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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

define: me

3 ways to do that.

No. 1 :

Mohamed Hafiz -- [noun]: A hermit living in the big city 'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

You can find me in my makeshift hut behind Ngee Ann City.

No. 2 (I like this one.):

Meesotofreak -- [adjective]: Sexually stunning 'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Warning: Reading this blog may lead to loss of saliva control due to my undeniable sexuality.

And finally, No. 3:

sm4113r -- [noun]: A deadly strain of projectiile vomit 'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

The sort you see in The Exorcist.

AAAAHHH!!!!

Now, isn't this both the cutest AND the scariest (beep)ing thing you've ever seen?

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.

'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.

"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.

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...

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.

A very muddy city

It's beginning to be a tradition. Every Chinese New Year for the past 4 years, me and the family goes on a road trip to Malaysia. Usually it's to Kuala Lumpur, with the occasional detour through Malacca, and one time, Port Dickson. Nothing wrong with that, I love Kuala Lumpur. It's exactly what I thought a big city would be like. Crowded, dirty, people not giving a (beep) about courtesy. I'm strange that way. This year's trip may actually be a whole lot better than our last trip, back in May. It was spoiled by the fact that Star Wars Episode III was opening in that very same time, yet I couldn't go for the opening, because my parents would rather shop for clothes you could easily find at Orchard Road!

But since there's nothing else I would rather do this week (besides Police Academy on Channel 5, which I will sadly miss), may as well be in KL. The towers, the Times Square, the Petaling Street with the shoes and the gropers. Some people don't like it in that city. Some people are wimps.

I can't wait to go to the Ultimate Big City. You know, the one so nice, they named it twice.

In closing, two words: Arctic Monkeys. w00t!

Is this forgetfulness?

Last Monday, I see the modem, sitting there, connected to the computer. Waiting to be used and abused by me. I just assumed dear ole Dad forgot to take it away.

Well, it's been 6 days, and it's still here.

Dad doesn't forgive easily, so what's he up to? Bah, I shouldn't be so cynical. The modem's here, so I'll just carry on using it for as long as it remains here.

So what do I do the whole Saturday morning? Catch up on the Lost episodes from Season 2 I haven't watched, up to and including the most recent one (11th episode).

All without any breakfast yet, so if you don't mind, I'll go stuff myself with some bread.

About some Malays, from a Malay

I wish I was intelligent enough to articulate the problem with some of the younger Malays out there. You know, the Mats and the Minahs. This is one reason why I'm glad I have the parents that I do have, I can say what I want about them, but they did raise me and my sister properly enough not to be one of those people.

Anyway, I'll let this guy say more about this.

For the record, I don't hate them. I can be friends with the less, um, "Mat"-ish of them, if I haven't already. That's just me. But I can't stand the fact that the public opinion of others regarding young Malays are based on those bunch of people who I'm not so sure is a small minority of Malays.

Like that Mat I saw in bus 61 a few months back, yelling, cursing and nearly punching the bus driver who simply called him on using some one else's student pass. I mean, his dress sense was bad enough...

Ok, no more hatin'. I'll just get another grey hair.