Thursday, March 31, 2005
My mother used to tell me, 'If your friends asked you to go jump into the ocean, you would'. And that's how I turned out. Just that my friends haven't asked me to jump into the ocean yet. But I think that's just how my friends like me. I am very easily persuaded. Especially by women. And tonight was no different. Sam took me to dinner, saying chicken rice and salted vegetable soup was just the tonic for a long day at work, and I agreed, even though I knew that she was just hankering for chicken rice and not really concerned about what was really good for me. Then we browsed round the shops, not really looking for anything, but coming across a nice pair of shoes she said she thought she wanted, and which she bought, and which she persuaded me to buy a pair of for myself. Then we browsed some more, not looking for anything else, but coming across the shop that sold Havaianas slippers, where she picked out the pair of slippers identical to the ones she had, and persuaded me to buy a pair for myself. Same pair of shoes, same pair of slippers, but I'm not worried this would lead to something. It's not as if it's as permanent as a tattoo, which I have one, and which is identical to one someone else has, because that someone else persuaded me to have the same one. Nope. Don't mean a thing. Just like when someone else told me some time ago, 'hey, you should start a blog'. 'l like the pair you have but you should get the pair I have', Sam said
Surf stop: Expat@LargeTag: Havaianas
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
UFOs destroy My Very Own Glob
I was trawling through my statcounter's referrer stats and discovered that someone doesn't like something that's been written here, and has set this thingamajig to send UFOs to destroy my blog. He or she even set the Destruction Level to 'Massive' too! Nabeh! Basket! Vart have I done to deserve this? I am a saint! I nair say bad things bout nobardy! National Arts Council's Sexyblogger Updated: The culprits are here and here, instigated by Minishorts.
Surf stop: David Lok's Blog
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Newsradio 938, late breaking news, but not too late, because we close at midnight
My big fat grapevine tells me not much happened in the newsroom at Mediamonopolycorp's Newsradio 938 last night when news broke of the earthquake, so I've had to fill in the blanks a little:
Eh, so how ah, go where eat supper? Dunno leh, every day eat Newton sian leh. *Beep Beep* Eh, my friend SMS say building shake, ask whether got earthquake or not? Har? Earthquake? *Beep Beep* Yah, another one just SMS'd me. Quick, turn on tv. *press press... flicker flicker... CNA comes on and shows live report* Oh no. Really. Earthquake. So how? Wait, I check. *dial dial... buzz buzz... mumble mumble... nod nod...* Manager/Producer say no point, we close shop liao, let CNA do the story. OK, so how ah, go where eat supper? Newton lah, where else. Eh, I ask you ah, you renew road tax got pay the radio license or not ah?I also say. Give the $110 (tv licence) and $27 (car radio licence) to be placed in a bloggers' fund, because at least some bloggers bother to risk life and limb to bring you the news. (link via mr brown via lancerlord). Auntie, the teh-O too hot, burn my tongue. See lah?
Surf stop: Abigael
Didn't know that didja? Part II
My friend who was asking me all those questions yesterday leads such an interesting life, travelling all over the world, meeting really interesting people and having conversations with them. I will be writing about her encounters with Bali beach boys and NGO volunteers who work as hotel chauffeurs to fund their NGO activities. But the hour, it is late, and I have to clock-in at the factory early tomorrow morning. Why is the hour late? Because my friend called earlier to tell me she just realised there was this little known language or Creole known as Papia Kristang, which apparently is spoken in Malacca and Singapore:
Cristão (or Papiá Kristang or simply papia, i.e. language in archaic Portuguese) is a Creole language based in Portuguese spoken in Malacca, Malaysia and in Singapore.And, we also had an argument about how 'barrage' was pronounced in 'Marina Barrage'. She called it 'barrage', as in a 'barrage of artillery fire', while I called it 'barridge' as in 'barridge rhymes with porridge'. And because we liked talking to each other so much, we took a long time before we decided to settle the argument with a look up at dictionary.com. I was right, as expected, but neither of us had watched the news on the telly to know how CNA and Channel 5 presenters pronounced the word. Then we went back to talking about the Portuguese and she said, 'how come we don't know that many Portuguese?' I said, 'Gort! We have Vernetta Lopez and all the other Eurasians on telly and radio, and we have the de Souzas and the D'Almeidas, who made their fortune harvesting gutta-percha which was used to insulate telegraph wires'. Then my friend got sleepy and said, 'hey, let's talk again tomorrow, do you know where I can get good Peranakan food? I don't, cos I no longer have a finger on the pulse of the nation'. I'll have her finger on my pulse! I couldn't turn down his impassioned plea, so Vicnan, you're it: If I try very, very hard, I can adjust my spectacles with my tongue
Surf stop: gleefully's xanga site
Monday, March 28, 2005
Dam the barrage
For a slow Monday morning: Some computer program says Mr Miyagi writes this blog like a pop-novelist. Nabeh, I high-brow ok? The folks at SquareBrain.net have given several blogs a whirl on the machine, and have given them some sort of ranking. I dunno how those rankings work. A bit like how NUS is the 18th ranked uni in the wurl. You will find this totally unrelated, but it's funny how there are so many things one doesn't notice about Singapore until one's friend comes back from overseas, and asks, 'what on earth is a marina barrage?', and one tells them, 'erm, is like a dam, to catch water, pump seawater out, make it freshwater, and people can play watersports'. That was my best paraphrase of all the CNA reports about the barrage. Then she asked more pressing questions, like, 'Do you remember them ever mentioning anything about a barrage? How come all of a sudden got barrage? How come no discussion, no debate, nothing?' My best analysis about why it was like that was, 'Cos it's not like it's a casino or the gays cause aids issue, so it doesn't concern us socially, so no need to ask who got awarded the tender to design and build the thing lah, who runs the thing lah, y'know?' Then my friend took out her camera to show me really nice pictures of the places she's visited on her long stint abroad. More scintillating manner of writing, can?
