoegaarden thank you very much.



The Haircut

Today, I went for my once in a lifetime haircut. See, I would love to keep neat short cropped hair all the time but being the lazy bastard I am, it kinda gets impossible after a while. So, what usually occurs is me going in with lots of aspirations, hating my haircut the minute i walk out the door, having a shower and pondering all other possibilities and finally using wax or gel to make it work. But all these product-laced efforts only last two weeks, after which it always gets too long to style properly. Well, I could style it, just the laziness kicks in again.

Thus, it will eventually grow to the length I used to sport in Sec 4. Long at the back, curled up by long orange comb then, mum's hair brush now. Centre parting like how a true blue Yindian should start his foray into the hairstyling world. Memories of the cockroach feelers, flying in the wind during PE during JC times do ring a bell. I've never been into crazy hairstyles. Shavings here and highways there. Spiked up in weird places and "look at my pubes" uber-modern styles.

I like my hair salon. It's one of those franchised ones situated in a neighbourhood enclave. I go there only for this one Malaysian lady who has since found a living in Singapore. The very first time I popped in, we got into this conversation about how she used to help out in the RC [coincidentally situated under my block] and how politicking is so common there. She told me she felt left out, that most of the times, the educated elite preferred to discuss things within themselves and just use the blue collar volunteers for only the dirty work and hard labour. Also, there was some issue about the way finances are accounted for within that office, but since this kinda accusation could find me in a costlier - than - Hermes suit, I'd prefer not to tell the tale here.

We bonded because we shared the same hate for the RC chairman, both past and current. I hated the old bloke cos he used to tell my dad I was smoking under the block when he wasn't really gonna get paid for his CID work. The new bloke just pisses me off because he's into the whole "There is a no football sign here so I have the right to confiscate your rubber butterfly balls" mode. Who the fuck are you man? The police? What gives you the right to snatch away a 2 dollar rubber ball that was probably bought by 4 little primary school kiddos pitching in their saved 50 cents each from their allowance. And why don't you have the balls to go confiscate the sporting accessories of middle aged men who kick around a football in the same amphitheatre on the weekends. You big bully you!

She hated the former cos she didn't like the way his dogs snapped at her. She didn't like the current one because she felt he was a money grubbing condescending bastard. I agreed with her on both counts because when someone has many sharp objects quite near your grey matter, it's best not to disagree or invite a healthy discussion.

The second time I went in, a newbie apprentice was tasked to do my hair. I was very alarmed that she had let him do it, but she took great care to step in every 5 minutes to repair his mistakes and in the end, it was a good hair cut. So, I was still at peace.

Today is the third time I'm in and some other bitch steps up to the plate. This was very interesting because she apparently thought that the only way to communicate when an Indian was in the salon was to speak in Mandarin. After being politely reminded by my fav stylist that I understand every single word she said, she switched to Hokkien. Another heavy sigh from my stylist to indicate that I'd know what she said too. In desperation she resorted to sign language. I mean come on doofus! IT's a place full of fuckin mirrors! Whatever, wherever you sign, I can still see it within a 20 degree left-right firing range.

What really got to me was that she refused to do the back of my hair the way I wanted it. A V-Cut. Her reasoning was that, it was pointless because my hair and my skin were almost alike in colour and thus no one can see that the cut was V in shape anyway. I was like, what the fuck bitch! I pay my money, I deserve to get what I ask for, ugly looking or not. At least if it turns out ugly, you can do the "I told you so" and smirk right. Fuckin NNB.

I realized I began ranting without any focus. So, yeah, moral of the story is. When your OWN stylist is busy, always have the patience to wait for her to be free. Don't kay kiang and just go for the next alternative. Anyhow, I'm still at the "I hate my new haircut" phase. Still sitting at my laptop, still contemplating on whether to go with wax or gel, still thinking if I should just cry myself to sleep in utter depression.

Ah, fuck it, I'm going for a beer.




I was down the whole goddamn weekend with this pain in the arse tonsil issue. If you thought that middle thing all phallus shaped is the tonsil, you would be wrong. It instead signifies the two cavities either side of it, thus making it the plural tonsils.

