Useless rubbish...

Ever felt like blogging something without actually having anything good/useful/funny/anything resembling normalcy to blog about?

Yeah....

Gah, I wish my brain would hurry up and get creative! No point doing CD reviews if they were boring, right?

I'll tell you one thing, THIS post will definitely not get Tomorrowed. Pity, the last time it happened, this blog got a nice healthy spike in readers for a few hours. Good times, good times....

Cough, cough, wheeze, wheeze, oh what a pain it is....

Why does Santa have three farms? Because he likes to hoe hoe hoe.

Strange fever this. It's mostly gone during the day, but I go to sleep, and it returns right after I wake up.

Not to mention the return of the dreaded Coughs. So bad it woke me up twice at 2 and 4 am. And the awful cough mixture, BLEH!

This fever better hurry up and leave, I've got a job to find!

Sad last week, wasn't it? My cousins lost a grandfather, my sister lost a good friend. It's been a very long time since I last experienced both. Not ones I'd like repeats of. My condolences, guys.

Be very afraid...

That, my friends, is my neighbourhood, as seen from Google Earth.

Gives you a warm feeling inside you, doesn't it?

Here's 2 more pictures of our sunny island.


Marina Bay


Orchard Road

Temperature's rising....

I'll have you guys know that the last time I played in the rain was 2 Sunday mornings ago.

So can anybody explain the 39 degree temperature I have ONLY now?!

Thing is, I only got sick after eating some chicken 2 nights ago.

I repeat, chicken.

Argh! And December was going so well...

Just spreading a quick word...

I forgot if I've said this before, but I'll say it anyway:



Sure, it'll make some blogs look wonky. But c'mon! Better security! Slightly faster loading! TABBED BROWSING!

To end baldness caused by hair-pulling from IE problems, click here.

Time's Persons of the Year 2005

Methinks Time ran out of ideas here. I mean, try naming 1 person as 2005's Person of the Year yourself.

Hard, isn't it?

Here's how I see it. 2005 will be forever known as the year of the natural disasters. The tsunami aftermath (not the tsunami itself, that's still 2004), Hurricane Katrina, Indian earthquake. So Time's editors might decide to be cute this year and put Mother Nature as "Person" of the Year. (See 1984: PC for Machine of the Year; 1989: Endangered Earth for Planet of the Year.) But they thankfully steered away from that. However, I'm in favour of putting ALL the relief workers who helped with the disasters as People of the Year, e.g the year when the American GI was Man of the Year. But I suppose that won't sell copies.

So they put Bill Gates, his wife and Bono. Sure, those three are the poster childs when it comes to helping the needy. Just imagine how richer Bill would be if he wasn't so generous. Consider me cynical though, but this is probably just a good way to sell copies. Notice how Bono is at the center. Besides, I have a feeling Time has always wanted to put good ol' Bill as Person of the Year for the longest time. They missed the boat at 1995, when he DID deserve the honour.

Ah well, what do I know about Time's business practices anyway? Just consider this a writing exercise of my awareness of current affairs.

I get by with a little help from my friends....

I don't usually post song lyrics here. That seems kinda like what a tweenage female blogger would do. You know, the ones who tYpE LyKe tHiS LOL and put their pics all over their blogs, their oh-so-blindingly bright coloured blogs?

EDIT (December 20 2005): See what I mean?

But then again, they usually post lyrics by boybands (HACK!) and Avril (HACK!!!!). Nothin' by the Beatles. And this song from Sgt. Pepper's (review coming soon) is now one of my theme songs. I'll explain the song and how it means to me in the album review. For now, I'll let the song explain itself. Relax, read the lyrics, try to find and listen to the song itself, and let the good times roll. Preferably with a good friend of your own.

With A Little Help From My Friends - The Beatles

What would you think if I sang out of tune,
Would you stand up and walk out on me.
Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song,
And I’ll try not to sing out of key.
I get by with a little help from my friends,
I get high with a little help from my friends,
Going to try with a little help from my friends.

What do I do when my love is away.
(does it worry you to be alone)
How do I feel by the end of the day
(are you sad because you’re on your own)
No I get by with a little help from my friends,
I get high with a little help from my friends,
Going to try with a little help from my friends.

Do you need anybody,
I need somebody to love.
Could it be anybody
I want somebody to love.

(Would you believe in a love at first sight,)
Yes I’m certain that it happens all the time.
(What do you see when you turn out the light,)
I can’t tell you, but I know it’s mine.
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends,
I get high with a little help from my friends,
Going to try with a little help from my friends.

Do you need anybody,
I just need someone to love,
Could it be anybody,
I want somebody to love.
I get by with a little help from my friends,
Yes I get by with a little help from my friends,
With a little help from my friends.

What am I doing up this early?

Usually, it's 10, 11 am. Oh well, can't complain, I get to eat breakfast earlier.

Now, I'm just opening my eyes up to the fact that I may be interested in too much stuff. Like Metal just like I said in that last post. I'll buy CDs and attend concerts.

Also interested in movies. I'll buy the tickets. How about TV? I'll diligently watch all my favourite shows. Soccer? Of course, I try to watch every match on ESPN. Oh yeah, let's not forget the other genres of music that I like. I do listen to every genre that I can, with of course the preference to Pop (buy CDs), Dance (CDs and clubs) and SOME aspects of Rock (if it's Punk, forget it).

Books? Trying to save up for Dan Brown. Food? Got the belly to prove my love for it. Sci-Fi? I don't even know where to begin. Wrestling? Gimme the remote, it's time for Smackdown! Dancing? Not that I can breakdance, but I sure can move my feet if the music moves me. The Arts? When I can go to a play that suits my fancy, I will. The internet? More than 100 blog posts, and it still ain't enough.

I'm definitely interested in losing the aforementioned belly.

See, I don't know about you guys, but I'm so stretched thin by all these interests I'm giving myself. I don't have the time, and even less money, to indulge them all!

I'm so confused.....

I've got blisters on my fingers!

Writers are right when they say the skill of writing depends on several factors, one of them being that you have to be prolific in this, write every day to hone your skills, the more you put off your writing, the more you won't feel like writing. It's kinda true now, I don't feel like writing this piece, but I don't want this blog to lay stagnant. This is not me apologising if this post isn't up to your God knows how high standards. Or maybe it is. Bah, chances are you won't care anyway so let's move on.

I've got a few notes on that supposedly Devilishly evil music they call Heavy Metal, an area of music so big it's got it's own section in HMV. It's basically for me, just loud drums, grinding guitars and loud unintelligable words. Seriously, I heared the Slipknot live album at HMV and all I could make out was "RAAAARRRAARAHAHRHARMUTHAPUCKARARHRRAHHAHARHA!!!!". So you know what? There may be some life-changing message in those lyrics, but if I can't understand it, I won't care. I'll just enjoy the loud drums and grinding guitars, which I do take a visceral pleasure in. And anyway, that's how I approach most music. The melody first, the lyrics later, if ever. But anyway, I was always a little blase about metal. My Dad's past insistence on putting Deep Purple, Scorpions and some Malay bands on the CD player again and again and again made sure of that. Seriously, if I hear that blasted whistle opening of 'Winds of Change', I'm going to blow some wind myself.

It's only after listening to the so-called first ever Metal song, 'Helter Skelter' by the Beatles, did I really start getting into the metal sound. That song, BTW, also made me a Beatle fan. I mean, seriously, who knew sappy, melodramatic Paul McCartney could rock (and I do mean RAWK!) like that? Anyway, I'm really starting to get into the whole Metal soung thing. Particularly if it's Emo. I don't know why I didn't get into Emo sooner, it sounds perfect for me. Just as long as I stay away from the old stuff my Dad digs, I'm fine with any other Heavy Metal song or band.

Like the Best of Pantera album I just bought. It's loud, it's fun, it's perfect for a personal Primal Scream session. And Dimebag really can play that mother. And no, I wasn't aware of his death anniversary until the day after I bought it. I am however aware that John Lennon's 25th death anniversary is today. Heh. (RIP, Johnny boy)

Anyway, I just think the CD's alright, but I only listened to it once, because I kinda enjoyed the other CD I bought that day, Sgt. Pepper's. I listened to that every day for a week. But that's probably for another post. Just warning you that if you do listen to Sgt. Pepper's, don't do it right after a hard-rocking album like Pantera's. You'll end up feeling a little under-whelmed.

I am well aware that Heavy Metal is just as much a visual affair as it is an aural one. If I'm ever to experience the full Metal experience, (as full as I'm ever going to get in sunny Singapore) I'll have to be in a concert. I'm also well aware of what exactly happens in those concerts. Looking at the Slipknot concert photos, I wonder if I would even survive. Those Hell's Angels stories don't make it better.

The closest to a metal concert I've been to? Once, I was at a mini-concert. There I was in the middle of the crowd. I suppose I should have seen the warning signs, which came in the form of rocker type people surrounding me. Yep, that was one time I did stand out, image wise. Anyway, Cherry Chocolate Candy was leaving the stage, and the Bushmen came on. And before I knew it, I was right in the middle of a freakin' mosh pit! At least I think it was a mosh pit, it was all a blur. But there sure was a whole lotta bumping. I'll never forget that moment, least of all when I tried to grab something, anything and (oh boy) grabbed some woman's breast. That wasn't the memorable part, it's the flirtatious way she looked at me after it happened that creeped me out. One quick and profuse apology (and a wink from her) later, I pried myself out and high-tailed it out of there. This happened near Woodlands MRT. The scary thing is, I know that's NOTHING compared to what I might see and experience in, say, a Metallica concert. My skin is crawling just thinking about it. But hey, I'll do anything once.

One last note. If anyone ever hears me describe any song as 'BRUTAL!', please feel free to shoot me.

Earworm of the Moment

A Day in the Life by the Beatles

One of those avant-garde songs from one of those avant-garde albums, this being Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Loved John's depressed part, Paul's happy part, the orchestra, the babbling at the end, the note so high only dogs can hear. Heck, I love the whole album. Not at first, but this is one of those albums where you have to listen more than once.

