Mood - complete utter boredom, flipping through iTunes finding that one song to make my day and finding nothing, nothing to blog, nothing to chat about, nothing to watch, nothing to interest me, nothing to make me sleepy, nothing to piss me off (or on), nothing to make me feel anything, nothing, nothing, nothing!
doodle doodle doodle dee then. Ennui makes me do.....weird stuff.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Ready for a post full of metaphors that makes me look smart when in truth it just makes me look silly? Ok? Here we go...
Take a chocolate chip cookie. Nice, isn't it? The fried golden brown dough and the dark brown chocolate chips combining as if to say, "Screw the calories, eat me!"
Now imagine the cookie without the chips. It's just an ordinary cookie, isn't it? Now how would you think it tastes like? If it's cooked properly, it's still marvelous. But mostly, it's just plain. Close to tasteless. Boring. Ah, but it's healthy for you.
A good, wholesome, boring Life.
Now imagine the chocolate chips, by themselves. Full of sweet delight. Once you pop one in, you need another. And another. And another. It tastes so damn good now, but later, it'll catch up with you. Few zits, extra kilos, the works. And you know what? It tastes great, but leaves you feeling that there's something missing.
A Life full of tasty moments, some bad for you.
What am I trying to get here? My point is, my life has been a plain piece of cookie, with only one or two chips here and there. It's a good, wholesome life. It's also an empty life. One, I'm sorry to say, that I'm sick to death of. My parents mean well, but their efforts to raise a good boy and complete reluctance to to acknowledge my real age instead of the age they think I am has resulted in me being frustrated, angry, bitter and full of headaches.
Yep. Now with my regular allowance, I suppose it's finally time for me to go against my parents and assert a little independence for myself. Should be fun.
I don't want a cookie so full of chips, it may as well be a whole chocolate bar. I believe people whose lives are like that are currently sitting in Changi Prison right now. No, I'm just going to add a few chips to my cookie, a bit at a time, avoiding the ones that look rotten, until I finally get the right mix. A healthy cookie, filled with enough chips to make things interesting.
Well, I'm hungry. Chipsmore, anyone?
Take a chocolate chip cookie. Nice, isn't it? The fried golden brown dough and the dark brown chocolate chips combining as if to say, "Screw the calories, eat me!"
Now imagine the cookie without the chips. It's just an ordinary cookie, isn't it? Now how would you think it tastes like? If it's cooked properly, it's still marvelous. But mostly, it's just plain. Close to tasteless. Boring. Ah, but it's healthy for you.
A good, wholesome, boring Life.
Now imagine the chocolate chips, by themselves. Full of sweet delight. Once you pop one in, you need another. And another. And another. It tastes so damn good now, but later, it'll catch up with you. Few zits, extra kilos, the works. And you know what? It tastes great, but leaves you feeling that there's something missing.
A Life full of tasty moments, some bad for you.
What am I trying to get here? My point is, my life has been a plain piece of cookie, with only one or two chips here and there. It's a good, wholesome life. It's also an empty life. One, I'm sorry to say, that I'm sick to death of. My parents mean well, but their efforts to raise a good boy and complete reluctance to to acknowledge my real age instead of the age they think I am has resulted in me being frustrated, angry, bitter and full of headaches.
Yep. Now with my regular allowance, I suppose it's finally time for me to go against my parents and assert a little independence for myself. Should be fun.
I don't want a cookie so full of chips, it may as well be a whole chocolate bar. I believe people whose lives are like that are currently sitting in Changi Prison right now. No, I'm just going to add a few chips to my cookie, a bit at a time, avoiding the ones that look rotten, until I finally get the right mix. A healthy cookie, filled with enough chips to make things interesting.
Well, I'm hungry. Chipsmore, anyone?
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
The boy was just sitting there, minding his own business. It's part of his life really. Because of his schizophrenia, he's done all sort of horrible things because of "those voices". Or at least he knows this, because he was told he did all sorts of horrible things, because all the medications have left him without any memory of his past.
His was a tragic history, so you may say the amnesia is a blessing.
The boy was just sitting there, alone, in the middle of the SCDF's Basic Rescue Training Center. He's gotten used to the looks he's getting from the other recruits. They were wondering why he had carved the word "HELP" on his arm, among other things. Maybe he does too, or maybe he doesn't want to know. The recruits, most of them anyway, were giving him a respectful distance. Schizophrenia may be beyond some of their minds, but they know enough to know that the slightest aggravation might set the monster in the boy's head off.
But, always, in a large gathering group of boys, there will invariably be those few, that gang, who has the utterly useless talent of not knowing when to shut up.
They get interested in the boy.
They ask questions. He answers.
They ask more questions. He answers.
They ask even more questions, which really is the same question, framed in a different way.
He grows tired of them and stops answering.
They call him arrogant. He ignores them.
They call him names. He continues ignoring them.
One of them shows him the middle finger. He ignores it.
But the monster doesn't.
Two minutes later, the inciters of the monster were being held back by the rest of the recruits, shouting all manner of French words, while the boy was lying down, suffering a fit, getting attended by the Sergeant who arrived just in time to prevent a potentially bad confrontation.
The boy, with his life a sad blank in his mind, convulsing, while the gang kept chanting, "Bedek! Bedek!" (Fake! Fake!)
The parade square was full of recruits either gathering around the boy or the gang. A few were on the stands, standing, trying to make out what's going on.
MSF just sat there, knowing that the medics will take good care of the boy, and finally realising that the girls were right after all.
There are too many idiots with dicks in the world.
The order was given to fall in. So they did.
Among the many trying to look back at the fallen figure, a few, MSF included, looked straight to the front.
So that the boy would have a few less stares.
His was a tragic history, so you may say the amnesia is a blessing.
The boy was just sitting there, alone, in the middle of the SCDF's Basic Rescue Training Center. He's gotten used to the looks he's getting from the other recruits. They were wondering why he had carved the word "HELP" on his arm, among other things. Maybe he does too, or maybe he doesn't want to know. The recruits, most of them anyway, were giving him a respectful distance. Schizophrenia may be beyond some of their minds, but they know enough to know that the slightest aggravation might set the monster in the boy's head off.
But, always, in a large gathering group of boys, there will invariably be those few, that gang, who has the utterly useless talent of not knowing when to shut up.
They get interested in the boy.
They ask questions. He answers.
They ask more questions. He answers.
They ask even more questions, which really is the same question, framed in a different way.
He grows tired of them and stops answering.
They call him arrogant. He ignores them.
They call him names. He continues ignoring them.
One of them shows him the middle finger. He ignores it.
But the monster doesn't.
Two minutes later, the inciters of the monster were being held back by the rest of the recruits, shouting all manner of French words, while the boy was lying down, suffering a fit, getting attended by the Sergeant who arrived just in time to prevent a potentially bad confrontation.
The boy, with his life a sad blank in his mind, convulsing, while the gang kept chanting, "Bedek! Bedek!" (Fake! Fake!)
The parade square was full of recruits either gathering around the boy or the gang. A few were on the stands, standing, trying to make out what's going on.
MSF just sat there, knowing that the medics will take good care of the boy, and finally realising that the girls were right after all.
There are too many idiots with dicks in the world.
The order was given to fall in. So they did.
Among the many trying to look back at the fallen figure, a few, MSF included, looked straight to the front.
So that the boy would have a few less stares.
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Computer OK
Well, Blogspot, how did you find that post I made two hours earlier? Was it delicious? No? Hmmm, so it was probably a crappy post anyway then. Nah, no thanks, you can keep it.
Anyways, I'm a little too lazy to recreate that last post which dear old Blogspot chose as its night snack, so I'll just say what that post said in three sentences: My computer's fixed!
For only 20 bucks, I might add. Thanks to the CyberActive at West Mall (probably the smallest neighbourhood shopping centre you'll ever find in Singapore). I buy my games there. I still will, even if one of the shopkeepers look disturbingly like my Corporal. -shudder-
Anyways, I'm a little too lazy to recreate that last post which dear old Blogspot chose as its night snack, so I'll just say what that post said in three sentences: My computer's fixed!
For only 20 bucks, I might add. Thanks to the CyberActive at West Mall (probably the smallest neighbourhood shopping centre you'll ever find in Singapore). I buy my games there. I still will, even if one of the shopkeepers look disturbingly like my Corporal. -shudder-
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Sung to the tune of Gorillaz's Kids With Guns:
Got my pay
Got my pay
A spending spree
Is on the way
Will be broke
Before too long
Got my pay
Got my pay
Easy does it, easy does it, must save some to fix the com
Eating out (spend it all, spend it)
Mee Soto (spend it all, spend it)
Glass of coke (spend it all, spend it)
That's all I need (spend it all, spend it)
Kilos gained (spend it all, spend it)
But I don't care (spend it all, spend it)
Got my pay
Got my pay
Easy does it, easy does it, dad's already on my case
Cause with cash, I'll become a monster
Spending it all in one place
Orchard Road better watch out
I'm on my way
I'm on my way
HMV
All those CDs
Waiting to be
Consumed by me
Royalties
To Sir Thom Yorke
Cause I got my pay
Got my pay
Easy does it, easy does it, pocket's getting one big hole
Cause with cash, I'll become a monster
Spending it all in one place
Orchard Road better watch out
I'm on my way
I'm on my way
Spend it all, spend it, spend it
Spend it all, spend it, spend it
Spend it all, spend it, spend it
Spend it all, spend it, spend it
Spend it all, spend it, spend it
Spend it all
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Oh, and I shook Tracy Humphrey's hand today. You know, wife of that Weekend Today ang moh columnist.
Good times.
Got my pay
Got my pay
A spending spree
Is on the way
Will be broke
Before too long
Got my pay
Got my pay
Easy does it, easy does it, must save some to fix the com
Eating out (spend it all, spend it)
Mee Soto (spend it all, spend it)
Glass of coke (spend it all, spend it)
That's all I need (spend it all, spend it)
Kilos gained (spend it all, spend it)
But I don't care (spend it all, spend it)
Got my pay
Got my pay
Easy does it, easy does it, dad's already on my case
Cause with cash, I'll become a monster
Spending it all in one place
Orchard Road better watch out
I'm on my way
I'm on my way
HMV
All those CDs
Waiting to be
Consumed by me
Royalties
To Sir Thom Yorke
Cause I got my pay
Got my pay
Easy does it, easy does it, pocket's getting one big hole
Cause with cash, I'll become a monster
Spending it all in one place
Orchard Road better watch out
I'm on my way
I'm on my way
Spend it all, spend it, spend it
Spend it all, spend it, spend it
Spend it all, spend it, spend it
Spend it all, spend it, spend it
Spend it all, spend it, spend it
Spend it all
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Oh, and I shook Tracy Humphrey's hand today. You know, wife of that Weekend Today ang moh columnist.
Good times.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Would you believe?
The first 2 kg I've ever lost in ages?
Maybe there IS something to this Physical Training (PT) schtick.
Oh, and those rumours about the PT instructors being sadistic devils hidden in well-tanned bodies? All too true.
I've lost my voice too, from all the "1, PTI! 2, PTI! 3, PTI!"
But as long as I can look less like the Stay Puft monster from Ghostbusters, I'm happy.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ooh, ooh, can I say something about the Mats in your platoon?"
Sure thing, it's your blog as much as mine.
"Great! Ok, let's see. The first week, they were so unbeareable, weren't they? Buggin you and teasing you, just because you were a little different from them. Sure, you were a little girly. They're calling you 'Rosita' right?"
Let's move on.
"Hey, it's more original than 'Hafizah'"
I said, let's move ON!
"Alright! Geez! Ok, but then they got used to you, just like everyone got used to you in school back then right? Maybe it's because you toned down the weirdness and started becoming more of your quiet self, right?"
That's right. It worked pretty well, didn't it?
"Not as much as the Seargent making them do 30 push-ups and giving them 5 days Extra Guard Duty when he heard them make fun of your voice."
Ok, I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoyed that a little bit.
"Now, they won't mess with you anymore. Must be sweet to have a Seargent behind your back, eh?"
You do know he'll still give me push-ups if I mess up my foot drills some more, right?
"Pfft, who asked you to be so blur?"
Ok, you're fired.
"WHAT?!"
---------------------------------------------------------------
I don't know what's more worrying: the fact that in camp, I'm frequently miserable and about to lose it, or, that I'm beginning to enjoy being miserable and about to lose it.
---------------------------------------------------------------
One final note: Ready to relive your childhood, dear readers?
Then click here.
The first 2 kg I've ever lost in ages?
Maybe there IS something to this Physical Training (PT) schtick.
Oh, and those rumours about the PT instructors being sadistic devils hidden in well-tanned bodies? All too true.
I've lost my voice too, from all the "1, PTI! 2, PTI! 3, PTI!"
But as long as I can look less like the Stay Puft monster from Ghostbusters, I'm happy.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ooh, ooh, can I say something about the Mats in your platoon?"
Sure thing, it's your blog as much as mine.
"Great! Ok, let's see. The first week, they were so unbeareable, weren't they? Buggin you and teasing you, just because you were a little different from them. Sure, you were a little girly. They're calling you 'Rosita' right?"
Let's move on.
"Hey, it's more original than 'Hafizah'"
I said, let's move ON!
"Alright! Geez! Ok, but then they got used to you, just like everyone got used to you in school back then right? Maybe it's because you toned down the weirdness and started becoming more of your quiet self, right?"
That's right. It worked pretty well, didn't it?
"Not as much as the Seargent making them do 30 push-ups and giving them 5 days Extra Guard Duty when he heard them make fun of your voice."
Ok, I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoyed that a little bit.
"Now, they won't mess with you anymore. Must be sweet to have a Seargent behind your back, eh?"
You do know he'll still give me push-ups if I mess up my foot drills some more, right?
"Pfft, who asked you to be so blur?"
Ok, you're fired.
"WHAT?!"
---------------------------------------------------------------
I don't know what's more worrying: the fact that in camp, I'm frequently miserable and about to lose it, or, that I'm beginning to enjoy being miserable and about to lose it.
---------------------------------------------------------------
One final note: Ready to relive your childhood, dear readers?
Then click here.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Yup , I do get to go home every weekend. That's great. Now all I have to do is convince my parents to let me out every Saturday so that I can clear my head . And judging from this week in J.B. (Jalan Bahar), I really, REALLY, need it.
And, ok, I give in. I do need my handphone in camp. Still no chargers allowed, so I'm just gonna have to improvise. More of NS when I have more time (and a working computer).
I'm in the Cathay right now, where they have three computers with internet access which anyone can use, for only 15 minutes, which is why this post is rushed and not at all up to my standards of brilliance, or lameness, depending on your taste slash mood. Just watched Pirates of the Carribean 2. Nutshell review: Woo Hoo!
Ok, time's up. Off to Baybeats. Later!
And, ok, I give in. I do need my handphone in camp. Still no chargers allowed, so I'm just gonna have to improvise. More of NS when I have more time (and a working computer).
I'm in the Cathay right now, where they have three computers with internet access which anyone can use, for only 15 minutes, which is why this post is rushed and not at all up to my standards of brilliance, or lameness, depending on your taste slash mood. Just watched Pirates of the Carribean 2. Nutshell review: Woo Hoo!