Surf stop: Air
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Because both Mandrake and Cowboy are openly smitten by Lynn's scintillating manner of writing, I shan't be shy about it either. In her latest post, which seems to be the first in a series, she talks about what really happens in the hallowed residential halls of NUS (National U-Nair-Study of Singapore). I believe sex will be involved. So go there with your antennae pricked and tune in. I know it's been written about before, can? But Lynn's got a scintillating manner of writing, can? Can see or not? The scintillating manner of writing?
Surf stop: Trivial Triflings of an Aimless AKK
iTunes' party shuffle is playing a copy of: Funny Face - Yehudi Menuhin & Stephane Grappelli - Menuhin & Grappelli Play Gershwin, of which I have the original CD and therefore didn't steal music.
Saturday, March 26, 2005
Better have the handsfree attached when Steph Song calls
Cowboy Caleb sez 'be consistent in your content' or something or other. And while I hardly ever apologize for the content of this glob, I've been told that the very thing that draws people here is the fact that I drop names and pictures of famous people (even Cowboy's taken to this, though I think he likes Cheryl Fox 'cos she's got a porn star name) and gossip about them, and lately I haven't been doing that enough. So, here 'tis: This morning, while I'm driving a doe, a deer, a very attractive female friend, someone calls on the mobile while I don't have the handsfree attached and it's Steph Song! I hear a whole bunch of expletives, and decide, ok, this one important, better put on handsfree:
You little shit! MISTER MIYAGI eh? My friend emailed me the link to your blog!, said Miss Song, calling all the way from L.A. and not looking a day over 25. But it's a blog, and the readers know not everything here is true, and they'll believe what they want to believe anyway, and they probably believe I don't really know Steph Song! Fuck, of course they wanna believe you know me! And I know lotsa people read your blog, or else my friend wouldn't have emailed me! That is so not true! It is, you little meanie! Look at what you did to Fiona Xie! OK. So, how's L.A.? L.A.'s fine, but it's getting expensive, so I'm coming back. So, can you stop people reading about me on your blog? Har? You're coming back? OK, I'll ask the readers very nicely to stop reading about you here. You little shit! You're such an asshole! What did I do to you? Oh come on! Fair game! How'dja find my new phone number anyways? I ain't tellin' ya, you little shit, you're gonna write it in your blog, MISTER MIYAGI! Why don't you start your own blog and write stuff about me lah!So, please, all youse readers of this here glob, don't read the bits about Steph Song, ok? All untrue. Even the stuff I've just written. Ceci n'est pas une pipe
Surf stop: The Ferris Wheel Project
Friday, March 25, 2005
I'm too sexy for my blog: national coverage
This morning, Xiaxue told me that I had been called a 'pervert' on a national newspaper, and I knew the 'sexyblogger' gag had reached heights unprecendented for any Singaporean online stunt. But there are some technical problems with flickr at the moment, and pictures tagged with 'sexyblogger' aren't appearing properly. But donch worry, all is not lost. All is never lost with mr brown! If you've got a sexyblogger picture, go to mr brown's and leave a comment with the link! Sexyblogger's triber as well as grober!
Surf stop: autarkic; embargo-ish
iTunes' party shuffle is playing a copy of: Tears At The Birthday Party - Elvis Costello with Burt Bacharach - Painted From Memory, of which I have the original CD and therefore didn't steal music.
Welcome to the A-Star red State
There will be people who find the above image highly offensive and insensitive. Well. We can amend it a little and call it the A-Star patch. We might as well tattoo HIV positive Singaporeans. Or since we're such a connected city, we'll put some chip in 'em, or something. Tourists and visitors who are HIV positive will be issued with a temporary serialised A-Star with biometric identification features free of charge, to be returned to ICA officers upon departure. We could A-Star ID AIDS victims, but this government's banned wagon is one well-oiled, and big, machine, and I don't see why they don't ban sex between non-monogamous consenting adults altogether. Easy what. Solves the problem dunnit? Huh? Huh? Huh? mr brown's said it, and I second it. We must have some sort of certification system of authorised sexual intercourse. It may not be the only foolproof way to curb AIDS (because fools working at HSA might accidentally use tainted blood transfusions), but it will go a long way. Fornication Under Consent of the Government will be something we must all strive to attain. A manual and log card will be issued with every certificate. While we're at it, hey, this banned wagon thing could really work to solve all our problems. Lesseee...
- Birds shit all over expensive cars. Shoot birds. Check. Birdshit problem solved. (Wait, they already do that)
- Couples marrying later and not having kids. Revoke marriage certificates and housing subsidies for couples who get married but don't have children when they don't have a medical reason not to. Check. Declining population problem solved.