Curse of the Dad

Ok, I got in trouble with my Dad. Again. So he took away the modem. Again. So now only my sister can use in front of him. Again.

So here I am reduced to typing this post in Ngee Ann. What to do, may as well get used to not being on the internet and blogging and chatting on MSN as often as I like.

Again.

Writer's Block stinks.

True story: When I was a lot younger, I had ambitions to be a writer. Not surprising considering I was probably the biggest bookworm in Bukit Gombak. Ideas keep floating in my head. Most of 'em pretty dumb, e.g. Earth on a collision course with asteroid THRICE it's size. I even envisioned myself as a secret agent, going to each continent to fight crime in all its forms. I planned a grand death scene for myself in Antartica. Heck, I even imagined the covers, with me posing ala James Bond. With horrible teeth and baby fat.

And how about this? A story about people who see an apparition, which looks like a ghostly circle. And the people who see that apparition would die in 7 days. And what did I give it as a title? "The Ring". Years before Sadako haunted movie screens everywhere. I swear on my handphone it's true.

Ah, those were the (very imaginative) days. What happened? Y'know, the reason I usually get such high marks in my essay writings back in secondary school was not just because of my grammar and vocab. In fact, I knew my command of both was excellent so I concentrated on trying to actually entertain the teacher marking the paper, making 'em laugh or cry. Good vocab, good grammar, and damn good story-telling. That's what I counted on to pass my essay writings. Oh, and lots of practise too, which I got in school. Ah, but no more. For three years now, I've let the story-teller in me lay dormant. And the result? You're looking at it. Periods of brightness but overall, a snoozefest. One huge reason for me getting a blog was to just plain and simply write. About anything really. But, well, I was never good at non-fictional stuff, was I? It's always fiction I excelled at.

I'm not saying I'm going to write The Great Singapore Novel and publish it or anything. I'm just going to doodle a bit and see what I can come up with. I might even tackle that very interesting sci-fi story my cousin told me. If she doesn't mind of course, it is her story after all.

To jumpstart my creative juices a bit (and kill the ever-increasing boredom enveloping me), I've given myself a personal challenge. Borrow Homer's The Iliad, William Thackeray's Vanity Fair and James Joyce's Ulysses from the library and finish them all in the three weeks I'm allowed to keep them. That's over 2000 pages.

Can I do it?

Probably not. But I'll have fun trying anyway.

As a final sidenote, I'm getting rid of the old Tagboard. Nothing wrong with it, but I just find myself preferring CBox nowadays. And I might as well start to actually reply to all your tags. It'll be rude not to.

Taken from Tomorrow.sg.....

First, a party hosted by the Young Deluded Fools PAP.



It's on a Friday, so I may not be able to go. But it's still an interesting sounding party isn't it?

And a point I want to make: the party hosted by the PAP at Zouk, with all-white dress code and Dear Leader Lee and all a few months back? Candidate for 'WTF? Moment of the Year'.

And then there's this:

Rock scissors paper stone Concert

According to Alan from that site: ""Joie de Vivre" - 'Joy of Life', is our way of allowing local bands to display their creativity when it comes to music by performing their original compositions. These songs consist of several different kinds of genres ranging from rock to blues. Through this event, we hope to raise the public awareness of local music and the undiscovered talents of budding bands."

Didn't I say I wanted to go to a concert like this? Sweet.

Not all limericks have to be funny or, for that matter, good...

I always avoid any strife
Don't hate, it's much better to like
But when Granny's at home
Yelling hard at the phone
I wonder, what's wrong with this life?

Never blog when you're feeling messed-up.

Wow. That last post was...embarrasing.

Should I delete it?

Naaah. Though maybe I'll just censor the F words.

So, in the world of me now.

Original Sin, well, it's been good to me...financially wise. But honestly? I don't belong there. I never belonged there. I felt like an atheist in a church/mosque/synagouge/whatever everytime I step into the place. Ok, fine, I've had my cock-ups there, but I improved, really. But the point is, I'm miserable there, and I can't work being miserable. Yes, I'm aware that I'm going to be in more miserable jobs than this. But at least now, I don't have a family to feed, so I still have a choice. So two weeks notice, and I'm out.

So what's next? I tried Cathay Cineleisure. In fact, I got interviewed yesterday. Unfortunately, I was late for that interview because the stupid bus broke down. I got there 30 minutes late. And when I finally got interviewed, 'sigh', let's just say I didn't talk well, even by my standards.

So, one "We'll call you later" and a day later, no call. The one job I might have actually enjoyed and I probably didn't get it.

Did I get depressed again? Nope. Just resigned. In some ways, that's a little worse.

Cheer up, mate. Harry Potter this Saturday at GV Marina.

Some points about GV Marina. I went there twice, a few months ago for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and 2 years ago with my dad for Austin Powers in Goldmember. And one thing I noticed both times? Ads. Lots and lots....and LOTS of ads before the movie. There wasn't many people for Charlie, but for Goldmember, the theatre was packed, and the people were pissed. The movies only started 15 minutes later.

Oddly enough, that's why I picked GV Marina again. What can I say, I love ads. And it builds up the anticipation.

A lacklustre post to follow a bizarre post. Nice.

This post is pointless!

(Time to be lame.)

What the hell do I write now? I mean, I'm feeling down in the dumps, again, yet at the same time, I feel on top of the world! (In short, Everest in the Marianas Trench)

Can someone just please tell me how to talk properly, it really would be nice. No more uhs, ums, stutters and Bugs Bunny voice. (Meh, the voice is cute sometimes, I must admit.)

Imagine no possesions? Sorry John, can't do that. You wanna be a hermit, fine, be my guest. And say hi to George for me. (Hi, Fiz!)

Toot sweets, chaps! CloretsTM makes you go all minty fresh inside! (No, no, Listerine is the way to go!)

All the imaginary friends in the world can't help cure my acne. (Well, of course they won't. They're not trained dermatologists.)

Did you know that Champagne is used to worship fleas? (I prefer to use a nice Chardonnay.)

I'm a topsy-turvy mad-man, flipping about with a chained keyboard. (Pfft, mad-MAN? Don't flatter yourself!)

Am I making sense? Is Bush a moron? (Un-American! Oh wait...)

Who ordered this lava lamp anyway? (The 70s. They want it back by the way.)

I just got married...to my hand. (Well, at least you don't need to talk to it anymore.)

I may be a creep, I may be a loser, I may even wonder what the hell I'm doing here, but funk, funk, FUNK IT! ;) I'm going to make damn sure that I do belong here! (Somewhere, Thom Yorke is seething.)

So ends this post. Cheerio! (Cheerio then! And don't write crap like this again!)

Get your White Elephants right here!

Whether you know about the Buangkok White Elephant or not...is irrelevant. (Personally, I think it was Over-Reaction 101 on the part of the authorities.)

What matters, is that it inspired a few 16-year-old RGS girls (hate them yet?) to make a t-shirt.

A political comment from a bunch of supposedly apathetic Singaporean teens? Maybe. But who cares? I've been wanting to buy a t-shirt anyway. Why not this? After all, it goes with my eyes. And you can't tell me that elephant doesn't look cute.




Naturally, to avoid a call from those guys in white, they've added a little something in their infosheet.

"We would like to remind the public that even though the White Elephant has become our mascot and symbol for the project, we are in no way attempting to judge or condone the Buangkok MRT incident. Rather, we are using the accidental fame of the elephants to spark interest in our project; they also serve as a reminder that legal boundaries are important and should be adhered to even while expressing one's views and opinions about political issues."

Translation: PLEASE DON'T SUE US, LEH! WE PROMISE TO BE GOOD LOYAL SINGAPOREANS AND NEVER MIGRATE, EVER!

Ring 'em up at proj.white.elephant@gmail.com for purchase details. That's if you decide that the shirt goes with your shoes. More info here.

Note to self: Cancel Psychiatry as career option

I've always wanted to see a psychiatrist. Ever since that one episode of Animaniacs, with the Warner brothers and sister seeing that "Pee-see-ky-atrist". Always wondered what they would make of my own mind. Heaven knows, I often wonder if I'm sane at all at times.

I basically have 2 versions of myself I use in public. The "quiet" guy, who would just sit there, a glazed look on his face, lost in his own world, smiling only feebly at people when he was addressed. I usually use persona that in front of strangers, like new classmates. Sure, some people would find this silent person interesting, and try to get through to them. But the "quiet" guy, ever skeptical about the intentions of these people, would always try to back away from them. He suceeds with some of them, losing possibly good friends in the process. This guy usually pops up whenever I get depressed, which I must add, is getting more frequent.

Then there is the "cartoon" guy. He usually pops up when I'm in a good mood and surrounded by people I know and love. He's talkative, interested in everything around him, a joker with a plethora of lame jokes, a very sociable person (believe it or not) and just flat-out crazy. Some find him weird, some find him charming. This guy, I swear to God, nearly got me a few girlfriends. The reason I still don't have one is because here, the skeptical trait of the "quiet" guy creeps in, and I back out at the last moment. I try to use this persona every day, but the world being what it is, and me being a natural pessimist, I can't help but let the "quiet" guy take over, even for a few minutes.

But whatever persona I use, some traits of mine remain the same. I'm dopey, a blur-toad and a little slow on the uptake. See, I may have just said the same thing three times! It's my need to impress people, my need to repent for the horrible mistakes I made regarding my social life in the past. But I still cannot get myself over the teases, taunts and outright bullying I endured in Primaries 1 to 3. I think from then on, I have always treated new people with a little apprehension. "Are they going to like me? Are they going to make fun of me? Call me names? Oh God, I better not risk it, I have to stay away from them!" All that really came to a head when the teasings reached a vindictive high, my attention span mysteriously dropping which lead to a near-catastrophic fall of grades, and a damn tuition teacher which went too far in disciplining me for the aforementioned attention span drop that led to me having a hatred to anything to do with tuition.