Ok, time's up. Off to Baybeats. Later!
Monday, July 10, 2006
This is it.
Well, boys and girls, it's time for the requisite "Holy sh!t! I'm going to NS tomorrow" post.
But, well, I've debated on whether to do this post. I mean, I'm only going to Jalan Bahar to get my bum bum kicked by overzealous commanders and kiss-assy type recruit bullies. Note, Jalan Bahar, not New York . (I want to be a part of it, Jalan Bahaaaaaaar...)
I can't lie to you. I'm scared. Terrified. Not only about what will happen to me during Basic Training, but after that - Full-Time National Service. And after THAT, what would happen to me? (Some of you will know what I'm talking about.) It's all I can do to not lose it and just swim to Australia to escape it all. Ah, the perks of being Singaporean, eh? Serve 2 years looking after the country and after that, oh hi, here's a rope. Now start climbing out of your own grave.
I can do this. Of course I can. I'm The Fiz, damn it! I can do it if I put my mind to it. (Thanks, Marty McFly)
It may end up being the time of my life. I may learn something useful like how to climb a tree (dead useful trick to have), and maybe, just maybe, no bullies. Oh, heh, I'm sorry, I forgot, I'm The Fiz. I'm not that lucky. I suppose I'll have to bring along every single ounce of the sunny-side up character of myself. And steel to sew on my skin. Wait, I will learn how to sew, right?
I just remembered something about me and bullies: I usually let them have it their way. Not this year, buckos.
So, here's the biggest note to self: Suck up everything the SCDF throws at you! Because by gum, if you can swim through a ditch full of pee and rotting Chicken Rice, while being pelted with flour and yet more pee, all without batting a smelly eyelid, well then, you can just bloody well do anything! Rise up! Become The Fiz!
Why am I yelling so much?! Oh yeah, self-confidence riser mixed with self-delusion! Whatever works! Ok, stop it.
Remember, gentle readers, this isn't goodbye. If I hear correctly, I'll be home every weekend. Of course, I'll either be catching up on the Zs, or going out trying to get a life. But I'll try to update here once in a while, whenever the computer isn't on strike. If you're lucky (or not), maybe you'll catch me on MSN. My aim is this: I want to spend as little time as possible at home. Just enough to satisfy my parents.
Oh, and since I can't bring a phone charger, no point bringing a handphone, right? Where's the logic anyway, allowing phones yet not allowing chargers.................
Sooooo, I guess that's it. Rant over. Enough of the worrying and the depressions and the crying and the moping and the lazing and all the glayvin. Time for me to sit in my room, get my stuff ready, maybe punch my bolster a few times, then hug it's cottony guts out.
And hope for the best.
I'll see you when I see you.
But, well, I've debated on whether to do this post. I mean, I'm only going to Jalan Bahar to get my bum bum kicked by overzealous commanders and kiss-assy type recruit bullies. Note, Jalan Bahar, not New York . (I want to be a part of it, Jalan Bahaaaaaaar...)
I can't lie to you. I'm scared. Terrified. Not only about what will happen to me during Basic Training, but after that - Full-Time National Service. And after THAT, what would happen to me? (Some of you will know what I'm talking about.) It's all I can do to not lose it and just swim to Australia to escape it all. Ah, the perks of being Singaporean, eh? Serve 2 years looking after the country and after that, oh hi, here's a rope. Now start climbing out of your own grave.
I can do this. Of course I can. I'm The Fiz, damn it! I can do it if I put my mind to it. (Thanks, Marty McFly)
It may end up being the time of my life. I may learn something useful like how to climb a tree (dead useful trick to have), and maybe, just maybe, no bullies. Oh, heh, I'm sorry, I forgot, I'm The Fiz. I'm not that lucky. I suppose I'll have to bring along every single ounce of the sunny-side up character of myself. And steel to sew on my skin. Wait, I will learn how to sew, right?
I just remembered something about me and bullies: I usually let them have it their way. Not this year, buckos.
So, here's the biggest note to self: Suck up everything the SCDF throws at you! Because by gum, if you can swim through a ditch full of pee and rotting Chicken Rice, while being pelted with flour and yet more pee, all without batting a smelly eyelid, well then, you can just bloody well do anything! Rise up! Become The Fiz!
Why am I yelling so much?! Oh yeah, self-confidence riser mixed with self-delusion! Whatever works! Ok, stop it.
Remember, gentle readers, this isn't goodbye. If I hear correctly, I'll be home every weekend. Of course, I'll either be catching up on the Zs, or going out trying to get a life. But I'll try to update here once in a while, whenever the computer isn't on strike. If you're lucky (or not), maybe you'll catch me on MSN. My aim is this: I want to spend as little time as possible at home. Just enough to satisfy my parents.
Oh, and since I can't bring a phone charger, no point bringing a handphone, right? Where's the logic anyway, allowing phones yet not allowing chargers.................
Sooooo, I guess that's it. Rant over. Enough of the worrying and the depressions and the crying and the moping and the lazing and all the glayvin. Time for me to sit in my room, get my stuff ready, maybe punch my bolster a few times, then hug it's cottony guts out.
And hope for the best.
I'll see you when I see you.
That. Was. Incredible.
I just watched the 3rd/4th Playoff match repeat. And I enjoyed every minute of, well, the 2nd half anyway. The 1st hakf was a snore. But when the German guy scored that goal, followed by the Portugeuse own goal, followed by a great goal by the same German guy, followed by that consolation Portugal goal.......
Man, it was sweet. All credit to Portugal (except too-cute-for-his-own-good Cristiano Ronaldo) but Germany deserved to be 3rd!
Oh, and apparently Italy won something. Ho-hum.
I just watched the 3rd/4th Playoff match repeat. And I enjoyed every minute of, well, the 2nd half anyway. The 1st hakf was a snore. But when the German guy scored that goal, followed by the Portugeuse own goal, followed by a great goal by the same German guy, followed by that consolation Portugal goal.......
Man, it was sweet. All credit to Portugal (except too-cute-for-his-own-good Cristiano Ronaldo) but Germany deserved to be 3rd!
Oh, and apparently Italy won something. Ho-hum.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Friday, July 07, 2006
Let's blog while we still can, shall we?
I'm in a bloody fantastic mood. I don't know why, I don't care why, I just don't want it to bloody end and last for 2 years! Give or take a few AWOL moment or two.
I like saying 'bloody' when I'm in a good mood. Feels bloody good.
Kenny Loggins is on. 'Scuse me while I take his advice and cut loose (footloose).
I'm in a bloody fantastic mood. I don't know why, I don't care why, I just don't want it to bloody end and last for 2 years! Give or take a few AWOL moment or two.
I like saying 'bloody' when I'm in a good mood. Feels bloody good.
Kenny Loggins is on. 'Scuse me while I take his advice and cut loose (footloose).
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Here's how I figure out who to support in the finals -
Me with French accent: I sound like Inspec-tair Clue-sew TRYING to sound French.
Me with Italian accent: Imagine Count Dracula saying "It's a-me! Mario!"
So, my choice is....Italy, because it's easier, and coming from me, funnier to do an Italian accent.
So go Italy! Bring-a back-a the World Cup-a to Roma!
Me with French accent: I sound like Inspec-tair Clue-sew TRYING to sound French.
Me with Italian accent: Imagine Count Dracula saying "It's a-me! Mario!"
So, my choice is....Italy, because it's easier, and coming from me, funnier to do an Italian accent.
So go Italy! Bring-a back-a the World Cup-a to Roma!
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Message from the home computer
Hey, you! You who call yourself "Duh" Fiz. Yeah, I'm talking to you! All those times you download all that junk inside me, all those times you used me for hours on end even though I'm begging for a rest (didn't ya hear my fan whirring like a dervish? Didn't ya?!), all those times you shut me off by turning the power switch off illegally? Well, I can't take it anymore! So guess what? I'm pulling the plug! From now on, you can't use me anymore! You'll keep getting "Hard Drive Failure" messages till the cows come home, and there ain't a damn thing you can do about it, except to ask your dear father (oh, don't think I didn't hear you say those things about him!) to call someone up and fix me! HAH! Let's see you live without me now!
Swearing and kicking me won't help much, you know. :D
Swearing and kicking me won't help much, you know. :D
Saturday, July 01, 2006
It finally happened...
In fact, 2 things happened last week that I knew was just a matter of time.
First, I grew up listening 987 since 1996, when the music was pure Pop goodness, no Hip Hop/R&B/Simple Plan crap. The DJs were awesome: Howie in the afternoons, Christopher Goh in Jive Drive, Jean Danker on Say It With Music and Glenn Ong on The Ego Trip late night show.
The goodness lasted till 2000. Then, the lineup was shaken up, Glenn moved to the mornings, thereby neutering him for an older audience. And the songs got progressively worse.
I grew up from simple bubblegum pop, sure, so I was ready for some adult pop fare, whatever that may be, and I hoped the Perfect 10 would fill that space.
They played Eminem instead.
Long story short, after one too many mediocre, bad, Simple Plan-esque song, I snapped and turned the dial slightly to the right.
"Relax. Lush. 99.5"
And it's been there ever since mid-June. I try returning a few times, but couldn't make 30 seconds before changing it back.
I've finally out-growned 987fm. It was inevitable. Still, I'll peek at MTV once in awhile just to keep up with the mainstream stuff.
And besides, now that I come to think about it, today's DJs in 987? Well.....they bug me.
Except, of course, Jamie Yeo.
Which leads me to the 2nd thing: Jamie is a very, very ambitious lady. She works hard, and she wants to go places. I've seen enough people like her to know that she would not want to stay in radio for long. Heck, maybe not even in MediaCorp anymore.
Last Monday, she proved me right, on both counts, and thus sealing 987's fate for me.
Jamie Yeo is gone from 987, leaving just Emily and Don & Drew to be the only reasons to listen to 987. But Emily's only a part-timer and D&D, I can just download their podcast.
Kudos Jamie for taking that brave step in leaving MediaCorp and joining, believe it or not, ESPN Star Sports. Hey, it's about time another female presenter joined Collette Wong there. Can't wait to see her there.
First, I grew up listening 987 since 1996, when the music was pure Pop goodness, no Hip Hop/R&B/Simple Plan crap. The DJs were awesome: Howie in the afternoons, Christopher Goh in Jive Drive, Jean Danker on Say It With Music and Glenn Ong on The Ego Trip late night show.
The goodness lasted till 2000. Then, the lineup was shaken up, Glenn moved to the mornings, thereby neutering him for an older audience. And the songs got progressively worse.
I grew up from simple bubblegum pop, sure, so I was ready for some adult pop fare, whatever that may be, and I hoped the Perfect 10 would fill that space.
They played Eminem instead.
Long story short, after one too many mediocre, bad, Simple Plan-esque song, I snapped and turned the dial slightly to the right.
"Relax. Lush. 99.5"
And it's been there ever since mid-June. I try returning a few times, but couldn't make 30 seconds before changing it back.
I've finally out-growned 987fm. It was inevitable. Still, I'll peek at MTV once in awhile just to keep up with the mainstream stuff.
And besides, now that I come to think about it, today's DJs in 987? Well.....they bug me.
Except, of course, Jamie Yeo.
Which leads me to the 2nd thing: Jamie is a very, very ambitious lady. She works hard, and she wants to go places. I've seen enough people like her to know that she would not want to stay in radio for long. Heck, maybe not even in MediaCorp anymore.
Last Monday, she proved me right, on both counts, and thus sealing 987's fate for me.
Jamie Yeo is gone from 987, leaving just Emily and Don & Drew to be the only reasons to listen to 987. But Emily's only a part-timer and D&D, I can just download their podcast.
Kudos Jamie for taking that brave step in leaving MediaCorp and joining, believe it or not, ESPN Star Sports. Hey, it's about time another female presenter joined Collette Wong there. Can't wait to see her there.
Friday, June 30, 2006
Ok, maybe me talking about vomiting in the last post, and now this, falls under the 'too much info' category. But hey, I haven't done so in 10 years. That's a record I'm very proud of.
Here's something peculiar about myself. It seems the most creative time in my brain's life so far is whenever I get horribly, bed-riddenly (sic) sick.
(Wait, was that a bad pun in that last sentence?)
So, last night, I took mum's advice about inducing vomiting. (Toothbrushes are good with that). Oddly enough, while I was kneeling in front of the toilet bowl, my brain was at that very moment creating a little nursery rhyme, replacing "1, 2, Buckle My Shoe" (or was it "1, 2, Freddy's coming for you"?), with this:
1,2, Out came all the goo
3,4, Horrid smells galore
5,6, How'd I get in this fix?
7,8, Am so full of hate
9,10, Never eat again
Hey, gimme a break! Consider what I was doing while that rhyme was forming in my head.
Let me just say this, without going into the gory details: having not vomited for a decade, my body sure made up for lost time last night.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Taken from the blog of my friend (and incurable Francophile) Shanaz:
It was getting pretty crowded as the MRT was approaching Raffles Place and a group of young Malay girls and boys entered at Redhill (or was it Tiong Bahru??) Anyways, they were all dressed up in those current, hip sub-culture clothes. You get the picture. Red and black tie, thick eyeliner, ruffled hair, My Chemical Romance t-shirts, knee length socks etc. Whatever you call it lah. They were talking and talking.....and then.....the bombshell dropped.
One of the girls turned to the guys and asked loudly "Eh, asal Ronaldinho tak main untuk Barcelona kat World Cup ah? Asal dia main untuk Brazil pulak??"
Translation from Minah to English: "Why is Ronaldinho not playing for Barcelona in the WC? Why is he playing for Brazil instead??"
Heh, what do you know? A good dose of laughter is the best medicine!
Here's something peculiar about myself. It seems the most creative time in my brain's life so far is whenever I get horribly, bed-riddenly (sic) sick.
(Wait, was that a bad pun in that last sentence?)
So, last night, I took mum's advice about inducing vomiting. (Toothbrushes are good with that). Oddly enough, while I was kneeling in front of the toilet bowl, my brain was at that very moment creating a little nursery rhyme, replacing "1, 2, Buckle My Shoe" (or was it "1, 2, Freddy's coming for you"?), with this:
1,2, Out came all the goo
3,4, Horrid smells galore
5,6, How'd I get in this fix?
7,8, Am so full of hate
9,10, Never eat again
Hey, gimme a break! Consider what I was doing while that rhyme was forming in my head.
Let me just say this, without going into the gory details: having not vomited for a decade, my body sure made up for lost time last night.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Taken from the blog of my friend (and incurable Francophile) Shanaz:
It was getting pretty crowded as the MRT was approaching Raffles Place and a group of young Malay girls and boys entered at Redhill (or was it Tiong Bahru??) Anyways, they were all dressed up in those current, hip sub-culture clothes. You get the picture. Red and black tie, thick eyeliner, ruffled hair, My Chemical Romance t-shirts, knee length socks etc. Whatever you call it lah. They were talking and talking.....and then.....the bombshell dropped.
One of the girls turned to the guys and asked loudly "Eh, asal Ronaldinho tak main untuk Barcelona kat World Cup ah? Asal dia main untuk Brazil pulak??"
