RIP Lo Hwei Yen

My deepest condolences to the family and loved ones of Lo Hwei Yen. Considerably our country's first victim to the ravages of world terrorism. She also happens to be Selven's cousin's wife for those who know of him.

Interestingly, of everyone who perished in the 9/11 disaster, were there even a few Singaporeans in the mix? I don't really remember the news on those statistics. Anyone?

Singapore Strikes

Something you would enjoy. Read it HERE.

Short Circuitz

I've always been a Saturday Night Live (SNL) kinda guy and I can watch a stand up comedy DVD transfixed like it's a brand new action flick. So, when I say, catch Nick Cannon's Short Circuitz on MTV, you should.

No one does parody like a young black dude who is another producer, actor, singer, rapper jack of all trades. Expect all popular black artistes and performers who have fan clubs dedicated to them to be on the chopping block.

Adieu.

Verbatim Don Juan

"Every woman is a mystery to be solved. But a woman hides nothing from a true lover. Her skin color can tell us how to proceed. A hue like the blush of a rose, pink and pale and she must be coaxed to open her petals with a warmth like the sun. And the pale and dappled skin of a redhead calls for the lust of a wave, crashing to the shore so that we may stir up what lies beneath and bring the foam and delight of love to the surface. Although there is no metaphor that truly describes making love to a woman, the closest is playing a rare musical instrument. I wonder does a Stradivarius violin feel the same rapture as the violinist when he coaxes a single perfect note from its heart? "

By seeing beyond what is visible to the eye. Now there are those, of course, who do not share my perceptions, it is true. When I say that all my woman are dazzling beauties, they object. The nose of this one is too large; the hips of another, they are too wide; perhaps the breasts of a third, they are too small. But I see these women for how they truly are... glorious, radiant, spectacular, and perfect... because I am not limited by my eyesight. Women react to me in the way they do, Don Octavio, because they sense that I search out the beauty that lies within until it overwhelms everything else. And then they cannot avoid their desire, to release that beauty and envelope me in it. So, to answer your question, I see as clear as day that this great edifice in which we find ourselves is your villa. It is your home and as for you, Don Octavio DeFlores, you are a great lover like myself, even though you may have lost your way and your accent. Shall I continue?

You want Don Juan de Marco, the world's greatest lover, to talk to you? What do you know of great love? Have you ever loved a woman until milk leaked from her as though she had just given birth to love itself, and now must feed it or burst? Have you ever tasted a woman until she believed that she could be satisfied only by consuming the tongue that had devoured her? Have you ever loved a woman so completely that the sound of your voice in her ear could cause her body to shudder and explode with such intense pleasure that only weeping could bring her full release?

There are only four questions of value in life, Don Octavio. What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for, and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same: only love.

Paper Tigers

Rueben, it's a gem and I'm glad I finally framed it up. Thanks much. Actually it was framed like a month back, it spent a few months on my table, and I finally worked up the anti-laziness to collect it today.

"All counter-revolutionaries are paper tigers"

This poster shows the unity of Chinese military looking afar, while their feet rest on the carton like characters representing the western world. The original was an wood block print, one of many prolific propaganda produced during the Cultural Revolution.

And now we shop at Shanghai Tang.

Nite.

Bits and Pieces

Pardon me as I clean up my desktop. And schooled in the old adage that nothing should be thrown away unless it crumbles into dust first, I insist on posting all the old jpegs I found hanging around and of no use. I'd like them to be of no use to you too. I wanted to do some photoblog thingy but my ego prevents me from posting anything that doesn't have some filigree gold leafed prose of mine attached to it. Hence, photos with captions or paragraphs which may or may not enhance the original montage.

Not in chronological order:

1. 4bia movie ticket x 1

As you might note, it was for a Thai horror flick at GV in PS at 2340H. Problem was after reaching the damn cinema at 2335H and sitting through 15 mins of commercials, the movie was never watched. I had never seen someone agree with me that quickly.