And no, when I tell you that I have a problem with my tonsils, don't ask me if I'd need an operation. That's an appendix dickhead. Don't attempt biology if the closest you got to science was identifying a dumbcane plant in your primary school garden and then later taking a bite out of it to see if the theory was true. I wish you'd remained dumb. But yes, certain complications of tonsilitis would require an operation. This is in the event that both cavities swell till they totally block the entrance to your oesophagus and your trachea. Damn, love coming up with biology lingo. Apparently, the first man in history ever to die of a tonsil related disease was George Washington himself. I say George Bush, needs his tonsils checked.

Done with explaining my predicament. Can't eat. Can't talk without wincing. Can't smoke without getting fucked up by my mum. Can't drink although alcohol mostly solves my throat related ailments all the time. It's medicinal you know.

I finally see the doctor after the whole Singaporean "Panadol cures all" remedy phase and the American "Robitussin cures all" remedy phase. Buay tahan after 2 days. The image through my mind was that bloke who had his throat dissected on the cigarette packs. So, the doctor prescribed antibiotics, extra strong painkillers and a bunch of other useless stuff to me since I simply said I had them cos my mum needed those pills. Ah, the way Yindian families are so frugal. Now, I take my antibiotics but my eye swells. I take my painkillers but it lasts only for like half an hour when the fever decides to head back.

A brief break from all this pain came from a sachet and a half of LemSip at 5 am in the morning with me still shivering from the effects of "i'm running a 39 fever but i'm still feeling cold" syndrome. Thank you. Twas the sweetest thing in a long long time. I is lausings many many.

More coincidentally, this is exactly my pre-exam routine for the past 6 sems at least. Falling ill with a mysterious disease that can't be solved with 2 panadols, a hot coffee and a flaming stick of tobacco. It's as if it's such a joy to place more walls in front of already underachieving me. I mean, falling sick wouldn't be half as bad if my lecturer "accidentally" e-mailed the questions to me. Oh well, 7 days to go before my first one.

Saw this on someone's MSN nick recently: "I know I can cheat and get an A, but I have morals and I am not gonna stoop so low". All I thought was, what a dumb little fuck! This whole paradigm shift about morals and integrity and what really is minor and what is major is so lost on me. I've decided all youse who are 21 and under go collect my "Am I Sane Enough?" questionnaire and return it fully furnished. The alternative is the ubiquitous "Block, Delete".




Delirious yet painful. Content yet anxious. Confident yet wary. Story of the day.

Apparently, the gahmen has decided NOT to outlaw oral and anal sex between consenting heterosexual couples no more. Wow, now how long did it take them to get this done? And yes, definitely getting a mind-blowing [pun intended] oral sexcapade was never in the cards for all the 100 odd Members of Parliament. I mean what is a mouth for? To eat, to spit and to gargle with. What is an arse for? Always exito never entrio.

Still, the gay community is yet again thrust forward into the limelight. By gay, you know they are only going after the men on this one, just waiting for one of them to pull a George Michael on them at the MRT station washrooms. How do you outlaw lesbians then? Their version of sex is still sex to them. Possibly a motorized utensil rather than a throbbing flesh and blood dick. But, of course, that's not really enough to charge them with unnatural and carnal intercourse. I like this word. Carnal. What it means to say is that getting a blowjob is "relating to physical bodily contact". Quite the contrary when you compare it with carnage, which is what happens after my Sub Zero pulls a Fatality Move on your Scorpio.

This is going nowhere actually. The law must change. We have gotta accept that men who are attracted to other men and women who are attracted to other women is not so exceptional that it warrants ostracization.

Ostracization too is rife within the HIV infected community. They get soo many exemptions that it is kinda lookin fashionable to be infected with inccurabilities. And yes, for all youse sexually active blokes out there. Do yourself a favour. Go get a HIV Test done. Action for Aids runs anonymous tests for just 20 buckeroos down at Kelantan Lane. Get to their website, here. It's really not worth it, either getting infected, or passing it on or worse still not realizing till your infant ends up being born with it. Retardation drugs are presently still in laboratory testing stages but a full cure should take at least a good thirty years more. But anyhow, you should be dead by then.

Another bright, what would the world do without engineers e-mail from my professor. Yeah, like lawyers aren't scum enough.


Drunkard Memorial

There has been a lot of talk about Praba being the proverbial lost sheep seeking his unknown shepherd. Story is this. We drank. He went missing. We was quite pissed he was missing. He later was found at home. He claims he was sent home by another mystery drunk in a cab. Couldn't be either of us, couldn't have been a perfect stranger. Only the Lord knows.

