Word Play

Today is English and word play day. Amazingly, it really helps to grab attention and take close to 1hr 15 mins off your 1.5 hour tuition slot. Back to the old adage where no one who works actually does any work.

An Anti-American researcher:

Only in America do drugstores make the sick walk all the way to the back of the store to get their prescriptions while healthy people can buy cigarettes at the front.

Only in America do people order double cheeseburgers, large fries and a diet coke.

Only in America do banks leave both doors open and then chain the pens to the counters.

Only in America do we leave cars worth thousands of dollars in the driveway and put our useless junk in the garage.

Only in America do we buy hot dogs in packages of ten and buns in packages of eight.

Only in America do we use the word 'politics' to describe the process so well: 'Poli' in Latin meaning 'many' and 'tics' meaning 'bloodsucking creatures'.

Only in America do they have drive-up ATM machines with Braille lettering.

The "Make your form teacher make you stand on one leg on the table" questions:

Why the sun lightens our hair, but darkens our skin?

Why women can't put on mascara with their mouth closed?

Why don't you ever see the headline "Psychic Wins Lottery"?

Why is "abbreviated" such a long word?

Why is it that doctors call what they do "practice"?

Why is lemon juice made with artificial flavor, and dishwashing liquid made with real lemons?

Why is the man who invests all your money called a broker?

Why is the time of day with the slowest traffic called rush hour?

Why isn't there mouse-flavored cat food?

Why didn't Noah swat those two mosquitoes?

Why do they sterilize the needle for lethal injections?

You know that indestructible black box that is used on airplanes? Why don't they make the whole plane out of that stuff?!

Why don't sheep shrink when it rains?

Why are they called apartments when they are all stuck together?

If con is the opposite of pro, is Congress the opposite of progress?

If flying is so safe, why do they call the airport the terminal?

For the "Guy who never got over Da Vinci Code":

DORMITORY: DIRTY ROOM

PRESBYTERIAN: BEST IN PRAYER

ASTRONOMER: MOON STARER

DESPERATION: A ROPE ENDS IT

THE EYES: THEY SEE

GEORGE BUSH: HE BUGS GORE

THE MORSE CODE : HERE COME DOTS

SLOT MACHINES: CASH LOST IN ME

ANIMOSITY: IS NO AMITY

ELECTION RESULTS: LIES - LET'S RECOUNT

SNOOZE ALARMS: ALAS! NO MORE Z 'S

A DECIMAL POINT: I'M A DOT IN PLACE

THE EARTHQUAKES: THAT QUEER SHAKE

ELEVEN PLUS TWO: TWELVE PLUS ONE

MOTHER-IN-LAW: WOMAN HITLER

And because you have been so patient to witness my skillful cut and paste from chain email job, I shall give you a link. Something you should hit before hitting the library. Click HERE.

Job Titillation

Ok, here's a brain knocking competition for you. You know how a lift operator can be a multi level systems engineer? And others in the same vein.

Well, have a go at these job descriptions and give me out of the world job titles. Place answers in comments section. For inspiration to kick start your noggin, go over THESE first.

Job Description 1

- Interpret accounts and use trend and ratio analyses
- Manage the company’s cash flow
- Keep financial records and prepare year-end financial statements for shareholders
- Ensure checks and balances in the financial system

Job Description 2

- Prepare lessons that engage and stimulate students
- Monitor students’ social development through counselling and working with parents and other partners
- Plan and facilitate co-curricular activities, programmes and school functions

Job Description 3

- Design and code instructions in a suitable computer programming language
- Write documentation that describes installation and opening procedures
- Work with system designers to debug or correct errors in the code
- Produce a list of program functions for users to follow

Church Humour

Taken off chain mail: There was a church that had problems with outsiders parking in its parking lots, so they put up signs from time to time. Some of these were of course viewer contributions and not real signs. All I gotta say is some people have WAY too much time on their hands. Which is why God invented, Ctrl+C and Ctrl+V.

CHURCH CARPARK SIGNS:

CHURCH CAR PARK - FOR MEMBERS ONLY
Trespassers will be baptized!"

PASTOR'S SPOT
YOU PARK, YOU PREACH

CHURCH SIGN BOARDS:

"No God - No Peace"
"Know God - Know Peace."

"Free Trip to Heaven."
"Details Inside!"

"Try our Sundays."
"They're better than Dairy Queen's".

"Searching for a new look?"
"Have your faith lifted here!"

"People are like tea bags."
"You have to put them in hot water before you know how strong they are."

"Fight truth decay."
"Study the Bible daily."

"How will you spend eternity?"
"Smoking or Non-smoking?"

"Dusty Bibles lead to Dirty Lives."

"It is unlikely there'll be a reduction in the wages of sin."

"Do not wait for the hearse to take you to church."

"If you're headed in the wrong direction, God allows U-turns."