Me: Eh, why still haven't start ah?
She: Wait la wait.
Me: I tell you what, I'm gonna count to 3 and then I'm gonna up and leave. Fuck this movie. I can't be bothered to wait for it to begin.
She: Then what shall we do?
Me: Duh! Drink la.
She: On. Let's go.

And then we drank, and then we did a whole lotta other stuff. But the key point was that she agreed with me in 3 seconds flat. And yeah the whole lotta other stuff was good too (in case I am being read).

2. St. Pat's clover face tattoo

Twas January if I am not wrong. And me and Darren and Nigel and Nal (though it wasn't really a great night for her, damn SAF fuckers and their long long bitchfits), were savouring the Irish tradition of the dark liquid and declaring that there were no snakes in Ireland to that little Leprechaun who so happened to be sitting at our table too. He was muttering something about rainbows, but the only one we knew was the shop that sold goldfish and luo han in Serangoon North so he kinda left in disgust after a while.

And then there was Wendy. Wendy who made Darren come up with the "All girls who have a tattoo (tribal especially) on their lower backs HAVE to have had waitressing experience at least once in their lives. It had to be a pre-requisite." And it was definitely not my fault nor my doing that Wendy happened to put up in Ang Mo Kio too. A bit of sake, shabu shabu and sukiyaki one Wednesday evening later, this clover tattoo lost its significance on us.

3. Admission ticket to the Anime Festival Asia 08.

Having been very fired up about attending an Anime Fest, I gamely paid for Darren's ticket too in order to open his mind's eye to that world that I get ridiculed so much for just because I take an active interest in it.

In the end, I fucking hated it! WTF was going on? This was the first expo I attended and I wasn't even tempted to purchase a single thing. Not even a cheesy keychain which I am very famous for. I own so many bric-a-brac keychains and lack the keys to slide them into. I just don't know how to describe the event further. I think Darren summed it up quite succintly in this one question: "Eh, you decided to come see this thing to feel younger is it?"

Nuff said.

4. Screenshot off the La Senza webbie


Apparently, the newest La Senza creations are, wait don't flip, PussyCat Dolls lingerie. What has the world come to? And the best part is, it isn't even designed by any of those washboard tummied girls. The design stems from their manager! Robin Antin, the creator and manager of the PCD! Do I really need to go on about this? I guessed as much.

5. A weblink: "Enough with the Poking, Let's Just have Sex" Facebook Group.



I forgot I had bookmarked it to blog it like way back when policemen wore shorts (They still wear shorts though, when they're having PT training and the likes).

An extract from the main page, with minor edits because people can get longwinded when they have an audience of 402,354 as of 1700H today.

THE TEN COMMANDMENTS OF POKING

I) Never poke someone you dont know and haven't spoken to, simply because you find them attractive. Stop being obvious and gross/stalker-y.

II) Don't poke anyone you don't want to have sex with. You'd just be an asshole giving them the wrong message. If you "just want to say hello", then IM them or comment on their profile etc, and actually say hello.

III) Don't return any pokes to the person who poked you if you dont find them attractive. You'll just be leading them on. It's not cool to break unnecessary hearts.

IV) Straight men don't poke other men. It is never appropriate. End of story.

V) DONT OVER-POKE! If you're poking more out of routine than to display real affections, you're poking too much. Limiting the frequency with which you poke helps retain the value of a single poke.

VI) If your poking is becoming too frequent, you need to have sex already. Once you've been poking back and forth for a few days, it becomes time to take the poking from the internet to the bedroom...or shower, kitchen, main lounge, attic, museum, airplane, fast-food restaurant bathroom, Chuck-E-Cheese's ball-pit, etc.

VII) Be careful when you decide to hide your pokes. Hiding a poke is the same thing as a rejection, and you don't want to send the wrong message to someone you might be interested in. If you are attracted to a person but don't want to be bothered with constantly poking back and forth, just leave the poke up there, it doesn't bite.