The Culprit: Ugra Chandi

The BFG smirks after another successful "Drag that down or I'll give you a smothering bear hug".

The Victim: Praba

"Chandi, you mofo. Watch your back. I'm like Solksjaer. The smiling assassin."

The Memorial for a missing Prisoner of War [POW]:
Tea Candle on half pint of Hoegaarden

Instead of dwelling on the symbolism of it all, we promptly finished the beer after the wax burned out. Beer unlike food should NOT be wasted. Think about all beer-less poverty in the rest of the world.

After the pictures, you oughta check out the aftermath both on his and RT's pages, HERE.




Well, in light of the previous post. The debonairs of AVB just decided to run out and grab a pic of One Tree Hill. Let it be known that the 5 bucks will be donated to purchase half of the next AVB fag pack.

Talking about debonairs, check this one out. Pure YINDIAN porn.

Aint God ironic though.
Drink - Horny - All clothes off.
Drink - Horny - Can't get it up.

Question? How should these be ranked, in terms of ascending order?

1. Hugging
2. Kissing
3. Petting
4. Hand Jobs
5. Blow Jobs
6. Sex
7. Anal

See, I was always under the impression that 5 comes before 6. But in recent times, this whole "but using ur mouth is much more personal so it ranks later" counter argument seems to be plaguing my already pint-sized brain. Any helps?

Finally, spotted on Yahoo! Singapore:

So, when you are done attacking your stalker with your dual core processor, at least you have the body bag to properly dispose of the evidence.


One Tree Hill

Location. Location. Location.

A: So, where do you live?
B: Serangoon.
A: Like the Road?
B: No... like the North.

A: So, where do you live?
B: Sixth Avenue. And you?
A: I'm putting up at the Tenth Avenue.
B: Is that close to me?
A: I doubt so, it's in Ang Mo Kio.

Pre has long lamented that no one believes she used to stay in One Tree Hill. Before, you assume she's just being delirious or you haven't really ventured beyond the Orchard MRT bit of Orchard Boulevard, let me set you straight. There IS a One Tree Hill in Singapore. 5 bucks for anyone who goes out there and takes a picture of the signboard for me.

Houses at One Tree Hill could cost anywhere between $500 000 to from $6 000 000. For example, a freehold HDB resale apartment at One Tree Hill costs $1 150 000. Strangely, the private properties located at Orchard Centrepoint (nearby One Tree Hill) cost much cheaper, from anywhere between $500 000 to $2 500 000.


Snake Love

Bet you wouldn't have seen these before. Even if you have, bet you didn't know that in ancient Indian folklore, it is extremely bad luck to witness two snakes getting down with the dirty dirty.

Apparently, if any one of the snakes spot you, they will come at you with all the vengeance in the world and won't rest till you die. Even if one of them is accidentally stoned or eaten by the redemption eagle, the other won't forget the slight.

So, try not to have a meet and greet with these two anytime soon.


Late Addition: Chandi with his video input.



Rag Tag.
Drink. Smoke. Feed.
Apron String.
Lost Lighter.



Flip Mode

Pour my life into a paper cup
The ashtray's full and I'm spillin' my guts
She wants to know am I still a slut
I've got to take it on the other side

The Real World Map



Some have too much time on their hands as a university student. I too must prove my worth that time is of no issue when you are clicking MCQ questions with a fury that could only be matched by Mike Tyson on Holyfield's ear.

Apparently I have a 14% chance of going to Hell. You gotta believe in the concept of Heaven and Hell though.

My sleeping position tells me that: You have a passion for everything - including sleeping. Outgoing and brash, you tend to still shock those who know you well. You tend to be selfish. You are the most likely type to hog the covers. You gravitate toward comfort and don't like extreme situations. [Wah lan eh, why early early don't say?]

If I was reincarnated not as a slimy gecko that you blokes would like, but as an alcoholic drink, I'd be a martini. Reasoning is: You are the kind of drinker who appreciates a nice hard drink.
And for you, only quality alcohol. You don't waste your time on the cheap stuff. Obviously, you're usually found with a martini in your hand. But sometimes you mix it up with a gin and tonic. [KNN. KLKuality went out with the Pilgrims. It's Black Kat or nothing now.]

It was analyzed and decided that I act like I'm 25 years old. Hey, not too bad. Something close to accurate.

