Barbie Kitty

Speed surfing through the day's headlines and of course CNA produced another entertainment gem. The story was "Barbie gets Hello Kitty makeover".

I was very puzzled. Isn't the idea of a makeover meant to make something immensely prettier than it originally was? Alluding to the whole, "you have the potential la.... you just don't know what to do with yourself" theory. Now, why the fuck would timeless icon Barbie want a Hello Kitty makeover? That's like saying Tyra Banks needs an Ugly Betty makeover.

I propose Hello Kitty get a Barbie makeover and quick too.

Note: The writer does NOT own a Hello Kitty nail clipper and does NOT line his study table with a "cheonged" Hello Kitty tablecloth that is more resemblant of Kaijyu Paradise [if you can even remember what that is]

Adieu!

Water Gods

It was a common thing to hear mums warn kids not to go swimming during the Chinese 7th Month, the Hungry Ghosts month. The theory was that since the ghosts were out to roam, those that died by drowning will return to the original site of death [swimming pool, seashore, reservoir, etc.]. Thus, they'd drag little kids [since ghosts aint that strong to drag down Hulk Hogan unless it's a team effort] back with them to their watery graves.

Logical. As of today, "Little Girl drowns in Sentosa" numbers 12 since January. Someone must be really angering the water gods around here majorly. No, maybe not Calypso a la POTC but probably mighty Trident since his weapon is cooler and he doesn't have dark stained teeth and talk in a Caribbean drawl. I can list the major suspects for you:

1. NEWater. One should never attempt to make drinking water out of waste water. It's not right. And to arrogantly bottle it and market it for the world to steal a snigger is unforgivable.

2. Merlion. The symbol of national pride [patriotism is also something mythical to some of our national servicemen] should never have been moved to it's new site next to the Esplanade. A lion [with a cold fish appendage] has feelings too. It's not right holding free open-air concerts right beside it and expect it not to want to crane it's neck to have a look.

3. Wrath of Mother Nature. It's time to flood out the world. There is no more Moses to part the Red Sea. The Netherlands will soon be awash in water [FYI, lowest point in Rotterdam is 7 metres below sea level, protected only by ingenious dykes, easily disposed off by unpredictable flash floods though]

4. Influx of foreign water devils. With the rise in foreign talent, it is only right that English water devils like the Gindylow [who do the same dragging and drowning] ought to have taken advantage of "globalization" to populate a more temperate region. It's their version of a Caribbean holiday. As Chow Yuen Fatt put it: "Welcome to Singapore"

For further water spirit GK, read HERE.
Adieu!

Gang Exits

So, I was reading in The New Paper, a sorry excuse for a tabloid [If tabloid is defined by size 72 fonts and garish headlines that actually have nothing to do with summarizing the story] about how Malay gang members take great pains to exit their affiliations and erase their past.

Something piqued my interest. Exit techniques to be precise. Now, I've heard and seen huge sums of money being coughed up [If you are in the 369 gang, you might have to pay $369 or with a coupla zeroes after that to gain freedom] and a standard one to one mano a mano mortal kombat with the strongest dude in the group. But, something new was revealed in this article.

These days due to the inherent penetration of video games and creative storylines in almost everything we take up, street hoodlums too have jumped on the bandwagon to come up with brilliant exit strategies.

Solution revealed in this article involved the "member" starting at the 12th floor staircase landing of a HDB block and descending all the way to the 1st whilst fending off attacks from one guy stationed at every subsequent lift landing. This is the ultimate battle royale. A senseless test of fitness and strength [both mental and physical] and stamina. So, one man goes against 12 in quick succession depending on whether he is gridlocked anywhere along the way. You'd think that after the first few guys he'd devise Jackie Chan-like attributes and attempt to jump over the man instead of brawling with him. Or prepare himself adequately with cross trainer Nikes, a tracksuit and a rusty cycle chain.

Staircase Sudoku I'd name it, if they ever called a huge ass meeting to "brand" and "market" this creative practice. It's all about the marketing as the iPod has proven to the world. By the way, the Nintendo Wii is the new age game machine and you'd be a doofus to even think the PS3 is worth more than its weight in aluminium.

Following up on this "how do I exit a gang [one that doesn't even financially enrich me]" conundrum comes the new avalanche of violence based videos on YouTube. Here, amateur criminals take videos of their bashings and post them coupled with their gang numbers or names as the title header. Meet Singapore's Dumbest Criminals. Why hasn't someone even come up with that programme yet since our nation is probably more wired up with CCTV [some unplugged and fake] than it ever has been before. Right, so people used to beat the fuck outa people and then run, and sometimes never get caught. Now, they show their handsome face to the camera in gloat and glee [Attn: Investigation Officer - CID] and also state their affiliations [Attn: Secret Society Branch - CID]. Brilliant.

I bow down to supreme intelligence. Makes me wish I was smarter.

gang, gangster, singapore, youtube
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The Tuition Game

It is a very interesting industry. The private tuition game. It would have been termed a job or profession if it truly was so, but in all aspects it's a game. A people management game, a discipline game, an effectiveness game and the game of illusions.

Tutors generally come in all shapes and sizes and are usually aware that no other profession coughs up upwards of 20 an hour rates except for entry level professional entities. Rates commanded are based sometimes on seniority, qualifications and pure guesswork.

Typically in descending order:

1. Ex-Teachers, Retirees [of the seasoned, wrinkled variety]

Some are good and then some are real good. This group is aware that a financial supplement to their civil service salary is quite welcome indeed. However, their classroom ideas of discipline and attention span will inevitably translate to the tuition arena. More often than not, they provide extensive knowledge through years of experience and spotting questions; but their students beg their parents to stop the tuition due to the repeat of mainstream nightmares.

2. NIE Trained Teachers [like as if NIE training really matters]

The NIE certification is very very overestimated. Not everyone who graduates from a course there can teach. This is in accordance with friends and friends of friends we've all known who couldn't attract the attention of crows while being a scarecrow even. Still, the tagging of the "NIE" brand is solely for enticing the paymasters, the parents.