"If you don't like the way you were born, try being born again. "

"Looking at the way some people live, they ought to obtain eternal fire insurance soon."

"This is a ch_ _ ch."
"What is missing? - (U R)"

"In the dark?"
"Follow the Son."

"Running low on faith?"
"Step in for a fill-up."

"If you can't sleep, don't count sheep."
"Talk to the Shepherd."

"Come work for the Lord."
"The work is hard, the hours are long and the pay is low. But the retirement benefits are out of this world."

An ad for one Church has a picture of two hands holding stone tablets on which the Ten Commandments are inscribed and a headline that reads, "For fast, fast, fast relief, take two tablets."

When the restaurant next to another Church put out a big sign with red letters that said, "Open Sundays," the church reciprocated with its own message: "We are open on Sundays, too."

church, humour, joke, sign
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Ai Pia Jia Eh Ya

When I used to be Chinese [back in the days of "you cut ah neh, he's yellow inside"], I'm pseudo Malay now; this was the only song you needed to know every other KTV session, coffeeshop drinking session and general burst into song due to merry mood. It earns you tons of brownie points especially since your surname has no Chinese influence in it anyway.

Other good artistes to harmonize are Teresa Teng [Tian Mi Mi, Ni Wen Wo Ai] and evergreen 4 Heavenly Kings' ballads. Aaron Kwok, Andy Lau, Leslie Cheung and Leon Lai.

jit xi xi ji em mien wan kan
jit xi lo bie em mien tan han
na tang xi ki hee bang mui li jui bang bang
boh huen wu teh qin chiu biu chao lang
jin xing ko bi si hai xiong eh po long
wu xi ki wu xi lo ho yun pai yun
zong ma jiao ki kang lai kia
sa hun ti chu tia chit hun ko pa pia
ai pia jia eh yiah

Meaning of song: If you chiong, you sure win.

Adieu!

ROE

Has anyone noticed that the much affable and androgynous [by name only] Minister, Vivian USED to make sense to us. And then suddenly he looks and sounds like he has been cast in the same mould of countless members of his party before his time?

The Government is now coming up with Rules of Engagement for new media. New media meaning blogs, random sites and bulletin boards. Anywhere where a member of our country can put up his words and thoughts for all to view will encapsulate new media. That, the birth of the Internet proper has been dated back to 1990 points to actually a 17 year lag between realizing, analyzing and reacting towards the emergence of the new way of the Jedi, the online way.

These are some excerpts from CNA's feature last night:

The government will continue to set political agendas and rules of engagement in the face of the new media, and will not be dictated by online petitions or polls.

And while it will try to balance the diverse interests of the society when it comes to issues of sex, nudity and violence online, it said it would not hesitate to prosecute those who post seditious or racially offensive content in cyberspace.

"All we need is the government to selectively target those who pose a clear risk to the real world. Consequently, we have seen no need to suppress new media unless specific laws are broken by posting seditious or racially offensive content which has come to our attention and gained traction in our society.

Similarly, when it comes to alternative lifestyle, sex, nudity, violence or coarse language in cyberspace, the government will practise what is called 'ceremonial censorship' � drawing a line in cyberspace but taking into account the evolution of society.

Dr Balakrishnan feels the most potent impact the new media will have on politics is that politicians will find it hard to lie in future as there will always be citizens who will publish the truth in blogs or online.

"So what really keeps me awake at night is the excitement of being able to live through a revolution. Just like you, I stay at the side and watch it all happen in our lifetime," added Dr Balakrishnan.

That the hardline term of ROE has been used to term this effort goes to only insinuate that a military/policing method will be applied to the topic at hand. However, what use is indicating clear OB markers for racially seditious, sex-filled, violence inspired posts when it is even unclear what is exactly sedition, too violent and too sexy? Basically, what we can look forward to are certain laws that will in fact govern the uncertain. Stuff where offensiveness is graded not by a numerical scale but in fact by emotions and opinions. Very real laws and punishments will in fact govern the intangible.

The government also has swore off even giving a slightest bit of credibility to online polls or petitions. A carefully placed stumbling block perhaps as the usage of the virtual world is right about the only way to activate large numbers of people to your cause instead of approaching them individually. So, if you are not in support of future policies, forget about petitioning the lawmakers online, instead do it old school and clamber up and down 25 flights of stairs attempting to collect signatures. In simpler terms, if you disagree, prepare to work your ass off.

"Selectively target". We have heard this term so many times from all the different ministers concerning a myriad of topics that it has become a Singaporean cliche. Select and Target could well be synonyms and to place them together in a phrase and use it millions of times over the years just speaks of a slight word-con job. It could also mean that instead of broad based "one size fits all" laws of the future and new media. Expect active policing, where relevant agencies like the SPF and MDA perhaps are on the trawl daily to catch sedition and violence and sex red handed, freshly posted.