VIII) Poke wars are retarded (see #6). The process of poking isn't fun. You're just clicking a friggin' button. The sex that comes afterwards is the fun part. Two people competing over who "gets poked last" or who "pokes the other the most" or whatever is the most ridiculous concept I've ever heard. It's like two people sitting across from each other saying "I want to have sex" back and forth but with neither of them actually doing anything. They poked you, you poked them. Now stop the poking, and go have sex.

IX) If you like being an elusive, hard-to-get poke, don't give it up too soon! Sometimes, witholding that poke for a few days can intensify the relationship. Or, if you like subtly letting others know you're angry, take a long time to return their pokes, or hide their pokes altogether. Internet poking is as mental, as real poking is physical.

X) The last, but certainly not the least important Commandment: PRACTICING SAFER POKING.

It was already stated in the First Commandment that it's wrong to poke those you dont know that you only have physical attractions for, however, creeps are out there, and it happens nonetheless. DON'T POKE PEOPLE YOU DONT KNOW. You never know who that mysterious person poking you is. You never know who they've poked, or even if they were safe pokers themselves. Unsafe poking can lead to stalker-esque relationships, both in and out of Facebook. And you never know who might give you a virus (be it spyware or herpes). Neither of us want that. Two ways to poke safer are: to completely abstain from poking (this is the only 100% safe, religiously appropriate way), and to only poke people you know. Also, putting up sexy, cute, or marginally attractive profile pictures that non-friends can see might lead to unwanted poking. Be wary...and slutty/hoish at your own risk. I recommend neutral profile pictures of puppies, flowers, or famous athletes. Doing anything else might attract attention and end disasterously!

Adieu!

How they fucked us and made us monkeys

Last night I was clinking glasses with another one who had mighty insights into life. By mighty insights I mean, the ability to convert real life factual events and figures into analogies that can be understood by the layman. Something I have to resort to doing day in day out so that the severity or seriousness of mandatory tasks is impressed upon one and all.

And thus his story starts:

You wanna know in simple terms how Merill Lynch, Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac and all the clowns who got a federal bailout managed to fuck us and make a monkey out of us. Later after this I will tell you what I want to do after seeing how easy it is.


The first story is about this man, let's call him John. So, John got to know a model who wouldn't give him the time of the day let alone let him within a metre of her back zip. Now, John who really wanted to fuck abovementioned model (hamburger not included), said "Ok, follow me to Orchard Road where everything is as expensive as can be and I will buy you anything you desire". The model, as some of them are, was overjoyed and promptly hand in hand followed John down to the shopping belt.

They popped into this high end boutique where she was mesmerized by a tote bag. The price tag read $60,000. She raised her eyebrows, he nodded. Checking the bag out at the cashier, John was asked by the employee "Sir, cash or card?". John said "Let me write you a cheque for this $60,000.". She went "Sir, it is Saturday evening now, there is no way for me to verify with the bank if this cheque will clear. And if I let you have the bag and the cheque bounces, then my manager will bounce ME out of this joint and I'll be 60K poorer". So, John counters with "Ok, I tell you what. I write you the cheque. You bank it in on Monday to see if it clears and when it does you give me a call and I'll come down to pick up the bag. Is this good for everyone?". The cashier nodded and the model had been nodding since 15 mins ago so no issue with her.

On Monday, John receives a call from the cashier. It wasn't as friendly as the way she had received him in the store. "Eh, John ah! Your cheque bounce lei! I had this funny feeling about you and I was right! So how you going to pay for the bag this time? Card or cash?".

To which John replied "It's ok. You can keep the bag. I fucked her already."

Now, the second story. Once there were 2 white men who chanced upon a deserted island on their travels. This island was filled with monkeys running haywire. There were only some indigenous natives on said island and they were governed by the village chief. So, the 2 white men approached the village chief who was more interested in adding hash to his pipe than what they were talking about and gave him a proposal.