3. Undergraduates [Of any field and discipline]

The myriad of undergrads teaching everything from subjects they know to subjects they don't are the main fuel of the industry. Undergrads typically are hungry for money and are exceedingly mobile. It is not uncommon to see an Arts student churning up numbers in A Maths lessons or a Science student professing astute knowledge in History. Whatever you can pitch to land a job.

4. Others [A very wide and encompassing group, usually those that end up spoiling the market]

This group mainly is employed by people who are of the thinking that as long you have cleared that level, you are able to supervise for that level. A very layman's way of terming this would be "If you are Pri 6, you can teach a Pri 5 student". This is where the Poly dudes, ITE dudes and private school students factor in. Why I say they are the market spoilers? Because the most amount of undercutting occurs within this group. Whereas a seasoned teacher will fart at the thought of less than 40/hour and an undergrad at less than 25/hour, this group have been known to offer their services for as little as 10/hour. Very inappropriate if you ask me.

We've assessed the manpower situation that feeds the demand. Now for the creation of demand. Why do people take tuition? A few reasons spring to mind. None of those will be initiated by the actual student. See, parents these days have some vague notion that the longer their kid spends on academics the more his/her grades are gonna grow. Possibly they are also aware that most kids hate school and most teachers are handling 30 odd students at the same time. Not good enough a ratio for personal coaching. So, the reasons would be:

1. My kid is failing the subject
2. My kid needs to improve his grade in the subject [sometimes wishing for an F9 to an A1]
3. My kid seems too free.

Thus, they go thru the motions and go about their various means and resources to procure a tutor. These are:

1. Ask a friend who has employed a tutor before
2. Call up a random agency, possibly the one which has the best advert in the Classifieds
3. Hook up the kid in an already existing group tuition where his friend is enrolled in

There needs to exist a certified code of conduct and market rates for this industry to succeed, something which is highly unlikely in the near future because this is one of the most cut throat areas ever to work at. Not to mention the high turnover rate. Tutors quit and get sacked at whims and fancies. Also, parents are mostly of the false belief that it is a buyer's market. So, instead of being well-informed consumers and sussing out products and evaluations in order to provide for one of the most sacred of all services; education; these parents work on utter randomness. [Brownian motion of smoke particles comes to mind]

Hence, parents go thru a minimum of 3-4 tutors before hitting jackpot. By jackpot, don't be mistaken that it means its a tutor who manages to help the ailing academics of their unfortunate child. Jackpot means a tutor they can stand. See, this industry is fucked up in the way that the person receiving the service is the true victim in all sense. Victimized by his parents because he doesn't have much say in the selection of tutors and victimized by inept tutors who play the double game very well. These tutors take great pains to please their paymasters, the parents. They smile, go "hello auntie, hello uncle, have you eaten", take their seat, spout out 2 hours of nonsense [inclusive 1.5 hours of the kid just doing his exercises] and then leave. None the wiser.

The parents are overjoyed when they come across punctual, polite, well mannered and "not in a rush for dough" tutors. They treasure these employees and treat them like part of the family amidst the fact their kid's grades have jumped barely 1/2 a percentage point from 30 to 30.5 still earning him his F9.

Where has the focus gone to? Should the tutors be servicing the student or their parents? Granted, you always keep your salary givers in the best possible relations ever but is that what tutoring is about? I for one believe in results. Result oriented education. My self-coined term and I might make millions out of it. For what do you fork out 5 times what a Macdonald's employee earns to a twiddly thumbed tutor if not for results?

I have a tuition kid and he recently cleared his mid-years. Amazingly, he managed to fail everyone of his subjects except the 2 I am tutoring him in. Funny thing is, he is also getting tutored for all the others save one. So, just by general comparison, who is delivering the results? And then I've also had kids who have a distinct jump in grades after jus the first month under me, but yet the assignment was doomed from the start.

See, in line with the entire "buyer's market" misconception, parents [particularly Yindians] still want to grate their value for money out of you. You cease to be just the tutor in their eyes and evolve into being a full time employee under their directorship. By this I mean, punctuality to the dot [give or take 5 seconds], general appearance, "they can cancel but you don't" theory and the like. Cowboys who are "flexible" in timings and days are non-tolerable but "hello auntie" kids who do zilch for their offspring have their virtues extolled to the high skies.

Where is the orientation to results? I say we need to purge this thinking. Most of youse are probably still employees but might one day get to managerial and employer positions. Don't be a fucking doofus and insist on running military precision disicpline when the work really gets done on time and is done well. Defeats the purpose of good work doesn't it? Case in point, Google. Google's offices do not even look like offices. Holiday chalets or each individual's living room is a better description.

Back to the tuition perspective, it's perhaps wishful thinking that the dynamics change to what the student wants. What days he wants, what times he wants, is he comfortable with you and do his grades pick up. By all means, the next time you come across horror parents who believe you are on their payroll and so go all "Give me 20 push ups soldier" on you, do invite them to sit in on your lesson so they can gain the benefits for what they pay for.

Who are we teaching anyway?

Now, the dynamics is clear isn't it? Which is common in this upside down world we live in. Reminds me of 2 different departments I've worked at. In one, my boss sets me work, and doesn't care where I'm at, what I'm doing as long as some basic requirements are met:

1. I come in to work in the morning.
2. My work is shit-hot. [as opposed to dog-shit, both airforce lingo]
3. My work is on time [most of the time, I deliver a 2 week deadline in 2 working days]

The other department I've worked at was like this:

1. Boss sets me work, gives me 2 weeks. I'm done in 2 days, he's on MC/leave etc.
2. I am bored and have no work to do [not a fault of mine]
3. I become the permanent smoking point fixture.
4. Productivity hours are not counted but "sitting at the table" hours are counted.

This the horror department where no one really cares if work is done [their department standard is replying you only after the 3rd reminder e-mail], but they DO care if they don't see you at your desk from 8 am to 530 pm.