What I could never understand was ceremonial censorship. What the fuck does this term mean? I censor you just because it has become a tradiitonal thing to do so. We traditionally have refused to recognize and allow the gay community to emerge as a group capable of fitting into society's entangled web so we term them "alternative lifestyle" and still push them under the carpet?

Vivian's point that politicians will not lie in future due to citizen journalism I feel is too far fetched to be even incorporated into a non-biased article. Come on dude, this is Singapore. Even if hypothetically, some dude knew that you shoplifted those WWF stickers and got caught and caned way back in Primary 4, no one is gonna fucking come forward to expose you. Especially if you are in the ruling party. Do you really think they would now do so under the cloak of anonymity on a blog? Nay. Even primary schoolers know what an IP address stands for. You need more than new media to wipe out this sense of fear of repercussions. You'd need a revolution.

Here's where my point of Vivian starting NOT to make sense in recent times comes alight in true form: "So what really keeps me awake at night is the excitement of being able to live through a revolution. Just like you, I stay at the side and watch it all happen in our lifetime". A classic "NNB, Don't bluff me la." moment?

Adieu!

Cab Convo

I have this inclination to get along with cab drivers. As long as they are not blur cunts and a half, un-tortoise like in speed and do not exhibit any signs of gross unhygiene.

The opening gambit with whatever tale is definitely to set the tone that I know exactly what the bloke is grumbling about since my pops is a cab driver too. Just last week from Marine Parade to AMK, I met one such man.

History:

Ex-minimart owner who realized that just because the tills are full doesn't mean the wallets are full after all the accounting is done.

Has 1 son who graduated in sports psychology, is based in Aussie and requests for truckloads of Maggi Mee to be shipped to him each month cos food is so expensive over there.

Has 1 daughter who works in DHL and handles the shipping, free.

Has dreams of God, Tua Pek Kong in particular and through these dreams has amassed a cumulative total of $1 million in 4D winnings to date.

A portion of our conversation in these 2 videos. Darkness cloaks his identity. Other topics that we discussed were:

1. China women and how they make taxi drivers go bankrupt.

2. Kelong in soccer.

3. The Singapore Government.

4. How to constantly cuss in Hokkien and make it seem au naturale. My kinda guy. Everybody now, Nabei Cheebai! KNN.

And so my esteemed audience, it is my sincere belief that in order to show off the true flavour of our nation. The kaleidoscope that is us. We should employ all cab drivers as the designated tour guides. The ideal travelogue option would be to sit through a 1 hour coffeeshop chat with one of these highly intellectual and prized individuals and not to sit on open-top buses to be brought to public attractions that have definitely seen better days.

This was my 1 hour chat [paid by him of course, AFTER a steep discount on my fare]:

Puke Pit Stop

Finally hit the "View Drafts" button and found a piece that should have seen the light of day back in the days when I still inhabited AMK.

Recently, my block underwent a flurry of touch up and maintenance works. The water tank on the roof was cleaned up, new water pipes replaced the old ones [with a horrid full day cut water supply], vandalism scrubbed off the walls [loanshark msgs] and common areas given a good cut+wash+blow+colour.

I only managed to notice one of these changes though immediately because it was ultimately screaming for attention. I mean what kinda bozos paint a 2 foot by 2 foot square onto concrete? It's almost like putting up a sign saying "Someone fucked this up, and we repaired it with the most economical thing we could do". View the disaster:


Now what exactly was below that painted square? Ah, for this we need to rewind time back to the days when I was 19 and stumbling home dead drunk almost every single time I managed to get off the booze. It was a fateful night shared by the three of us. SOHK, myself and the shortie [unnamed because he's easily identifiable by the undergrads who read me]. I still can't recollect where we went to get the boozing done, what I do recall vividly was the aftermath.

Without any trust that the shortie could get back without being stretchered back, I offered my home as a pit stop to rest the weary bones and mind and to set off in the morning. I live on the 8th floor. That's a 4 flight of stairs climb from the 6th. He managed to hold it in up the first 3 but gave up before the final ascent. I would describe the final artwork on the floor as a "splat". If you can't picture a splat, here's something it would have looked like except the insides were of course half digested Chinese seafood.


So, the tale continues with shortie puking his guts out [at least that's what we thought]. We ended up in my flat and my mum graciously puts out this massive bed in the hall for all 3 drunkards to rest our heads. I insisted on sleeping on my own bed, it is not a good feeling to share a resting place with 2 others whose alcohol breath could get you to puke too.

So, shortie lay down, for a maximum of 3 seconds. He turned over on his side and went at it again. No matter how much you've drunk, this is the kind of episode that just kicks you right out of that illusionary state and into the real world. In Tamil, suuru thelinjitdu. Me and SOHK scramble to move the infidel to the washroom region where puke is easily washed away and need not be recalled in the morning in sober aftermath. Shortie lies at the entrance of my toilet, puking air for the next 15 minutes. The mum is woken up as usual [she's a light sleeper] and she does some minor clean up at the bed area.