Translation from Minah to English: "Why is Ronaldinho not playing for Barcelona in the WC? Why is he playing for Brazil instead??"
Heh, what do you know? A good dose of laughter is the best medicine!
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Timecheck: Exactly 2 weeks until NS. Hopefully, this would be 2 of the most hectic weeks of my life. I've songs to listen to, movies to watch, games to play, people to curse, parents to love and beg, sister to make nice to, friends to chat with, computer to fix, noodles to eat, Coke to drink, and so on and forth.
But first and foremost, I've got a fever to cure. This would be my third in two months. That, gentle readers, is what we call a BAD SIGN.
But first and foremost, I've got a fever to cure. This would be my third in two months. That, gentle readers, is what we call a BAD SIGN.
Monday, June 26, 2006
You'd think the pinples would start to go away once you reach the big 2 Oh.
You'd think wrong.
I am currently suffering from the worst acne breakout of my life. You watch Superman Returns. You see Superman's shell of a homeworld, Krypton. That'll be my face.
Why do I care? Good question. I didn't once. Blame it on love I guess.
Did I say too much there?
-ahem-
I just hope that slopping Nivea, Clean & Clear AND SilkPro on my face would clear it up soon. Gotta look good for NS.
You'd think wrong.
I am currently suffering from the worst acne breakout of my life. You watch Superman Returns. You see Superman's shell of a homeworld, Krypton. That'll be my face.
Why do I care? Good question. I didn't once. Blame it on love I guess.
Did I say too much there?
-ahem-
I just hope that slopping Nivea, Clean & Clear AND SilkPro on my face would clear it up soon. Gotta look good for NS.
Monday, June 19, 2006
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Here is a video game I like to play now and then, combined with a song that I like to sing to myself quite often.
Ladies and gentlemen, Denis Leary and the Master Chief.
And since I know most people surfing the internet are slobs too lazy to search for the lyrics themselves (hey, I'm an asshole, didn't ya hear the song? :D)
[Spoken]
Folks, I'd like to sing a song about the American Dream. About me. About you. The way our American hearts beat down in the bottom of our chests. About the special feeling we get in the cockles of our hearts, maybe below the cockles, maybe in the sub-cockle area. Maybe in the liver. Maybe in the kidneys. Maybe even in the colon, we don't know.
I'm just a regular Joe with a regular job
I'm your average white suburbanite slob
I like football and porno and books about war
I've got an average house with a nic hardwood floor
My wife and my job, my kids and my car
My feet on my table, and a cuban cigar
But sometimes that just ain't enough to keep a man like me interested
(Oh no) No Way (Uh-uh)
No, I've gotta go out and have fun
At someone else's expense
(Oh yeah) Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
I drive really slow in the ultrafast lane
While people behind me are going insane
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, such an asshole)
I use public toilets and piss on the seat
I walk around in the summertime saying, "How about this heat?"
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole (He's the world's biggest asshole)
Sometimes I park in handicapped spaces
While handicapped people make handicapped faces
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole (He's a real fucking asshole)
Maybe I shouldn't be singing this song
Ranting and raving and carrying on
Maybe they're right when they tell me I'm wrong.....
NAAAH!
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole (He's the world's biggest asshole)
[Spoken]
You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna get myself a 1967 Cadillac El Dorado convertible, hot pink with whaleskin hub caps and all leather cow interior and big brown baby seal eyes for headlights, yeah! And I'm gonna drive around in that baby at 115mph getting one mile per gallon, sucking down quarter pounder cheese burgers from McDonald's in the old-fashioned non-biodegradable styrofoam containers and when I'm done sucking down those grease ball burgers, I'm gonna wipe my mouth with the American flag and then I'm gonna toss the styrofoam container right out the side and there ain't a God damned thing anybody can do about it. YOu know why? Because we got the bombs, that's why.
[Spoken]
Two words. Nuclear fucking weapons, okay?! Russia, Germany, Romania - they can have all the Democracy they want. They can have a big democracy cake-walk right through the middle of Tiananmen square and it won't make a lick of difference because we've got the bombs, okay?! John Wayne's not dead - he's frozen. And as soon as we find the cure for cancer we're gonna thaw out the duke and he's gonna be pretty pissed off. You know why? Have you ever taken a cold shower? Well multiple that by 15-million times, that's how pissed off the Duke's gonna be. I'm gonna get the Duke and John Cassavetes...
(Hey)
and Lee Marvin
(Hey)
and Sam Pekinpah
(Hey)
And a case of Whiskey and drive down to Texas...
(Hey, you know you really are an asshole)
Why don't you just shut-up and sing the song pal!
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole (He's the world's biggest asshole)
A!
S-S!
H-O!
L-E!
Everybody!
A!
S-S!
H-O!
L-E!
[Barking]
Arf Arf Arf Arf Arf Arf Arf
Fung achng tum a fung tum a fling chum
Oooh Oooh
[Spoken]
I'm an asshole and proud of it!
Ladies and gentlemen, Denis Leary and the Master Chief.
And since I know most people surfing the internet are slobs too lazy to search for the lyrics themselves (hey, I'm an asshole, didn't ya hear the song? :D)
[Spoken]
Folks, I'd like to sing a song about the American Dream. About me. About you. The way our American hearts beat down in the bottom of our chests. About the special feeling we get in the cockles of our hearts, maybe below the cockles, maybe in the sub-cockle area. Maybe in the liver. Maybe in the kidneys. Maybe even in the colon, we don't know.
I'm just a regular Joe with a regular job
I'm your average white suburbanite slob
I like football and porno and books about war
I've got an average house with a nic hardwood floor
My wife and my job, my kids and my car
My feet on my table, and a cuban cigar
But sometimes that just ain't enough to keep a man like me interested
(Oh no) No Way (Uh-uh)
No, I've gotta go out and have fun
At someone else's expense
(Oh yeah) Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
I drive really slow in the ultrafast lane
While people behind me are going insane
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, such an asshole)
I use public toilets and piss on the seat
I walk around in the summertime saying, "How about this heat?"
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole (He's the world's biggest asshole)
Sometimes I park in handicapped spaces
While handicapped people make handicapped faces
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole (He's a real fucking asshole)
Maybe I shouldn't be singing this song
Ranting and raving and carrying on
Maybe they're right when they tell me I'm wrong.....
NAAAH!
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole (He's the world's biggest asshole)
[Spoken]
You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna get myself a 1967 Cadillac El Dorado convertible, hot pink with whaleskin hub caps and all leather cow interior and big brown baby seal eyes for headlights, yeah! And I'm gonna drive around in that baby at 115mph getting one mile per gallon, sucking down quarter pounder cheese burgers from McDonald's in the old-fashioned non-biodegradable styrofoam containers and when I'm done sucking down those grease ball burgers, I'm gonna wipe my mouth with the American flag and then I'm gonna toss the styrofoam container right out the side and there ain't a God damned thing anybody can do about it. YOu know why? Because we got the bombs, that's why.
[Spoken]
Two words. Nuclear fucking weapons, okay?! Russia, Germany, Romania - they can have all the Democracy they want. They can have a big democracy cake-walk right through the middle of Tiananmen square and it won't make a lick of difference because we've got the bombs, okay?! John Wayne's not dead - he's frozen. And as soon as we find the cure for cancer we're gonna thaw out the duke and he's gonna be pretty pissed off. You know why? Have you ever taken a cold shower? Well multiple that by 15-million times, that's how pissed off the Duke's gonna be. I'm gonna get the Duke and John Cassavetes...
(Hey)
and Lee Marvin
(Hey)
and Sam Pekinpah
(Hey)
And a case of Whiskey and drive down to Texas...
(Hey, you know you really are an asshole)
Why don't you just shut-up and sing the song pal!
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole (He's the world's biggest asshole)
A!
S-S!
H-O!
L-E!
Everybody!
A!
S-S!
H-O!
L-E!
[Barking]
Arf Arf Arf Arf Arf Arf Arf
Fung achng tum a fung tum a fling chum
Oooh Oooh
[Spoken]
I'm an asshole and proud of it!
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Flashback time
Note: The author has written this for four reasons, to write something in conjuction with the ongoing World Cup, to wax nostalgia, to stretch his composition muscles and to show off his knack of remembering the most useless stuff from long ago, e.g. the time when the school bus he was on crashed into a motorcyclist, 15 frickin' years ago.
This happened in 1997, in Primary 5. The boys in my class, as you might expect, were nuts about football. And in those days, so was I. I made a pretty good defender in street footy. Really, I did! Ah, but my friends were better, so of course I was only the standby player for the inter-school football tournament.
Quite a lot of people were watching that first game, boys and girls. It was the first round, 5/3 (my class) against 5/4. I have to say, we were the favourites. We had, among others, Faiz (yes, THAT Faiz), prolific goal scorer, and (it's hard to forget this name) Nabawi, the Beckham nut. Styled his hair, played on the right and everything. We couldn't lose, surely!
So the match started, refreed by my Mother Tongue teacher. It was real neck-and-neck stuff, they scored one, we scored one, they scored two more, we scored two more. All the while, I was on the sidelines, watching the game eagerly. Before the game, everyone on the team promised me a place on the squad if they won. Actually, it didn't matter to me if I played or not, I just wanted my class to win. Hey, don't you want to be in the champion class too? Anyway, the score was tied 3-3, with 5 minutes to go. Now, Nabawi only started idolising Beckham when he scored this goal. Ever since, he wanted to emulate it. And, on the halfway line, with the ball on his feet and the goalie on his line, he got his chance. And he took it. The ball was rising. All eyes were on the ball. Rising..falling...goalie slipped! GOAL!!!
Naturally, my class started cheering. Nabawi was grinning like the dickens while he was mobbed. But see, I wasn't cheering. See, the goal posts? They had no nets. Blame it on the school ignoring the sports program. I wasn't cheering because I wasn't sure if the ball had crossed UNDER the crossbar (thereby leading to a goal) or OVER the crossbar. if there had been a net, the ball would have landed on it. Therefore, no goal. But no net means the ball continuing down to the ground. It doesn't matter. Everyone thought it was a goal.
Except, of course, the referee.
He blew the whistle and said 'No goal!'. In his opinion, the ball went over, not under, the bar. On hindsight, it was funny. Every single person in the school, even the opposing team, thought it was a goal except the one person who mattered.
Now, if you know Faiz (keeping in mind that he was pretty much the same in secondary school as in primary school, except that he knew more curse words), you can probably guess his reaction. To this date, that was the only time I've ever been in a situation close to a riot. Every single one of my classmates on the field was mobbing the ref, who was quite old mind you. Goodness knows what kind of names he was called. But, in a show of firmness that I could learn from, he made sure his decision stood. Play on, after 5 minutes of protests.
Wouldn't you know it? 5/4 scored the very next minute. 3-4. And that was the scoreline on the final whistle. We were out.
Looking at the guys after the match, it was like Princess Diana's then-recent funeral all over again. This, more than any other thing, was a permanant reminder of the power football holds over its true followers. I was disappointed not to be able to play, yes, but I brushed it off easily. But the guys, they were absolutely heart-broken. Think Singapore Idol rejects. Triple it. There you go, that was their reactions. The worst of it was Nabawi hugging me, tears and snot dripping on my shirt, apologising to me profusely for me not having the chance to play. I wish I was exaggerating. It was a good thing the exams were over, they were all so despondent from that day until the start of the December holidays. Every single guy. Except me, which the girls wondered about. I felt bad for them, of course, but it's hard to feel sad when your uncle just bought you your very first PC, you know?
The tournament was also notable for me getting hit HARD by a wayward ball in another match. At least the girls paid attention to me for a day afterwards.
There is a happy ending to this story: the next year, me, Faiz, Nabawi and one other guy were transfered to another class, 6/2, until now still my favourite class, primary or secondary. On that year's tournament, there were finally nets on the goal posts (shows you how big the controversy was, Dazhong Primary was a bit slow when it came to upgrades back then) and the guys made it to the final. I played 10 minutes of that match before being replaced by Faiz, who basically started murdering the other team. So, basically we won. I got my one and only sports medal.
Is it real gold or not? Pfft, who cares?! I have a Gold medal!
This happened in 1997, in Primary 5. The boys in my class, as you might expect, were nuts about football. And in those days, so was I. I made a pretty good defender in street footy. Really, I did! Ah, but my friends were better, so of course I was only the standby player for the inter-school football tournament.
Quite a lot of people were watching that first game, boys and girls. It was the first round, 5/3 (my class) against 5/4. I have to say, we were the favourites. We had, among others, Faiz (yes, THAT Faiz), prolific goal scorer, and (it's hard to forget this name) Nabawi, the Beckham nut. Styled his hair, played on the right and everything. We couldn't lose, surely!
So the match started, refreed by my Mother Tongue teacher. It was real neck-and-neck stuff, they scored one, we scored one, they scored two more, we scored two more. All the while, I was on the sidelines, watching the game eagerly. Before the game, everyone on the team promised me a place on the squad if they won. Actually, it didn't matter to me if I played or not, I just wanted my class to win. Hey, don't you want to be in the champion class too? Anyway, the score was tied 3-3, with 5 minutes to go. Now, Nabawi only started idolising Beckham when he scored this goal. Ever since, he wanted to emulate it. And, on the halfway line, with the ball on his feet and the goalie on his line, he got his chance. And he took it. The ball was rising. All eyes were on the ball. Rising..falling...goalie slipped! GOAL!!!
Naturally, my class started cheering. Nabawi was grinning like the dickens while he was mobbed. But see, I wasn't cheering. See, the goal posts? They had no nets. Blame it on the school ignoring the sports program. I wasn't cheering because I wasn't sure if the ball had crossed UNDER the crossbar (thereby leading to a goal) or OVER the crossbar. if there had been a net, the ball would have landed on it. Therefore, no goal. But no net means the ball continuing down to the ground. It doesn't matter. Everyone thought it was a goal.
Except, of course, the referee.
He blew the whistle and said 'No goal!'. In his opinion, the ball went over, not under, the bar. On hindsight, it was funny. Every single person in the school, even the opposing team, thought it was a goal except the one person who mattered.
Now, if you know Faiz (keeping in mind that he was pretty much the same in secondary school as in primary school, except that he knew more curse words), you can probably guess his reaction. To this date, that was the only time I've ever been in a situation close to a riot. Every single one of my classmates on the field was mobbing the ref, who was quite old mind you. Goodness knows what kind of names he was called. But, in a show of firmness that I could learn from, he made sure his decision stood. Play on, after 5 minutes of protests.
Wouldn't you know it? 5/4 scored the very next minute. 3-4. And that was the scoreline on the final whistle. We were out.
Looking at the guys after the match, it was like Princess Diana's then-recent funeral all over again. This, more than any other thing, was a permanant reminder of the power football holds over its true followers. I was disappointed not to be able to play, yes, but I brushed it off easily. But the guys, they were absolutely heart-broken. Think Singapore Idol rejects. Triple it. There you go, that was their reactions. The worst of it was Nabawi hugging me, tears and snot dripping on my shirt, apologising to me profusely for me not having the chance to play. I wish I was exaggerating. It was a good thing the exams were over, they were all so despondent from that day until the start of the December holidays. Every single guy. Except me, which the girls wondered about. I felt bad for them, of course, but it's hard to feel sad when your uncle just bought you your very first PC, you know?