But on the other side, there are parents I'd like to flag up as ideal paymasters. Like this one:

Me: Auntie, I kinda need my money in advance cos I'm running damn tight and I need to pay rent.
She: Eh, why you ask until like that? It's your money you know, you have all the right to demand it. I know how it's like to pull off part time jobs. [Lady in question is a top notch financial agent with a local bank]

Same lady, different day:

Me [to the kid]: Eh, your parents not in today? Damn, thought can get my money.
Kid: Wait I tell them.
Later,
She: Sorry, sorry we weren't around. Can I transfer to you early tomorrow morning cos I can't do it now.
Me: Phew. Sure, thanks.

Background of course is that when you start living day to day. You really hope the money that should line your pockets does line it. And when it doesn't, then God help you for the following 1 week that you thought this money would take care of. So, it is advisable not to count your chickens before they hatch. Anything can happen. You can take ill, they can cancel, the world can come to an end. Bottomline is you are 50 bucks poorer at the end of the month.

This is only my personal perspective on the private home tuition market. I've yet to begin my observations on the tuition centre market. Many students [at bargain prices], 1 tutor [at bargain pay] and 1 organization [bargaining everything].

Adieu!

Kiddy Kuips

You know I really don't have the time to be online when I resort to cut and pasting the crap my (ex) Dean sends my way. Will make an effort to pen down thoughts and recollect when I reach home after a fuckin tiring day. Usually once the fingers hit the keyboard, all inspiration is lost to the comfort of that double duvet-ed queen size mattress.


JACK (age 3) was watching his mum breast-feeding his new baby sister. After a while he asked: "Mum why have you got two? Is one for hot and one for cold milk?"

MELANIE (age 5) asked her Granny how old she was. Granny replied she was so old she didn't remember any more. Melanie said, "If you don't remember you must look in the back of your panties. Mine say five to six."

STEVEN (age 3) hugged and kissed his mum good night. "I love you so much that when you die I'm going to bury you outside my bedroom window."

BRITTANY (age 4) had an earache and wanted a pain killer. She tried in vain to take the lid off the bottle. Seeing her frustration, her mum explained it was a child-proof cap and she'd have to open it for her. Eyes wide with wonder, the little girl asked: "How does it know it's me?"

SUSAN (age 4) was drinking juice when she got the hiccups. "Please don't give me this juice again," she said, "It makes my teeth cough."

DJ (age 4) stepped onto the bathroom scale and asked: "How much do I cost?"

MARC (age 4) was engrossed in a young couple that were hugging and kissing in a restaurant. Without taking his eyes off them, he asked his dad: "Why is he whispering in her mouth?"

CLINTON (age 5) was in his bedroom looking worried. When his mum asked what was troubling him, he replied, "I don't know what'll happen with this bed when I get married. How will my wife fit in?"

JAMES (age 4) was listening to a Bible story. His dad read: "The man named Lot was warned to take his wife and flee out of the city but his wife looked back and was turned to salt." Concerned, James asked: "What happened to the flea?"

TAMMY (age 4) was with her mother when they met an elderly, rather wrinkled woman her mum knew. Tammy looked at her for a while and then asked, "Why doesn't your skin fit your face?"

"Dear Lord," the minister began, with arms extended toward heaven and a rapturous look on his up turned face. "Without you, we are but dust..." He would have continued but at that moment my very obedient daughter who was listening leaned over to me and asked quite audibly in her shrill little four year old girl voice, "Mum, what is butt dust?"

Liqour Labels

Found off the web.

Liquor manufacturers have accepted the Government's suggestion that the following warning labels be placed immediately on all varieties of alcohol containers:

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may leave you wondering what the hell happened to your bra and panties.

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may make you think you are whispering when you are not.

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol is a major factor in dancing like a retard.

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may cause you to tell your friends over and over again that you love them.

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may cause you to think you can sing.

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may lead you to believe that ex-lovers are really dying for you to telephone them at four in the morning.

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may make you think you can logically converse with members of the opposite sex without spitting.

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may create the illusion that you are tougher, smarter, faster and better looking than most people.

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may lead you to think people are laughing WITH you.

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may cause pregnancy.

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may lead you to believe you are invisible.

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may make you think you have mystical Kung Fu powers, resulting in you getting your ass kicked.

WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may cause you to roll over in the morning and see something really scary.

WARNING: The crumsumpten of alcohol may Mack you tink you kan tpye reel gode [been here]

Visual DNA

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Traffic Woes

Ah, my favourite past time. Analyzing what makes civil servants think up the shit they do in the name of the "greater good" when eventually it's going to produce death. Let me explain. First, take note of junction in question on road map.

1 minute walk from the MRT and situated right beside the Ang Mo Kio South Neighbourhood Police Centre, possibly why all the changes in landscape occurred anyway.

So, originally this particular junction was the only method used for all and sundry who needed to get to the train station from my cluster of the blocks. I.e. everyone living on left and right of the street that branches from the main road of Avenue 3. Jaywalking was the norm. As you can see, even by map distance the nearest two overhead bridges were not really the "convenient" way to get to the other side of the road.

A pictorial representation. Red arrows are vehicular movement. Blue arrows are commuter movement. Now this was the way it was, for aeons and aeons till the NPC got built. Suddenly, it became a pride thing. How could people blatantly flout the law at the doorsteps of the Men In Blue? Unthinkable. Those sinners.

Thus, an effort got underway to deter jaywalkers. No, they didn't post a policeman on the sidewalk to effectively scare away potential jaywalkers. Now, that would have been too much of an effort. Poor dude. Did we really expect him to be standing there for more than 10 mins at a go in sweat drenched uniforms when the comfort of airconditioning, water cooler, pantry, television and plush chair was waiting for him twenty metres to the right?

So, here's what they did.

By putting those long green spiky fences on the center divider, jaywalkers now effectively had their walking space reduced by 95%. It was not an anomaly to see close to 15 people bunched up at the end of the divider waiting their turn to clear traffic. Do you see what happened? From a moderate traffic risk, the ingenuity of whoever instituted the change have brought it to a high risk traffic risk. The lesser the area to manouevre the more unsafe it became.