- Gay people having sex and spreading AIDS. Ban gay people. Check. Gay sex problem solved, declining population problem not affected very much despite banning gay people.
Surf stop: 5x Mom
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
I'm too sexy for my blog: the gift that keeps on giving
Not say I got a lot of free time, but it was very good to see this viral meme keep going, with some really funny pictures from bloggers who have previously been quiet and anonymous (tongueless and faceless). If Tony Pierce joins the conga line, as he's promised, then this might become some grober, cross-cultural, pan-pacific, cross-atlantic, trans-continental.... ...thing. You nair know! Then, I spied this on one of the sexy poser's comments section:
At 4:29 AM, Kat said... oh damn! it's you LYNN!!!! omgosh. katherine from 02s14 here. ;) didn't know you blogged. how's life? where are you now?A happy reunion ensues... I hope... ...sekali maybe the blogger's been awoiding this katherine and now regrets putting her photo up. (Actually, there'll be many hot-blooded males she'll be trying to awoid from now!). Just rewards for being so savvy. Good stuff, lah, localbrand!
Surf stop: tBlog - Bohemia Bunnie (Duuuuudes, she's taken liao lah!)
Share the love: Go there, do that, and buy the t-shirt! (got discount)
In the high-stress, high workload world of the private sector, a giggly fit is sometimes a good thing. And so it was that this afternoon, in reponse to my notifying mr brown of xiaxue's picture on tonypierce.com, the doyen of singapore bloggers decided to make me choke on my lunch by sending me an MMS of himself with the 'I'm too sexy for my blog' expression. I had no recourse but to reciprocate with mine, and in the midst of the best gigglefest I've had in a while, we posted and cross-linked and this viral meme (teochew for fast fast) was born. Be part of the grober phenomenon! Is simple:
- Get a Flickr account if you don't already have one. It's free and it's great.
- Take a picture of yourself with the 'sexyblogger' expression, or find one in your archives that comes close.
- Post it to your flickr account and tag it with the word 'sexyblogger'.
As a token of appreciation for all the love (or something to that effect) for XiaXue, effective tomorrow, if you show your "I'm too sexy for my blog" expression at any of LocalBrand's retailers, you will immediately get a 20% discount on any LocalBrand shirts.* For retail locations: http://www.localbrand.sg/shops.htm We may regret doing this someday, but for now, we can't help but feel the need to be part of this truly strange yet compelling phenomenon. Wear dem LocalBrand shirts in good health! *This offer is good through the end of March '05
Surf stop: Bohemia Bunnie
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Fame, Part 1: How to score a t-shirt company ambassador endorsement
Take several very good pictures of yersself or ask a friend to take for you. Make sure you look good in a t-shirt. Being well-endowed in the chest region helps: Xia Suay: Local Brand Ambassador Candidate This one can, I also can! Xia Brown: Local Brand Ambassador Candidate Next thing you know, the t-shirt companies will come crawling to you, asking for you to be their ambassador! Then you'll get your picture pasted all over the internet, first on your own blog, then here, then on tonypierce.com, then on BLOGGER BUZZ! Try it, it works. Mr Brown also try liao. You try lah!
Surf stop: JenniCheung.Com
Channel Newsasia, limpeh faster than you! Don't say Mr Miyagi never bring you breaking news about the dengue. Lately, because ST Interactive is now pay-to-view-for-fuck, I've found myself actually looking through the print edition to see if I might have missed out important stuff by not touching the newspapers. And as much as I'd like to deny it, I have. Today's (Monday) read was scintillating stuff like PM Lee's spiel about the elite. What about that, huh? I was like, reading it and reading it, and it was going on and on about the inclusive elite and like, what role they have in like, y'know, society? Then the classifieds dropped out onto the floor and I was like, whoa, Asia Pacific Travel got package deal to Hong Kong 3 Days Free & Easy fr $278! In other, more important news, I'd like to suck up to Xiaxue now and tell youse all that she was on the New Paper last Saturday, somewhere between the 139 pages of soccer results, previews and analyses (and 'health club' ads). Then tonight, on my Bloglines feeds, I found that Tony Pierce of tonypierce.com had filched a pic of her and pasted it on his very popular blog (though nowhere as popular as xiaxue's). This girl is going places. Don't ever steal her taxi again! Then again, at the rate she's going, she's not gonna need taxis no more, you public transport bitches, you been warned! Mr Miyagi say 2,460 between Jan 1 & Mar 12 2005
Monday, March 21, 2005
Don't just podcast! Broadcast! Be the next Diana Ser, the next Suzanne Jung, the next Cheryl (isn't that a porn-star name) Fox or the next CNA male presenter whose name we can never remember! Details here. Audition form here. It's your chance to host a teevee show and be subjected to ridicule by thousands of bloggers! If you're a blogger, you can even ridicule yourself! How cool is that? You'll get to interview restaurateurs, go on fabulous Chan Brothers tours to Perth and Sydney and interview more restaurateurs, talk about Tiger Woods and Manchester United for a bit, talk about a shop that sells sex toys in Singapore for a bit, and then interview more restaurateurs. I don't think there's a better program made by CNA! So, whaddya waiting for? Download that form, fill it up and present yourselves! Double Mac @ Menotti's
Surf stop: Joy.nu
Sunday, March 20, 2005
How bout the blooming petals?