Entire saga finishes like 45 fuckin minutes later with all 3 of us nestled into that huge mattress waiting for sunlight so everyone can haul ass and not face the matriarch in embarassment.

Lesson learnt? Don't throw up in places where "I know what you did last summer" syndrome hits you. Instead, observe the subtle steps you can undertake to ensure an evidence-less puke fest.

1. Select more appropriate location such as this:

2. View benefits of location:

a. Over the railing food particles and liquids do not litter the ground floor but instead the 7th floor parapet.

b. Parapet is a habitat for sparrows and the occasional mynah. All egested food is quickly ingested by 9 am the next morning.

c. In the event, that very very drunkeness prevents proper aiming over the railing, fertilize the flower pots instead. Soil is a very useful tool. Dig deep and cover after use.


Adieu!

Conjunction-itis

I am not totally prepared to push out the new place post because I'd like it to be more comprehensive than what I already have at hand. All I will say for starters is that I have not felt such pride ever before. Not even topping the PSLE at my school, nor my commissioning parade.

In other news, apart from the Sumatran earthquake [like it doesn't happen all the time for there to be a furore now], my entire family was hit with conjunctivitis. One of the perils of driving a cab for 12 hours a day is that you end up ingesting a whole lotta germs and bacteria you wouldn't have come into contact with. This in conjunction with the already aching right and left feet and back and butt. I is feel my "lao pa's" pain.

So, I turned up at home to get the final stuff. All boxed up and ready to go. A bit saddening really, that in 24 years, all my worldly possessions only filled 3 big boxes and a cart [computer stuff]. My mum had this cool eyeglasses on. The word that flashed through my mind was "pimp". In fact "a clockwork orange" also came to mind. Bottomline? They were hideous. Oval BLUE lenses. She looked like a fashion disaster. I had to rescue her. So, I fished out my never used Ray Bans [filched off one of the Malay blokes who end up losing their accessories when they gain more alcohol] and placed it on her. Now, she looked good. Like a first class fashion icon good enough to share the stage with Sting or Bono in one of their charity concerts.

Candid Shot. Attempt 1.

Posed shot. After adjusting her top, gold chain and grinning for the phone camera.

The dad however had already procured a pair of shades that kinda set alive his film star fantasies. Problem was, he took great offence that I said he resembled MGR. He was a die-die Sivaji fan. The only bit I couldn't fathom was that he kept complaining the flashlight I was testing out wasn't bright enough. Duh? You're wearing shades!


So, trying not to look into their eyes, I kinda cleaned house and ciaoed. All was well till my eye started to ache. A coupla eyedrops later I thought I was clean and retired for the night. Bad mistake. One puffy eyed shanker got up in the morning. The blokes at school all but had to threaten to beat up on me to get me to go to the doctor's. So, I did.

Story still hasn't ended. Now, the girlfriend is also sore-eyed and dazed and thinking of how best to escape the drudgery of work life. I is feel her pain too. In fact, I feel the pain of all sore eyed mofos in the world. Now all that's left to do is to punish the evil "I can undress you with my eyes" looking foreign workers in my block. I'll get to that later. A little discharge on all the lift buttons should do the trick.

Live evil.

Since, I haven't entertained for long. Do enjoy these links I managed to find and waste more company time doing your private stuff. Because, you're worth it.

1. You know how pissed we get when someone in the USA still thinks Singapore is a part of China? Run through here to see other "myths" of doofuses around the world. Amazing stuff, HERE.

2. Whatever happened to "wax on wax off" Karate Kid? For more of "where are they now?" trivia, browse this site, HERE.

Adieu!

Late

Apologies for the late showing. I is without internet access. Will be back with photos and descrips. Hopefully.

Cheers

Adieu!

Tomorrow-ed!

Another first. I've been tomorrow-ed! For those who are too stone-aged to know what's tomorrow.sg, have a look at the site and it's pretty elementary what it's about.

My 500 clicks and 24 hours of fame: HERE
The post that got me there: HERE
Flagged by bro DOM: HERE

And to everyone who came here from there, feel free to look around. I is genius.

Adieu!

Of Implants and Viagra

In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth and populated the Earth with broccoli, cauliflower and spinach, green and yellow and red vegetables of all kinds, so Man and Woman would live long and healthy lives.

Then using God's great gifts, Satan created Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream and Krispy Crème Donuts.And Satan said, 'You want chocolate with that'? And Man said, 'Yes! Then Woman said, 'And as long as you're at it, add some sprinkles'. And they gained 10 pounds. And Satan smiled.

Then God created healthful yogurt so Woman might keep the figure that Man found so fair. And Satan brought forth white flour from the wheat, and sugar from the cane and combined them. And Woman went from size 6 to size14.

So God said,'Try my fresh green salad. And Satan presented Thousand-Island Dressing, buttery croutons and garlic toast on the side. And Man and Woman unfastened their belts following the repast.