Still not satisfied because the jaywalking never stopped. It just got more confined. It was still a smear on the First Class Transportation Network we possessed in our bleached nation. So, construction crew were brought in and this was what they came up with.

Ah, traffic lights. It should solve everything. No it doesn't. With the old system, vehicles had an all clear path to the next traffic light. I.e. from junction of Ave 3/8 to junction of Ave 3/10. This was a good 500-600 metres of unfettered roads and speeds of 100-120 kmh were the norm. 20 odd years of living in these conditions have honed the jaywalkers' skills to a fine precise one. Just by sight we would know when we could make it and when we couldnt. Which car was speeding and which was a tortoise. It was not the pro-law practise, but it worked.

With the brand new lights installed. Cars now had a minor glitch to their path. An inconsiderate happening considering the road does have potential to jam during peak hours. Not helped by SBS buses cutting through 3 lanes near the end towards the new AMK Hub.

From two decades of zero accidents, even with unscrupulous jaywalking. We are only just counting down the days to the first major hit and run. Another problem seemingly solved by the men in charge, but creating a whole new other problem. Now you have instances of beating the red light, crossing indiscriminately with the false confidence that a traffic light will save your ass and generally impatient dudes waiting for the light to change. Where responsiblity initially lay in the hands of those who jaywalked, it has shifted to the two sets of traffic lights. Principle is, the moment you lay the responsibility of protecting your life to something/one else, mayhem is just waiting around the corner.

Moral of the story: If it aint broke, don't fix it. You might get back more than you're bargaining for.

Ah Kow's Pigs

I have a friend. Her name's Div. And she's a damn good read. An example in reference to rising minister's salaries:

THE STORY OF Ah Kow, the Singaporean FARMER


Ah-Kow was overseeing his herd of animals in the last family farm in Singapore when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced out of a dust cloud towards him. The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses and YSL tie, leans out the window and asks the peasant, "If I tell you exactly how many sows and piglets you have in your herd, Will you give me a piglet?"

Ah-Kow looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, "Sure, Why not?" The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects it to his RAZR V3 cell phone, and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo.

The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg, Germany. Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses a MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with email on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response.

Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP LaserJet printer and finally turns to the peasant and says, "You have exactly 986 pigs and piglets."

"That's right. Well, I guess you can take one of my piglets," says Ah-Kow. He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on amused as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car.

Then Ah-Kow says to the young man, "Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my piglet?" The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, "Okay, why not?"

"You're a MP for the PAP", says Ah-Kow. "Wow! That's correct," says the yuppie, "but how did you guess that?"

"No guessing required." answered the Ah-Kow, "You showed up here even though nobody called you; you want to get paid inspite of your million dollar salary for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked.

You tried to show me how much smarter than me you are; and you don't know a thing about pigs...this is a herd of goats. Now give me back my dog."


And she unearths gems like these. Before this clip, I thought Dick Lee was some sissy who should have been bitch slapped after writing Fried Rice Paradise (nasi goreng very nice..over 40 varieties...come and eat...please please):

And at the same 30th anniversary concert, we have Hossan, Kumar and the portion prior to his Lee Kuan YOU melody.

Nothing

Foolish Games

Blast from the past. A song we all sang to as the random MP3 playlist brought it to the fore. Some feeling more than the others. Rare, this air of somberness about us:

Always felt I was outside looking in on you
You were always the mysterious one with dark eyes and careless hair
You were fashionably sensitive, but too cool to care

Well in case you failed to notice, in case you failed to see
This is my heart bleeding before you,
this is me down on my knees
These foolish games are tearing me apart
Your thoughtless words are breaking my heart

You were always brilliant in the morning
Smoking your cigarettes and talking over coffee
Your philosophies on art, Baroque moved you
You loved Mozart and you'd speak of your loved ones
As I clumsily strummed my guitar

You'd teach me of honest things
Things that were daring, things that were clean
Things that knew what an honest dollar did mean
So I hid my soiled hands behind my back

Somewhere along the line I must've gone off track with you
Excuse me, think I've mistaken you for somebody else
Somebody who gave a damn, somebody more like myself

These foolish games are tearing me apart
You're tearing me, tearing me, tearing me apart
Your thoughtless words are breaking my heart
You're breaking my heart.

Exam Excellence

Sometimes sitting through the night at the newly christened "beach", an open terrace with benches at S3.2 garners much interesting gossip. And time and time again, with the open topic of exams comes the side dish of how to approach it. To be direct, I learnt my fair share of how to cheat, who cheats and what to cheat on and what you can just forget about even scribbling notes about since it won't help.

It is not a very hush hush secret that most undergraduates cheat. Bits of paper, scribblings on erasers and protactor covers and inner linings of pencil cases. No idea it was so prevalent. Perhaps I am naive in the ways of the "Dark Arts". God bless Severus Snape. He martyred Dumbledore though. On a side note, pre-order the next Harry Potter instalment through SingPost.

So, I was asked this question "You mean you've never cheated?!?!? No wonder la, you taking so long to get through school.". Ah, now it all makes sense. All that money wasted on photocopies and prints and staplers and clips and clear files and sticky thingies. Since I think I've enough information to last me a lifetime and yet won't put it to use because of some clearly unwarranted phobia, I think sharing this wealth is apt.

How to Cheat

1. Write formulae on your forearms and wear a long sleeved jacket into the paper. When in doubt, proceed to the toilet, scroll up and mentally photograph.

2. Write on bits of paper and invisibilize it within your calculator or pencil box. Retrieve with care during the paper. Cover with question paper and NOT answer booklet because it gets turned around more. If you fear this method, just be one of the first to get to your seat when the doors swing open and then hurriedly cut and paste from this bit to the back of your question paper. Technically, you haven't committed a crime yet.