It may be ten years ago, and it may seem nothing to some of you, but honestly, I don't think my confidence and self-esteem ever recovered from that year on. From one of the best students to a mediocre one. Thank God my English actually improved after all that, or I may have ended up somewhere worse that Yusof Ishak Secondary School. (No offense, YISS, I still love you! :D)

After reading that article of parents using hypnotism to improve their child's minds, and more recently, Wigan Athletic using hypnotism to help their players reach an unbelievable 2nd place in the English Premiership, I'm considering begging my parents to send me to Woodbridge or wherever pronto. Does it really work? Does it have scientific merit? Hell if I know. But after the last few months of harboring very bad thoughts (of the bloody variety), I'm willing to give it a shot.

Anything's better than another day with the knowledge that the Internet may be my only hope of getting more friends.

Smack those strings!

Oasis' Wonderwall and George Harrison's My Sweet Lord are 2 songs that are part of the reason why I bought that guitar for my birthday. You know, the one collecting dust bunnies at the foot of my bed.

Ok, I am now aiming to play those 2 songs well by this time, in 2 years.

I know, I know. But come on, my NS call-up letter could be in the post box any month now. I'll be too busy training, doing drills and being some guy's bitch to practice.

We need a new camera...

I think I know why I never look good in photos. It's the damn camera itself! It's true what they say, the camera adds 20% to your size. It probably explains why Jamie looks so unbelievably skinny in a not-sexy-at-all way in person, not at all like in FHM.

Damn, my cheeks are chubby.....

Aaaand cue Saloma....

You know, I think this goes without saying, but well, I have to say it anyway.

To all my Muslim friends and relatives and anybody else who's a Muslim reading this (unless you're planning to bomb the US Embassy in which case bugger off), Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri, Maaf Zahir dan Batin. To all the rest of you, go ahead. Lean back. Relax. Take off your shoes. Try to ignore the fact that your work/end-term project needs to be done yesterday.

I did plan to put up an MP3 of me singing Selamat Hari Raya up here, but then I figured, why ruin this happy day?

Now go forth and eat Ketupat!

Evil 18

(Before I start, I just to say something in response to something I just found ouut. If you want to know what it is, MSN me, cuz I ain't sayin' it here. And that something is this:
OH MY MUTHAFREAKIN' !#%$@*&!^$!$ GOD!!!

And now, today's blog entry.)





Dear sweet Sister, even though you're 18 today, it doesn't mean you now have the right to go out at night, shop till Dad's bankrupt and kiss all the cute guys out there. It just means you can watch naked boobs in the cinema.

Happy 18th Birthday, Ili Izyani. Just a few more years until you work full-time for your money to buy your clothes and cosmetics. And by work, I don't mean begging and pleading and flattering me, Mum and Dad.

And remember, I love you. MUACKS!!!

Fear the numbers!

Meet Hafiz. Once, not so long ago, he was a great kid, vibrant, full of life. He was the life of the party, he was the best friend anybody could have, and the top student in his class. He was also a fillial son to his parents. In short, he was a cool kid. His life so full of promise.

Then he started playing Sudoku.

At first, it was harmless fun. Once a day, he spends a few hours solving the daily puzzle in the newspaper. But it wasn't enough. He wanted more. So he bought a Sudoku puzzle book. But that wasn't enough either. So he bought more and more and more. He became addicted. Pretty soon, he ran out of money, but his need for Sudoku was far from abated. He started to borrow money from anyone he could, which led to rising debts. His parents got worried. They scolded him, whacked him with the cane, took away his allowance and even grounded him. His friends started avoiding him. They say he's a changed person. Whatever happened to the fun-loving Hafiz that they knew and loved? And his grades, where once he could get full marks in his Math tests, now they began dropping faster than a stone. But Hafiz didn't care. All that mattered to him was solving Sudoku puzzles. Just getting one complete row would send him into ecstacy. Soon, he began to steal and extort money from his now former friends. That was the last straw. His parents gave him an ultimatum. Quit Sudoku or they will call the police. Hafiz took a third choice. He ran away from home.

He had reached the point of no return.

Now, dressed only in tattered clothing, he digs around in trash bins around Singapore, hoping to find something, ANYTHING, related to Sudoku. Old newspapers, thrown out books. His life, which used to promise so much, is now destroyed.

Kids, don't be a Hafiz. Say NO to Sudoku.

It's there, you just have to look a bit.....

Now here's something I've been looking for for quite a while.

Probably not all the local bands out there. But this is still one of the best (and only?) lists of Singaporean bands.

You don't need an iPod! (Would be nice though...)

What with my sister not letting me use the internet at night, and my dad trying desperately to hide the modem everywhere, and my new job eating my time, and my inherent laziness, it's hard to update this darn blog. But will I quit? Heck no! I won't stop until I reach Xiaxue's level of popularity. Which probably might be soon, on account of the rumours I hear that pigs are growing little stubs on their sides that look suspiciously like wings.

Anyway, on to today's topic. PODCASTING! The new radio, so the hip people say. And here are some podcasts I recommend right now. Go to their websites or search for them in iTunes (Just click on Podcasts and then Podcast Directory. Then enter your podcast of choice in the search bar.)


The Richard Vobes Show: The very first podcast I ever subscribed to. A paid service now, but you can sample it for free. Typical British humour. And I like British humour. And (at the risk of sounding like a pervert) Georgie.

MuggleNet: A Harry Potter podcast. All the latest news on everybody's favourite teen wizard. I just wonder how they dig this stuff up about me?

LOST: The Transmission: A Podcast on my current favourite show. Geek haters and desperate housewives need not apply.

Browncast: Singapore's best blogger. Of course he has a podcast. He wouldn't be Singapore's best blogger then, hmmmm?

The Don and Drew Show: 987fm nearly lost this listener when they moved Jamie to the afternoon. But I stayed for 2 reasons: !) Daniel Ong back where he belongs on Jive Drive. 2) This show. And 3) Power 98 sounds too Malaysian, if that makes sense. I'll explain later. Anyway, Don and Drew is without a doubt the best show 987fm has ever had since Glenn Ong's Ego Trip. And no dodgy pschizophrenic voices too.

Now, a little explaing. A podcast is a couple of MP3s that need to be subscription-based. Meaning you have to subscribe to that particular show using a program like iPodder or iTunes. It is NOT a simple MP3 that just stick in your blog. (Like so. BTW, she sounds just like any other young Chinese Singaporean girl. Only thing is you insult her, she tears you a new a$$hole. Using perfect English.) That is called, simply, audioblogging. I might do that someday, once I get a voice recorder or a mike for this computer.

Yah, I know, my voice is weird, and people will heckle me to no end if they hear it. Well, if they can't appreciate how special my voice, tough on them.

Now if you'll excuse me, Final Fantasy 1 awaits me.

A face only a mother could love...

Now this is interesting, isn't it?

Try it yourself at Face Analyzer. Post your results in your blog. I would LOVE to know what you got. Especially the "Gay Factor" area.

"Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death!"

Let's see, do I have a witty opener? Do I? Hmmmm, guess not. Y'all just have to make do with a lame opener.

Now then, I would like to announce that I've gotten a job. A REAL job this time, not the usual job I say I have.

Generic Person: "You working currently?"
Me: "Oh yeah, I'm a professional loafer, while having a side job as an amateur gamer"

Original Sin is the name of the "lucky" restaurant which hired me. Now, usually, I'd take some time to talk about the less...pleasing aspects of the restaurant, but really, all those reports about people being fired because their blogs weren't hyping their companies as the Biggest Thing Coming to your HomeTM. And who knows how many spies this restaurant has hired? (One of the owners is Italian, and he strongly reminds me of Don Corleone.) So I'll just say that vegetarian foods (which they serve) aren't my cup of tea and leave it at that. Oh, and the music they keep playing (and replaying. And replaying. Ad Infinitum) can make Gandhi unleash his inner Shiva.

And at the moment, it's Fasting Month again! Until the 3rd of November, no eating, drinking, smoking, gossiping, cursing, playing the fool, even digging the nose, basically being the Principal's Dream Pupil. From dawn to dusk. For a full month. For all my Muslim friends. good luck to you all. For all my non-Muslim friends, stop making fun of us and try it. If you can work a busy 4-hour Lunch shift in a restaurant without once eating a grain of bread or a drop of water, then you can come and talk.

So basically, the best thing we realy can do during this holiest of holy months is this:



Now if you'll excuse me, Desperate Housewives has finished downloading. (I heart Bree. I know, I 'm surprised myself.)

The Race is On

In honour of the upcoming new season of the Greatest Reality Show on TV(TM), The Amazing Race, here's a recap of the show when it visited lovely Singapore.

Quote:
"It's time for the Detour, which Phil explains is a choice between...well, you know. Phil needs to comb his hair, by the way. In any event, the Detour this week is Dry or Wet. In Dry, you take a car and drive yourself to an apartment complex. The trick to finding it is that all the streets around it have the same name. (My parents' neighborhood is actually the same way.) Once you're there, you have to find a particular apartment, in spite of the fact that the numbering is wonky and the elevators work funny and it's all very, very slapsticky and not a very good Detour option at all. Oh, and when you find the apartment you're looking for, "Singapore's number one television star" will be there, and will hand you your clue. I don't want to say anything about Singaporean television, but judging from the looks of this guy, it's no wonder they like American TV. Anyway, in Wet, they have to drive themselves to the zoo and find the "mermaids," which turns out to mean a swim across the manatee enclosure. Also really not a particularly great Detour option. This leg of the race? Lame."

Hairul's Wedding

So for those family members of mine who cares, and that's probably all of you, here are the pictures from Abang Hairul's beggining of his sentence, i mean, his marriage.

Click here to see Hairul kiss goodbye to sweet bachelorhood and hello to a lifetime of nagging by his wife.

Leave some comments on those pics will ya? Thanks.

I think the twins don't like me. Eh, them's the breaks.

It's Fall!

Just one note: Here are the shows that will fill the coveted Thursday 8PM timeslot in America.