God then said, 'I have sent you heart healthy vegetables and olive oil in which to cook them.' And Satan brought forth deep fried fish and chicken-fried steak so big it needed its own platter. And Man gained more weight and his cholesterol went through the roof.

God then created a light, fluffy white cake, named it 'Angel Food Cake', and said, 'It is good'. Satan then created chocolate cake and named it 'Devil's Food'.

God then brought forth running shoes so that His children might lose those extra pounds. And Satan gave cable TV with a remote control so Man would not have to toil changing the channels.And Man and Woman laughed and cried before the flickering blue light and gained pounds.

Then God brought forth the potato, naturally low in fat and brimming with nutrition. And Satan peeled off the healthful skin and sliced the starchy center into chips and deep-fried them. And Man gained pounds.

God then gave lean beef so that Man might consume fewer calories and still satisfy his appetite. And Satan created McDonald's and its 99-cent double cheeseburger.Then said,'You want fries with that'? And Man replied, 'Yes....and super size them'! And Satan said,'It is good'.

And Man went into cardiac arrest. God sighed and created quadruple bypass surgery. Then Satan created Healthcare Management Orgs.


Thought for the day:

There is more money being spent on breast implants and Viagra today than on Alzheimer's research.

This means that by 2040, there should be a large elderly population with perky boobs and huge erections, and absolutely no recollection of what to do with them.

Link Treats:

1. Buy me a watch from HERE

2. If you need good sound effects for audiophilia, get it HERE. MystiKal take note, another resource for our side-projek.

Shift Happens

If you are:

1. Raising a small child [Nal]

2. Studying in a tertiary institution in a specialized course [Most of us]

3. Just need to be brought down to earth [Rest of the civilized world]

You have to sit through this. It's 7 ++ mins long but it's worth it.

1st Round KO

NEW YORK - Idaho resident Kathy Evans brought humiliation to her friends and family Tuesday when she set a new standard for stupidity with her appearance on the popular TV show, "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire."

It seems that Evans, a 32-year-old wife and mother of two, got stuck on the first question, and proceeded to make what fans of the show are dubbing "the absolute worst use of lifelines ever."

After being introduced to the show's host Meredith Vieira, Evans assured her that she was ready to play, whereupon she was posed with an extremely easy $100 question. The question was:

"Which of the following is the largest?"

A) A Peanut
B) An Elephant
C) The Moon
D) Hey, who you calling large?

Immediately Mrs. Evans was struck with an all consuming panic as she realized that this was a question to which she did not readily know the answer.

"Hmm, oh boy, that's a toughie," said Evans, as Vieira did her level best to hide her disbelief and disgust. "I mean, I'm sure I've heard of some of these things before, but I have no idea how large they would be."

Evans made the decision to use the first of her three lifelines, the 50/50. Answers A and D were removed, leaving her to decide which was bigger, an elephant or the moon. However, faced with an incredibly easy question, Evans still remained unsure.

"Oh! It removed the two I was leaning towards!" exclaimed Evans. "Darn. I think I better phone a friend."

Using the second of her two lifelines on the first question, Mrs. Evans asked to be connected with her friend Betsy, who is an office assistant.

"Hi Betsy! How are you? This is Kathy! I'm on TV!" said Evans, wasting the first seven seconds of her call. "Ok, I got an important question. Which of the following is the largest? B, an elephant, or C, the moon. 15 seconds hun."

Betsy quickly replied that the answer was C, the moon. Evans proceeded to argue with her friend for the remaining ten seconds.

"Come on Betsy, are you sure?" said Evans. "How sure are you? Puh, that can't be it."

To everyone's astonishment, the moronic Evans declined to take her friend's advice and pick 'The Moon.'

"I just don't know if I can trust Betsy. She's not all that bright. So I think I'd like to ask the audience," said Evans.

Asked to vote on the correct answer, the audience returned 98% in favor of answer C, 'The Moon.' Having used up all her lifelines, Evans then made the dumbest choice of her life.

"Wow, seems like everybody is against what I'm thinking," said the too-stupid-to-live Evans. "But you know, sometimes you just got to go with your gut. So, let's see. For which is larger, an elephant or the moon, I'm going to have to go with B, an elephant. Final answer."


Evans sat before the dumbfounded audience, the only one waiting with bated breath, and was told that she was wrong, and that the answer was in fact, C, 'The Moon.'

And these same citizens of America get to vote the leader of the foremost superpower of the modern world and in so doing affect the lives and livelihoods of many other nations who depend on them for trade, protection and alliances.

Adieu!

No Overtime

I come from an organization where overtime is not paid time. You do overtime on your own account and tons of people do. At least 10 hours a week they stay longer then they have to just to clear their workload. I've never had to stay beyond the stipulated knock off time because I don't see the point. If these people stayed back cos their workload was humungous they should have just reflected that up to their boss. If they stayed back cos they just work slow during the normal hours while still maintaining their 1/2 hour breakfast and tea breaks and 1 hour lunch break; I thought "OBI GOOD".