3. Write on the portion of an eraser which is covered by it's cover. Use all 4 surfaces for maximum efficiency. Also, purchase an extra large eraser so you don't attempt to set the world record for minute handwriting and ease of sight during your exam.

4. Write on inner lining of your pencil case. Do up random words and lines to make it seem like you're one of those kinda psychos who get off by liquid papering Manchester United or Metallica to show you know how to spell the names of your favoured icons.

5. Write on bits of paper and put it in the pockets of your boxer shorts. Even if you suay-suay kena check and made to empty your pockets. No invigilator typically feels the need to check your boxers or briefs. Make sure paper type in use does not irritate your ass or provide much unneeded friction under your gonads.

And the winner is...

6. True story - Wear a snow cap, since winter fashion has long been the bane of university dressing. Strategically place an MP3 player with only 1 file in it playing on loop. Pre record this file with ALL the goddamn formulas in the world you might need. Plug it into your ears. Pull your snow cap over your ears. You the man.

Precautions

Although everyone is on the bandwagon, do exercise precaution. No one likes a pretentious cheat or a disillusioned one who ends up spoiling the market.

1. When referring to folded bits of paper, usually full A4 sized ones in the cubicle, always flush before reaching for it. Sound of unfolding paper tends to resonate via ceramic tiled walls.

2. Have a nasty shit ready so no invigilator will be snooping around directly outside your door.

3. Time your visit to the toilet. Although you may not be using this person for your technique of information revelation, it may accidentally get you checked. If you are a minority, do NOT rise to go to the washroom just after another minority has returned from it. This has resulted in a full shake down of previously loved cubicle before. Observe the law of non-minority consecutivity.

4. Do not look shifty. If when you look around for the initial scoping of where the invigilators are standing, you catch one of their eyes, look extremely happy like you're on X or look extremely pained as in constipation. Do not scratch your head, look to God for answers or behave nonchalantly. This will inspire them to come to you.

5. Don't write more than you can cheat. The joy of finding out you are capable of being a full fledged uni cheat might compel you to write the entire syllabus down. Don't be daft. Like that might as well just carry in your binded notes with you right? Write only what is necessary. Don't go overboard.


Now, you have been educated. However, if like me, you still maintain stupid phobias and would rather not be shamed in front of 1500 of your peers in the 1 to a million chance of getting nabbed, just do the right thing: Help to catch a cheat. Do that, and you will be a hero and possibly need not write a single appeal letter for the rest of your stay in school.

Other worthwhile ventures are catching those bastards who don't put their pens down when the mike blares "Put your pens down". Start psychotically screaming and going at victim's throat with a sharpened 2B pencil. After connecting with jugular vein and relishing the fountain of haemoglobin that is erupting; collapse with the "What Have I Done" look plastered on your pasty face. This will earn you much brownie points as you are a person who cares about rules and regulations. You might even earn a call up into the ranks of the youth wing of the ruling party.

Adieu!

Tent Vs Kublai Khan

So, the girlfriend and me decided to get our meat fix at The Tent in Clarke Quay. Styled as a Mongolian BBQ Restaurant, we thought it would be mighty happening and a culinary experience. Very dissapointed with the event though. I shall explain.

If you are familiar with Seoul Garden-ish, eat what you choose to eat buffets, you will see that it is ultimately the same experience but you don't do the BBQ yourself. Just one round sans soup will set you back 22 bucks and unlimited soup, salad, meat servings will set you back 32 bucks. It also caters for vegetarians by offering a salad and veggie only BBQ option. You can get a glimpse of the menu on offer and a review HERE.

Run almost entirely by North Indians or look a likes and frequented mostly by white and Indian expatriates, there lay the problem with our dining experience.

I quote "Why is it that when these Yindians come to eat outside with their whole family, always something goes wrong? Why can't they eat like normal people, without a hitch, pay their bill and go?"

The motherfuckers who stare

I as a naive boy would of course just think it that people stare because they are smitten by good looks [the girlfriend's]. However, I think it just runs deep deep into Yindian DNA to stare at anyone who doesn't resemble their 65 year old mother who looks 80. Or their 40 yr old wife who looks 75. Or their sons or daughters who look like they would have graduated from MIT by age 6, soda bottle glasses and all. Perhaps, their glasses are actually the sub continent's take on the big ass Chanel ones that are flaunted in high wealth atmospheres.

So, these 3 Northies, couldn't tell if they were expats took the seat at the opposite corner to us. We sipping on some champagne, bucket of ice and all. They with icy stares. What is their issue, I don't know. Perhaps they were just curious as to why 2 Yindians in their mid twenties would be eating at a restaurant they felt was applicable only to their credit card limit. Or perhaps, they just wanted to know where she does her hair. Or perhaps they are just irritating pricks?

So, un-disguised [more out of ineptness than to be in your face] stares and shaking heads aside, one of these ladies actually decided to check it out for herself if HER vegetarian selection was indeed cooked in a staunch vegetarian fashion. Getting the manager to walk her through the entire cooking process and convinced that different stoves were used for non-veg and veg food, she sat down with an air of achievement. Now, seriously, if you are soo anal about how your food is cooked, then don't enter any establishment that smells of marinated BBQed meat you loser! Wouldn't you be right at home at Komala Vilas? Oh wait, Tekka isn't really a "dining experience" for you is it?

The People who should just stay home

Now, this be a rant only aimed at these losers who decided to occupy a table and a half next to us. See, if you are a group of 8, or gazillion, just tell the waiter at the door and they will seat you accordingly. Comprende? Don't walk in, choose your own table, split your group in half and then leave so little walking space you are going to intrude into MY personal space.

Did I mention, my champagne on ice was standing IN the walkway between the two tables? Of course, as any decent middle aged housewife would do, they would take care to ONLY use that particular walkway because the other one would entail brushing their over inflated butts onto their own food. It is indeed much more gratifying to them to see if they can go to and fro without smashing my bottle of booze. Fuck heads!