The tournament was also notable for me getting hit HARD by a wayward ball in another match. At least the girls paid attention to me for a day afterwards.
There is a happy ending to this story: the next year, me, Faiz, Nabawi and one other guy were transfered to another class, 6/2, until now still my favourite class, primary or secondary. On that year's tournament, there were finally nets on the goal posts (shows you how big the controversy was, Dazhong Primary was a bit slow when it came to upgrades back then) and the guys made it to the final. I played 10 minutes of that match before being replaced by Faiz, who basically started murdering the other team. So, basically we won. I got my one and only sports medal.
Is it real gold or not? Pfft, who cares?! I have a Gold medal!
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Monday, June 05, 2006
If you search for "peter crouch" in YouTube, you'll find some videos of his now famous (among soccer fans) robot dance celebration.
Now, I've been doing it ever since I've heard of the robot dance. (BTW, domo arigato everyone!) When I've done it in front of a few people, they laugh and dance along. All in good fun though, I know that. And you know what, I do a pretty good robot if I do say so myself.
That beanpole Crouch does it, and it becomes a national phenomenon. No, I'm not sore that I wasn't the reason it became a phenomenon. It's just another way for Life to amuse me, that's all.
Interest in World Cup: nominal at best. Interest in Half-Life 2 Episode 1: off the charts!
Now, I've been doing it ever since I've heard of the robot dance. (BTW, domo arigato everyone!) When I've done it in front of a few people, they laugh and dance along. All in good fun though, I know that. And you know what, I do a pretty good robot if I do say so myself.
That beanpole Crouch does it, and it becomes a national phenomenon. No, I'm not sore that I wasn't the reason it became a phenomenon. It's just another way for Life to amuse me, that's all.
Interest in World Cup: nominal at best. Interest in Half-Life 2 Episode 1: off the charts!
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Me being a casual sci-fi fan, I suppose it is odd that I hated Buffy the Vampire Slayer. All those kids running around, killing demons, getting caught in life threatening situations.....'sigh' makes my life unbearably boring.
But I gotta admit, looking at the show again, Joss Whedon did a fine job creating the stories, making memorable characters, writing the snarky lines. It's that and a lot more that makes people consider that TV show the greatest of all time (believe it or not, cause I don't).
So, there's another show similar to Buffy coming. Nothing supernatural this time, it's just about a fledgling private detective who just so happens to be gorgeous. But that's not why I'm going to watch it. I've heard a lot of things about this show and it's all good. They say it's better than Lost (and I love Lost), which says a whole lot, doesn't it? Despite that, it's not a big hit in the US, which is why it's not surprising that Channel 5 is showing it at the Sunday 6PM slot, starting tomorrow.
Yeah, NOW you bring this show on air, with my NS in 37 days. Huh.
Anyway, the show? Veronica Mars. Watch it!
But I gotta admit, looking at the show again, Joss Whedon did a fine job creating the stories, making memorable characters, writing the snarky lines. It's that and a lot more that makes people consider that TV show the greatest of all time (believe it or not, cause I don't).
So, there's another show similar to Buffy coming. Nothing supernatural this time, it's just about a fledgling private detective who just so happens to be gorgeous. But that's not why I'm going to watch it. I've heard a lot of things about this show and it's all good. They say it's better than Lost (and I love Lost), which says a whole lot, doesn't it? Despite that, it's not a big hit in the US, which is why it's not surprising that Channel 5 is showing it at the Sunday 6PM slot, starting tomorrow.
Yeah, NOW you bring this show on air, with my NS in 37 days. Huh.
Anyway, the show? Veronica Mars. Watch it!
Thursday, June 01, 2006
I'd like to remind everyone to be careful when making friends with pre-teens. They're great to talk to, maybe even to hang out with, if you don't mind the occasional stares. But talk and hang out with them long enough, and you may begin to start acting and thinking like a pre-teen. Trust me on this, it's not pretty.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Very....creative
This ad is stupid. But also very irresistably KAWAII!!!
Sorry.
Still, this proves you can never go wrong with pandas and cute Japanese music. All it needed was a penguin and it'll be perfect.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
So here I was thinking of ways to save money to get a new handphone and the Playstation 3 when it comes out with my NS allowance. I'd heard that the pricing plans for the PS3 would be released in the recently concluded E3 (basically the Lollapalooza of computer gaming).
Sony duly released the pricing plans: for a PS3 with a 60GB Hard Drive? US$599
US$599=S$947
I feel sick.
Someway, someway.....
Sony duly released the pricing plans: for a PS3 with a 60GB Hard Drive? US$599
US$599=S$947
I feel sick.
Someway, someway.....Thursday, May 25, 2006
Hear ye, hear ye...
I wanna try explaining podcasting again, but I suddenly temporarily lost the ability to be funny, so I'll let a ninja handle the explaining. I hope you don't mind fishy metaphors.
Why do I want to explain podcasting? To introduce something I've been wanting to do for months now, ever since I got a mic and Audacity. But I am, of course, one of the world's foremost experts in procrastinating, so I pushed it and pushed it and pushed it until finally, I realised that if I don't do it soon, after NS, I may be so busy, I might even have the desire to start.
So, here it is. The first (and last) trailer for the Meesotofreak Podcast. The podcast proper will start (as the computer game companies always say) When It's Ready.
PS. You can download the first 2 MP3s before the trailer, if you, y'know, like bad singing and all...
Why do I want to explain podcasting? To introduce something I've been wanting to do for months now, ever since I got a mic and Audacity. But I am, of course, one of the world's foremost experts in procrastinating, so I pushed it and pushed it and pushed it until finally, I realised that if I don't do it soon, after NS, I may be so busy, I might even have the desire to start.
So, here it is. The first (and last) trailer for the Meesotofreak Podcast. The podcast proper will start (as the computer game companies always say) When It's Ready.
PS. You can download the first 2 MP3s before the trailer, if you, y'know, like bad singing and all...
Monday, May 22, 2006
Saturday, May 20, 2006
Because my dear sister has been a very naughty girl, our Dad has seen fit to 'GASP!' take away her handphone! Now, because I can't resist those Bambi eyes she uses when she really, truly wants something done by someone, she's sharing my phone.
So, in the meantime, be careful with what SMSes any of you dear readers send me. This means, Steve, that you have to quit it with the mushy stuff.
So, in the meantime, be careful with what SMSes any of you dear readers send me. This means, Steve, that you have to quit it with the mushy stuff.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Trying to read 50 Hercule Poirot short stories in one sitting is like trying to eat 50 Kueh Lapis-es (most definitely sic) in one sitting: The first, oh, 20 or so, they're great, delicious, I can't stop at one. Or two. Or five. But by the 25th, I start to get really, really sick of it. It's still delicious, I just can't stomach anymore or I'll puke. I'll just have to wait a few weeks to get the appetite to read the remaining short stories. It's always a pleasure reading about a fellow egg-shaped headed man (try seeing me with a bald head. Brrrr...)
Here's a series of conversations that happened the past few months:
(February)
MSF: Can I have a haircut?
Mom: Why? Nice what, your hair.
(March)
MSF: Can I have a haircut?
Mom: No money!
(April)
MSF: Can I pleeease have a haircut?
Mom: Berape kali nak cakap, takde duit!
(Last week)
MSF: (looking at the mirror) Say, my hair's looking good. Almost like David Beckham. I think I'll keep it!
Dad: (enters room) Son, go get a haircut tomorrow.
MSF: WHAT?! But...
Dad: Here's 20 bucks, 10 for the barber, 10 for pocket money.
(beat)
MSF: You want me to get a crew-cut, or fully bald?
Counting the 10 bucks I had stored and the 10 Mom gave me, that's 30 dollars I had. And true to form, I spent 2/3rds of it in 2 days flat.
I have got to control my spending urges.
Here's a series of conversations that happened the past few months:
(February)
MSF: Can I have a haircut?
Mom: Why? Nice what, your hair.
(March)
MSF: Can I have a haircut?
Mom: No money!
(April)
MSF: Can I pleeease have a haircut?
Mom: Berape kali nak cakap, takde duit!
(Last week)
MSF: (looking at the mirror) Say, my hair's looking good. Almost like David Beckham. I think I'll keep it!
Dad: (enters room) Son, go get a haircut tomorrow.
MSF: WHAT?! But...
Dad: Here's 20 bucks, 10 for the barber, 10 for pocket money.
(beat)
MSF: You want me to get a crew-cut, or fully bald?
Counting the 10 bucks I had stored and the 10 Mom gave me, that's 30 dollars I had. And true to form, I spent 2/3rds of it in 2 days flat.
I have got to control my spending urges.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Things to do before NS List # 84: No more writing titles for the sake of writing titles
As you probably can tell by that shiny button to your right, I'm a Firefox fan. And as some of you might now, when I like something, I REALLY like that something. Ask Cik Aini, the makcik selling the Mee Soto in Yusof Ishak Sec. Anyway, yes, I love Firefox and offered the chance to sell it, I would. If I could. Not face to face of course, not with the way I speak. Stutter and all You're digressing... anyway, I could go on about how safe Firefox is, how much better than IE is, how, with extensions and themes, you could really pimp the living sh!t out of that browser.
Like so.
One of the big reasons why I like Firefox is the idea of an alternative browser. Internet Explorer has been in the seat of power in the world of browsers for so long, it's made Microsoft a little lax in fixing what needs to be fixed. (Why am I feeling a sudden sense of deja vu?)
Sure, there are other choices long before Firefox, like Opera. But Firefox has become an actual strong "Opposition" to IE. I for one love that. It's made Microsoft pull up their socks and actually get to work on upgrading IE. Their new beta version of IE has promise.
It gives consumers choice.
Which is why I'm not using Explorer Destroyer.
Sure, it's tempting. It could force most of you dear readers to switch to Firefox to be able to read my blog. And I'd get a dollar for every person who does exactly that. But no. For 3 reasons:
So, uh, in conclusion,
!
(Yeah, I'm doing this once in a blue moon. Any problem with that?)
Like so.
One of the big reasons why I like Firefox is the idea of an alternative browser. Internet Explorer has been in the seat of power in the world of browsers for so long, it's made Microsoft a little lax in fixing what needs to be fixed. (Why am I feeling a sudden sense of deja vu?)
Sure, there are other choices long before Firefox, like Opera. But Firefox has become an actual strong "Opposition" to IE. I for one love that. It's made Microsoft pull up their socks and actually get to work on upgrading IE. Their new beta version of IE has promise.
It gives consumers choice.
Which is why I'm not using Explorer Destroyer.
Sure, it's tempting. It could force most of you dear readers to switch to Firefox to be able to read my blog. And I'd get a dollar for every person who does exactly that. But no. For 3 reasons:
- Remember what I said about choice? If I used this script, I'd be a hypocrite, wouldn't I? As much as I want you all to switch to Firefox, I want you to do so without being forced to.
- Explored Destroyer uses Google AdSense to pay the $1. I dunno, this goes against Google's "Do No Evil" policy, doesn't it? Using scripts to block internet content without permission?
- You could easily just boycott this blog. Now that's definitely not a good thing.
So, uh, in conclusion,
!(Yeah, I'm doing this once in a blue moon. Any problem with that?)
Friday, April 28, 2006
The Morning of 27th April 2006 (Singapore time)
Me: Arsenal's going to the finals! Arsenal's going to the finals!
That voice in my head: Barca's gonna crush us! Barca's gonna crush us!
Random Liverpool fan: Pfft! Been there, done that!
Random Tottenham fan: Well, that's it, dear. I'm becoming an atheist.
Cynical Brit: Yeah, but where're all the Brits in the team, eh?
Parisian vendor selling Arsenal and Barcelona jerseys: $$$$$!!!!
Every single Gooner in the world: (to the tune of the Pet Shop Boys' "Go West") One-niiiiiil...to the Arsenal! One-niiiiiiil...to the Arsenal!
That voice in my head: Barca's gonna crush us! Barca's gonna crush us!
Random Liverpool fan: Pfft! Been there, done that!
Random Tottenham fan: Well, that's it, dear. I'm becoming an atheist.
Cynical Brit: Yeah, but where're all the Brits in the team, eh?
Parisian vendor selling Arsenal and Barcelona jerseys: $$$$$!!!!
Every single Gooner in the world: (to the tune of the Pet Shop Boys' "Go West") One-niiiiiil...to the Arsenal! One-niiiiiiil...to the Arsenal!
Thursday, April 27, 2006
No Campaigning Allowed
So I won't campaign or support a particular party. Why should I? Since I'm too young to vote. By only 9 effin' months...
So, the GRC I currently live in, Jurong, goes to the PAP in a walkover. Shame. I would love to see something like the last election, with the "good" Dr. Chee Soon Juan and his team contesting here.
"Mr. Goh, come here! I want to talk to you! Where is the money?"
At 14, I considered that the height of coolness. At 20, I consider that the height of idiocy. Just sayin'.....
I'll be honest here, I watch politics same as I watch MTV, for the sound & the fury. Politics can be entertaining sometimes. But there will be a time when I'll have to really consider the important issues. Bills don't pay themselves, jobs don't grow on trees. But until then, I'm content to sit here, eat my popcorn and watch as some other Opposition MP say something really dumb and get bankrupted because of it.
Enough political talk, or else I might say something dumb myself and find myself in the front page of The New Paper and Lianhe Wanbao.
So, the GRC I currently live in, Jurong, goes to the PAP in a walkover. Shame. I would love to see something like the last election, with the "good" Dr. Chee Soon Juan and his team contesting here.
"Mr. Goh, come here! I want to talk to you! Where is the money?"
At 14, I considered that the height of coolness. At 20, I consider that the height of idiocy. Just sayin'.....
I'll be honest here, I watch politics same as I watch MTV, for the sound & the fury. Politics can be entertaining sometimes. But there will be a time when I'll have to really consider the important issues. Bills don't pay themselves, jobs don't grow on trees. But until then, I'm content to sit here, eat my popcorn and watch as some other Opposition MP say something really dumb and get bankrupted because of it.
Enough political talk, or else I might say something dumb myself and find myself in the front page of The New Paper and Lianhe Wanbao.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
What's that smell?
It's amazing how much the smell of minty apples can make you feel really, really, really (and I do mean, really) good. And kinda stoned.
I wonder where Dad bought that new apple scented air freshener in his room?
I wonder where Dad bought that new apple scented air freshener in his room?
Monday, April 24, 2006
Does this happen to you?
And of course, Henry the Horse dances the salsa says:
busy day at work huh?
(10 minutes pass)
Hmmm, I guess he is busy.
(20 minutes pass)
It's alright, I can wait. Hum de dum dum...
(30 minutes pass)
Wait, he might be ignoring me....naahh!
(40 minutes pass)
Sh!t, he IS ignoring me! What the hell? Is it me? Does he not like me? Did I offend him?
(50 minutes pass)
OMG, OMG, he's not saying anything. He hates me, he hates me!
(59 minutes pass)
That's it! Life's not worth livin' anymore! Goodbye, cruel...
[new MSN message sound]
Poppy Cock Boys says:
Yeah real tough day...
Oops, never mind...