"Chief, we are very interested in purchasing the monkeys on your island because there is demand for them back in our homeland. Can you sell them?"

"How much do you want to buy one for?"

"We'll pay you 10 dollars a monkey."

"Hmmmm"

After 30 seconds of pondering, because that was how long it took before the opium had to be refilled (the chief had big lungs), he agreed and sent out his men to capture every monkey they could find. In the end, there were 1000 monkeys and the white men duly paid him 10 bucks a monkey and left.

6 months later, one of the white men returns alone and seeks an audience with the chief.

"Chief, my partner and I are doing good business with the monkeys. But, now we need more. How many do you have?"

"White Man, I only have about 30 to 40 monkeys left."

"That isn't enough. I'll need at least hundreds to be profitable. Ok, I tell you what. I am not on very good terms with my partner anyway. Why don't I take some of the old monkeys from his stock and sell it to you for 40 bucks each. Then, later you can sell it back to him for 55 bucks and cut me 5 bucks commission per monkey. In this way, we both make money and I can rip him off too and split from this company. What say you?"

The chief pondered for another 30 seconds and agreed to his proposal. I mean, how could you not trust a man who wanted to make you money? So, the white man brought 500 monkeys and sold it off at 40 bucks a pop and promised to return with his partner in a week to buy the same monkeys back in an elaborate con job attempt.

The white man never returned. The chief gained a new title: "Chief Fucking Stupid Monkey".




Now can you comprehend what just happened to the US economy?

Stevie Me

If Jonathan watched this clip, he'd swear to God, he experiences Stephen the mad Irishman each day in me. As for me, "it's my island". From 02:00 onwards, concentrate.

Adieu!

The Credit Addict

Can you even achieve this?


Impossible right.

Only me baby, only me.

What's new? What credit crunch? I run an overdraft like it's my day job baby. Booyakasha.

Cao

"I'd rather betray the world than let the world betray me."
Cao Cao

Lazy but Fair

Being so proud of having an opinion on everything big or small. Of course, being more proud for reacting big to small things and having a small opinion on big things, it came of course as utter irony that I was described as laissez faire the day before yesterday. [it's audit season]

Maybe it was the technical recession that brought back faint memories of the Great Depression ultimately brought about by laissez faire capitalism.


Laissez Faire: the practice or doctrine of noninterference in the affairs of others, esp. with reference to individual conduct or freedom of action.

Non-interference? Me? I rest my case. I interfere where even interference is not required dude.

I think it all stemmed from my daily "wazzup bro?".

Adieu!

Wish my Fly

It's that time of year where people apparently send cards out to whomever they ought to be lighting on fire, i mean celebrating deepavalli with.

When will people realize that this card business is meaningless? It has no roots, no traditions a la someone's Christmas Card list. Now, that is a fuckin list! Because it stands the test of time I figure. Ask yourself, truly. Do you really send Deepavalli greeting cards to the same people each year? Or only to the ones who will scowl the next time you see them at weddings and funerals and the friends who are at the top of your minds that year?

Also, how come the abbreviation for FAMILY is FLY?

A typically worded card that reaches my household:

"Wishing XXXXXX XXXXXX & FLY a Happy Deepavalli!"

My dad is grateful that you thought of him enough to invest in that 22 cent stamp. However, his crotch or button-fly Levi's for that matter need not celebrate this festival as exuberantly as he does.

It's just 3 letters more. It aint grounds for an abbreviation. Even the word "abbreviation" doesn't have an abbreviation you lazy pricks.


Have a good Festival of Lights. Light your smokes. Light your bongs. Set your enemies alight.

Adieu!

Arai Na?

Women are the same the world over.

She: I'm back at the club we used to go every night.
Me: That's nice, have fun.
She: There's this guy, he's following me around all night.
Me: So, what you gonna do?
She: He wants my number.
Me: And?
She: I said I have a boyfriend.
Me: Good for you.
She: But he's the Boss of this place, he still wants my number.
Me: I think I am going out to club now and the first pretty girl I see, I will ask her to follow me home.