So, the family of 8 contains little children, oldies [the grandpop looked like Gemini Ganesan for his credit] and the "bill is on me" middle aged ones. Kids running around like they found water in a desert, crying cos their food is not at the table when they walk into the place and basically digging their own snot and ingesting it is not something I pay good money to view. Middle aged mum of course goes one better. I strongly feel that the way a kid cries, like the way a dog barks is very indicative of emotion. A cry that signals hunger and a cry that signals "I don't want to be here you mofo" is also quite distinctive.

This little piss ant of a girl starts bawling her stomach out and irritating the general peace. Her mum of course, looks at her and immediately assumes [I don't know why, could be a Yindian thing] that she is crying cos she is hungry. So, her response is, "Wait wait, it is not cooked yet. Just stand here and see how it's cooked!". The mum proceeds to do that since the cooking stove is see through glass panelled. Of course, the barely 3 feet in stature kid can't really by all laws of Newtonian physics manage to peek above the 4 foot wood panelling can she? Stupid dumbfuck!

The tale continues with one of the oldies, loading up her bowl with veggies and meat, as you should, and then instead of handing it to the chef to be BBQed the hell out of, she returns to her table to tuck in to her raw minced chicken. Without the alert waiter, because no one at her table would dare question the matriarch, she would have carried on with it. Stifling laughter, another commotion was brewing. Basically if you take up the all you can eat option, you are given a silver token which you place with the food you oughta cook and it gets returned to the table you are sitting at cos the number is on the token.

But of course, if you are THEM, a token is just a token and you would have no idea why they would want to introduce a silver metallic object into the equation. Confusion occurred with some prick using someone else's token. One that that prick didn't pay for. Waiter comes to clarify and middle aged bozo spends a good fifteen minutes explaining that he was not in the wrong and that he paid for the right amount of people.

Back to my question. Why the fuck can't these fuck heads just go out, eat, pay and go home? Is it really that hard? Must there always be an incident? A confusion? A commotion?

This rant is courtesy of many many years of coincidentally and unfortunately having to dine at the same places as Yindian expats.

Were you expecting a food review? My take is; to really experience a good buffet and see meat cooked in the old Mongol way and with less confusing sauces to add to your meat, proceed to Park Mall, Kublai Khan Mongolian BBQ Buffet. Beats The Tent hands down in every area. Especially since it is more a Jap tourist hot spot than an Yindian expatriate one.

None Came First

Now, I'll give it to you if you aint a zoology major or a person who insists on being anally retentive over everything you read.

Joke last published was utter crap. Assuming the egg was female [very possible, unless dealing with egg heads] and the chicken was male [you see the fallacy now?], it could have worked.

Alas, assumptions are the mother of all fuck ups. A chicken is female. You could take a lesbian angle to the whole thing though. It might still sound funny.

Adieu!

Which came first?

A chicken and an egg are lying in bed. The chicken is leaning against the headboard smoking a cigarette, with a satisfied smile on its face.

The egg, looking a bit pissed off, grabs the sheet, rolls over, and says, "Well, I guess we finally answered THAT question."

If anyone needs it explained - read it a second time.

Adieu!

MessiDona

And this is what the beautiful game is all about:



Lionel Messi - Barca vs Getafe

Koffeeshop Talk

Today as I was lounging under the sweltering sun at 925 Yishun, where the smoking tables apparently were strategically placed, it occurred to me. We need a guide of coffeeshop behaviour. Not MNV-approved non-smoking behaviour, but the real nuances of heartlander living.

Now, the marjority of us grew up through coffeeshops and the likes. In your own area [i.e. where you were born and raised], you would have fit in comfortably in your flip flops and torn tees and there-but-not-there shorts. Yet, when you have to travel out of your comfort zone, some of youse still maintain appearances which right about paints a bullseye on your forehead stating "Outsider".

Follow these simple steps and never be caught out not blending in with the surroundings.

Step 1: The Approach

Never make your first choice of table the indoor seating area. Tables near the food stalls are always unoccupied for reasons that are quite logical. Coffeeshops offer you al fresco dining and you should take advantage of it. It is a major insult to the owner and retailers if you choose to sit on nicely tiled and well ventilated areas instead of out there on rugged pavement and littered cigarette butts. It also cramps their space. No chef likes their space cramped.

Step 2: Sit and Watch

Sit down as you will in your living room. For the men, crossing of one's legs one on top of the other and leaning back on the already strained plastic chair is a good sign. Feel free to stretch out your weary limbs on adjoining chairs. Do not however place your feet on the table unless you have been inhabiting the area for a good 20 years and are on a first name basis with retailers.

Watch the general flow. Each coffeeshop has its own flow and frequency. Pick another newcomer to the venue and watch the flow. Also note if the drinks stall is self service or not to avoid being a blistering idiot who finishes his entire meal without a drop to drink.

Step 3: Drinks Uncle

In non-self service places, the drinks stall has people mobile to your table to ask for your order. Do not shower them with too much politeness. It is an inverse relationship. If you had truly blended in with the surroundings you would have known that the longer you are chummy with the drinks uncle, the less you need to care about common courtesy and politeness. Feel free to order them to your table via a shrill whistle, a shout or a violent beckoning of your hand. You may be appalled that you are treating them like a servant. However, if you do not, they in turn will treat you like one with nonchalance to boot.

Also, remember to make your order short and sharp. A seasoned coffeeshopper knows his order from the moment he leaves his place. Don't be a dumb fuck fool and make the guy wait at the table while you ask each and every occupant of the table what they want to drink. Decide beforehand cos time is precious. Every minute wasted is a Kopi-O down the drain. By current market prices, that's about 80 cents.

It is good to refer to the server as "Ah Chek" [uncle] or "Ah Hia" [brother] depending on how old they look. Female servers are almost always "Xiao Jie" [miss]. Do not make the mistake of referring to them as "Auntie" unless you want added preservatives in your "Home-made" ice lemon tea.