My aura is Red. Thus, You have a high level of emotion. This can mean passion, but it can also mean rage.Usually, you don't take these emotions out on others. You just use them as motivation - and it works! The purpose of your life: embracing all the wonders of the life, lots of travels, and tons of adventures. Famous reds include: Madonna, Marilyn Monroe, Jennifer Lopez. Careers for you to try: Dancer, Boxer, Surgeon [Madonna, yummmmm]

Now, I realize that some of these quizilla thingies actually do understand the make up of who you are.

You Are 64% Abnormal

You are at high risk for being a psychopath. It is very likely that you have no soul.

You are at medium risk for having a borderline personality. It is somewhat likely that you are a chaotic mess.

You are at high risk for having a narcissistic personality. It is very likely that you are in love with your own reflection.

You are at medium risk for having a social phobia. It is somewhat likely that you feel most comfortable in your mom's basement.

You are at medium risk for obsessive compulsive disorder. It is somewhat likely that you are addicted to hand sanitizer.

Your Lust Quotient: 61%

You are a very lustful person - and it sometimes gets the better of you!
You know how to hold back, but you hardly ever do.

Your Chances of Being a Multimillionaire: 72%

You have a good chance of being a multimillionaire. Better than most people.
You simply have a natural knack for money and the personality for success.

Your Life Is Worth...



Word of the day for the benefit of those who don't know how to use the term is "Patronize".

1. to give (a store, restaurant, hotel etc.) one's regular patronage; trade with.

2. to behave in an offensively condescending manner toward: a professor who patronizes his students.

3. to act as a patron toward (an artist, institution, etc.); support.

Alas, the argument still is rife on the pat-ronize OR peh-tronize issue. I say, fuck E lang. Not doing any of us any good also. It's much easier to defend yourself against condescension with a "KNN, never die before ah?" rather than a "You ought to stop peh-tronizing me motherfucker!".

Also, remember my dean who loves sharing engineer jokes? Well, in order to prep us for the exams he sent us another classic. I mean, where in God's blue earth does he find these nuggets of life-changing intelligence? Sorry, I almost started patronizing. But here goes:

A group of blondes in a class at the University of Southern California were given the assignment to measure the height of a flagpole. So they went out to the flagpole with ladders and tape measures, and they're falling off the ladders, dropping the tape measures - the whole thing was just a mess.

An engineering student comes along, sees what they're trying to do, walks over, pulls the flagpole out of the ground, lays it flat, measures it from end to end, and then gives the measurement to one of the blondes and walks away.

After the engineer had gone, one blonde turned to another and laughed. "Isn't that just like a dumb engineer? We're looking for the height and he gives us the length!"

After this pep talk of a joke, I have no choice but to be inspired for my examinations where I'm sure second order differential equations can be analyzed by picturing my favourite blondes.



Campaign For Real Beauty

To all the women who insist on putting us between the devil and a hole in the earth, with your "Am I fat?" conundrums, I believe this vid is for you:

For more on Dove's Campaign For Real Beauty , click HERE.

Generated By Technorati Tag Generator


I am officially sequestered in solitude. So many things I'd like to write here to make up for the past three days but heck I guess I'll just go about the random off-tangentness that I'm used to. Of course, the phrase KNN will be littered throughout for the benefit of making it all the more authentic.

Exams are in 21 days. That's 3 weeks exactly. To all the mofos who have just decided to be "helpful" and put a countdown up in your MSN nicks, don't. It is really painful and misleading when your countdown isn't really my countdown. If you wanted to succeed to stress the hell outa all and sundry, you've got there. But it's not a good thing. I've ranked you next to "Wah, the paper i think I gonna fail, yet I got an A" blokes and "No la bro, I never study at all, yet I got an A" blokes.

The main draw of the weekend was a call from a not unknown semi-celebrity. Semi in the sense that it is in fact infamy not celebrity that led to the famous status, and the call to me. The next tale was supposed to be only for KLKillah consumption via a mass e-mail, but I think it's much easier to publish it for one and all.