Today, like every other day, we wake up empty and frightened. Don't open the door to the study and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument. Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground. ~Jelaluddin RumiNow, how about the mass flowering that's been going on? Pretty or what? Ixora I always get the two mixed up: Angsana or Flame of the Forest? Bougainvillea OK, it got too hot outside. Here's a picture of some indoor plant I found at home.
Surf stop: betterdays
The singular's weekend life
It's been a very, very hard week. And that's all I will say about the hard week. I'd much rather talk about something else. But unfortunately, after the very, very hard week, I didn't have the energy to go out and enjoy myself and as a result find things to talk about. Instead, I stayed home and enjoyed watching the rugby on the telly, accompanied by a bowl of noodles and a can of curry and a can of beer, the combination of which ensured that I would stay home and not wander off too far from the toilet. I really did enjoy watching the rugby on telly, but I won't write about how who won, and how I enjoyed it because the teams that won were the teams I was supporting. Because Adri says I shouldn't. (And there is always Mr Miyagi's Sporting Sideblog anyways). I'd write about how I love my girlfriend very, very much and how I couldn't imagine life without her, but Adri, she also says that we shouldn't do that. I could write about how lately, there's been a spate of bloggers getting angry at each other on their blogs because of things that have happened IRL, but I'd just be accused of being involved in gossip mongering, and that is really not what this blog is about. Serious. You can steal taxis, meet up with each other for sex or coffee or soup, but I won't write about you because that is really not what this blog is about. So how like that? Think I might go read a book now. Wish I were here. Wish you were here.
Surf stop: Chase me ladies, I'm in the cavalry
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Bodily Mass Index
Was it Thursday's Straits Times front page (this link and the whole website it points to will self-destruct in.. wait... now?) that got everyone fiddling with their mobile phone's calculator to measure their Blubber Mass Index? There I was, this whole week, getting worked up over the gays cause AIDS issue and the why nobody reported the dengue epidemic issue, when all of a sudden I started asking people, eh, what's your BMI? Fuck, I'm fat! Are you? Not half as colourful as the way a reservist platoon mate puts it: Nabeh! Ang Moh always different standard! Pay also higher, BMI allowance also higher, Lan Cheow also bigger, fuck lah, like that how to compete? Speaking of competition, a friend who's an entrepreneur (no, not LMD) tells me that Ang Mohs are actually better customers than locals. They don't haggle as much, and they don't say stupid things like: I came to your shop and it was closed. You should've put up a 'CLOSED' sign so I know it was closed. to which my friend couldn't help but respond with: OK, next time I close I'll put up a 'CLOSED' signboard so you, living in Clementi, will know that we are closed because you can see Chinatown from there. This was the same customer who said: I am coming at 11.30. when my friend had said: We open at 12. I think they've got too much fat in their brains. Vanda Miss Nabeh Flower Also Got Ang Moh Name!
Surf stop: My Thinking Place
iTunes' party shuffle is playing a copy of: Casta Diva, From The Opera "Norma" - Angela Gheorghiu, Evelino Pido & Lodon Symphony Orchestra - 2046 Original Soundtrack, of which I have the original CD and therefore didn't steal music.
Friday, March 18, 2005
How Mr Miyagi got his name
I don't know karate but this is how I got named my nickname. It's a much better nickname than what the South African rugby player, Chumani Booi was called last weekend when his team played the New South Wales Waratahs. It won't stick because too many players are called Black Cunts, apparently. Back in my day on the playing paddock, everyone had a nickname. If your opponents didn't give you one, your teammates did. My captain, Boof (I forget his real name), noticed that with my scrumcap on, I bore a striking resemblance to that Japanese American actor. He would announce to our opponents before every game that our side had Mr Miyagi who could catch flies with chopsticks whether he played at halfback or on the wing. Put a lot of undue pressure on me, I'll tell ya. The only good thing was that taunts from opponents got really boring: 'Wax on, wax off, fuck off back to Japan Miyagiiii' - and didn't bother me after a while. Although once a while, the opposing halfback would mutter something along the lines of 'Miyagi-san, too slow! Been buggering Daniel-san all night, mate?' But I'd get my own back if I got to floor him, 'Get up, Daniel-san! Mr Miyagi want some more, maaaaaaate!' (If I didn't get to floor him, my teammates, Boof, Lino, Sione, Stevo and Donut would get him for me, and say to him something to the effect of 'make another Asian or Pacific Islander joke, bro, and I'll break you in two, ok?') It was actually quite fun to watch Boof, Lino, Sione, Stevo and Donut break people in two, and then we'd all go to the pub, me, the Pacific Islander boys and the broken opponents, and we'd swap stories about how we broke the previous week's opponents in two when they made racist remarks on the field. These days, racially inspired sledging has gone out of fashion, sadly. Oh well, now to find out why mr brown is called mr brown. Tempura-Wire 2.0
Thursday, March 17, 2005
2,460 new cases the reason to ban outdoor parties?