[silence for the next 2 hours]

She: I didn't give my number.

[I'm silent for the next 2 days]

She: My heart is broken. But it still beats on. [pardon the poetic hollywood script. non native speakers are like that]

Me: Good. Now how?
She: I miss you.
Me: Good answer.


Adieu!

Bullshit

My humble apologies for not updating. I thought of penning something on the 16th to mark a 1 month anniversary for being too lazy to boot up but as usual I missed that deadline too. I'm currently busy with many many stuff:

1. Watching people try and accomplish in a few weeks what they should have been doing through the last year. [Cue: Audit time]

2. Watching Obama beat up "I got my wig all wrong" McCain. And watching Palin insist Russia is her neighbour and thus she WOULD have been the best woman to avert the Cold War. [Cue: Gorbachev pissing in Alaskan fishing waters and feeding cyanide to some moose]

3. Wondering how anyone could ever not love a country where they put actual lime fruits into the urinals so even your piss smells sweet. [Cue: Long Live The King, The Royal Monarch of Thailand]

4. Wondering what to do with my 3/4 full Absolut. No mixer in sight also. [Cue: Drunken sex]

5. Thinking how brilliant people are to promise me a gift for my birthday and then wait till I get out of town for 2 weeks and hope that I forget. That's fuckin like pledging 300 million when Katrina hit and then the world realizes only 300,000 was ever transferred in cold hard cash from gahmen to gahmen.

Adieu!

Bastardized Illness

Why you shouldn't talk about your medical status over beer:

Someone: Hey, where you at?
AR: Bro, I on 2 week MC man.
Someone: How come man!
AR: Slipdisc.
Someone: Oh!

After the gossip had made the rounds round the tables.

Me: Eh, where's AR? Don't think he'd miss this party though?
Someone Else: You don't know ah, He 2 week MC.
Me: Oh how come?
Someone Else: Syphilis bro.
Me: SERIOUS boh?
Someone Else: See see he just walked in, haha. speak of the devil. by the way, do you think his crotch looks swollen?
Me: ...

The Annual Medical

We people in aviation have this need to clear an annual full medical. Even though, car accidents number 100 times more than aircraft crashes in any given year, we allow old fogeys to either hog the road / signal right and turn left / drive with their nose to the windshield because apparently they will always be medically fit to handle a 4 wheeler.

But, rules are rules and since mine was about to lapse, I did the unthinkable. Booked it on my off day. Me and my penchant for unrecorded OT.

All the stations were fine except when I got to the ENT doctor. After doing her usual checks and all, she does the mandatory, "Say ah......". So I do. What she commented on, gave me the answer to questions I've been fielding myself and invisible beings around me for years. The answer to why I don't chug down my beer instead preferring to civilly gulp it instead. And why, I can't wolf down food preferring instead to chew them with me molars before letting them pass. She went:


"Do you snore a lot?"
"No. why? Perhaps a little la, I've had people say"
"Your throat passage is quite small, very tight. When you sleep, I suggest you sleep on your side so that you don't end up snoring"
"Ah, but that's good news aint it?"
"Why?"
"No one can ever accuse me of deep throating and sucking off my boss. It would be physically impossible"
"Somehow I agree."
"Thanks Doc. You the bomb"
"I am?"
"Yeah, except you shouldn't paint your lips purple when you're wearing a purple power suit. Overkill."
"Point taken"


Small throats, large apples.

Just Me

This be the tribute to the man who has supplied me with quotes, laughter and general "big up" high 5s the whole week long.

When trying to chat up a girl he ALREADY knows for quite a while and eventually freaking the hell outa her:

"First we can be friends la, later we see how..."

When putting on a silicone cover for his camera phone, he manages to flip it the wrong side round, making the hole in the cover not aligned with the camera lens. This has been the case for a couple of months since he first got the cover. When finally corrected he goes:

"I always knew there was something wrong with it la..."