With regards to a post over at KLKillahs called Scandal, the uproar that followed was phenomenal. It was actually the most commented on post we've ever put up. On our part of course, we took a floating rumour and the relevant sound clip that came with it and put it to everyone else's prerogative on how they'd like to view it. In fact, a kind soul also caught in the heat of excitement even transcripted the clip for us. So, though we didn't name any of the participants of said story, the general KLKlan still inferred what they wanted to and ran riot with the story. Thus, one of the affected parties, was affected enough to actually send me an e-mail wanting to speak to me about this. This e-mail alas went to the murky depths of the junk folder never to reach my eyes.

Thus, I got a call and this was what transpired. Not entirely word-for-word but I try my best to summarize:

1. That the story is baseless and untrue and that she was in fact hounded with prank callers and also her producer was quite ticked off enough to raise his concerns.

2. That her marriage was in fact a happy one, but the outbreak of this hoo haa is now putting a strain on it though she still has absolute trust from her husband.

3. That she and other party in the story were in fact still working together and it is not uncommon to see them outside together, but in no way they were intimate in nature.

4. That it looks like a well planned plot to smear hers and his reputations by an unsatisfied female. That this female actually tried to get a big enough platform to let this story let rip and finally chanced upon us and thus we were the victims of a con job.

5. That she had spoken to a coupla authorities and they all are in the loop.

6. That in no way does she blame us for anything that has happened because in the first place there are no legal implications on our part and the idea is just to catch the evil female to serve a coupla court suits on her.

So, after listening to all these sob stories I was a bit perturbed as to why I needed to hear them in the first place. So, I asked her, a question I've put to many a female along the years: "What is it that you want out of me?"

Her reply? "Delete the post". This got me very very pissed off indeed. So, I lashed out stating that in no way did she have any right whatsoever to demand a deletion of said post or what not because the site didn't belong to her. If she wants to legally find respite she may do so. And, I reiterated this nirvanic stance of Freedom of Speech. I mean seriously, today you, tomorrow one of the characters in Miss V, where will this stop? Why the fuck am I running an objective site of local Yindian happenings when I might as well subject myself to the same censored propaganda-ish style of The Straits Times, Today and other mainstream reads. Like Nal, put it, "it's like the Ministers need to tell something to the people but they don't do it straight, Today does it for them". Of course this quote was for a totally different topic, yet it applies here too.

Now, affected female gets off her agressive demeanour and gets ultra-polite. I am a sucka for politeness. I mean who doesn't like being treated like a worthy human? So, at the end of her polite version of her sob stories. I did agree to a compromise. Don't blame me, as I said, I'm a sucka. My concession thus was that the matter ends here. Which rightfully it should. Since, with every next post, people don't really care about the past ones unless they're out for a vendetta. My concession was to let the post and comments end there. That what has been said and done, remains. But any future comments on this post will be deleted.

This might look like I'm giving in to a complainant who had no right to do so in the first place, but I feel sometimes to compromise leads to more inroads. It's not like I gave up a whole lot. In fact, for the past week there have been zero new comments on that post at all. What is there to delete? I think I've negotiated something I can live with, cos I don't have to do anything at all about it.

The conversation ended in pleasantries and I told her to gimme a call if she ever has an issue again. But I was curious as to how she got my number in the first place, and even before that my e-mail address since she claimed the first time she accessed the site was just 2 days back. To this she replied, "Oh I got it from a friend who got it from someone who insisted that his name not be known". What am I, a 15 yr old school girl whom you're tryin to tackle with a phone number you ripped off your friend's phone and now are giving me lines like I used to give when I was that age? So, I asked, "Must be Mediacorp fellas right". She replied in the affirmative. I ended the conversation with "Theriyumeh, intha maathiri musang velai yellam ivanunga thaan seivaanga". [Translation: I know what these fuckers only will do this kinda sneaky things]

Thus, the story concludes. I hope you can read it here and not need to ask me to repeat it word for word again. It's getting tiring. Also, to one and all, like the Miss V run, this is totally something I'm bored with. Tada kick la! So, I'd appreciate it if you weren't an ignorant buffoon and just went over to KLKillahs to read it for yourself and not attempt to make me make you understand the intricacies of every relationship entwined in that tale.

Rounding up the rest of the weekend. I am quite happy and got a wake up call at the same time. Happy that I think I've found good company though it seemed like an unlikely source. *Grin* Wake-up call was when I've never realized why people get irritated that I joke about anything and everything. That I can never be serious about anything, though in actuality I am. Well, I've seen it first hand on what it feels like to communicate with a 24 hour joker. And it does get on your nerves. An eye opener indeed.