-------------------------------------------------------------------
I hate being so paranoid, especially on MSN. Bleah!
busy day at work huh?
(10 minutes pass)
Hmmm, I guess he is busy.
(20 minutes pass)
It's alright, I can wait. Hum de dum dum...
(30 minutes pass)
Wait, he might be ignoring me....naahh!
(40 minutes pass)
Sh!t, he IS ignoring me! What the hell? Is it me? Does he not like me? Did I offend him?
(50 minutes pass)
OMG, OMG, he's not saying anything. He hates me, he hates me!
(59 minutes pass)
That's it! Life's not worth livin' anymore! Goodbye, cruel...
[new MSN message sound]
Poppy Cock Boys says:
Yeah real tough day...
Oops, never mind...
-------------------------------------------------------------------
I hate being so paranoid, especially on MSN. Bleah!
Friday, April 21, 2006
Hmmm...
My phone just had the longest conversation it's ever had (when I'm using it, mind you).
1:33:14
Overall, the record is still 1:46:24
Since it's an outgoing call, I can expect a killer phone bill next month. But I won't mind it a bit!
Ok, uh, that's all, I guess. Just wanted to say SOMETHING, that's all.
1:33:14
Overall, the record is still 1:46:24
Since it's an outgoing call, I can expect a killer phone bill next month. But I won't mind it a bit!
Ok, uh, that's all, I guess. Just wanted to say SOMETHING, that's all.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Yesterday's Horoscope
Pisces
"Your friends and family may wonder what's going on, for your actions may seem out of character to them. They might think that you flipped your lid. You, on the other hand, could be feeling giddy as you break out of a box that has restrained you for too long. Tread carefully, for escaping is one thing, but hurting someone you love is something else."
They probably can't read your future, but those horoscope writers can eerily read your mind sometimes, eh?
"Your friends and family may wonder what's going on, for your actions may seem out of character to them. They might think that you flipped your lid. You, on the other hand, could be feeling giddy as you break out of a box that has restrained you for too long. Tread carefully, for escaping is one thing, but hurting someone you love is something else."
They probably can't read your future, but those horoscope writers can eerily read your mind sometimes, eh?
Monday, April 17, 2006
Holla to the Back...
Last Saturday, I went to both a mainstream gig and an indie gig. Adjusting from one and the other could kill you.
The focus is on the mainstream gig, so let's just get the indie one out of the way. Basically, I read about something going on in the Substation. Local gigs bla bla flea market bla bla bla used to be regular in the 90s bla bla bla hoping to kickstart it back. Plus I've never actually been to the Substation despite it being near the old National Library. Shocking, ain't it?
Things to do before NS List - #37: Get in the local music scene more.
Shady shopkeeper: Come, sir, buy this CD. Support local music, don't let your parents persecute you for your right to listen to music.
Me: Are you sure this CD is good?
Shady shopkeeper: Brother, trust me. If you're not happy, just come back next week! I just won't be here, that's all!
It's a punk CD, by the way, full of bands that of course I've never heard of except Opposition Party. And hey, it's better punk than Simple Bleh and Good Charlatan.
As for the bands playing, Lunarin was nice. Concave Scream however nearly put me to sleep. But maybe that's because earlier events left me punch drunk.
Lunarin: gotta remember that name.
Now, on to the real focus of today's post:
(Insert pumping beats here)
If there's one thing this event has taught me, it's that it pays to know the right people. The right people who can get you VIP seats. Thanks, Kera (pronounced Keh-Ra)! And by extension, thanks Hutch and Don!
As you can see, it's quite the popular thing, this Hollaback Crew. The queue nearly crawled all the way roung the Singapore Indoor Stadium. And it's a huge ass stadium.
In actual fact, cameras weren't allowed in there. But since when have I listened to security?
Oh yeah, since I was born. Well, that changed today.
The stage, where it all happens. That's Mark Richmond and Beatrice Chia down there, with some other dudette.
Too bad I can't show you the 987 DJs entrance, it was quite something. Stupid camera was getting screwy. I could really use a new digi-cam, one that can actually zoom beyond 2X.....'ahem'
It's Ronin! I don't really like 'em, but hey, it's Ronin!
To be frank, I really didn't care about the actual Hollaback Crew competition itself. Why should I, I'm not competing. I only took 1 pic of only 1 of the groups competing. Good thing they turned out to be the Over 17 winners, eh?
Street Fusion. The amazing thing was that they were the only ones not from any school.
I came for one reason. To see a pineapple! Oh, and Don and Drew.
Very blurry picture of Mr. Andrew Crothers coming down the stairs rapping about the virtues of Malaysian food.
The Eurasian's on the right, the Ang Moh's to the left.
To all of you people from JCs, polytechnics, ITEs annnnd...NTU...
(weak cheers from the students)
All your weak cheers don't impress Don and Drew...
(strong boos from students)
You can boo all you want, you can cry to your mammy...
Quite frankly, we'd be more impressed if you were more...like...Tammyyyyyyy...
I love 'em, I'm their #2 fan.
That big red dishcloth there? Best Banner winner. 'Sigh' Standards are getting lower.....
At one point, all the girls suddenly jumped up as one and started mercilessly killing my eardrums.
I was reaching ever so slowly for my phone to call Woodbridge Hospital to report a case of unexplained mass insania. Then I looked to the front.
Ah, well. That explains it.
From the left, Kera, Stephi and Stephi's friend, acting their age.
So the show ended, Street Fusion and SCGS won for Over and Under 17 respectively. They get to share $10 000 each. Nice.
Oh alright, I gotta give props to Street Fusion. They brought the house down with everything, the props, percussion, dancing et al.
Autograph-wise, I got Beatrice Chia's and Carrie Chong's. Whoo, Carrie! I had to control a sudden unexpected urge to propose to her. (NS List - #18: Get as many autographs as I can.)
I said I didn't like Ronin. But, well, the lead singer was hanging around the outside of the stadium so what the heck. 1 autograph.
And that pic. (Damn, I look stiff.)
He's a pretty nice guy. Cool, calm, even a little stoned, I think.
So all in all, an excellent way to spend a Saturday evening. It left me wisihing I was a little younger again. 'sigh'
For more pics, here's a link to my set in Flickr: 987FM Hollaback Crew
Now to figure out how to get out on the next Saturday evening...
The focus is on the mainstream gig, so let's just get the indie one out of the way. Basically, I read about something going on in the Substation. Local gigs bla bla flea market bla bla bla used to be regular in the 90s bla bla bla hoping to kickstart it back. Plus I've never actually been to the Substation despite it being near the old National Library. Shocking, ain't it?
Things to do before NS List - #37: Get in the local music scene more.
Shady shopkeeper: Come, sir, buy this CD. Support local music, don't let your parents persecute you for your right to listen to music.
Me: Are you sure this CD is good?
Shady shopkeeper: Brother, trust me. If you're not happy, just come back next week! I just won't be here, that's all!
It's a punk CD, by the way, full of bands that of course I've never heard of except Opposition Party. And hey, it's better punk than Simple Bleh and Good Charlatan.
As for the bands playing, Lunarin was nice. Concave Scream however nearly put me to sleep. But maybe that's because earlier events left me punch drunk.
Lunarin: gotta remember that name.
Now, on to the real focus of today's post:
(Insert pumping beats here)
If there's one thing this event has taught me, it's that it pays to know the right people. The right people who can get you VIP seats. Thanks, Kera (pronounced Keh-Ra)! And by extension, thanks Hutch and Don!
As you can see, it's quite the popular thing, this Hollaback Crew. The queue nearly crawled all the way roung the Singapore Indoor Stadium. And it's a huge ass stadium.
In actual fact, cameras weren't allowed in there. But since when have I listened to security?
Oh yeah, since I was born. Well, that changed today.
The stage, where it all happens. That's Mark Richmond and Beatrice Chia down there, with some other dudette.
Too bad I can't show you the 987 DJs entrance, it was quite something. Stupid camera was getting screwy. I could really use a new digi-cam, one that can actually zoom beyond 2X.....'ahem'
It's Ronin! I don't really like 'em, but hey, it's Ronin!
To be frank, I really didn't care about the actual Hollaback Crew competition itself. Why should I, I'm not competing. I only took 1 pic of only 1 of the groups competing. Good thing they turned out to be the Over 17 winners, eh?
Street Fusion. The amazing thing was that they were the only ones not from any school.
I came for one reason. To see a pineapple! Oh, and Don and Drew.
Very blurry picture of Mr. Andrew Crothers coming down the stairs rapping about the virtues of Malaysian food.
The Eurasian's on the right, the Ang Moh's to the left.
To all of you people from JCs, polytechnics, ITEs annnnd...NTU...
(weak cheers from the students)
All your weak cheers don't impress Don and Drew...
(strong boos from students)
You can boo all you want, you can cry to your mammy...
Quite frankly, we'd be more impressed if you were more...like...Tammyyyyyyy...
I love 'em, I'm their #2 fan.
That big red dishcloth there? Best Banner winner. 'Sigh' Standards are getting lower.....
At one point, all the girls suddenly jumped up as one and started mercilessly killing my eardrums.
I was reaching ever so slowly for my phone to call Woodbridge Hospital to report a case of unexplained mass insania. Then I looked to the front.
Ah, well. That explains it.
From the left, Kera, Stephi and Stephi's friend, acting their age.
So the show ended, Street Fusion and SCGS won for Over and Under 17 respectively. They get to share $10 000 each. Nice.
Oh alright, I gotta give props to Street Fusion. They brought the house down with everything, the props, percussion, dancing et al.
Autograph-wise, I got Beatrice Chia's and Carrie Chong's. Whoo, Carrie! I had to control a sudden unexpected urge to propose to her. (NS List - #18: Get as many autographs as I can.)
I said I didn't like Ronin. But, well, the lead singer was hanging around the outside of the stadium so what the heck. 1 autograph.
And that pic. (Damn, I look stiff.)
He's a pretty nice guy. Cool, calm, even a little stoned, I think.
So all in all, an excellent way to spend a Saturday evening. It left me wisihing I was a little younger again. 'sigh'
For more pics, here's a link to my set in Flickr: 987FM Hollaback Crew
Now to figure out how to get out on the next Saturday evening...
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Eh, what the heck...
I got this from her, who got it from him, who got it from her, who.....aah, you get the picture.
Instructions: Go to your music player of choice and put it on shuffle. Say the following questions aloud, and press play. Use the song title as the answer to the question. NO CHEATING.
How does the world see me?
yeah toxic - britney & usher mash-up
(toxic? me? only after a burrito lunch maybe.)
Will I have a happy life?
bohemian like you - dandy warhols
(a happy bohemian life. mmmmm......)
What do my friends really think of me?
keep me in your heart - warren zevon
(awww, that's sweet!)
Do people secretly lust after me?
relaku pujuk - spider (loosely translated: willing to coax/entice)
(eh, i'll take that.)
How can I make myself happy?
no no no - the yeah yeah yeahs
(oh, thanks a lot!!!)
What should I do with my life?
1 thing - amerie
(what thing? sleeping? eating? pogoing? get amnesty from the US? what?! don't leave me hanging!)
Will I ever have children?
younger generation - the adicts
(oh look, i've found my theme song. but as for the question, i probably will, and pretty rebellious ones too. awesome!)
What is some good advice for me?
push the button - sugababes
(ok, this may be some deep metaphorical message. but i'll take it literally and push the fan's on button. aaaaah, much better!)
How will I be remembered?
waterfalls - tlc
(making people move and groove just like this song does? oh yeah!)
What is my signature dancing song?
love in the first degree - bananarama
(well, i do like my mambo jambo. :D)
What do I think my current theme song is?
berhenti berharap - sheila on 7 (loosely translated: stop hoping)
(hmmm, this can't be good.)
What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
i'm too sexy - right said fred
(HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!)
What song will play at my funeral?
voodoo child - jimi hendrix
(i'll probably rise up from the dead and play some wicked riffs.)
What type of men/women do I like?
[men] scummy - arctic monkeys
(yeah, sure.)
[women] hot in herre - nelly
(-devilish grin-)
What is my day going to be like?
wild tonight - shaggy featuring olivia
(sssh, don't tell my parents!)
Instructions: Go to your music player of choice and put it on shuffle. Say the following questions aloud, and press play. Use the song title as the answer to the question. NO CHEATING.
How does the world see me?
yeah toxic - britney & usher mash-up
(toxic? me? only after a burrito lunch maybe.)
Will I have a happy life?
bohemian like you - dandy warhols
(a happy bohemian life. mmmmm......)
What do my friends really think of me?
keep me in your heart - warren zevon
(awww, that's sweet!)
Do people secretly lust after me?
relaku pujuk - spider (loosely translated: willing to coax/entice)
(eh, i'll take that.)
How can I make myself happy?
no no no - the yeah yeah yeahs
(oh, thanks a lot!!!)
What should I do with my life?
1 thing - amerie
(what thing? sleeping? eating? pogoing? get amnesty from the US? what?! don't leave me hanging!)
Will I ever have children?
younger generation - the adicts
(oh look, i've found my theme song. but as for the question, i probably will, and pretty rebellious ones too. awesome!)
What is some good advice for me?
push the button - sugababes
(ok, this may be some deep metaphorical message. but i'll take it literally and push the fan's on button. aaaaah, much better!)
How will I be remembered?
waterfalls - tlc
(making people move and groove just like this song does? oh yeah!)
What is my signature dancing song?
love in the first degree - bananarama
(well, i do like my mambo jambo. :D)
What do I think my current theme song is?
berhenti berharap - sheila on 7 (loosely translated: stop hoping)
(hmmm, this can't be good.)
What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
i'm too sexy - right said fred
(HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!)
What song will play at my funeral?
voodoo child - jimi hendrix
(i'll probably rise up from the dead and play some wicked riffs.)
What type of men/women do I like?
[men] scummy - arctic monkeys
(yeah, sure.)
[women] hot in herre - nelly
(-devilish grin-)
What is my day going to be like?
wild tonight - shaggy featuring olivia
(sssh, don't tell my parents!)
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
90 Days! 90 Days!
Guys, if you don't mind, I might spend some time reminiscing on this blog my past 20 years in existence. Cause when I get enlisted, it's like I'm saying goodbye once and for all to irresponsibility and immaturity.
Oh yeah, and as little angst as possible. We've got quite enough the past week.
Oh yeah, and as little angst as possible. We've got quite enough the past week.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
One fine day in MSF's Room
(The Meesotofreak (MSF) is listening to the radio)
Radio: Said I'm so sick of love songs, so tired of BRBRRASZZZZZZZKT!....We interrupt this song for an important news bulletin. (beat) Alright, settle down, the song's not THAT bad. Well, it is, but see.....'ahem' anyway, this is a message for YOU!
MSF: Me?
Radio: Yes, dammit, didn't you hear me the first time? Now the Government (All Hail The Benevolent Mr. Lee!) has decided to use its rather excellent radio jamming systems to send you this message: Meesotofreak, you are chosen!
MSF: Chosen?
Radio: Dagnabit, will you stop being a parrot and listen? Yes, chosen!
MSF: Great! They must've gotten that letter I sent to the President.
Radio: What letter?
MSF: The one where I asked (rather politely, I might add) to be the Singapore Noodle Ambassador to the UK.