You read it here first. Because you won't find it on Channelnews Asia because it's not important. You won't find it on ST interactive because you're not subscribed to it. There were 2,460 new cases of dengue fever and 61 new cases of dengue hemorrhagic fever between January 1 and March 12 this year, so says my unnamed World Bank friend who receives travel alerts every time she has to travel to this godforsaken part of the world. You really have to take precautions even though the alert has been downgraded to 'warning' level from 'epidemic' level. There were 9,459 cases last year. If I were in charge, I'd close down any party on Sentosa for good. Anything outdoors, got mosquito. You never know what they get up to. Once the sun sets, the mosquitos come out and wreak havoc among the populace. It is no wonder the natives are restless.
Surf stop: aneki
Loony new year
Can't go out tonight, cos I've got a bunged knee. So what did I do? Surfed the net, watched a DVD and did some work. On the net, these blokes took the cake tonight for some of the looniest content I've seen. Loony in a good way. Not loony in a 'gays cause AIDS' way. Or loony in a 'my daughter can buy pornographic comics in a bookshop so she will be acting out her sexual fantasies' way. Or loony in a 'having a casino means we are encouraging gambling' way. Or loony in a 'what's this with radio DJs saying such dirty things that I have to sit and listen and take notes then call up, complain, and then write letter to forum page and complain' way. Good loony. Then there's good loony versus loony loony here, where Michael Jackson's interviewed by Suspicious Bastard. I'd like to know what you're smoking. The other good loony activity involved naming my friend's new car. He's been scouring the net looking up names to name his new white car, but the net, she yields only those fashionable baby names of Celtic origin, those that Channel 8 actors like to give to their newborn sons. (Craydon: Not Japanese Crayfish Udon, but 'Brave little baby who has to snuggle up to Mummy even though she hasn't bathed for a month because her grandmother says it's good for her even with the air-con off'). I suggested a name of Welsh-Celtic origin, 'Llanggargh', but it didn't sit too well with him. Not a good specimen. Better legs found here.
Surf stop: The High Levels
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Steppin' out with Sam
I'm dead tired and decide to take a nap when Sam calls and asks if I'm free for coffee. For her, I'd drop everything and pick her up wherever she is, drive her wherever she wants and let her buy me whatever she thinks I should drink. What the fuck? Where's my Merc? Why are you driving this car?, she says as I pick her up. I love you too. Very much. What happened to my fucking seat recline settings? What the fuck have you done to my seat? And she's not very happy when I tell her that with this car, there's no electric seat thingie button where you can set and memorize the seat recline settings because this is not a whiz-bang fancy classic car the Merc was, and that I am now too poor to own a Merc. Sam berates me all the way to coffee, where we don't order our regular coffees because the weather, she is too hot. We get a coupla iced teas instead, and Sam, bless her fucking heart, starts reminding me of the good ol' days when we used to drive around the island and sing songs in the car and stuff. So, who's Skip? She must be really fucking happy you wrote about her. Skip's fiction. Just as Sam is. Yeah, I know you fucking told me that, but I am Sam, what. Sam is a bit of you, but you are not Sam. You're such a fucking wanker, and I don't say fuck all that much, can? Can you don't write me like that? OK, I'll try. Fuck, you better, can? After coffee (tea), I drive Sam home, and she wants to sing at the top of her voice in the car again. Just like old times. But unlike old times, Sam now has an iPod with iTrip and proceeds to tune the car stereo to the right frequency, and selects a playlist on the iPod she's specially assembled. Bless her fucking heart, it's a playlist of the songs we (she) used to listen to when we used to drive around the island and sing songs in the car and stuff. Sam says drink iced-tea and eat cake with ice-cream because you need to cool down because I look so fucking hot.
Surf stop: syntaxfree.org
Monday, March 14, 2005
Adri gets interviewed
Cowboy 'Borat' Caleb gets up close and personal with one of the best online writers this side of the South China Sea. I now know what I've suspected for a while: Adri, I am in lurrve witchu! Hot or whaaaaaat?!
Surf stop: technicolor.org: in stereoscopic vision
Weekend? What weekend?
I've been telling my friends about my 14-day work week, which now looks to stretch to 21, and maybe more. A holiday is what I need, and a holiday doesn't look anything remotely like happening in the near future. Add to that the headache one gets from the stuff one keeps reading in the newspapers, and it makes for a very grumpy stretch. I didn't even feel like going partying when my equally grumpy friends asked me to. But I tell you what, the beef noodles and the wonton noodles at Lavender Food Square (upgrade liao become Square) are just the wurl's best. The Scarlet, Erskine Road
Surf stop: better living through buttermilk (Welcome back, Nick)
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Eh? Like that not contempt of court meh?
There's a very sad story unfolding in Sydney about a Singaporean couple who allegedly poisoned their children. For matters like these, a court order withholds the names, and for good reason. From the SMH:
Police prosecutor Sergeant Keren Bayley told the court the couple, who were listed in court documents as being aged 35 and who cannot be named, allegedly collected the Dozile tablets for "some time" before giving them to the children, aged seven and six.But Channelnews Asia has special dispensation to disclose the names, possibly because Channelnews Asia is not connected to Australia and the rest of the world. Deep long black @ Menotti
Surf stop: cowfacedotnet
Saturday, March 12, 2005
No comments no spam lor!