Step 4: Food Orders

It is a honed through the ages and very valuable skill to be able to order in Mandarin or Hokkien. Catch hold of your nearest Chinese friend and learn how to order your "special" order in the language to appear more professional and classy to the stall holders.

Also, many stall holders are still from the era where English was not a mandatory subject. Thus, languages that appeal to their senses are Mandarin, dialects and Malay. These days, China imports are also flooding the hawker scene especially in the areas of chicken and duck rice stalls. Do exercise extreme care even with your Mandarin with these folks. Expect a lot of "Huh?!"s and good practise is to wait for a Chinese bloke behind you to get so frustrated at the wait to step in and help you order.

Phrases you might need translations for, but I am not gonna provide:

No Bones
Roasted
Extra Chilli
Extra Mee
Bulls Eye Egg etc.

After ordering, when asked for your table number, gesture your hand in a dismissive wave. A true seasoned coffee shop user does NOT remember table numbers or even bother to. A mere nod of the head or pointing in the general direction of where you will be seated will suffice.

At some hawker centres, the stalls may be self service. If yours is a cook in 2 minutes dish, then loiter, pick up and go. If yours will take about 5-8 minutes to prepare, then tell the shopkeeper to "sound" you when it's ready while you return to your table for a tete a tete. If you are dining alone then you should not be in the vicinity of a coffeeshop. You remind me of people who watch movies alone.

Step 5: Leaving the Joint

After eating it is considered very good manners to burp loudly and simultaneously rub your full belly. Also do not leave leftovers as this will greatly inconvenience the guys who clean the tables., plus they are mostly past-retiree age. Feed your leftovers to the nearest stray cat. Interestingly, dogs do not inhabit coffeeshops in Singapore as cats do. However, in Malaysia, a good last piece of cheese naan to the resident stray dog will be much appreciated.

When you up and leave, stand up WITHOUT picking up your belongings at the table. Stand up, compose yourself and then reach down to take each and every article that you possess and place it tenderly in your pockets. These may include, wallet, handphone, ATM card, small change, lighter, cigarette box etc. If this coffeeshop is particularly crowded and when you decide to leave, there is a group waiting to be seated at your table, take your own sweet time. Seasoned coffeeshoppers are all about value for money.

An added bonus is to throw whatever tissue paper you used to smudge your face into the nearest soup bowl. Note, only do this to soup bowls. Apart from visual entertainment, it also serves to be an easier mess to clean rather than solid, non drenched tissue paper.


I hope this has served you well. Do enjoy your next coffee shop experience out of town and have a cold Guinness while toasting my brilliance.

Adieu!

Shoot Em Up

So, the USA has another mass shooting? And the killer decides to off himself without the pleasure of going to the cops and having his day in court and signing a tell-it-all book and movie deal?

Damn.

Still, there is no cause to worry because this will never happen in Singapore. Reason being this fascination we have with the adage that "Life is precious". Not the lives of all those we really DO want to shoot, but our own. Where we don't really see ourselves hanging from the noose as the way to go.

Another reason why Life is so "precious" to us is that deep down inside everyone of us really seriously thinks they will make it big one day. And God forbid they do anything to ruin the chances of getting to that day. Least they could do is to stay alive. Even the ones who think mediocrity and middle class is going to govern their entire existence still dream of that Toto Hongbao Draw winning ticket.

Thus, there's no need for mass panic. Just shed those tears [crocodile or not] that you usually do in the wake of a massacre, genocide, earthquake, tsunami, election.

"You had everything you wanted, Your Mercedes wasn't enough, you brats. Your golden necklaces weren't enough, you snobs. Your trust fund wasn't enough. Your vodka and cognac weren't enough. All your debaucheries weren't enough. Those weren't enough to fulfill your hedonistic needs. You had everything." - Cho

Though, it wouldn't be a surprise if these exact words were uttered mentally in the minds of some students in some autonomous / independent [read: littered with rich kids] schools around here. Still, as earlier proven, they aint gonna act on it. Life is precious.

Adieu!

Quotable Quotes

Use these quotes and stump the next drunk who stumbles into your table, knocking off your jug of bourbon coke before you land the old one-two on his already stunned but bemused face:

1. A day without sunshine is like night.

2. On the other hand, you have different fingers.

3. 42.7 percent of all statistics are made up on the spot.

4. 99 percent of lawyers give the rest a bad name.

5. Remember, half the people you know are below average.

6. He who laughs last thinks the slowest.

7. Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.

8. The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese in the trap.

9. Support bacteria. They're the only culture some people have.

10. A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.

11. Change is inevitable, except from vending machines.

12. If you think nobody cares, try missing a couple of payments.

13. How many of you believe in psycho-kinesis? Raise my hand.

14. OK, so what's the speed of dark?

15. When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.

16. Hard work pays off in the future. Laziness pays off now.

17. How much deeper would the ocean be without sponges?

18. Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines.

19. What happens if you get scared half to death….twice?

20. Why do psychics have to ask you for your name?

21. Inside every older person is a younger person wondering, "What the heck happened?"

22. Just remember -- if the world didn't suck, we would all fall off.

23. Light travels faster than sound. That's why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

24. Life isn't like a box of chocolates; it's more like a jar of Jalapenos. What you do today, might burn your ass tomorrow.

Adieu!

Sylvia Says

There is an unspoken rule when evaluating news headlines in our tiny nation: Never wholly trust the Straits Times.

For proof, just take a look at this: Men In White

*11 Apr 2007, Parliamentary Speech on Ministers' Pay * By Sylvia Lim, NCMP

In the last 2 days, MPs have covered many aspects of this contentious issue of benchmarking Ministerial pay to the private sector at 2/3 M48.

The Member for Hougang has comprehensively stated the Workers' Party position on this matter. The gist of our position is that we should instead consider benchmarking based on the remuneration of political office-holders in countries which tick. They generally favour a more moderate use of taxpayers' money for political salaries, and do not seem to have run their
countries aground.

Today I would like instead to examine a few points raised by Minister Teo Chee Hean in his reply speech yesterday and also to argue why the benchmark of 2/3M48 for political office will ultimately be against the national interest.