Radio: What? No, don't be ridiculous, the President would never allow that to happen!
(Meanwhile, in the Istana)
President: Hmmm, Noodle Ambasador, eh? Me likey!
(Back in MSF's Room)
Radio: Anyway, what I've been trying to say is that-'ahem'-You have been chosen to serve your nation and enter National Service!
MSF: Oh. Well, that's great too. But shouldn't I get a letter...
(MSF's door opens)
Dad: Mail!
MSF: Anything from Carrie?
Dad: Nope! Just this letter from MINDEF.
MSF: Darn! Thanks anyway, Dad.
Dad: No prob. (closes door)
(MSF looks at the blue letter with the words MINDEF: TOP SECRET! WE MEAN IT, TOP BLOODY SECRET!)
Radio: To save you the bother of reading it, I'll recap the important bits for you: You have been drafted into the Singapore Civil Defence Force (SCDF).
MSF: Hmmm. I suppose I don't have to worry about crawling through Mandai Jungle, huh?
Radio: No, but you will have to worry about bringing cats down from trees. 'ahem' Furthermore, you will have to fall-in and register at the SCDF Jalan Bahar Headquarters on the 11th of July 2006 at 8:30 AM sharp! Your parents may join you, you'll have to come in neat attire, you must bring the proper things, blah blah blah, etc etc etc. The rest you can read in that lette, I'm getting bored here of just yapping.
MSF: Well, go and play a song then.
Radio: Good idea! But not that R&B and punk-lite rubbish they keep airing, yech! I know, I'll play some Malmsteen! Let's rock!
(The radio turns up the volume and plays some INSANELY LOUD guitar riffs)
Radio: I AM A VIIIIIIKIIIING, IN GOING OUT TO 'click'
(MSF turns off radio)
MSF: Brrr! That song always scares me!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Just in case you missed what I'm trying to say (or too damn lazy to read all that), a recap: I got my call-up letter which says I'm posted to the SCDF and have to report to Jalan Bahar on the 11th of July at 8:30AM.
Er, whoopee?
OK, now MINDEF's given me the letter I've been waiting from them. What about you, Senors Don & Drew? Where's my Pearl Jam CD?!
Radio: Said I'm so sick of love songs, so tired of BRBRRASZZZZZZZKT!....We interrupt this song for an important news bulletin. (beat) Alright, settle down, the song's not THAT bad. Well, it is, but see.....'ahem' anyway, this is a message for YOU!
MSF: Me?
Radio: Yes, dammit, didn't you hear me the first time? Now the Government (All Hail The Benevolent Mr. Lee!) has decided to use its rather excellent radio jamming systems to send you this message: Meesotofreak, you are chosen!
MSF: Chosen?
Radio: Dagnabit, will you stop being a parrot and listen? Yes, chosen!
MSF: Great! They must've gotten that letter I sent to the President.
Radio: What letter?
MSF: The one where I asked (rather politely, I might add) to be the Singapore Noodle Ambassador to the UK.
Radio: What? No, don't be ridiculous, the President would never allow that to happen!
(Meanwhile, in the Istana)
President: Hmmm, Noodle Ambasador, eh? Me likey!
(Back in MSF's Room)
Radio: Anyway, what I've been trying to say is that-'ahem'-You have been chosen to serve your nation and enter National Service!
MSF: Oh. Well, that's great too. But shouldn't I get a letter...
(MSF's door opens)
Dad: Mail!
MSF: Anything from Carrie?
Dad: Nope! Just this letter from MINDEF.
MSF: Darn! Thanks anyway, Dad.
Dad: No prob. (closes door)
(MSF looks at the blue letter with the words MINDEF: TOP SECRET! WE MEAN IT, TOP BLOODY SECRET!)
Radio: To save you the bother of reading it, I'll recap the important bits for you: You have been drafted into the Singapore Civil Defence Force (SCDF).
MSF: Hmmm. I suppose I don't have to worry about crawling through Mandai Jungle, huh?
Radio: No, but you will have to worry about bringing cats down from trees. 'ahem' Furthermore, you will have to fall-in and register at the SCDF Jalan Bahar Headquarters on the 11th of July 2006 at 8:30 AM sharp! Your parents may join you, you'll have to come in neat attire, you must bring the proper things, blah blah blah, etc etc etc. The rest you can read in that lette, I'm getting bored here of just yapping.
MSF: Well, go and play a song then.
Radio: Good idea! But not that R&B and punk-lite rubbish they keep airing, yech! I know, I'll play some Malmsteen! Let's rock!
(The radio turns up the volume and plays some INSANELY LOUD guitar riffs)
Radio: I AM A VIIIIIIKIIIING, IN GOING OUT TO 'click'
(MSF turns off radio)
MSF: Brrr! That song always scares me!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Just in case you missed what I'm trying to say (or too damn lazy to read all that), a recap: I got my call-up letter which says I'm posted to the SCDF and have to report to Jalan Bahar on the 11th of July at 8:30AM.
Er, whoopee?
OK, now MINDEF's given me the letter I've been waiting from them. What about you, Senors Don & Drew? Where's my Pearl Jam CD?!
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Talk about mixed emotions....
For the record, it IS possible to wear both masks at once. I don't know how to describe it, but it's...unpleasant to say the least. As if my brain can't make up its mind. Make up already!
I don't know, it's like if I'm not miserable, I'm not happy.
Does that make sense to anyone?
Oh boy, I'm beginning to sound more and more like an angry emo teenager. Where were these feelings 2 years ago?! Now it's just a tad embarrasing.
Nothing wrong with showing emotions of course. Hey, I can't be macho while my head's about to explode. For those who can, I salute you! I just need to find a way to express 'em in the proper way.
Crying in the bed-sheets? Ah, timeless.
In other news, my dear Adik is off somewhere climbing a mountain with her nursing friends. Probably trying to heal some baby bird who fell off a tree. That leaves me alone with 2 cranky parents.
MINDEF, hurry up with that call-up letter, why don't cha?
Let's rock!
Here's something I'd like to be a part of someday: an Arctic Monkeys gig.
My fave Arctic Monkeys song: A Certain Romance. You can't hear that opening drumbeat and not get excited!
Plus: Gorillaz @ the legendary Apollo Theatre in New York.
Practically the whole shebang: it has Dennis freakin' Hopper for Pete's sakes!
Good old Statler & Waldorf got some plastic surgery done
Watch for "Dirty Harry". The choir is infectious!
My fave Arctic Monkeys song: A Certain Romance. You can't hear that opening drumbeat and not get excited!
Plus: Gorillaz @ the legendary Apollo Theatre in New York.
Practically the whole shebang: it has Dennis freakin' Hopper for Pete's sakes!
Good old Statler & Waldorf got some plastic surgery done
Watch for "Dirty Harry". The choir is infectious!
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Here's something to cheer everyone (like me) up...
The Simpsons Movie Teaser
As Dr Frink might say, "This film is headed straight for us! With the preview, and the midnight showing, and the hundred percent chance of PAIN! PAIN IN THE GLAVEN! Mwhey, hey."
As Dr Frink might say, "This film is headed straight for us! With the preview, and the midnight showing, and the hundred percent chance of PAIN! PAIN IN THE GLAVEN! Mwhey, hey."
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
"I'm sorry, but the position's full..."
"Sorry ah, only men after ORD we can accept..."
"Tadi pergi mane?"
"Get out!"
"No excuses, off the computer NOW!"
"Nonononononono! I don't care, no!"
"Kenape lambat?"
"I'm sorry, but the position's full..."
"Why you so blur?"
"Must come back before 7"
"Must come back before 6"
"Must come back NOW!"
"Now, I said!"
"Eleh, frustrated konon..."
"Sorry ah, only men after ORD we can accept..."
"You see lah, in the paper, this boy, you wasted lah..."
"Get lost!"
"No excuses, off the computer NOW!"
"20 years old? So?"
"Tadi pergi mane?"
"Where are you?"
"Go find job!"
"Where are you?"
"Go find job!"
"Where are you?"
"Go find job!"
"Where are you?"
"Go find job!"
"Where are you?"
"Go find job!"
"Where are you?"
"I'm sorry, but the position's full..."
"Sorry ah, only men after ORD we can accept..."
'snap'
"I don't want to feel this way anymore....."
"Sorry ah, only men after ORD we can accept..."
"Tadi pergi mane?"
"Get out!"
"No excuses, off the computer NOW!"
"Nonononononono! I don't care, no!"
"Kenape lambat?"
"I'm sorry, but the position's full..."
"Why you so blur?"
"Must come back before 7"
"Must come back before 6"
"Must come back NOW!"
"Now, I said!"
"Eleh, frustrated konon..."
"Sorry ah, only men after ORD we can accept..."
"You see lah, in the paper, this boy, you wasted lah..."
"Get lost!"
"No excuses, off the computer NOW!"
"20 years old? So?"
"Tadi pergi mane?"
"Where are you?"
"Go find job!"
"Where are you?"
"Go find job!"
"Where are you?"
"Go find job!"
"Where are you?"
"Go find job!"
"Where are you?"
"Go find job!"
"Where are you?"
"I'm sorry, but the position's full..."
"Sorry ah, only men after ORD we can accept..."
'snap'
"I don't want to feel this way anymore....."
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Dumb, dumb, dumb
I've got 2 new MySpace posts. A EotM, and a review of the new show on Channel 5.
Earworm of the Moment 2
Snark TV: My Name Is Earl
Anyway, I just wanna say that how the heck am I ever going to get a job if all those dumb employers only want men who's already ORD? I may not be too keen on actually working, but I'm desperately, oh-so-desperately broke!
'grumble'
I need my squeeze ball.
Earworm of the Moment 2
Snark TV: My Name Is Earl
Anyway, I just wanna say that how the heck am I ever going to get a job if all those dumb employers only want men who's already ORD? I may not be too keen on actually working, but I'm desperately, oh-so-desperately broke!
'grumble'
I need my squeeze ball.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
How does he do this?!
Super Mario Bros. used to be my favourite game ever. I love stomping on the Goombas and eating mushrooms and fighting my sister for the right to be Mario (Poor Luigi, left to be the sidekick nobody wants to be).
But after all these years, I've never beaten the game. Not once. And this guy (R. Yoshizawa AKA Pom) goes and does it in 5 freakin' minutes! Sure, he cheats here and there, but here's rule of thumb in computer games: if a bug can be exploited to your advantage, then exploit the &@*% out of that bug!
Enough bitter griping, here's the video.
But after all these years, I've never beaten the game. Not once. And this guy (R. Yoshizawa AKA Pom) goes and does it in 5 freakin' minutes! Sure, he cheats here and there, but here's rule of thumb in computer games: if a bug can be exploited to your advantage, then exploit the &@*% out of that bug!
Enough bitter griping, here's the video.
Earworm of the Moment
Double post today! This is the first.
Ok, the Earworm of the Moment is practically my only regular column subject here. And since it is music-related, I've decided to move it to my music (& movies & games & sometimes TV) review blog in MySpace. And since practically all of you are too content in Friendster to move to MySpace, hence the reason why all but two of my friends there are bands, I'm going to post any future EotM and other reviews to MySpace and link to there from this blog.
It's a hassle isn't it? So just join MySpace. It's getting a little lonely in there.
And now, my current Earworm of the Moment.
Ok, the Earworm of the Moment is practically my only regular column subject here. And since it is music-related, I've decided to move it to my music (& movies & games & sometimes TV) review blog in MySpace. And since practically all of you are too content in Friendster to move to MySpace, hence the reason why all but two of my friends there are bands, I'm going to post any future EotM and other reviews to MySpace and link to there from this blog.
It's a hassle isn't it? So just join MySpace. It's getting a little lonely in there.
And now, my current Earworm of the Moment.
Monday, March 27, 2006
Heartbreak by Friendster
Nice. I took my own bloody time and look what happens. I'm too late AGAIN! This makes number 3. And I didn't even need to ask her to find out she's taken.
I suppose this does save me the embarrasment of asking an unavailable girl out for a third time. But dang, don't it sting a little.
It looks like I'm going to stay away from curry for a while. Reminds me of her too much. Long story.
Ok, self-cheering up not working. I'll be fine, I'm not too sad about this. In fact, I'm afraid I might be getting used to this. Now I'm just going to sit here and do the usual lost-out-on-a-girlfriend moping and pigging out routine. Then in a week or sooner, I'll bounce back like nothing ever happens. That's me, my emotional wounds heal fast. Too fast for my liking.
I suppose this does save me the embarrasment of asking an unavailable girl out for a third time. But dang, don't it sting a little.
It looks like I'm going to stay away from curry for a while. Reminds me of her too much. Long story.
Ok, self-cheering up not working. I'll be fine, I'm not too sad about this. In fact, I'm afraid I might be getting used to this. Now I'm just going to sit here and do the usual lost-out-on-a-girlfriend moping and pigging out routine. Then in a week or sooner, I'll bounce back like nothing ever happens. That's me, my emotional wounds heal fast. Too fast for my liking.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Prom Nite
I do keep gushing on and on about how the YISS Prom Nite was the 2nd greatest night of my life, don't I? That's partly why I'm kinda disappointed at me not being able to go for the Ngee Ann ICT Prom Nite tonight, for obvious secret reasons.
Have fun, guys and gals who are going. And remember, guys, I didn't have to get laid for that night to be the 2nd greatest. ;)
It's the music, really. After all the cheesy stage performances, the plain hotel food, and even the 'asking my crush for her phone number' bit. The dance music is what I remember most from that night. And the cheesy dance moves. I wonder if the guy I poked in his eye ever recovered.
Have fun, guys and gals who are going. And remember, guys, I didn't have to get laid for that night to be the 2nd greatest. ;)
It's the music, really. After all the cheesy stage performances, the plain hotel food, and even the 'asking my crush for her phone number' bit. The dance music is what I remember most from that night. And the cheesy dance moves. I wonder if the guy I poked in his eye ever recovered.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Generic Title
Prior to last Friday's post, I hadn't been online at all for 3 weeks.
3 weeks.
Talk about cold turkey. It was like breathing properly again when I logged on last Friday. (Note to NPers who know me: my ID still works in the library.)
I suppose this means I'm a bonafide net @ddict. Would you believe I walked from my house all the way to Ngee Ann just to use a computer in the library? (Took 30 minute by the way, way shorter than I thought it would be.) As long as my dad remains stubborn and doesn't give me that modem back, it's gonna be like this for a while longer, I bet.
Shame really, I was starting to enjoy blogging more and more. There's so many things to do and say.
Ah well, best be looking for that job I guess. I've been putting it off for way too long to concentrate on that talent show. Gotta need money to do some, uh, stuff.
Gah, I hate boring posts.
3 weeks.
Talk about cold turkey. It was like breathing properly again when I logged on last Friday. (Note to NPers who know me: my ID still works in the library.)
I suppose this means I'm a bonafide net @ddict. Would you believe I walked from my house all the way to Ngee Ann just to use a computer in the library? (Took 30 minute by the way, way shorter than I thought it would be.) As long as my dad remains stubborn and doesn't give me that modem back, it's gonna be like this for a while longer, I bet.