You currently can't leave comments on some (many) Blogger blogs. And this free service is full-o-bugs:
Known Issues This is a list of currently-known Blogger bugs/issues (and workarounds, if available). We hope to fix all of them in time, so thanks for your continued patience! Blogger Bugs * Users are currently getting "Blog not found" errors when accessing comment pages. We are working on getting this resolved ASAP. * We have had to temporarily disable the Mail-to-Blogger feature, which means that emailed posts will not be able to reach your blog. We plan to restore this functionality soon but have needed to turn this feature off for now in order to stabilize our database servers. In the meantime, you can continue to post by logging in through the Blogger.com homepage. * Stats collection has been temporarily turned off as well, so you will not see your post count or recent posts updating on your dashboard or profile. Once we get this restored, these items will update automatically. * Currently, Profile Images must be under 50k in size, and their URLs must be less than 68 characters long. These bugs will be fixed soon. * Posts made between midnight and 1:00 am may have their time stamps off by one hour. You can correct this by editing the post and manually changing the time. * Republishing an entire blog will sometimes get stuck part way through and not finish, though new entries can still be published normally. We are working on improving the database performance to fix this error. * Post-search (from the Edit Posts page) doesn't do Advanced searching (multiple terms, etc.) Browser Issues * In Mac versions of Internet Explorer, certain buttons are not appearing, such as the buttons for signing in, creating accounts and blogs, and saving profiles. The best thing to do until we fix this is to simply use a different browser, such as Safari or Firefox. For cases like signing in or saving a profile, you can also just press Return to submit the form. * Spell check does not work in Safari. We recommend using Mozilla Firefox for Mac users. * In the Camino browser, text cannot be entered into the posting field. We will be making some changes to handle this browser better. * In recent versions of Mozilla browsers, the image upload and spell-check windows may be blocked as popups. You can fix this by changing your preferences to allow popups from blogger.com & www.blogger.com.BUT! I am sticking to Blogger for the time being because it is free, and the very infrequent bugs are part of the quirks. And I have engineers at Google fixing the bugs rather than myself having to tinker with stuff on MT or WP. And cool people use Blogger. And no comments means no comments spam. Schmile
Surf stop: Culpable Crapping
Friday, March 11, 2005
Two-thirds of AIDS sufferers may say Straits Times is spot-on
They cannot possibly be so dumb, folks. Don't buy it. In every sense of the word. The statement, and especially, the reporting of the statement. They cannot possibly be so gong. I'm pulling a very long bow here, but I think the ST may be just trying to make itself more relevant, albeit in a very, very perverse way. So, don't buy a word they're saying. They may be just pulling your chains so you'll talk about them. They may be just making you wonder who that 'unnamed expert' is, whether he/she is from the CDC, the MOH or from some department totally unrelated to health and medicine, but so happens to be an epidemiologist. I mean, they may just want you to do the math and get worked up: 1/3 of new AIDS cases are gay means 'gay parties may have led to a sharp rise in new AIDS cases'. They also may just want you to know how they're tackling the epidemic, and how it is global, because gays from high prevalent societies, they come to party and end up 'seeding the local community with infection'. Right now, you may be thinking about what the MOH is doing to work and manage a cure, whether anyone at the Biopolis Hub Thing is working on something, whether there are drug trials, whether they'll do something once Snowball and Nation moves to Bangkok and the number of AIDS cases rises anyway, and whether they'll say 1/3 of new AIDS cases are gay means gay parties in Bangkok may have led to a sharp rise in AIDS cases because gay men went to Bangkok, whether we may be living in the Dark Ages. You may say what you want, but don't say Straits Times never make you think! The Straits Times made these people think: Cowboy Caleb Lancerlord IZ Reloaded
Surf stop: Whimsy & Angst
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Woe what woe?
Life is good when you're self-employed and you're ill, and you've got business woes that render you penniless (for the time being) and work that's piling up by the hour, and you come home and you want to write that big, bad blog post, but you've got that heat-related headache, and you've got to think of what to cook for the family, and you cook for the family in the stinking hot kitchen, the food doesn't taste all that good, but you clean up and you make the best decision of the day, to play with your three year old nephew and his Thomas the Tank Engine train set for an hour, at the end of which, he says, Uncle, I love you, tomorrow we play again? (Big bad blog post can be found here)
Surf stop: Mini for Sale
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Auntie Lilly and the free gift from hell
My cousin called today to tell me about what happened to Auntie Lilly and Uncle Albert over the weekend. It was a pretty slow Saturday morning, so Auntie Lilly was very happy to have received a phone call that told her she had been selected to receive some branded free gifts. You know where this is heading, but Auntie Lilly didn't, and very delightedly told Uncle Albert that they had free gifts waiting for them at Wisma Atria. Eh, free MP3 player, you know? Free digital Canberra you know? We got selected you know? My cousins knew where this was heading, and warned them that this was likely to come with a very big catch. But free digital Canberra! Free MP3 player! Branded one you know? And off they went, Uncle Albert and Auntie Lilly, to Wisma Atria, where they were to call their children after they had picked up their gifts, so that they could be picked up and fetched home. A while only lah! Just answer some questions, then we call you ok? Free digital Canberra you know? An hour passed and they didn't call. So the cousins called them to ask what time they'd be done. Finishing