When the market ball handicap for Man U versus the Pool later tonight was only level, this die hard Liverpudlian places a bet with someone who actually knows his gambling:

"Ok la.. I'll take Liverpool and give you 1.5 balls."
"On. What's the bet?"
"1 carton of bourbon"
"On."

15 minutes later after getting the expert advice of people who DO know their gambling, he goes back to bettor in question:

"We'll double confirm this 15 mins before the game starts"
"No way."

Adieu!

Join Media Cock

I know a lot of you aspire to act. Perhaps just a temp pass into Caldecott Hill would suffice so you can go steal Dawn Yeoh's undies. But don't say I don't have the good stuff for you. Go for the casting call.

Click HERE.

Adieu!

Air Force Open House 08

It all culminated with a huge piss up [not full participation due to high levels of fatigue] and me heading out to catch the Liverpool Game [they drew with Villa] with a new found friend.

The Open House [henceforth referred to as OH] was 4 days straight for us. 2 internal and 2 external. It was horrid in terms of working on weekends and psycho-ing ourselves that it was just another weekday.

But I love carnivals. Heck, I could live in a carnival all year round just walking the fairgrounds, playing the rides, collecting souvenirs and acting tour guide to the noobs. Unfortunately, no nation in the world can support a year round carnival. Even Brazil. Even Ibiza.

Some snapshots from OH, stolen off Flickr. I stole so many I just didn't have the time to like note down the owners. To youse, you have my sincere apologies. But what is the Internet, but a legal way to commit petty intellectual theft now and then? These are all glamour shots taken with probably high end DSLRs. Talkin about pictures, it's such a bitch taking photos with other people's cameras. Takes ages to come to you, they put it up in FB and it becomes THEIR album and you're just a spectatorial "tag". The demerits are endless. So, if you have an old digital camera you wanna garage sale off, it's my birthday this weekend; you'd better just donate it to me. All nicely gift wrapped with a card saying how much you love me of course.

Foreign workers having a blast.

Even they have a camera. Nabei I don't have. However, we were expecting throngs of our foreign nationals on Sunday but the response was subdued.

Little Miss Photographer. She hot.

The final segment of the air show.

First F16 breaking formation to come in to land. Overall, to us who work with these blokes day in day out, the airshow wasn't something so exciting. But you know the general public.. who think "work in airforce ah? pilot ah?". Yeah, these people got some of their grey matter rumbled out of position with the loud exhaust and jet fuel induced "high", so they definitely went "ooooooh and aaaaaaaah".

There were joyrides and all.

C130, Chinook, Fokker 50 and Piper Warrior. This be the estate of Punggol taken from the back of a C130 by a joyrider. Some of my blokes got the chance to ride it too. I politely declined. I've got two 6 hour flights on this mean machine comin up this month. Not something to relish. Always fly commercial. They got bloody stewardesses for starters!

The monsoon, or whatever bastardized El Nino or La Nina wreaked havoc all 4 days. Rain was so passe once you had spent more than an hour out there. Dark clouds coming up to wolf the sun down over here.

The boy needs a haircut.

Shades are mandatory. As I explained to a dude who recently joined our ranks: "The difference between the air force and anybody else is that we not only strive to do a good job like all of them, we have this inherent need to look good while doing it".

Why do I type with so much text in italicized brackets? That's cos I always have something to say, and half way thru typing I still want to interject myself and say something more. Character trait. Deal with it.

The Birthday Clock - 4 Days

It is 4 days to my birthday. As I masquerade as an unloved child, lots of presents are appreciated. Do contact me for the appropriate mailing address, my waist/chest/bum/shoe sizes or POSB bank account numbers so you can do the necessary and spread the pre-recession cheers around.

Believe it or not, cake's from Angie The Choice.

Again, BUY ME PRESENT! I WANT! 6th September. Put it in your mobile's calendar and sync it with your PC lest technology makes you forget.

If you're on FB, you ought to click this: THIS.