I once had a superior who also saw things my way. He looked down on those who did overtime because it just pointed to one disability or the other in the way they do their work. He said

"I also used to be like them. Then I thought to myself, KNN how come the others go home on time and not me? They so much better than me meh? Cannot be what, I'm better than most of them. So, I tweaked the way I work and never feared leaving work to be done tomorrow. Really cannot do today what you want me to to do? Work for free ah?"

Here's an excerpt by Narayana Murthy of Infosys Technologies during a mentor session at a big IT firm in India:

I know people who work 12 hours a day, six days a week, or more. Some people do so because of a work emergency where the long hours are only temporary. Other people I know have put in these hours for years. I do not know if they are working all these hours, but I do know they are in the office this long. Others put in long office hours because they are addicted to the workplace.

Whatever the reason for putting in overtime, working long hours over the long term is harmful to the person and to the organization. There are things managers can do to change this for everyone's benefit. Being in the office long hours, over long periods of time, makes way for potential errors.

My colleagues who are in the office long hours frequently make mistakes caused by fatigue. Correcting these mistakes requires their time as well as the time and energy of others. I have seen people work Tuesday through Friday to correct mistakes made after 5 PM on Monday.

Another problem is that people who are in the office long hours are not pleasant company. They often complain about other people (who are not working as hard); they are irritable, or cranky, or even angry. Other people avoid them. Such behaviour poses problems, where work goes much better when people work together instead of avoiding one another.



As Managers, there are things we can do to help people leave the office.
First and foremost is to set the example and go home ourselves. I work
with a manager who chides people for working long hours. His words
quickly lose their meaning when he sends these chiding group e-mails
with a time-stamp of
2 AM, Sunday.

Second is to encourage people to put some balance in their lives. For
instance, here is a guideline I find helpful:
1) Wake up, eat a good breakfast, and go to work.
2) Work hard and smart for eight or nine hours.
3) Go home.
4) Read the books/comics, watch a funny movie, dig in the dirt, play
with your kids, etc.
5) Eat well and sleep well.

This is called recreating. Doing steps 1, 3, 4, and 5 enable step 2. Working regular hours and recreating daily are simple concepts. They are hard for some of us because that requires 'personal change'. They are possible since we all have the power to choose to do them.

In considering the issue of overtime, I am reminded of my oldest son. When he was a toddler, if people were visiting the apartment, he would not fall asleep no matter how long the visit was, and no matter what time of day it was. He would fight off sleep until the visitors left. It was as if he was afraid that he would miss some thing. Once our visitors' left, he would go to sleep. By this time, however, he was over tired and would scream through half the night with nightmares. He, my wife, and I, all paid the price for his fear of missing out.

Perhaps some people put in such long hours because they do not want to miss anything when they leave the office. The trouble with this is that events will never stop happening. That is life! Things happen 24 hours a day.

Allowing for little rest is not ultimately practical. So, take a nap. Things will happen while you are asleep, but you will have the energy to catch up when you wake. Hence,

"LOVE YOUR JOB, BUT NEVER FALL IN LOVE WITH YOUR COMPANY BECAUSE YOU
NEVER KNOW WHEN THE COMPANY STOPS LOVING YOU"
- Narayana Murthy

Adieu!

Imagine

Imagine you own a room of your own, but it is still slated to be public property anyway with anyone wishing to walk in and out whenever and whatever time they choose to?

Imagine at the times you are lost in slumber, your possessions are actually getting catalogued and rifled through and some conveniently pilfered for others' uses?

Imagine you own a single pair of white-not-white shoes and are quite happy with the murky colour and it gets "borrowed" without permission one day?

Imagine when that convenient "borrowing" results in you not being able to leave the house as no other shoes match that one pair of jeans that always clads your torso?

Imagine your shoes get returned and after another "borrowing" stint, they get washed and scrubbed till they are white bright, almost back to original colouring, thus spoiling the entire experience of actually wearing said pair of shoes?

Imagine that almost all your possessions can be altered, borrowed, stolen, sold or taken de facto control of at any time?

Imagine you own a shaver and suddenly you don't?

Imagine when you locate said shaver again and are now questioned as to it's ownership because it is the exact model that the army issues and the fuckin thief is serving national service?

Imagine you buy a new belt and are very pleased with it, though it still needs a few more holes pierced so you can wear it with your other jeans that don't fit your waist as snugly?

Imagine you put your jeans in the wash with the intention of wearing the other newly-sewn-up one and you can't find your old belt that would hold it up?

Imagine that just because you own one new item, the old item of the same category reverts to public property?

Imagine that this isn't just for non-personal items but can go deeper into even really private stuff like boxers?