Joey (NBC)
Survivor (CBS)
Alias (ABC)
The OC (Fox)
Smallville (The WB)
Everybody Hates Chris (UPN)

All those shows. AT THE SAME TIME! Chris is a new show, but UPN must be very confident to pitch it against those heavyweights. I love ALL those shows. How could I freakin' choose if I were there?

Here's something to make you think.....

I read the following paragraph on The New York Times Online. (Excellent website for an excellent newspaper.)

"Before 9/11 the Federal Emergency Management Agency listed the three most likely catastrophic disasters facing America: a terrorist attack on New York, a major earthquake in San Francisco and a hurricane strike on New Orleans. "The New Orleans hurricane scenario," The Houston Chronicle wrote in December 2001, "may be the deadliest of all." It described a potential catastrophe very much like the one now happening."

What the heck's happening there? It took less than 24 hours for people to come rushing to Asia's aid last December. That is great, really, but why is the same not happening in New Orleans? The fact that this is an American city makes it all the more perplexing.

Oh Mr Bush, people are dying in your backyard.....

W. O. W.

This is what I think about blockbuster movie trailers. If it gives me goosebumps, then I can guarantee myself a fan-bloody-tastic good time when I watch the actual movie.

This trailer gave me so many goosebumps, my friend next to me offered me her jacket because she thought I was freezing. Really, do I have to say more?

Google Talk

Well, they've done it. Google's finally taking on Gates himself. They've released Google Talk, facing off against the almighty MSN. They've added VoIP. In a nutshell, you can talk to your buddies over the internet. All that's needed are speakers (check) and a microphone (Say, Dad, how's about a quick trip to Sim Lim?). I think MSN has it too, but God knows how well that works. Maybe with Google Talk's simpler interface, we'll all sound better. And Google being Google, it's all FREE!!!

C'mon, chances are you're Singaporean. You can't resist free stuff anymore than I can't resist Maria Sharapova wearing a bikini the size of my thumb. The interface is much, much simpler than most of the IMs I tried. I got no one in my Buddy List yet so I can't say how the chat works. But you can fix that, can you? My e-mail's on the right, so invite me already! Installation is dead easy and super-quick, it's done faster than you can say "Gates is a wiener".

And admit it. This is a good way to stick it to Big Bad Microsoft right?

Sadly, only Gmail account holders can use it. But heck, I've got 46 more invitations so just ask and ye will receive.

And before I forget, here's Google Earth. Good for spying on my own neighbourhood. Also free. Makes me almost want a Ph.D so I can work in Google.

I like Mars bars

I recently got an e-mail. It goes a little something like this:

> > >Do you know .. ???
> > >
> > >"Planet Mars will be the brightest in the night sky starting August. It
> > >will look as large as the full moon to the naked eye. This will cultimate
> > >on Aug. 27 when Mars comes within 34.65 M.Miles of earth. Be sure to
>watch
> > >the sky on Aug. 27 2005, at 12:30 am. It will look like the earth has 2
> > >moons. The next time Mars may come this close is in 2287. Share this
>with
> > >ur friends as NO ONE ALIVE TODAY will ever see it again"

That got me excited. For awhile. Then I remembered reading something like this LAST year. And so I Googled a bit. And you know what? Right! It's another hoax courtesy of the Internet.

Just be glad this ain't no virus. Still, it really did happen in 2003. I just wished I knew about it then. Did you know, I dreamt about seeing our neighbouring planets twice now. I especially particularly enjoyed the first one, where I was in a long corridor with 8 doors, each leading to a different planet in our Solar System. Seeing Saturn must have made me giggle in my sleep.

Gotta go get started on Jane Eyre now. I hear it's a Victorian novel that is NOT used as a cure for imsonia.

This used to be a 2000 word essay.

I started out this post as a really, really, really long account of my medical checkup at the CMPB this morning. I then realized that not many of you, unlike me, sadly, have all the time in the world to read my ramblings. So here, instead, is a heavily-edited summary.

Woke up at 5AM. Had Chicken Sandwiches for breakfast (yummy!). Left home at 6.20AM with my Mom. Reached Redhill MRT 30 minutes later. Convinced Mom to not follow me any further. Reached CMPB just at the stroke of 8. Measure my head (big), shoulders (big), feet (big) and waist (obscenely big). Tried, and failed, to pee the first time for the urine test. Got my finger pricked and my blood taken and went to do the other test while I filled up my bladder with the water cooler water. Got a dental checkup and a dental x-ray. Got a full upper body x-ray. Prayed that X-Rays won't give me prostate cancer. Got an eye-test with the usual 'Look at blurry letters across the wall' test. Failed dismally. Got to go to another appointment there again next month. Joy. Did a really neat ear test. I'd explain it, but this is a summary, so suffice to say, it involved headphones, a sound-proof box and Metallica. Actually, just a bunch of bleeps, but 'twould be cool with Metallica. Bladder gets full. Finally did urine test by peeing into a cup and sticking a dipstick into the urine. Resisted a mad urge to drink to President S.R. Nathan's health. Had my height, weight and blood pressure taken. The last one nearly squeezed my arm dry. All these new-fangled machines....Anyway, had to strip and take some body test involving that machine with the suction caps. Ripping the caps off left me with quite a few hickeys. Entered a doctor's office. Got questioned about whether I smoked, whether I'm in a gang, whether I'm gay (serious!), any tatoos, any studs. All in 5 seconds flat. You think I talk fast, get a load of that guy. Oh, and he also examined my privates. Don't forget the butt-probe. Psyche!

Pause for breath. And maybe a little dramatic tension.

Medical test over. That took around 2 1/2 hours. The next test is mental. That took around 2 hours. And it comprised of.....sitting on my butt in front of a criminally ancient computer, answering IQ and Math questions. Some are obvious, some hopelessly complicated. And all the while, I was timed. When time's up, the test is over, whether I finished or not. Eventually, I finished. Not before feeling like a nincompoop. Got a Guide about Preparing for NS before leaving. Nearly got permanantly blinded by the sunlight.

Well, that's that. After my eye appointment next time, I can expect an NS call up sometime around April. Yep, can't wait to go. Can't wait to say goodbye to my Mom's nagging, my sister's obnoxiousness, my Grandma's cooking, my comfy bed, my TV.......

Salute!

Salute!
Originally uploaded by meesotofreak.

Singapore is 40 today yada yada yada congratulations yada yada yada, now everyone just salute the damn flag already!

Just kidding, I am proud this little red dot not only survived, but prospered to be a ripe 40 years old.

Dear Leader Lee must shedding tears right about now. "My baby's all grown up....."

Meet Cho Chang

chochangsm
Originally uploaded by meesotofreak.

Katie Leung as Cho Chang, Harry Potter's crush in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

If you ask me, she looks Singaporean. Anyway, truth be told, I've always pictured Shikin as Cho Chang. Shikin when she was in Sec 2, I mean.

Three weeks of nothing

I don't believe it. A three week forced break from my blog and I still have nothing to say. And as long as my home computer isn't fixed, it'll stay that way. THe pics I wanted to show the world are now officially dated, but I'm going to show 'em anyway so there!

Haiku review of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (SPOLIERS!):

Incredible book
Pity about Dumbledore
Oh well, them's the breaks

London Update

Well, fucking hell. Not 5 minutes after I wrote the post below, I hear London is being attacked by terrorists from this blog.

I say again. Fucking hell.

London Calling

Yeah, real original title, I know.

Owing to me having some time (way too much time) yesterday, I went ahead to Raffles City to catch the IOC action there. To recap for all visiting Venusians, the Internation Olympic Commitee is holding its Olympic SessionTM here in Singapore to vote for who gets to hold the 2012 Olympics, blah blah blah goldcakes. The voting takes place at the Raffles City Convention Centre, right above the Raffles City Shopping Mall. There my destination lies.

I apologize for the lack of photos, as my sister chose yesterday as the day she decided to bring the camera and take pictures of her new school. Bah. Moving on.

Note: The times are only estimates.

5:00PM - Waited at a bus stop for Bus No. 174 which will take me from my house all the way to the very entrance of Raffles City. I love the bus stops near my flat. All the buses servicing those stops can take me to places like Singapore Poly, Ngee Ann Poly, Holland V, Jurong Library, The National Library (Old & New), Orchard Road, Boat Quay, East Coast Park, to name a few. Who needs the MRT?

5:15PM - 174 arrives. No TV Mobile. I get bored instantly.

5:50PM - Arrival at Raffles Place. Yep, just as I thought, policemen everywhere. About 3 per square meters. I decide to walk one round round the Raffles City area.

6:00PM - Walked one round. Saw several armed policemen. Some armed with shotguns, some with SMGs, one with an M16. Nice. They couldn't seem to stop staring at me for some reason though. Do I look that suspicious? (Please don't answer that.) Thought of entering Swissotel. The amount of policemen and metal detectors changed my mind.

6:15PM - Entered Raffles City. For the first time in years mind you. Man, they changed the place somewhat. Didn't there used to be a bridge in the lobby? Anyway, the lobby was where I ended up, and wouldn't you know it, there's a big screen there, showing IOC President Jacque Rogge's mug. I see the lobby has an exhibition in the shape of the Olympic rings in the middle of the lobby. Quite a lot of people standing in the lobby and on the upper levels standing around watching the Olympic ScreenTM. On that very screen, Mr. Rogge announces the start of the first round of voting. The names of the candidate cities (Madrid, Moscow, New York, London and Paris) appear on the screen. I read somewhere that this round of voting will have the members voting on the cities in 4 rounds. On each round but the last, the city with the least amount of votes says bye-bye to their Olympic DreamTM and is eliminated. Voting will take 1 minute. Here's what I saw on the Olympic ScreenTM:

Moscow
New York City

Madrid
Paris
London

6:19PM - Mr. Rogge, President of the Insane Oinking Chickens, declares the vote closed. A few minutes go by, then someone hands Mr. Rogge a piece of paper. Says the President of the Irritating Onion Chewers: some voting statistics, nothing of importance, except that Moscow will not take part in the next round of voting. Translation: they'reeeeee out! Moscovites break their vodka bottles in despair. Not before emptying it into their mouths of course.