Shame really, I was starting to enjoy blogging more and more. There's so many things to do and say.
Ah well, best be looking for that job I guess. I've been putting it off for way too long to concentrate on that talent show. Gotta need money to do some, uh, stuff.
Gah, I hate boring posts.
Friday, March 17, 2006
One fine day in Toa Payoh
Here, as best as I can manage from this faulty video tape recorder, is a transcript of what happened this morning at the 2nd round of Singapore Idol. (Top 500, biatch!)
(The Meesotofreak (MSF) enters the room. He is a picture of calm, peaceful and tranquil...oh, who are we kidding, he's nervous as hell, and doin an only marginal effort in hiding it. He stands right behind the Singapore Idol sticker on the floor as Dick, Florence, Jacintha and Ken (plus 5 crew members and a cameraman) looks on. The SSK waits for them to say something, then realises that it's upon him to introduce himself without being asked.)
MSF: Ahem, hem, hello, my name is (MSF) and, uh, I'm going to sing...
(He was planning to sing The Beatles' With A Little Help From My Friends, but in that split-second, he inexplicably forgotten the words. In the very next split second, he brought out his back-up song.)
MSF:...More Than Words by, ummm, Extreme. (spreads his right arm toward the judges) For the four of you.
(Laughter.)
Ken: Don't forget the other people in the room.
MSF: Oh, of course, for them too.
(A few seconds for the MSF to steady himself. He counts his fingers. Three, two, one...)
MSF: Saying I love you
Is not the words I want to hear from you
It’s not that I want you
Not to say, but if you only knew
How easy it would be to show me how you feel
More than words is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
Cos I’d already know
What would you do if my heart was torn in two
More than words to show you feel
That your love for me is real
What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldn’t make things new
Just by saying I love you
More than words
Now I’ve tried to talk to you and make you understand
All you have to do is close your eyes
And just reach out your hands and touch me
Hold me close don’t ever let me go
More than words is all I ever needed you to show
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
Cos I’d already know
(He sings the song with practiced bravado, every note cascading through the ears of everyone in the room, giving them warm feelings in their...again, let's not kid ourselves. It was always going to be below average, and the MSF knew it going in, but the nervenousness he tried to bury deep down came up and butcher his vocal chords and made the song even worse than he prayed it would not be. Self-concious he always was, and by the end of the song, he knew the golden ticket will not be his this day.
The MSF stops. The judges give their little smiles full of meanings that the MSF knew he wouldn't like. The judge from the left of the MSF started first.)
Dick: Okay, (MSF), I can say that you are definitely not a singer and probably would never be.
MSF: Ah, well, ok! (MSF grins. This was going exactly as he thought it would. Not that it hurt less.)
Florence: Yeah, and as for your presentation and style, I can say that it is an absoulute "NO" for me.
(MSF nods.)
Jacintha: And one problem I had is the way you moved one of your shoulders to your back. It doesn't look good at all.
(MSF had to grin at that. The old pose poser was bugging him all this while. He really should have practiced performing in front of a mirror.)
Ken: Actually, this is the first time I've ever seen a contestant emote using his eyebrows like that.
MSF: (here he bursts out laughing, for he hadn't noticed that) Really?!
Ken: Yes, it has little relevance here but still, it's there.
MSF: Well, heh, ok then, I gave it a shot! (turns and shows the room the peace sign) Cheers!
("Hm. I think I handled that quite well," the MSF thinks as he steps outside the door, to the cameras and the host waiting for my results, Daniel Ong. He walks out, sticking his thumbs down signifying his failed mission to get the golden ticket.)
Dan: Awwwwww, man! You didn't make it! What happened in there?
MSF: Well, in a nut shell, I wasn't good enough. (Dan nods in sympathy) I mean, I knew I wasn't good myself, I can hear it.
Dan: You knew you weren't good?
MSF: Yeah, I sounded way too nervous.
Dan: So, so how did you feel in there? Were you nervous in there?
MSF: Actually, not at all. I don't know why, I'm usually not so nervous in front of strangers, like for example with you, I'm talking to you right now, and I'm not so nervous...
Dan: Yeah, you sound alright, man!
MSF: Yeah, thanks.
Dan: So what are you planning to do after this?
MSF: Well, right now, um, I'm waiting for my NS...
Dan: Oh, you're waiting for your NS?
MSF: Yeah, and after that, I plan to, uh, enter Ngee Ann Polytechnic and enter the, um, Mass Comm.
Dan: Yeah, yeah, that's good! At least you have a direction. Ok, since you're going to NS, I have a suggestion for you.
MSF: Mmhmm?
Dan: The MDC, Music & Dance Company. You can sing, act, dance there while serving the nation.
MSF: I can server the nation and entertain people.
Dan: There you go! Alright, all the best, and good luck with your future!
MSF: Thanks, Dan.
(The crowd claps after this little interview. MSF and Dan shakes hands, and MSF moves on, grabbing his bag, and letting himself be led toward the confessional.)
There you go. I'd just like to say that I had a blast auditioning there. I was glad to have the chance to finally meet the judges. Too bad I couldn't get them to say what I wanted them to say. Yup, no regrets about this. Though I might change my mind about that when the show starts airing.
I'll issue this little warning: I was given the opportunity to "stand out" while waiting in the holding area. Ain't saying what it is, yet. But unless something even more funny/horrific happens to blow it out of the water, I'm pretty certain that would make it on air. And if that makes it on air, probably the scene I just transcribed up there would be aired too.
All in all, a disappointing day, but not that much.
(The Meesotofreak (MSF) enters the room. He is a picture of calm, peaceful and tranquil...oh, who are we kidding, he's nervous as hell, and doin an only marginal effort in hiding it. He stands right behind the Singapore Idol sticker on the floor as Dick, Florence, Jacintha and Ken (plus 5 crew members and a cameraman) looks on. The SSK waits for them to say something, then realises that it's upon him to introduce himself without being asked.)
MSF: Ahem, hem, hello, my name is (MSF) and, uh, I'm going to sing...
(He was planning to sing The Beatles' With A Little Help From My Friends, but in that split-second, he inexplicably forgotten the words. In the very next split second, he brought out his back-up song.)
MSF:...More Than Words by, ummm, Extreme. (spreads his right arm toward the judges) For the four of you.
(Laughter.)
Ken: Don't forget the other people in the room.
MSF: Oh, of course, for them too.
(A few seconds for the MSF to steady himself. He counts his fingers. Three, two, one...)
MSF: Saying I love you
Is not the words I want to hear from you
It’s not that I want you
Not to say, but if you only knew
How easy it would be to show me how you feel
More than words is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
Cos I’d already know
What would you do if my heart was torn in two
More than words to show you feel
That your love for me is real
What would you say if I took those words away
Then you couldn’t make things new
Just by saying I love you
More than words
Now I’ve tried to talk to you and make you understand
All you have to do is close your eyes
And just reach out your hands and touch me
Hold me close don’t ever let me go
More than words is all I ever needed you to show
Then you wouldn’t have to say that you love me
Cos I’d already know
(He sings the song with practiced bravado, every note cascading through the ears of everyone in the room, giving them warm feelings in their...again, let's not kid ourselves. It was always going to be below average, and the MSF knew it going in, but the nervenousness he tried to bury deep down came up and butcher his vocal chords and made the song even worse than he prayed it would not be. Self-concious he always was, and by the end of the song, he knew the golden ticket will not be his this day.
The MSF stops. The judges give their little smiles full of meanings that the MSF knew he wouldn't like. The judge from the left of the MSF started first.)
Dick: Okay, (MSF), I can say that you are definitely not a singer and probably would never be.
MSF: Ah, well, ok! (MSF grins. This was going exactly as he thought it would. Not that it hurt less.)
Florence: Yeah, and as for your presentation and style, I can say that it is an absoulute "NO" for me.
(MSF nods.)
Jacintha: And one problem I had is the way you moved one of your shoulders to your back. It doesn't look good at all.
(MSF had to grin at that. The old pose poser was bugging him all this while. He really should have practiced performing in front of a mirror.)
Ken: Actually, this is the first time I've ever seen a contestant emote using his eyebrows like that.
MSF: (here he bursts out laughing, for he hadn't noticed that) Really?!
Ken: Yes, it has little relevance here but still, it's there.
MSF: Well, heh, ok then, I gave it a shot! (turns and shows the room the peace sign) Cheers!
("Hm. I think I handled that quite well," the MSF thinks as he steps outside the door, to the cameras and the host waiting for my results, Daniel Ong. He walks out, sticking his thumbs down signifying his failed mission to get the golden ticket.)
Dan: Awwwwww, man! You didn't make it! What happened in there?
MSF: Well, in a nut shell, I wasn't good enough. (Dan nods in sympathy) I mean, I knew I wasn't good myself, I can hear it.
Dan: You knew you weren't good?
MSF: Yeah, I sounded way too nervous.
Dan: So, so how did you feel in there? Were you nervous in there?
MSF: Actually, not at all. I don't know why, I'm usually not so nervous in front of strangers, like for example with you, I'm talking to you right now, and I'm not so nervous...
Dan: Yeah, you sound alright, man!
MSF: Yeah, thanks.
Dan: So what are you planning to do after this?
MSF: Well, right now, um, I'm waiting for my NS...
Dan: Oh, you're waiting for your NS?
MSF: Yeah, and after that, I plan to, uh, enter Ngee Ann Polytechnic and enter the, um, Mass Comm.
Dan: Yeah, yeah, that's good! At least you have a direction. Ok, since you're going to NS, I have a suggestion for you.
MSF: Mmhmm?
Dan: The MDC, Music & Dance Company. You can sing, act, dance there while serving the nation.
MSF: I can server the nation and entertain people.
Dan: There you go! Alright, all the best, and good luck with your future!
MSF: Thanks, Dan.
(The crowd claps after this little interview. MSF and Dan shakes hands, and MSF moves on, grabbing his bag, and letting himself be led toward the confessional.)
There you go. I'd just like to say that I had a blast auditioning there. I was glad to have the chance to finally meet the judges. Too bad I couldn't get them to say what I wanted them to say. Yup, no regrets about this. Though I might change my mind about that when the show starts airing.
I'll issue this little warning: I was given the opportunity to "stand out" while waiting in the holding area. Ain't saying what it is, yet. But unless something even more funny/horrific happens to blow it out of the water, I'm pretty certain that would make it on air. And if that makes it on air, probably the scene I just transcribed up there would be aired too.
All in all, a disappointing day, but not that much.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
In Technorati today....
NYP
Not how Nanyang Polytechnic wants to portray itself to the world, eh?
I thought of not saying anything, then I realised that I'm a blabbermouth and I'll say it anyway.
Not saying I would do something like this, but if I wanted to film myself doing something that I do not want anybody but myself and a select few to see (like say, the Napolean dance), I'd film it, immediately put it in the computer hard drive with the modem off, then erase it from my video cam.
Alas, dear girl whose name I would not mention to give her some respect and dignity, you didn't do that, someone stole your phone, and male geeks all over the world find themselves feeling something they seldom ever feel. You say you're proud of it, and it's arty (believe me, dearie, it's not art, it's simply amateurish). But I know you don't want this whole thing to happen in the first place.
And oh yes, she has a point. This is no isolated incident. People are bonking outside marriage left or right, with some filming the deed. Just something I hear throught the grapevine.
I'm not judging. Some say they should be punished for bonking each other outside marriage. Some are decrying the state of the youth (as usual). Some are saying they're just expressing their love on tape for them to share and are just plain unlucky. (BTW, notice that the heat is on the girl. Just like Paris, Pamela and 95% of all the dirty tapes out there. The attention's always on the girl. Makes you think, doesn't it?)
What I think? I think that if we have to focus our ever decreasing attention on a trivial news item, we focus it on, say, the highest "non-sex tape-NYP-unwilling porn star" query in Technorati, Origami.
Ah, the simple pleasures of folding pieces of paper into beautiful swans.
Not how Nanyang Polytechnic wants to portray itself to the world, eh?
I thought of not saying anything, then I realised that I'm a blabbermouth and I'll say it anyway.
Not saying I would do something like this, but if I wanted to film myself doing something that I do not want anybody but myself and a select few to see (like say, the Napolean dance), I'd film it, immediately put it in the computer hard drive with the modem off, then erase it from my video cam.
Alas, dear girl whose name I would not mention to give her some respect and dignity, you didn't do that, someone stole your phone, and male geeks all over the world find themselves feeling something they seldom ever feel. You say you're proud of it, and it's arty (believe me, dearie, it's not art, it's simply amateurish). But I know you don't want this whole thing to happen in the first place.
And oh yes, she has a point. This is no isolated incident. People are bonking outside marriage left or right, with some filming the deed. Just something I hear throught the grapevine.
I'm not judging. Some say they should be punished for bonking each other outside marriage. Some are decrying the state of the youth (as usual). Some are saying they're just expressing their love on tape for them to share and are just plain unlucky. (BTW, notice that the heat is on the girl. Just like Paris, Pamela and 95% of all the dirty tapes out there. The attention's always on the girl. Makes you think, doesn't it?)
What I think? I think that if we have to focus our ever decreasing attention on a trivial news item, we focus it on, say, the highest "non-sex tape-NYP-unwilling porn star" query in Technorati, Origami.
Ah, the simple pleasures of folding pieces of paper into beautiful swans.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
To the sis and the cuz...
What can I say? I'm fighting for her attention.
Anyway, point duly noted. Fine, I'll stop. But the least YOU could do, dear sister, is wish me a Happy Birthday in YOUR blog.
Anyway, Mom's birthday gift? OK Computer. Specifically, she gave me the money to buy OK Computer myself, but it's HER money, so it's technically HER gift.
Goodbye, teenage years. It's been swell.
Anyway, point duly noted. Fine, I'll stop. But the least YOU could do, dear sister, is wish me a Happy Birthday in YOUR blog.
Anyway, Mom's birthday gift? OK Computer. Specifically, she gave me the money to buy OK Computer myself, but it's HER money, so it's technically HER gift.
Goodbye, teenage years. It's been swell.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
define: me
3 ways to do that.
No. 1 :
No. 2 (I like this one.):
And finally, No. 3:
No. 1 :
Mohamed Hafiz -- [noun]: A hermit living in the big city 'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com |
No. 2 (I like this one.):
Meesotofreak -- [adjective]: Sexually stunning 'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com |
And finally, No. 3:
sm4113r -- [noun]: A deadly strain of projectiile vomit 'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com |
Monday, February 20, 2006
The Seven Year Itch
To some, birthdays are something to cherish. You're another year older, another year wiser. Another year till you can watch Brokeback Mountain in cinemas legally. To some others, mostly those above 30, birthdays are days to piss on and forget. Another year, another grey hair. "OMG, I'm too young to qualify for senior citizens concessions!" To the rest: Birthdays? Who the bleep cares? Just another day, like that dumb Valentine's "holiday".
But the next 2 birthdays for me are important. 21 is of course when society at large will view me as a man. On paper at least. But this year, I turn 20. End of my teenage years.
Man, were they wasted.
I spent the first years still playing the good boy and the loner, the later years trying too hard to make up for it. Life's tough for the former anti-social geek in denial, huh?