Imagine on the days that you're out, your computer becomes the village prostitute?

Imagine this knowing that there ARE two other PCs in the household but one is tightly controlled by the mother and geographically impossible to sneak into while the other is just loaded with spyware, adware and games?

Imagine when you return and immediately know something is amiss? Settings are changed. Pages don't load up the way you are used to. Icons missing from your desktop.

Imagine what this does to a geek who is very obsessed with customization of his electronics to the point of death, a person who never uses a program without first hitting the preferences and making it sure it works the way it should, the way he wants it to work?

Imagine you have to buy perfumes and yet hide them in case some other bastard thinks it's his god given right to use them too and without remorse or regret?

Imagine when you are sleeping, the fuckin pilferer goes through every nook and cranny not stopping till the hiding place has been sought out?

Imagine you wake up regularly to the sounds of booming shouting, usually at the mother on the topic of food or at the other sibling on the topic of "anything in the world"?

Imagine living in a household of 5 but still confining yourself to your own room because moving into the other common areas will just result in you feeling hate to the core of your soul?

Imagine you really have nothing else you can do because of an open door concept in your household and cracking a family member's head open with a hockey stick is quite frowned upon?

Imagine putting up with such uncouth filth every single goddamn day?

Damn, I'm glad I'm leaving. I had a dream last night. I was lounging somewhere else watching some TV and my mum calls. She goes "How is it there? Are you happy?". I go "I'm so happy I don't have to be in the same house as that bastard".

And it really felt good saying that. I bet if I had been looking at myself sleeping, I would have had a smile on my face.

Tag-Less

This is an official unofficial announcement that the tagboard has been retired. I frankly never saw a point for it other than to touch-and-go or to hit-and-run with random language.

This borders more on:

1. If you have anything pertinent to say, leave a comment.

2. That's what the comments field is there for.

3. I miss doing comment moderation, spam or no spam.

4. No blog superstar still has a tagboard active. With the exception of kenny sia.

5. If I suddenly don't take an irrational looking decision out of the blue, I wouldn't be me, now would I?

Adieu!

Floundering

That you are all that i need
For you, I give my soul to keep
You see me, love me
Just the way i am
For you i am a better man
I said you are the reason
For everything i do
I'd be lost, so lost without you

As my soul heals the shame
I will grow through this pain
Lord I'm doing all I can
To be a better man

I is got new haircut

You know what makes it all the more significant that you've gone for a new haircut?

1. The girlfriend sponsors you for one.
2. It is at a high end salon where not in a million years would I have thought to cut my hair at.
3. She does all this after a day when she is extremely pissed off with me for fucking plans up.

I'm touched really. I know it was just a haircut but still, given the context, it's like laying the old one-two on me without physically doing it. Who the fuck actually treats you good after a night of getting treated badly? Nethia of course.

So, she dragged me to the middle of Tanjong Pagar, prime real estate. If you know rental rates you should know salon prices situated in the area. Of course, growing up on Sri Dewa, and after that franchise all but vanished from my neighbourhood, continuing at small time "Unisex Salon" joints, I was quite wary about all of this. It's ironic I know that flipping $200 for a bottle of hard liquor I do with no qualms but a more than 8 dollar haircut I'd flip about. So, typical me, I tried to find reasons not to get an expensive haircut and of course, my efforts were vetoed.

We arrived and like a seasoned salon-er she told the bloke she needed me to get a cut and colour. Colour? I got scared. Never really have I coloured my hair except get some red highlights back in J2. Even then, I didn't bring enough money to the place cos I underestimated the cost. The auntie let me go with my word that I'd return back to pay her the balance. I did come back, few years later [I really forgot!], but the shop had since moved on to greener pastures. I wish her all the best and my deepest regrets that I still owe her $14.

The country bumpkin that I am, I didn't know what the hell to say to the stylist. So I told him I really had no idea what cut I wanted or what colour to choose and I place full trust in what he thinks is good for me. He went "Never trust your stylist completely". I was like "I in your chair. You the boss la. Do what you like".

So, for that semi-touching speech, I got 3 free highlights. Auw. It ended up looking somewhere between a cross of Jap rock star and Bombay street beggar with dust nestled in hair. Still. it was very very nice! I aint gonna show you a photo because I'm not good at self portraits. How do I know it was really nice? When random Yindians stare at you like you've forsaken 3000 years of tradition and culture in the train. Dude, your pseudo Armani is so last decade!

I is love her. Thanks for the haircut bee bee. Muack!

I is got new house

You might have been informed. Then again, it's not really a richly guarded military secret that I is got new house. I'm moving. In little over two weeks. To a far flung jungle, the same district I love to loathe. Boon Lay. Whether it is really a boon or will anything will be laid is still left to see.

Those who do know already, know WE [sig. other] are moving out as opposed to just I. Alas, the grand dame of my household reads me too. And in certain matters, the less she knows the more peaceful life can be.