6:22PM - Mr. Rogge starts the 2nd round of voting. Meanwhile, I study the exhibition. They have summaries of the past Olympics from 1896 on. Man, the 1896 Greek athlete showcased in the 1896 summary needs to shave.

New York

Madrid
Paris
London

6:23PM - 2nd round closed. Soon, someone comes out with a piece of paper with the results. Amusingly, music is played right when that guy comes out. Not supposed to happen of course. Anyway, Mr. Rogge reads the paper and announced that New York will not participate in the next round of voting. Surprisingly enough (for me anyway), the crowd cheers. I shook my head, NYC was my personal fave. New Yorkers rose their middle fingers and swore as one.

6:25PM - The President of the Incorrigible Orange Chompers announces the opening of the 3rd round of voting. This time voting takes 2 minutes. More studying of the exhibition. That Nadia Comaneci's a cute one.

Madrid
Paris
London

6:27PM - Again, voting is closed. Again, someone comes out with the results on a piece of paper. Again, Play That Funky Music plays on the loudspeaker. Wait, scratch that last sentence. Mr. Rogge reads the paper and we say adios to Madrid. Some guy behind me says 'Bye Bye Raul'. Madridians continue to endure more tauntings from the Catalonians for still not hosting the Olympics.

6:30PM - The last 2 cities! The suspence grows! The curiously fetching Mr Rogge announces the opening of the final round of voting. By now, I see some French people gathering at the lobby. Including some women. Ooh la la!

6:32PM - You know the drill, except at the end, where Mr Rogge thanks the IOC members for voting and to invite them for a snack in the nearby room while they wait for the announcement of the winning city in one hour's time. A few people go 'CEHHHHH! Suspen onli!'. Obviously unaware of the 7:30PM schedule.

At this point, my legs were getting a little sore for standing for an hour. Naturally, I didn't heed that warning sign and went window shopping. Odd. Could've sworn there was a Times the Bookshop in Raffles City.

7:10PM - Went back down the lobby to get as close as possible to the screen. The French people I mentioned were sitting down right there at the centre. Eventually, a crowd formed everywhere from the lobby to the highest levels, including the highest level which was the Convention Centre where this whole thing was taking place. The Frenchies started to chant "PAREE, PAREE, PAREE". Oddly enough, I didn't see any English people around to counter those chants. Until a group of them started to chant "LONDON, LONDON, LONDON" from the Convention Centre level itself.

My feet got increasingly sore.

7:28PM - Some live feed appears on the screen to the cheers of all. Obviously, this isn't shown on Channel News Asia because we see the hosts Vivian Tan and some Chinese dude adjusting their clothes. The crowd loved it when Vivian tried to adjust her dress under her armpits. I must say, Vivian looks FINE! As fine as she was during her Showbuzz years. At this point, a few English got behind me and started chanting for their city. Notice I said "a few". Compared with the French, which was sizeable, this group of English men and women was made of 5 or 6 people. Therefore, their London chants were hopelessly drowned by the French.

7:30PM - A clock appears, counting down 30 seconds before the show starts proper. Guess what happens with 10 seconds to go? The crowd counts down the seconds and then the grand music plays and the show is on!

The hosts greets us in Malay, Chinese, English and the official language of the Improper Oblong Cows, French. What, no Tamil? Nah, Vivian already looks constipated trying to say Selamat Datang. The usual inane blabber ensues, your dress looks nice, everyone looks wonderful, blah blah blah dresscakes.

7:33PM - Eventually, the hosts introduce the much-talked-about (snicker) video of Singapore that the Idiots Only Clan kindly let the host country produce. Hey, don't let it be said that we can't take advantage of an opportunity like this. The video itself? Slick, well-produced, not overly patriotic (thank God), in fact probably very effective. Nice mix of tradition (lion dancing) and modernity (skateboarders).

7:36PM - Singapore's cheap tourism plug video ends. Now it's time to see the videos of the candidate cities. First up: Paris, directed by Luc Besson. If you've seen The Fifth Element, you know Luc's got some style. And boy does he show it here! It blows Singapore's video out of the water. The crowd cheered at the CGI planes forming the Olympic RingsTM. Oddly enough, not many athletes in the video.

7:38PM - New York up next, directed by Steven Spielberg. This one's a bit more modest, showing New York in black & white and at night, showing all New York's landmarks. Very nice, shows the spirit of New York well. I still prefered the video I saw earlier at home, which shows a torch bearer running through New York towards the Statue of Liberty.

7:40PM - Moscow this time. This one, I was shocked at the director's (whoever he is) seemingly lack of interest in showing Moscow and instead showing all the candidate cities and saying Thank You in their respective languages, ending in fireworks in the sky and the Moscow Olympic LogoTM. Lazy man, just lazy. (Speaking of which, I see this post is getting lazy too. Gotta step it up!) In fact, some of us in the crowd were wondering if they'd played the wrong tape, because it was never made obvious until the end that this was Moscow's video.

7:42PM - London video. This video uses comedy, something which I always advocate. An athlete runs through the streets, and ordinary Londoners get inspired by her and starts doing some sports of their own, for example two Englishmen fencing each other with umbrellas. Beckham cameos, and the ladies swoon.

7:46PM- Last video, Madrid style. It's basically a tourism video for Madrid, with some sports thrown in. 'Nuff said.

7:48PM - The crowd gets restless. The French and the English in the crowd (mostly the French) get louder and louder. My feet gets sorer and sorer and I nearly go deaf. The crowd is restless, which escalates into excitement when the hosts introduce Mr Jacque Rogge, president of the Incredibly Ornery Chimpanzees, to read out the host city of the 2012 Olympic GamesTM.

But first, the Olympic ThemeTM! Sung in French of course. Three local opera singers sing it. Impressively, I might add.

With the Theme out of the way, a Singaporean chick, excuse me, lady, comes out with the envelope holding the winning city's name.

Before opening the envelope, Mr. Rogge thanks Singapore for hosting this session. Raffles City thanks him back for making them obscenely rich during the last few days.

The lady hands Mr. Rogge the envelope. The sight of Mr. Rogge, president of the Impressively Obscene Cats, struggling to rip open the envelope gets some laughs. Eventually, the envelope is open. The crowd goes silent. I test that pin drop theory by dropping a pin. Didn't hear it drop. Must be the Basement 1 fountain drowning it out.

The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Too bad I didn't have a knife so that I could test that theory too.

"The IOC is proud to present the 2012 Olympiad Summer Games to the city of....."

The crowd draws its breath. The winner is.....

Holy cow.





The crowd goes wild! Obviously, the Singaporeans wanted London to win. Whether it's because they were our former colonial masters or for Beckham, I'm still not sure.

On the screen, the English delegates are going delirious. Everyone's celebrating, Beckham eventually coming up to celebrate and whore the camera. The French delegates are weeping. You gotta feel for them. 3 tries, 3 failures.

8:00PM - Crowd disperses, leaving a few beaming English men and women. One dude even sang Rule Britannia. Quite a lot of French people were still sitting around, shell-shocked. Two French girls (YOW!) were talking to a reporter (lucky son of a bitch).

I stayed around for awhile, hoping for a glimpse of Beckham. Hey, I hate the celebrity, but I still like the football player.

8:30PM - Whaddaya know? My waiting wasn't in vain. Channel News Asia holds an interview for Beckham at the Convention Centre. In plain sight of everyone one floor below where a crowd was gathering. So off I went. And thus I managed to get my first glimpse at football's most famous face. Sure, it's from one level down and 100m away, but a glimpse is a glimpse right?

See, this is where I really wished I had a camera.

8:35PM - Interview over, Beckham goes out of sight. The crowd stays there for a while. Then rumour spread that Beckham was coming out of the nearby entrance to the Convention Centre. So what else? Most of the crowd hot foot it to the entrance. I didn't though. I got my glimpse, and that's enough. Besides, there's more than one entrance/exit and the organizers would surely have found some way to sneak everyone to their hotels unnoticed.

Well, this post has gone on way too long. No problem if I'm Charles Dickens, but I'm not, so I'm going to conclude by saying that I really enjoyed being part of the moment. It's not a "remember it for the rest of my life" thing, but certainly memorable.

I'm going to the Hideout club this Friday. Maybe this time, I'll bring a camera.

It was a dark and stormy night...

Does anyone who read books NOT hate that line?

Well, in case you're wondering (Not likely, but play along), that line wasn't created by Snoopy. It's actually from a book from way back in the 30's. The 1830's to be exact. 'Paul Clifford' by Edward George Bulwer-Lytton. It's widely considered to be the worst opening sentence in the history of English Literature. It definitely ain't a "Call me Ishmael"

The opening sentence in full:

"It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents - except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the house-tops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness."

Link checklist

Brown-ed? Check.

Tommorow-ed? Check.

Miyagi-ed? Working on it. I hear he likes pretty girls.

Xiaxue-ed? Methinks the only way to do this is to royally piss her off, so no.

SPG-ed? In my dreams.


In other news, Ngee Ann Polytechnic is holding something for the World Cyber Games 2005. Geeks from all over the world coming together to click a few mouses and tap a few keyboards. Some, like this guy calling himself Fata1ity, even make it a living.

Just for the record, I'm not joining. I don't need some silly game competition to prove I already kick ass in StarCraft. Nobody can compete with my l33t Zerg rushing tactics and ability to cheat without anybody noticing.

How To Blog

I'm sure you've seen it already. Articles on how to blog from a blog. You might follow the advice. You might be inclined to spurn it, especially after seeing the aforementioned blog and its incredible and magnificent destruction of the English Language.

But you may want to follow this "How To Blog" article. Why? It won an award, for best article about blogging. Ain't that enough? Alright, also because the advice is actually good. So here it is, taken from TonyPierce.com.

how to blog by tony pierce, 110

1. write every day. (I've been doing that nowadays haven't I?)