Anyway, I turn 20 this Friday the 24th, and as usual, I'll probably celebrate it by watching a movie. And a dinner from my parents.
And if you'll allow me to be a little emo, no, it will probably not be a "Happy" birthday. I'll act it, sure, but in the back of my mind, I know that I'm overweight, gaining more and too lazy to get my butt down to some push-ups, every job interview is a bust, I owe Ernie 23 bucks I don't have, I'm more than likely to make a damn fool of myself in front of the whole nation next month, my dad STILL hasn't forgiven me, a possible torrid time in NS awaits me AND my future is looking bleak.
My life is not boring anymore, I'll give it that.
But the future's the future. Next month is next month. This week, I'm going to try to make my last days as a teenager and my first days as a young adult count for something.
For one thing, my hair is crying for some professional help. For another, my hard drive needs more rock/dance/Beatles songs.
That's enough hinting. Have a good week. I hope I do.
But the next 2 birthdays for me are important. 21 is of course when society at large will view me as a man. On paper at least. But this year, I turn 20. End of my teenage years.
Man, were they wasted.
I spent the first years still playing the good boy and the loner, the later years trying too hard to make up for it. Life's tough for the former anti-social geek in denial, huh?
Anyway, I turn 20 this Friday the 24th, and as usual, I'll probably celebrate it by watching a movie. And a dinner from my parents.
And if you'll allow me to be a little emo, no, it will probably not be a "Happy" birthday. I'll act it, sure, but in the back of my mind, I know that I'm overweight, gaining more and too lazy to get my butt down to some push-ups, every job interview is a bust, I owe Ernie 23 bucks I don't have, I'm more than likely to make a damn fool of myself in front of the whole nation next month, my dad STILL hasn't forgiven me, a possible torrid time in NS awaits me AND my future is looking bleak.
My life is not boring anymore, I'll give it that.
But the future's the future. Next month is next month. This week, I'm going to try to make my last days as a teenager and my first days as a young adult count for something.
For one thing, my hair is crying for some professional help. For another, my hard drive needs more rock/dance/Beatles songs.
That's enough hinting. Have a good week. I hope I do.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
'Sigh'
I suppose I should touch on that thing above here sooner or later, huh?
Well, what else can I say? I came, I sang, I inexplicably conquered. It should be one of the highlights of my life so far.
Yet it's not.
Unlike perhaps some of my fellow contestants, I am well aware of how I did in that audition room. And it wasn't THAT good. Yet I made it. Why? Because I have the H Factor (H for Hung)? I don't get it. The people who queued with me, all of them were way better than I am.
Must be that little dance I did. Must be.
Ah well, now I have a month to prepare. A month to think up comebacks to Dick's sarcastic remarks and compliments to Florence. Oh, and there's that whole singing thing. There are a few rules on that piece of paper I should adhere, like the wear the exact same clothes rule. The only rule you guys should know is the "Bring a minimum of 5 friends/family members, maximum 30" rule. So I'll be asking around, ok?
For the record, the names of the people I queued up with were Desmond, Diyana, Edleen, Elsa and Faisal, plus an Indian guy whose name I can't remember for the life of me. I'd look out for Desmond and Elsa if I were you, the former for his personality and disturbing fondness for pink, the latter simply for her incredible singing voice.
What, no knee-cap bashing?
After several years and several more e-mails from me to MediaCorp and Starhub, we FINALLY get the Winter Olympics on the tube. Why do I want the Winter Olympics? Sure, running and swimming are cool and all, but this is a fan of the movie Cool Running you're talking to here.
Granted, all I've heard about the Winter Games are the aforementioned movie (Jamaican bobsled team, mon!), Eddie the Eagle (let's call him the William Hung of Ski Jumping, shall we?) and the whole Tonya Harding-Sarah Kerrigan thing (PS. It's better to kick ass on the skating rink than to, you know, bash knee-caps in a jealous rage). But it's a chance to see all the games that we in the tropics are missing out. Doesn't help that that skating rink in Jurong is WAY under Olympic standards. Floorball is pretty similar to Ice Hockey, so I'll be following that. Figure Skating is practically THE event everyone's watching, so of course I'm watching that too. Pretty slick moves from that Plushenko guy, huh?
Or like the sport I saw last night, Snowboard Cross. 4 guys/girls sliding down on snowboards down a winding hill. The women's finals was one of the best sporting moments I've ever seen, quite frankly. The 2 Canadians and the American were the favourites, but one Canadian wiped out early on, followed later by the other, who flew right through the fence and knocking herself out cold in the snow, pun fully intended. The American proceeded to then increase her lead from her remaining Swiss opponent. Near the finish line, she showboated for the fans by jumping and grabbing the board...and wiped out, leaving the Swiss to steal the victory.
Races like that are why I watch the Olympics, Summer or Winter.
I'm still confused as to why people see sliding rocks across ice as a sport though.
Granted, all I've heard about the Winter Games are the aforementioned movie (Jamaican bobsled team, mon!), Eddie the Eagle (let's call him the William Hung of Ski Jumping, shall we?) and the whole Tonya Harding-Sarah Kerrigan thing (PS. It's better to kick ass on the skating rink than to, you know, bash knee-caps in a jealous rage). But it's a chance to see all the games that we in the tropics are missing out. Doesn't help that that skating rink in Jurong is WAY under Olympic standards. Floorball is pretty similar to Ice Hockey, so I'll be following that. Figure Skating is practically THE event everyone's watching, so of course I'm watching that too. Pretty slick moves from that Plushenko guy, huh?
Or like the sport I saw last night, Snowboard Cross. 4 guys/girls sliding down on snowboards down a winding hill. The women's finals was one of the best sporting moments I've ever seen, quite frankly. The 2 Canadians and the American were the favourites, but one Canadian wiped out early on, followed later by the other, who flew right through the fence and knocking herself out cold in the snow, pun fully intended. The American proceeded to then increase her lead from her remaining Swiss opponent. Near the finish line, she showboated for the fans by jumping and grabbing the board...and wiped out, leaving the Swiss to steal the victory.
Races like that are why I watch the Olympics, Summer or Winter.
I'm still confused as to why people see sliding rocks across ice as a sport though.
Monday, February 06, 2006
"Hi, I'm Lucifer, and I'll be your dentist for today."
Ok, confession time: There was a point in Primary Six where I didn't brush my teeth once for 8 months. That's it, let out all your "ewwws". If there's a great example of long-term damage, it's my teeth. Up until 2 days ago, half my teeth were caked in dried plaque (calculus). I'd give you pictures, but young kiddies read this blog, so I won't.
So of course, I went to the Bukit Batok Polyclinic and entered the dentist's torture roo...I mean, office, and sat down on the chair. (Wonder how many young boys and girls met their grisly doom on it?) The dentist was nice and cordial to me, but then again, evil lurks in many disguises. I opened my mouth, and in that sarcastic way only a dentist could achieve, marvelled at how alive the hills of my teeth were with the sound of bacteria lunching on my gums.
BTW, the drill? It exists. And man, did it do a number on my poor mistreated (by me) teeth. With the drill and the small mirror and an air tube to flush away the excess calculus (For an extra crunch to your life, try Fiz's Calculus du jourTM. Now in two flavours: Mee Goreng and Mee Soto!) I'm not kidding when I say it sounded like a construction site in there. All the while, the good doctor tsk tsked about the state of my gums and wondered what on Earth did I do with my toothbrush? Brush my eyebrows? He worked on the top and bottom row which took 15 minutes each. The front teeth in the bottom row was especially sensitive, I nearly jumped out of the chair. By that time, I was asking the good Lord to smite this evil dentist. Finally, he let me out, allowing me to rinse away the blood and calculus (lots and LOTS of calculus) from my mouth to the little sink. Hmmm, blood offerings maybe?
Finally, the nightmare was over. But not quite yet! The devil's last trick? When his assistant (his sinfully cute assistant) handed me the bill: $45.50!
That's it, I'm brushing my teeth 3 times a day now. No way I'm going through that experience again!
On the flipside, my teeth has never looked better.
So of course, I went to the Bukit Batok Polyclinic and entered the dentist's torture roo...I mean, office, and sat down on the chair. (Wonder how many young boys and girls met their grisly doom on it?) The dentist was nice and cordial to me, but then again, evil lurks in many disguises. I opened my mouth, and in that sarcastic way only a dentist could achieve, marvelled at how alive the hills of my teeth were with the sound of bacteria lunching on my gums.
BTW, the drill? It exists. And man, did it do a number on my poor mistreated (by me) teeth. With the drill and the small mirror and an air tube to flush away the excess calculus (For an extra crunch to your life, try Fiz's Calculus du jourTM. Now in two flavours: Mee Goreng and Mee Soto!) I'm not kidding when I say it sounded like a construction site in there. All the while, the good doctor tsk tsked about the state of my gums and wondered what on Earth did I do with my toothbrush? Brush my eyebrows? He worked on the top and bottom row which took 15 minutes each. The front teeth in the bottom row was especially sensitive, I nearly jumped out of the chair. By that time, I was asking the good Lord to smite this evil dentist. Finally, he let me out, allowing me to rinse away the blood and calculus (lots and LOTS of calculus) from my mouth to the little sink. Hmmm, blood offerings maybe?
Finally, the nightmare was over. But not quite yet! The devil's last trick? When his assistant (his sinfully cute assistant) handed me the bill: $45.50!
That's it, I'm brushing my teeth 3 times a day now. No way I'm going through that experience again!
On the flipside, my teeth has never looked better.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Free! Free!
Free speech is a nice ideal. The freedom to say anything without the fear of some stern looking people grabbing you and never be seen again. But the Singapore Government is right, unlimited free speech is dangerous.
Take this whole Prophet Mohammmad cartoon situation. A Danish newspaper showed some cartoons showing the Prophet as a terrorist. Naturally, Muslims are mad, so murderously so, for no images of the Prophet are allowed, not one. You know those pictures of Jesus, showing him until he looks like a divine God himself? That's why no images are allowed, for Prophet Mohammad is, for all his importance in human history and his achievements, just a man. Same for Jesus (Isa), Moses (Musa), Abraham (Isa) and so forth. No deifying humans allowed, just God Himself.
So fine, the Muslims complain, the Danish newspaper apologises. For me, the people behind the cartoons showed a total lack of judgement here. Maybe they're too used to lampooning Jesus? So what's making fun of another religious figurehead? But really, you can't blame them. "Forgive them, for they know not what they do" or something like that. So why boycott Danish products? One Danish newspaper does not speak for ALL of Denmark. Besides, their ice cream is way too good.
Now those other European newspapers, they knew EXACTLY what they were doing putting those cartoons on the front pages. All in the name of free speech, they say. Nothing to stop non-Muslims from making or publishing those images, they say. So much for respecting other religions, I say. They should understand that unlike most people in the West, Muslims are by their very nature conservative, some of them ultra-conservative. No way in hell will a Monty Python and the Life of Mohammad ever be made without some cinemas being torched. The editors of those newspapers, by stubbornly protecting their ideals of free press, are ignoring the fact they're being tactless and ignoring the beliefs of a sizable chunk of the world population by doing so. And I'm sure we all know the real reason why they're doing this.
Nothing like a controversial story like this to spike up readership numbers, eh?
Hmmm, I wonder how this post would do in the A Level General Paper exam...
Take this whole Prophet Mohammmad cartoon situation. A Danish newspaper showed some cartoons showing the Prophet as a terrorist. Naturally, Muslims are mad, so murderously so, for no images of the Prophet are allowed, not one. You know those pictures of Jesus, showing him until he looks like a divine God himself? That's why no images are allowed, for Prophet Mohammad is, for all his importance in human history and his achievements, just a man. Same for Jesus (Isa), Moses (Musa), Abraham (Isa) and so forth. No deifying humans allowed, just God Himself.
So fine, the Muslims complain, the Danish newspaper apologises. For me, the people behind the cartoons showed a total lack of judgement here. Maybe they're too used to lampooning Jesus? So what's making fun of another religious figurehead? But really, you can't blame them. "Forgive them, for they know not what they do" or something like that. So why boycott Danish products? One Danish newspaper does not speak for ALL of Denmark. Besides, their ice cream is way too good.
Now those other European newspapers, they knew EXACTLY what they were doing putting those cartoons on the front pages. All in the name of free speech, they say. Nothing to stop non-Muslims from making or publishing those images, they say. So much for respecting other religions, I say. They should understand that unlike most people in the West, Muslims are by their very nature conservative, some of them ultra-conservative. No way in hell will a Monty Python and the Life of Mohammad ever be made without some cinemas being torched. The editors of those newspapers, by stubbornly protecting their ideals of free press, are ignoring the fact they're being tactless and ignoring the beliefs of a sizable chunk of the world population by doing so. And I'm sure we all know the real reason why they're doing this.
Nothing like a controversial story like this to spike up readership numbers, eh?
Hmmm, I wonder how this post would do in the A Level General Paper exam...
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Lovely to be back...
Well, just got back from KL. Sure would've loved to spend more time there. But of course, most of our time in Malaysia was spent looking for my dad's cousin and driving (and driving) to Cameron Highlands. Did you know that the time it takes to drive up the hill towards the Strawberry farm there takes the same time as going from my house to Changi Airport? Just a heads-up if you're thinking of getting some fresh strawberries there.
I have to admit though, the tea plantation was just about the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
Here are the pics from the trip. Try not to "AWWW" too much when you see my dad's cousin's kids. (What do you call THAT, then?)
In other news: Friendster really is a great thing. It's how I keep contact with most of my old friends. It's how I even stumbled across long-lost primary school classmates. But honestly, it's slow and getting kinda boring there.
So, being the expert bandwagon jumper that I am, I'm going to join MySpace. Amazing how it turned from a third-rate Friendster wannabe to the 7th most visited site on the World Wide Web. Must be doing something right. It's fast-loading, it looks great, it even has rock bands with accounts, which unlike Friendster, some of them are actually owned by the bands themselves.
So why am I announcing this? Well, of course, like Friendster, I'm going to need some friends there. But of course, since I keep refusing all those invites to Multiply my other friends keep sending me, you all might not be so receptive to my invites to join MySpace. So, I'm just going to have ask personally, one by one, if any of you would be interested to join yet another social site. It's much better than just sending those impersonal emails.
I have to admit though, the tea plantation was just about the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
Here are the pics from the trip. Try not to "AWWW" too much when you see my dad's cousin's kids. (What do you call THAT, then?)
In other news: Friendster really is a great thing. It's how I keep contact with most of my old friends. It's how I even stumbled across long-lost primary school classmates. But honestly, it's slow and getting kinda boring there.
So, being the expert bandwagon jumper that I am, I'm going to join MySpace. Amazing how it turned from a third-rate Friendster wannabe to the 7th most visited site on the World Wide Web. Must be doing something right. It's fast-loading, it looks great, it even has rock bands with accounts, which unlike Friendster, some of them are actually owned by the bands themselves.
So why am I announcing this? Well, of course, like Friendster, I'm going to need some friends there. But of course, since I keep refusing all those invites to Multiply my other friends keep sending me, you all might not be so receptive to my invites to join MySpace. So, I'm just going to have ask personally, one by one, if any of you would be interested to join yet another social site. It's much better than just sending those impersonal emails.
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