It came after a lot of thought, especially since this idea has been ping-ponging in my head since I first got legally employed with a paymaster who credits money in on the 10th of every month. Like any normal issue, we investigate the socio/political/economic vantages and disadvantages of the impending move.

My mum was pretty non-violent about it though, which is quite surprising. She enquired patiently on the rent, the state of the house, the roomies [none], the housies [phantoms I had to conjure up] and amenities. Convinced that her eldest child is not transferring out to face the Iraqis in the Gulf, she proceeded to fuss over what to take from my place and go. Highly interesting that conversation. And then it dawned on me.

My mother like most Yindian stay-at-home housewives do a lot of investing in the side. Although not on stocks and bonds and shares and warrants, their investing leans more to tupperware, cutlery, pots, pans, cleaning instruments and storage boxes. She also possesses that trait of never wanting to throw anything away. It pains her to throw anything away. Hits her like a mallet that it was an item she did pay good money for but never found a use for. It also pains her to give the stuff away except when extended families require it in dire situations. Now, she finds herself in a position where she needn't throw it away nor give it away, but put it to good use, in my new place. Ah, her clutter problem solved. Nearly. Now all I have to do is sieve through everything she's prepared to part with happily and see if it fits the general architectural and design theme envisioned.

Moving out of your parents' place is quite a horrifying turn of events in the eyes of Asian parents. You better be either getting married, going off to army or dead. Explains why my dad would probably never realize exactly what is happening. The other sibling, for the sole sake of him not attempting to place any claim to my room which I have bequeathed to the youngest. Privy to the move thus is the matriarch and the youngest sibling. So, I brought my brother aside and let him know that in just 2 weeks I'll be gone for good and might only stop by on Sundays since I still have work commitments in Ang Mo Kio [and of course to grab any other essentials I might have otherwise needed to shop for]. It went something like this:

Me: Pssst. Come here I tell you something.

He: Yeah?

Me: I tell you but you can't tell anyone. Only Amma knows.

He: Ok, set, what is it?

Me: I'm moving out. Taking all my things and going. And after I'm gone you can get your own single room and don't have to put up with that asshole anymore.

He: Huh? Why? Oh... you are going to hostel is it?

Me: No. My own place.

He: So you are taking everything and never coming back? Or are you coming back after you finish up with school, in 1 year time?

Me: Never. After that I will go to work from there. I'm really outa here.

He: Anneh don't go.

Me: Why?

He: Please don't go. Then will be left with just him and me.

Me: So, you're 16. Learn how to fight for yourself. And I'm giving you my room. Don't bloody give it up to him just cause he threatens you for it.

He: But he'll whack me. Will you tell him it's for me?

Me: No. Fight for your own things. You don't learn this now, you never will. You want to go everywhere and be the boy whom people bully?

He: Why do you have to go anyway? Here got everything what.

Me: Too crowded here and there's nearer my school.

He: Anneh, are you going cause you hate us?

Me: No la goondu. Now shut up about all this. No one else knows. If anyone else finds out I'll know its you and you get ready for one final whacking before I leave.

He: Nod nod.

So, minor politicking aside I'm on this whole budgeting, planning frame of mind everyday on how best to get there and stay there and not wake up in the middle of the night petrified and going "FUCK! I forgot that!". Praba and a few others have graciously agreed to help me with the initial scrub down process. Sadly, the previous tenant didn't understand the importance of a clean washroom and kitchen. I might or might not host an open house one fine day when I feel like having visitors. Await your visitation pass if you are privileged enough.

Otherwise, all cash and cheque donations and home furnishing [read: IKEA] vouchers are much welcome. Wouldn't YOU like to do up my place? I'll grant you a plaque bearing your name in my living room, behind the door. Grin.

Adieu!

Spot On

Spotted in a girlie mag:

A woman did not return home one night. The next day, she tells her husband she slept over at her girlfriend's place. He calls up ten of her closest friends. None of them knows anything about it.

A man did not return home one night. The next day, he tells his wife he slept over at his buddy's place. She calls up ten of his closest pals.

7 of them confirm he slept over.
3 say he's still there.

Auw.

Dear Uncle Agony,

I have 3 brothers. 1 works as a bank manager, the other died of heroin overdose and the last left home since he was 12 and was never found. My younger sister is currently in jail. My mother committed suicide after my dad was sent to a mental institution. Lately, I met this girl who had just been released from probation for drug abuse and abandoning her illegitimate newborn at an underground gambling den. I have fallen in love with her and really want to spend the rest of my life with her. My problem is this: Should I tell her about my bank manager brother?

Dilemma Dude

Dear Dilemma Dude,

No. Nuff said.

Yours truly,
Auntie Agony

Another two tees I'd love to have. But alas, maybe they fall into the forbidden "You dress like a 16 year old" column. Anyhow, for the believers, there's always TShirtHell.

Adieu!