2. if you think youre a good writer, write twice a day.

3. dont be afraid to do anything. infact if youre afraid of something, do it. then do it again. and again.

4. cuss like a sailor. (You mean like "You're a shit-ass muthafucka who likes gay porn and sucks Barbara Streisand's cunt"? I'll think about it.)

5. dont tell your mom, your work, your friends, the people you want to date, or the people you want to work for about your blog. if they find out and you'd rather they didnt read it, ask them nicely to grant you your privacy.

6. have comments. dont be upset if no one writes in your comments for a long time. eventually they'll write in there. if people start acting mean in your comments, ask them to stop, they probably will.

7. have an email address clearly displayed on your blog. sometimes people want to tell you that you rock in private. (Duly noted.)

8. dont worry very much about the design of your blog. image is a fakeout. (Hear Hear)

9. use Blogger. it's easy, it's free; and because they are owned by Google, your blog will get spidered better, you will show up in more search results, and more people will end up at your blog. besides, all the other blogging software & alternatives pretty much suck.

10. use spellcheck unless youre completely totally keeping it real. but even then you might want to use it if you think you wrote something really good.

11. say exactly what you want to say no matter what it looks like on the screen. then say something else. then keep going. and when youre done, re-read it, and edit it and hit publish and forget about it.

12. link like crazy. link anyone who links you, link your favorites, link your friends. dont be a prude. linking is what seperates bloggers from apes. and especially link if you're trying to prove a point and someone else said it first. it lends credibility even if youre full of shit.

13. if you havent written about sex, religion, and politics in a week youre probably playing it too safe, which means you probably fucked up on #5, in which case start a second blog and keep your big mouth shut about it this time.

14. remember: nobody cares which N*Sync member you are, what State you are, which Party of Five kid you are, or which Weezer song you are. the second you put one of those things on your blog you need to delete your blog and try out for the marching band. similarilly, nobody gives a shit what the weather is like in your town, nobody wants you to change their cursor into a butterfly, nobody wants to vote on whether your blog is hot or not, and nobody gives a rat ass what song youre listening to. write something Real for you, about you, every day. (I know, I did this a few posts ago. So sue me.)

15. dont be afraid if you think something has been said before. it has. and better. big whoop. say it anyway using your own words as honestly as you can. just let it out.

16. get Site Meter and make it available for everyone to see. if you're embarrassed that not a lot of people are clicking over to your page, dont be embarrassed by the number, be embarrassed that you actually give a crap about hits to your gay blog. it really is just a blog. and hits really dont mean anything. you want Site Meter, though, to see who is linking you so you can thank them and so you can link them back. similarilly, use Technorati, but dont obsess. write.

17. people like pictures. use them. save them to your own server. or use Blogger's free service. if you dont know how to do it, learn. also get a Buzznet account. several things will happen once you start blogging, one of them is you will learn new things. thats a good thing. (Once I get my hands on my sister's camera, watch out World!)

18. before you hit Save as Draft or Publish Post, select all and copy your masterpiece. you are using a computer and the internet, shit can happen. no need to lose a good post. (Common sense, hard at work.)

19. push the envelope in what youre writing about and how youre saying it. be more and more honest. get to the root of things. start at the root of things and get deeper. dig. think out loud. keep typing. keep going. eventually you'll find a little treasure chest. every time you blog this can happen if you let it.

20. change your style. mimic people. write beautiful lies. dream in public. kiss and tell. finger and tell. cry scream fight sing fuck and dont be afraid to be funny. the easiest thing to do is whine when you write. dont be lazy. audblog at least once a week.

21. write open letters. make lists. call people out on their bullshit. lead by example. invent and reinvent yourself. start by writing about what happened to you today. for example today i told a hot girl how wonderfully hot she is.

22. when in doubt review something. theres not enough reviews on blogs. review a movie you just saw, a tv show, a cd, a kiss you just got, a restaurant, a hike you just took, anything. (Note to self: I have got to start writing better reviews.)

23. constantly write about the town that you live in. (You mean Bukit Dullsville?)

24. out yourself. tell your secrets. you can always delete them later.

25. dont use your real name. dont write about your work unless you dont care about getting fired. (From now on, my name is Chrissy Poo Jr.)

26. dont be afraid to come across as an asswipe. own your asswipeness.

27. nobody likes poems. dont put your poems on your blog. not even if theyre incredible. especially if theyre incredible. odds are theyre not incredible. bad poems are funny sometimes though, so fine, put your dumb poems on there. whatever. (Oh God, how I agree with this.)

28. tell us about your friends.

29. dont apologize about not blogging. nobody cares. just start blogging again.

30. read tons of blogs and leave nice comments. (Done and about to be Done)

ONE World, ONE Voice

I know. Some people are getting really sick of those charity shows MediaCorpSe keep showing. Let's see: President's Star Charity, NKF, Ren Ci, Ikhlas, God knows how many. How rich do those guys think we are?

Bet you're wondering if there's any free charity?

There isn't.

But this is close.

ONE: The Campaign to Make Poverty History

You may have seen that ad on MTV with Brad Pitt, Bono, Bob Geldof, Cameron Diaz and countless others. This is the website that ad advertises. You guys may be burned by too many charity shows, but I bet you still want to help in any way. Well, here it is. Go to that website, sign that letter to George W Bush, sign the ONE declaration and make your voice be heard. I don't mean too sound preachy, but damn it all, the fact that there are still hungry children and poverty in Africa, Asia, even in the United States and right here in Singapore makes me sick. And AIDS of course. We may preach about safe sex and condoms, but the fact is for some, it's too late for that. Together as one, the world may be able to force the leaders at the G8 conference in Scotland in 7 days to do something. Increase aid to poor countries. Cancel their debts 100%. And you can do it with a few clicks of the mouse and some typing with the keyboard. Go to the ONE shop to buy shirts and wristbands to show your support. Besides, they look good, don't they?

In case you don't get this message from reading my blog, I'm going to e-mail every single person in my address book I can to make sure this message is heard. That's how serious I am.

And watch the Live 8 concert this Saturday, either on Channel 01 & 26 on Starhub, or at CHIJMES. It starts at 9PM.

ONE World.

src="http://www.one.org/media/banners/ONE_logo_treatments.gif"
width="180" height="150" border="0">

Perfect 10 is no more.....

....no more using the name Perfect 10, that is.

In case you just listened in to 987 FM and wondered what the heck is Sweet Child O' Mine doing on the so-called hippest station in Singapore and who is that ang-moh sounding DJ and what happened to Jamie, I'll tell you. It seems MediaCorp decided to mix things up and moved all the DJs to different slots and also "broaden the musical horizons". In order words, they decided to finally get a clue and stop playing hip-hop, or at least not 90% of the time. I mean, bloody hell, the amount of hip-hop in the station just last week, I nearly vomit blood.

In case you didn't noticed, I don't like hip-hop.

Now, there's more oldies, more chill-out music, and most importantly, more local music. Not just Parking Lot Freakin' Pimp.

As for the the DJs, they're all in different slots now. In fact, for a while, the Perfect 10 website showed the new schedule in the About Us. But then they decided they wanted to surprise us and replaced it with the old schedule. Fishy.

Lucky that I have a good memory.

Now if you want to be surprised, DON'T LOOK!

I'll tell you when it's time to look in bold.













Monday to Thursday
6-10am: Vernon A and Justin Ang
10am-2pm: Jamie Yeo
2pm-5pm: Carrie Chong
5pm-8pm: Daniel Ong
8pm-11pm: Grace Chua
11pm-2am: Shan Wee (from Eye on a Guy 2)

Friday
About the same, except
8pm-9pm: 987 Top 10 (not 20, 10) with Jamie Yeo

Saturday
Can't remember the times, but they're in the afternoon
987 Home
987 Reloaded
US Top 20

Sunday
Ditto
The Edge
987 Top 10 repeat
Don & Drew Show










You can look now.

So, in essence, you take 987's most popular DJ (Jamie), and dump her in the 10am-2pm slot, when her most ardent fans, the students, will be in school and no where near a radio. What in the heck is the logic in that?

Me on the other hand has the time to listen in on her new shift. Heck, I even called in to wish her well. And actually got through which is a first. Don't think she remembered me. Ah well. She did sound a little less cheery than usual. But give her time. Give the station time. If you don't like the changes now, you will soon, if you really love 98.7FM.

And yeah, Jamie said the station doesn't use the name Perfect 10 anymore. I don't get that either, but again, oh well.

Which Blogger am I?

Which Singaporean Blogger are you?

Congratulations Hafiz, you are...

Photo temporarily removed because it's wreaking havoc on my blog

'Xia Xue' Wendy Cheng of xiaxue.blogspot.com

You are a goddess/god. You've got the looks, the brains and the body. You have such an irreverent sense of humour, people listen to you religiously and worship the ground you walk on. On the other hand you can also be straightforward, blunt and very very controversial. That has the potential to offend many people, but of course you don't care, you just shoot. In the end, people either love you or hate you. Nothing in between.

Which Singaporean Blogger Are You?

So how come my face never appear at Channel News Asia, hmmmmm?

Which Malaysian Blogger are you?

Congratulations Hafiz, you are...

Joyce the Fairy of xanga.com/kinkybluefairy

If you are a car, your fuel of choice would be unleaded alcohol. You are a major party animal with an unnatural obsession with art, toys and all things fantasy. You think the world is too complicated and you wished it could be as simple as it was when you were 7 years old. You live with it. You work hard, but you don't take for granted the simple things in life that make you happy. Sweet candy, cartoon music, crazy friends, all these and more make you a happy person living in your own little world.

Which Malaysian Blogger Are You?

Well, slap me silly. That's more or less right. Of course, I'm no party animal. No chance to be one. Yet. Mwahahaha.

Earworm of the moment

Definition of Earworm

Don't Cha by The Pussycat Dolls

This is mad! I don't even have a girlfriend so that I can wish I had she was hot and a freak like those girls. So why won't this song leave my head?!