soon. You come and pick us up lah. Wait for us at Tangs. We waiting for the Canberra. And the cousins went and waited outside Tangs for them. For half an hour, before they decided to buzz Auntie Lilly's mobile phone again. Err. Not finished yet lah. Still talking. Talking something lah. Your father got questions to ask. This went on for another good hour, before an ashen-faced Auntie Lilly appeared at the taxi stand with a equally worried-looking Uncle Albert. My cousins decided to frisk them and found that they had signed and purchased four thousand bucks' worth of time-share lifetime holidays at luxury destinations across the world. Immediately, my cousin called the bastards to make sure they cancelled the deal, threatening bodily harm if necessary. That got Auntie Lilly even more worried. Eh, don't scold them lah. They give us the Canberra you know? And the branded MP3 player. Auntie Lilly, there's a price to pay for wanting to be so connected, you know? Sometimes, my digital Canberra can take quite nice photos
Surf stop: Lifestory
Mr Miyagi has the flu and is on MC today, probably because he was stupid enough to go play touch footy on Sunday even though his body was telling him not to. Anyway, he will leave you with something he wrote a while ago:
The Pacific Sports Store, RandwickYes, Mel Gibson lived around here, I think somewhere on Dudley Street. I dont know which High School he went to, but I know he studied at NIDA. I was busying myself looking for a pair of sandals that were sturdier than my last pair while he went on to say that Geoffrey Rush also lived nearby during his NIDA days. The Pacific Sports Store has been on Randwick's Belmore Road for as long as I remember, and despite the incursions of the likes of Sportsco and Rebel Sport outlets nearby, it has managed to stay afloat. I like it because it has possibly the best collection of rugby-related sports gear across the Eastern Suburbs. The façade is a hideous green, possibly painted two decades ago and impossibly free of graffiti. The store display window is a motley arrangement of rugby balls, headgear, boots, shoes, jerseys as well as rugby posters, which are so sun-bleached I mistook them for antiques. Back inside, the shopkeeper broke from his conversation with the Irish-sounding woman who was shopping for rugby gear for her son, and turned to ask what I was looking for. And about time he did too. It is near impossible to locate anything in this shop. It is dark, and the shop-space looks like the display window, only messier and with everything and the kitchen sink strung up from floor to ceiling. Sandals. I am looking for sandals. The kindly-looking Chinese shopkeeper squinted at me, as if he was about to accuse me of stealing a pair of adidas trackpants last month or something. OK. So I was unkempt. Slightly. You. I remember you. You play rugby union. You came here and bought gear some time ago. Before I could acknowledge this, he went on to recall that I had done my ankle in two weeks after I bought boots from him. Yes, this fella here plays rugby, he said to the Irish-sounding woman who looked in a hurry to leave the shop. He's one of the few Asians who do. Very rare. She nodded. This lady here is very involved in rugby too. Her husband is a referee. Rugby talk ensues for five whole minutes. Clubs, matches, divisions, grades. Then from out of the shadows came a voice and the figure of a middle aged Chinese woman. Yeeees, I remember this boy. Haiyah. You should stop playing. So rough. I hastily picked a pair of Dunlop sandals even though they didn't fit very well. Marketing people take note. This technique - boring the customer into buying something, sometimes works. Stepping out into the glare of Belmore Road in the afternoon, it took awhile before my eyes readjusted to the sunlight. Clutching the crumpled plastic bag (which seemed to have been recycled by the kindly shopkeeper) containing my new sandals (at least I hope they were new) I went and looked for Dudley Street to see if I could figure out just which apartment block Mel Gibson lived in. The ex-car and the ex-girlfriend in the ex-city, little bit north of the Eastern Suburbs, 1995
Surf stop: of Pirouettes and Grande Jetes
Monday, March 07, 2005
Laws of our land Part II: Stateless in Singapore
I like telling my friends about how I wasn't a Singapore citizen until I was ten. Because they'd ask me, 'Oh really, so where were you born?' And I'd say 'Singapore'. And they'd ask, 'but how come you weren't a citizen? What nationality were you then?' No nationality! Stateless!, I'd say, real proud of my badge of honour. But, but, but, you were born here. My father was born in China and didn't have a birth certificate. Mum was from Negri Sembilan. Dad and Mum didn't move to Singapore till 1966, and so weren't given the option of being citizens when independence suddenly came round. My older sister was born in 1966, but was granted citizenship for some reason (Clause 3), despite what the Constitution seemed to say (Clause 2c). So, in the family, we had Malaysian Mum, Singaporean Sis, and Stateless Dad, Brother and me. I now know that my brother and I weren't alone, and there are other Stateless Permanent Residents. I remember having to travel on either my mother's or grandmother's Malaysian passport till I was five, and then being issued with this green booklet called a Certificate of Identity, which served as a passport. Some time in 1979, Dad, my brother and I were granted citizenships even though Dad didn't know enough Bahasa Melayu, our national language, to save his life (Clause 1c), and my parents applied for a shiny red passport for me, valid for 6 months at a time, just so I couldn't just up and leave the country and not do national service. I've been a citizen ever since, and I'm glad I can't be banished or exiled from this country and its fine food. Unless of course this happens. Nowsaday, born outside Singapore also can become citizen and get red passport.
Surf stop: Gulaman Life
Saturday, March 05, 2005
The leaves have lost hold of the branches as always
Friday, March 04, 2005
Looking through my coin collection
There are days when being self-employed is not what it's cut out to be. Your own time - very little; Your own money - very little. Yup, it's time to dig out coins from under the sofa cushions again (not a very good haul, I might add, because spring cleaning was only recently). But at least, I don't have to work with psychopaths.