*Points raised by Minister Teo on Apr 10.*

Minister Teo attempted to rebut the Member for Hougang's contention that this debate was a waste of taxpayers' money. He said instead that this was a hallmark of PAP's commitment to transparency.

While I do agree that this is an opportunity to have a public airing, the debate arouses a feeling of deja vu, harking back to the other transparent debate about whether to have casinos in Singapore. The revision was presented in Parliament in a form of Ministerial statement under Standing Order 44 where no vote will be taken. *Not one thing said by any MP will change the decision of the government*. I would personally very much like to know what each individual Minister feels about taking more than $2m of taxpayers' money home each year, while fellow citizens struggle with rising costs and taxes.

Secondly, Minister Teo mentioned that it was not right to look at how much political leaders elsewhere earn because our Ministers cannot become Ministers in other countries. But the comparison is logical because we are comparing similar skill sets and responsibilities funded by the public. Looking instead at 2/3M48, how valid is it as a measure of a Minister's worth? Is it possible that, in fact, some of our Ministers are doing better in Cabinet than they would have done in their previous careers? Can we say that each and every Minister in Cabinet now would have become a top-earning banker, accountant, lawyer, engineer or CEO? We have seen instances of civil servants and military personnel embark on 2nd careers in the private sector, and find the business world a whole new ball game; and some, in fact, flounder.

Thirdly, Minister attempted to show that Cabinet salaries were not in the rarefied zone of high fliers by plotting a graph of 1,000 residents and Malaysians. Even so, 1,000 out of the resident workforce of about 1.9 m (as at mid 2006, according to Labour Force Survey) is less than 0.1%. To be in this group of 1,000 is already to be in a very privileged few and as far as the public is concerned, is already in the rarefied zone. Why 2/3M48 is ultimately against the national interest?

Economists have noted that globalisation increases income disparity. As such, the top earners' salaries will in all likelihood move up further in the future. A few years from now, 2/3M48 may require us to endorse each Cabinet minister's pay for $3m or $4m annually. As these pay packets are funded from taxes, including poor people paying GST, how far is the government prepared to go with this? Does it have a threshold of unconscionability?

Next, what makes a good Minister? There may be differences of opinion, but fundamentally, political leadership is a different creature from administration. To add value to policy-making, the Minister must play the role of politician -he should understand the public sentiment and
aspirations, and be able to front policies and explain things plainly to people. He must lead not just with head but with heart. His ground feel of the needs of the people and understanding of their plight distinguishes him from the professional civil servant who usually focuses more on efficiency and expediency in implementation. To be effective, a Minister's EQ may often be more important than for him to be part of a Mensa club. In fact, he would be better if he was wired differently from the top civil servants, to reduce the mistakes perpetuated by groupthink.

Minister Mentor Lee Kuan Yew previously justified why it was not feasible to have foreign talent in the political leadership. He said that the political leadership should "have passion, the commitment and share the same dreams as the people". (ST 4 Nov 2006). I agree. The question is: how will 2/3M48 affect empathy, the ability of Ministers to share the same dreams as the people?

Ministers are currently drawing $1.2m a year which divided by 12 is about $100,000 per month. How does it compare with the average person?

According to the Report on the Labour Force in Singapore 2006, the median gross monthly income of workers in full-time employment is $2,170. In other words, a worker takes a month to earn what a Minister earns in half a day! For university graduates, the median gross monthly income is $4,450. This would take the Minister one day to earn.

As you move the salaries up to 88% of the benchmark, we will find that the average worker's monthly pay will be earned by a Minister in 2-3 hours. Does the Cabinet not feel a tinge of discomfort drawing taxpayers' money at such rate? At such rates, can Ministers and Singaporeans share the same dreams?

Another reality is that our leaders may face problems in marshalling the people to make sacrifices for the country.

About 4 years ago, Dr Vivian Balakrishnan told the House that his son had asked whether one should be prepared to die for Singapore. This sparked off a heated public debate. The cynics invariably linked this question to Ministerial salaries. To quote a member of the public, and I paraphrase: "Who are we trying to kid? Before we start talking about dying for Singapore, let us look at our leaders. We are told that we cannot get good leaders unless we pay top dollar, so why expect more from the rest of us"?

Citizens should be able to look to leaders for moral leadership and inspiration. If what they perceive are mercenaries at the helm, then asking them to make sacrifices will be met with cynicism and indifference. This will not bode well for Singapore's future. What will happen when crunch time comes? Is this a time bomb planted for the future of Singapore?

*Salaries and Nation Building*

If we are seriously unable to interest good people into public office, we must ask why other countries can do it and we cannot. Is it just money, or the fact that we have not invested in creating a culture of high public-spiritedness?

In some countries, there are young people aspire to hold public office. SM Goh had previously said that we could not expect to behave like people in other countries because we are a young nation and people still see things in material terms. How sad. After 41 years of nationhood, national service and national day parades, what do we teach our children? Do we judge a person's worth by his salary? If so, we have wasted millions of tax dollars on these nation-building efforts, which have truly been in vain!

Public service must remain a noble undertaking for which people are prepared to make sacrifices in exchange for the benevolent power to improve the lives of others. If we corrupt this by money, we can be efficient but never a country of high ideals. As such, I cannot agree with the Members who see political office as yet another career choice. It must be more than a job, and the holder must be able to think of others besides himself.

In the popular American comic strip, the Wizard of Id, there was a public address by the King to his subjects from the royal balcony. The King began: "Remember the Golden Rule!" One of the subjects called back: "What's that?" Back came the royal reply: "Whoever has the gold makes the rules!"

If the gold is the taxpayers' money, then Singapore is not that far from the Kingdom of Id!

And it does not matter what transparency the government has claimed in this attempt to justify the pay hike.



Always view both sides of the tale. Or attend Parliament in the public viewing gallery, if not to listen, just to catch the ones who nod off during a lengthy speech.

Adieu!