Nice point...

From Sarong Party Girl's blog:

"Singapore conservative? Bullshit.

You know Singapore isn’t a conservative society. Conservative societies are driven by religion, Singapore, is driven by money. If you can’t comprehend that, let me put this horrid, hard fact to you this way: We are a capitalistic society."

Poor girl. Hounded by the world and his dog and its fleas because of that photo. Ah well, she wants us to shut up, so I at least will shut up. But really, I do hope she puts up at least some more photos of herself. Not to satisfy my out-of-control hormones (I'll get to that some day), but to stay true to herself and prove she doesn't give a crap what other people think. They don't even have to be nude pictures. But I'm not going to start telling her what she should or should not do with her blog so on this issue, my thoughts end here.

So what am I going to talk about today?

Hmmmmmm................

Uh................

Erm..................







I got nuthin'.

Sorry folks. No MeeSoto Musings today.

Who says Singaporean women are shy?

Hmmmph

Truth be told, I'm surprised something like this hasn't happened earlier. All that talk we've been hearing about free speech on the internet? This is one damn good example. Like it or hate it.

What do I think?

As a cultural expert on nude shots: The photographer uses both the shadowing effect and the black & white effect to excellent use to show the true beauty of the female body, every curve accentuating the sexuality of the subject.

As a horny teenage boy: WAH!!! SHIOK AAAAHHH!!!! Nipples are a little bit too big for my taste though.

Holy two part post, Batman!

D-Day: 24th June 2005

We have a special blog post today! A two-parter!

Part 1

You all know life has its 'What If...' moments right? Right now, I have three of 'em. In my ongoing attempt to be more open I'm going to let you guys in on 'em. 2 of those 'What Ifs', some of you may have heard, maybe a little too many times. One, I've kept to myself all these years.

What If No. 1: ...I had asked Shikin out a little earlier?
This, of course, I have mentioned so many times, I think people are getting sick about it. But what can I say? In the 19 years and 4 months I've been on this planet, no other female has inspired in me such feelings of love and joy and sorrow that I nearly burst into from the inside. And that's only when I simply look at her! Another thing I rue is the fact that I didn't talk to her nearly enough. I've forgotten what she sounded like.

Nevertheless, I had to get over her. I had to. Obsessing about her even as she was dating another boy was not healthy. So right now, as of this moment, I am glad to say, I have FINALLY gotten over her. Time really is a great healer, huh? I figured, Life goes on. At least she's happy, many fishes in the sea, bla bla bla. But you want to know what really made me get over her?

This. She looks good, no doubts there. But instead of being the girl I know and almost loved I remembered back in YISS, in those pictures, she now reminds me of 'GASP' my sister.

You can't imagine how much of a turn-off that is.

So, if I ever see Shikin again (maybe this Hari Raya), I don't expect to freeze and babble and come close to fainting like I once did. Instead, I will smile, greet her, and treat her just like my sister. Ok, a little nicer than that.

What If no. 2: ...I had auditioned for Merchant of Venice?
Again, this is something I have mentioned time and again. For the record, I didn't audition because I had to register for my IC. You could say I should have gone earlier. And you'd be right. But I had no idea where to go then, so my dad had to bring me there. Thing is, he was only free at the very last day of registering. The very same day of the auditions. So here's my choice, Register and don't audition, I won't get a part in the play. Vice versa, I get hit with a fine. Easy choice right?

No such problems for my sis, who auditioned and got a role as an extra, which I wouldn't have minded. Really, I would have played a dead body just to get on that stage.

Anyhow, thanks to my IT club, I did get to film the play using a digital camera. One perk of that: a backstage pass. Better than nothing I suppose. Only used it once, to get a Coke from the vending machine. Yep, excellent perks.

So to round off this particular 'What If', three things about the lady who played 'Portia' in Merchant of Venice.

1) I never knew she existed before the play.
2) The first we met face to face, I had to pay the fine for an overdue library book. I didn't have the money, so she, who was standing next to me, paid it for me. As of now, I still owe her 10 cents. BTW, that book? William Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice.
3) She's the only girl other than Shikin I've asked out. Well, what can I say? She is hot in her own special way. Too bad, like Shikin, I was a few months too late.

I have GOT to work on my timing.

I'll leave the 3rd What If for another time, shall I? Yes, I think I shall.

Part 2

A short Part really. It's about the Caped Crusader, the Dark Knight, the Scourge of Gotham's Criminals, the master of countless martial arts, the wearer of a funny-looking costume and the holder of a criminally high amount of cash.

Honestly, if I have to say his name, you really should watch more TV. It's not as bad as they say it is, you know!

Back in 2002, someone said that the reason Spider-Man beat Star Wars Episode II was because the public prefers superheroes over sci-fi.

Well, here's a chance to test that theory again.

Ah, but Batman Begins isn't like Spider-Man. It's dark and serious and broody and depressing and scary as fcuk.

Bahriah, I think you're going to LOVE this movie.

Just like I went and watched Episode III because it ws Star Wars, I'm going to watch Batman Begins for a similar reason. It's Batman. Plain and simple.

Batman as it should have been.

One more thing before I go: I've cut my hair and shave my moustache. And now, at that risk of sounding conceited, I say this: DAMN! I look GOOD!

Episode III: The Overdue Review

I suppose since it's been 2 weeks since I've watched EpIII, I might as well write the review that I promised. But since I'm still too lazy to write a long ass composition, I'll write a summary.

Let's split the movie in 3 parts: The first 20 minutes, the nezt 40 or so minutes, and the final hour.

First 20 minutes: Now how can you not geek out at possibly the 2nd greatest space battle of all time? (First being Return of the Jedi) If the battle doesn't get your blood pumping, you must be General Grievous's long lost kid (Grievous by the way is a disappointment, nowhere near Darth Maul in the cool ratings). R2-D2 practically steals the show here, being the kick-ass robot we know he is.

Next 40 or so minutes: The weak link of the movie. Anakin and Padme's scenes, while an improvement, are still a bore. In fact, this whole stretch of the film is very talky, it bogs down the movie. With the exception of Palpatine. He is the star of the movie.

Final hour: This is the part I really wanted to see. Obi-Wan fighting Grievous. Palpatine mind-f*&king Anakin. Mace's final scene. The last 2 fights are the highlights. Yoda vs Palpatine pits the most powerful Jedi with the most powerful Sith. And it sizzles like steak. (That means it rocks) (Note about Yoda: In the cinema I watched it in, there were these 2 girls who kept saying about Yoda: SO CUUUTE!!!! I mean, ok, he is a little, but come on!) Anakin vs Obi-Wan, well it was a bit of a let-down. The fight itself I mean. The atmosphere, the repartee are just awesome. And the end of the fight, I admit, I nearly cried. Nearly, mind you. Which leads to my favourite scene, Darth Vader reborn. I tell you, I nearly pissed my pants hearing the first Vader breath and seeing Vader stand up. The 'NOOOOOOO!'? Well, ok, maybe it should be replaced by a mournful cry. 'AAARRRRRRGH!'

Well, that looks like a rush job doesn't it? Told you I'm lazy. Well, that's my review and I'm sticking to it. Rating: $9.00 out of a maximum $9.50

Ding Ding a Bing a Ding

The Most Annoying Thing In The World

I love music. It can please you, depress you, make you laugh, make you hurl. And right now, in the UK, a ringtone is making everyone lose their lunch.

See, this ringtone is the very first one ever to make it to Number 1 in the UK charts. Now everyone's calling it the Death of Music as we know it. Which is complete rubbish. I mean, if pop music can survive the era of the Boybands in the late 90s, it can survive anything. Anyway, the song in question is Crazy Frog's Axel F, combining the Crazy Frog ringtone (which is basically a guy trying to mimic the sound a scooter makes) and the theme from the movie Beverly Hills Cop.

I have a soft spot for cheesy techno music. Blame it on all the times I've heard those techno songs from the carnivals and pasar malams when I was a kid. Clicking on that link above will lead you to the video of Crazy Frog's Axel F, and you will realize that that song is one of the absolute best examples of "cheesy techno music" ever.

Me? Heck, I like it. I might even buy the ringtone, just to piss those music purists off.

Because I feel a little insane, here are the lyrics:
Beh-ding ding ding ding dididing ding bing bing pscht,
Dorhrm bom bom bedom bem bom bedom bom bum ba ba bom bom,
Bouuuuum bom bom bedahm, Bom be barbedarm bedabedabedabeda
Bbrrrrrimm bbrrrrramm bbbrrrrrrrrraammmmm ddddddraammm,
Bah bah baah baah ba wheeeeeee-eeeee-eeeee!

Not a good weekend...

Now, as you may know, I'm a Star Wars fan. And as any Star Wars fan know, the absolute best time to watch Star Wars (or any movie for that matter) is the very first screening. If it means a midnight screening, all the better. There's something about watching a blockbuster movie at the middle of the night, y'know?

Normally, my parents would of course immediately and absolutely forbid me to watch a midnight screening. But last Wednesday, a mere 3 hours before screening, I was hopeful my dad would let me go. After all, we were in Genting at the time, and my dad did look interested in the cinema.

-Quick note on the place with the cinema, the lobby of the First World Hotel. It is without a doubt one of the best reasons to have an IR in Singapore. It was a freakin' theme park, for Yoda's sake! Kicks Escape's butt anyday.

Back to my dad. He did look interested, but ultimately, he didn't go for it. I knew he was worried about the crowd, so I told him to look around. It was a weekday and not a holiday, so there weren't too many peeps around. But then he told me that we were too far from our hotel, and if I wanted to watch the movie, I would have to make my own way back to the hotel myself. Yeah, down the long road down a mountain. That wasn't fair, and I told him so, but by that time, he went on buying useless stuff like clothes.

-Not that I hate clothes. They're necessary. But just as some people don't understand Star Wars, I don't understand fashion, so there you go.

I wasn't too sad though. There was still the Sunday when we all would get back. The family were all set to leave Kuala Lumpur (a damn great city) at around 6.30pm, when my mom saw the words Times Square on a building. 5 minutes later, we were in the lobby.