Surf stop: glassdog gaze
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Too good to pass up
The other day I was telling my friends and anyone else who would listen that I did not speak English till I was five, much less write. But look me now! I are blog in English! So, don't knock the little ones who are struggling a bit, because one fine day, they might very well turn out something like this. Something so good in its simplicity it makes you (ok, me) wonder how it is that you sometimes feel as if you've forgotten how to feel. ...To a cold white line down the highway in my head
Surf stop: Viva La Elf
Nowhere near good enough
I always say, if there's a need to backpedal, then do it all the way. No point trying to save face, or ngeh ngeh try to convince yourself that your decision was somewhat right:
Dear Reader We have received emails and phone calls from many of you on our subscription plan for The Straits Times Interactive (STI). We thank you all for giving us your feedback, which is important to us. An offer for print edition subscribers ---------------------------------------------- One common complaint was that many of you are already subscribers to the print edition of The Straits Times and you feel we should not make you "pay twice" for two similar products. We have therefore decided to offer existing print subscribers a 50% discount off the STI subscription rates. With this change, print subscribers who want access to STI will need to pay S$36 for a six-month subscription (or S$6 a month) instead of S$72; the 12-month subscription rate will cost S$60 (at S$5 a month) instead of S$120. We hope that with these new rates, print subscribers will continue enjoying the paper in the mornings as well as our paid-access online offering.... ...Extended period to browse ST Interactive ----------------------------------------------------- All registered readers will have from now till March 19 to browse the new, beefed-up version of STI before it is closed off to non-subscribers on March 20, instead of March 15 as originally planned. If you decide to take up a subscription, you may sign up for it online from March 11. If you do so between March 11 and 19, you will be given free access till the end of March. Your subscription kicks in on April 1.Like, yay, right? It was free, then you charged money, then you charged slightly less money, and gave us freeloaders five more days to download all the news from your three-day news archive. So generous. Joke's on you on April 1, ST Interactive. Not good enough! Sungei Road Flea Market. You can get back issues of Straits Times here. They use it to wrap merchandise.
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
Days of yore
Class of '85 Mr Brown and myself have never attended our school's Founder's Day dinner, but decided to do so this year, because it's been twenty, yes, twenty years since we left the stinking halls (my classroom next to toilet) of the school on a hill with the clocktower that showed a different time on each face. It was worth every cent we paid, even though we were a bit miffed we didn't think like this classmate of ours, who said, and I quote, 'Wah lao eh, pay so much for fuck? I come at 10pm and sit with you all lah'. Our school produces these sorts, but Mr Brown and Mr Miyagi have obviously forgotten some of the things we learnt. It was good seeing some faces we haven't insulted in two decades, but before I could fire the first shot, a familiar face went, 'hey, wah, you grew taller'. And when Mr Brown arrived, another familiar face went, 'hey, what happened to your giant plastic spectacles?'. Next time, must draw faster. Mr Brown memorised the school anthem at work today, so he sang with gusto when it was sung before dinner, while I got lost at the second verse (there's a second verse?? WTF are the 'Islands of the Main'?) Then there were the hordes of school kids who were trying to sell us all manner of miscellany, like rugby jerseys and rugby balls, which, surprisingly, the rugby captain of '85-86 didn't buy. (For the record, merchandise included: umbrellas with school crest, polo shirt with school crest, rugby balls with school crest, rugby jerseys with school crest in 3 designs and playing numbers, frisbee with school crest, very nice red fleece hooded sweater with school crest (almost bought one), neckties with school crest, posters, tickets to school musical and fun fair tickets). The rest of the evening was spent trying to eat the food on our plate, trying to find our old teachers, and trying to remember what we did in school. It's been so long ago, that I hardly remember the time I was in an electro-pop band that played mostly Depeche Mode songs (Master & Servant, Slave Whip Mix 12" Extended Single). Mr Brown remembers vaguely his band, which I vaguely remember covering Duran Duran or The Bangles. Now, the Class of '85 didn't know who Mr Miyagi and Mr Brown were, so our secret identities were safe, sorta. Until the conversation swung round to I.T., the ingterneck, websites, and blogging. And this is where it hit us like a ton of bricks. One of the Class of '85 said, 'hey, I have a friend whose daughter has a blog. Her name is Wendy, and her blog is Xiaxue.blogspot...'... Golden Oldies R Us.
Surf stop: Sanity Check Point
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Didja see the rain today? Didja? Didja? Not like yesterday's patchy stuff. This was full-on open your mouth and you'd drown type of rain. It was apt that after a month long high yaytus (Hee. Love that word. Bloggers always use it), Sam decided to give me a call to see how I was doing. I sez I'm good. She sez she hasn't read my blog in a long while because she's been so busy. So I sez I'll give you something to read about. Check in tomorrow. Haha. Cool. Make sure my name's Sam. Sam's doing ok, and really busy at work, but she called to renew our friendship, as she does ever so often. It's good to hear your voice, Sam. And she says, as she always does, 'Likewise'. Nabeh, just as I was about to walk out for lunch. Lucky nair wash car.
Surf stop: Myrick