That pissed me. Now I know we would get home late and possibly ruin my chance of watching the movie on the first weekend. A good thing Berjaya Times Square was I think the best leisure centre in South East Asia or I would have blown a fuse right there and then.

-Berjaya Times Square: Half shopping centre, half indoor theme park. Tagline: All in one place. Never a truer tagline. There has to, and I do mean HAS TO, be a place like this in the New Downtown they're making in Marina.

So eventually, we did get home. At around 3AM. I was still hopeful of going, but my parents put paid to that thought. Mom said "No need lah!" and Dad said "Surely cinema full, wait till next week". So here I am, possibly the only Star Wars fan not to have watched Star Wars Episode III as yet. I mean sure, I didn't watch Episode II in the cinemas. But that was because I knew it wouldn't be interesting, being the middle of the trilogy and all. (I watched Spider-Man instead.) But still, this is Episode III, the one with Darth Vader! I'm going to watch this movie, even if it kills me! Or turn me into a Sith, whatever.

-Oh, and to complete my bad weekend, I got a fever coming back home, my room TV is acting weird again, turning off and on and not making me able to use the controls, and to top it off, my computer monitor has blown its bulbs. At first, after I turn the monitor on, it would blink, and turn back off. Now, it's completely dead. Now I have to use the Ngee Ann computers, so blog posts from me and my sisiter will be minimal now. Not a good weekend at all.

Good thing I had an OK trip to KL though, or I would be REALLY depressed.

The Dream Master

-I watched Episode III yesterday. Basically, it boils down to this. It was a disapointment. The movie was too short, the lightsabre battles were a joke and the special effects were not so special. Jeez. It's enough to make this fan lose hope.

Thankfully, the movie I saw was all in my dream. I can't tell you how happy I was when I woke up. I mean, seriously, I really thought it was happening. I've realised I only get those realistic dreams mostly when I'm not feeling too well.

-To those wanting to avoid spoilers for the movie, I suggest you stay away from Toys R Us. The packaging to the Star Wars toys might have some spoilers on them.

The Darth Side compels you.....

You know, I thought it'd be interesting if I could write only about Star Wars for the next two weeks until the 19th (ROTS TIME BABY, YEAH!). So here I go.

Short post today to advertise one of the funniest blogs out there: The Darth Side. The posts are funny, but the really funny stuff is in the comments. Real ROFL stuff here.

Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith clip

13 days, 13 days, we've got 13 days.....

Till then, here's a short clip from the Anakin vs Obi-Wan fight.

http://rapidshare.de/files/1543996/trl_clip2.mpg.html

The story nobody's asking for...

...but I'm going to blog about it anyway. It actually happened 2 weeks ago, but the reason why I'm blogging about it now is because, well, I'm lazy. You can't say I'm not honest. You can say that this story shouldn't be so long, but I miss essay writing in school. (I know, unbelievable, huh?). I just have to write a story. It's not a masterpiece like the stuff I used to make (Adik: Aksyen!), but it's something. It's a long post, so please bear with me.

A few weeks ago, I got an invitation to join a birthday party, to celebrate (what else?) a birthday. It doesn't really matter that I've never even actually met the birthday girl before then, but hey, a party's a party. Besides, I'm glad for any opportunity to get out of the house. The party happened on the 16th of April, a Saturday, a special Saturday, one which both my parents will be home. So what would you have picked - a fun birthday party, or sitting at home, getting nagged at by my folks to clean the dishes?

So of course, I got ready, and wore the nicest shirt I have in my closet that wasn't smelling of stale sweat and mothballs. I tried to comb my hair. The keyword is 'try', since I was trying to go for the Beatles look, you know, Paul McCartney. Now instead I got a Harry Potter look. Except Harry is actually cute. And has round glasses. So anyway, the birthday girl was someone I've wanted to meet for a long time. So I tried the best I can to make myself presentable. As presentable as a guy with wild hair, bad faint moustache and a face crying out for Neutrogena can be.

The venue: Swensen's Jurong Point. On the way there, in the bus 66 I saw my dear friend Faryn at the bus stop, looking as Aunty as ever. (I'm sorry, but to me, it takes a very special woman to wear a tudung and not look like an Aunty). She didn't see me, so I phoned her and chatted with each other for a while.

-Summary of our conversation
Faryn: Bla bla bla bla bla bla de dah dah bla bla bla
TheFiz: Mmhm, mhmm, oh really?, that's nice

Basically, I told her I was going to a birthday party, she was mad she wasn't invited and demanded who the birthday girl is. I didn't tell her because 1) she doesn't know her and B) she won't believe me if I do tell her who she is.

Skipping ahead to Jurong Point, which is "The Place to Be" after opening that new wing a few years ago. I was way too early, so I made my way to the library, and I must say, I found this great book of poems which is just a joy to read. I'd like to take this time to read a passage from the book entitled (CENSORED FOR EXTREMELY BORING SUBJECT).

Anyway, once it was time, I made my way back to Swensen's. BTW, the birthday girl has her own website, and so I have to meet the actual organisers of the party, the website's moderators, Alex and Sammie. Nice people they were. They took me up to Swensen's (pretty spiffy place it was) where the other invited guests were waiting. About 30 of them. That's half the restaurant space taken. Not bad at all.

Anyway, it was some group that gathered. The youngest was 10 years old, the oldest was 28. Different shapes and sizes but we all had a common goal: to meet the birthday girl. Who was late. As usual, so said Faisal, another moderator who I chatted with on the Net from time to time. So I just sat there, drinking the free water, introducing myself to the groupas meesotofreak, my nick at that website.

Finally, exactly one hour after I arrived, the birthday girl arrived. All heads turned to her. Not just our group, but the entire restaurant. Not surprising, considering how pretty she was. She proceeded to introduce herself to everyone, and everyone in turn gave her presents. Lots of presents. Really, it's surprising a petite woman like her can carry all those presents. So, with the birthday girl finally at Swensen's, we can order some food. Not being especially hungry, I ordered a Chocolate Ice Cream Malt. Let me give you a piece of advice: if you are NOT looking for a massive sugar buzz, do NOT order the Chocolate Ice Cream Malt. I'm just sayin'.

Truth be told, it wasn't much of a party. Sure the birthday girl went around trying to talk to everyone (not me though, unfortunately). But otherwise, she sat with the moderators. So I just sat there, eating my ice cream, getting the biggest sugar buzz of my life.

Of course, the birthday girl soon had to leave because of a prior engagement. But she said we can all watch her do the said prior engagement. So of course we went to the stage where she was doing her engagement. It all went well. I even enjoyed the manicure competition.

BTW, throughout the show, there was this irritating jingle about Jurong Point that kept playing. No wait, irritating is not the word. Terrible. Awful. Loathsome. I can't think of any other word. So of course when it was time for the jingle singing contest, one of the the emcee picked me to joined the contest. I tried to decline politely, but the other emcee actually came up and dragged me to the stage. The other emcee incidentally being the birthday girl. I said "I can't sing", which was a lie, I can sing a little, but still no one listened. And the gang (those who stayed back) were cheering me on, so I thought "What the heck?". If I'm going to sing a jingle on stage, in front of hundreds of shoppers, I might as well give 'em a show. So I sang my guts out, trying not to puke from the awfulness of the song. Heck, I think I even sang it better than the original jingle singer (Vernon A, I think). OK, maybe not, but a guy has the right to delude himself right?

Wow, this post is long, isn't it?

As it turned out, the other contestant singers couldn't match my showmanship. Maybe they were nervous. And here's the thing. For some reason, the minute I was on that stage and looked at the audience, my nervousness vanished. I have no idea why. It was actually replaced by enthusiasm. Maybe my Singapore Idol experience helped. Speaking of which, the people was asked to vote by applauding. I'm amazed my head didn't expand to the size of Russia, the applause, while not on the level of Taufik, was loud. Very loud. Even a few whistles here and there. So thus, I won the competition. And all I had to do was sing a crappy jingle. Which you can hear at Perfect 10 if you're lucky. The gang had the cheek to call for an encore, so of course I had to sing again. Alas, it wasn't as good. But hey, least I won a Perfect 10 folder, a landyard, a car sticker and vouchers worth $40 bucks. Which my sis promised to give me.

I went to the gang, got my congratulations and ran for the loo. Funny how I realised I had a full bladder only after my Grammy-winning performance eh?

We waited for the show to end so that we can see the birthday girl to her car. What can we say? We liked her. Enough to send her to her car. Besides, we wanted to see exactly what car it was. On the way to the carpark, people kept staring at us. Ok, ok, not us. Her. Can't help it, she is a famous personality. We stopped outside the carpark because the birthday girl didn't want us to come in. So we had one quick photo taking session. One auntie even came and asked for a photo on her mobile for her son. And yes, I got to get my picture taken with the birthday girl, who I just realised I haven't named yet. Well, I don't have to say it, the name's in the link to the photo below.

http://www.jamie-yeo.com/forums/album_comment.php?pic_id=2142

I've wanted to take a photo with her for the longest time. Well now I've done it. That is cool. Too bad I look as blur and weird as usual.

Then we finally let Jamie go (after one last Birthday song), and waited around to say Bye Bye as she drove by. Which she did. In a Mini Cooper, believe it or not. I even got her car number. Too bad I've forgotten it.

Then we all said our goodbyes and split up. Nice day for me I'd say.

Then of course, as I got home and tried to sleep, the folks dragged me up and the whole family went to East Coast for some reason. I don't mind though. I did get to climb a tree for the first time.

Hmmm, I guess that's it then. Story's over. Darn, it's not as good as I hoped it would be. I must be getting rusty. Ah well, I'll work on it. In a nutshell, on the 16th of April, I got to go out and celebrate my 2nd favourite DJ's birthday. Not as exciting as the BBQ last year which I missed, but it's something.

-Last note: I love this template! It's so simple and yet so brilliant in ways I don't know how to say.