Saturday, April 30, 2005
You want (see comments in that post) Mr Miyagi to say something as regards the laws of defamation? Can! Mr Miyagi says being 'threatened with legal action' is not a laudable achievement. Does not matter if it is in connection with something you blogged. Saying 'I am the first Singapore blogger to be threatened with legal action over something I said about someone' is like saying, 'Hey, sliced bread! Cool!'. Do not insinuate that by my silence over this matter I am afraid to talk about matters of any importance. My silence over this matter is because it bores the shit outta me, and the only important lesson in this whole debacle can be found in any law textbook to do with defamation. And this is not a law textbook to do with defamation. I do however respect the right of every individual to talk about the matter till the cows come home and place themselves in parks and every available open space in Singapore. But if you're daring me and egging me to say something about the matter, here 'tis: If you get 'threatened with legal action' because of something you wrote on your blog, I could recommend a coupla good lawyers, but you really should know better than to run with scissors. Also, you'll now be used by several agenda-laden and sometimes misguided groups as a poster boy/girl for the poor, oppressed no-hoper Singaporeans who have internet access at the university they are obtaining their expensive degrees in. That doesn't mean the world is sitting up and taking notice of you because you've achieved something or attempted to make the world a better place. I can get the same kind of attention by standing naked in an MRT train. Once I get arrested and make the news, there'd be at least some quarters who'd defend me saying I've had my freedom of expression curbed. But I don't need that kind of attention. I'd much rather write something about Steph Song and get strung up by her instead. Oh, and another thing. The law's the law, and you're not immune even if you're writing anonymously. Go on. More cows coming home. I'd much rather look at this
Surf stop: 23 Degrees Off-Kilter
Friday, April 29, 2005
If I had that kind of money, I'd be a full-time perv too
And now, back to our regular programming at Mr Miyagi's Cheekopek Glob. My big fat grapevine told me a while ago that Thumper (the club where the car park plays host to couples fornicating in Porsches, y'know, that one?) was going into the modelling agency business. I din believe! But now, they're distributing Comm. Cards (the postcard thingies where the models feature themselves on magazine covers and fashion spreads - collectors' items, these.) to people who would hire these models for photoshoots and stuff. Gotta hand it to the folks at Goodwood Park. They're really into everything. Then again, if my family had that type of dosh, I would too. Modelling Agency leh! Wonder what the D stands for?
Surf stop: For want of a better title
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Belated Anzac Day post
It wasn't Anzac Day ten years ago when I was waiting for my train on the southbound platform at Wollstonecraft station on Sydney's North Shore. But I'll remember Anzac Day to you now because there was a kindly looking old man in a Digger's hat selling paper poppies from a box that day. It was a pretty November morning, and the jacarandas were littering the platform, as is usual that time of the year. Maybe it was the sight of the purple flowers that prompted me to go buy a red paper one from the old Digger. When I did, he asked me where I was from. And when I said 'Singapore', he said to me in Hokkien, 'Li Ho Boh?' (How are you?), and 'Selamat Pagi', in Malay. 'I was at Changi and at Selarang', he explained, responding to the big, silent question mark on my face. Pity my train came uncharacteristically on time, or else I would've loved to have talked at length about his time in Singapore. That Digger's story is part of our history, and like a lot of things to do with our history, we've got to rummage around our spanking new National Libraries' archives/vaults/depositories before we can hear these important voices. I second mr brown's proposal to bring these voices to the fore. It will be interesting. And at the very least, we'll see that our history isn't mired geographically. Changi Peninsula
Surf stop: the daryl sng blog
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
A Holland Village epiphany
I've been spending more time than usual at Holland Village, and at one of my favourite coffee shops. The one that sells roast pork, chicken wings and pretty decent drinks. A few afternoons ago, I sat there nursing my second Tiger mug of iced coffee because I had been thirsty enough to order but not drink two. At 2.30 in the afternoon, Holland Village, as you know, is still pretty busy with slow moving cars and slower moving people. And it was such a blazing afternoon, people were moving even slower than usual. Even the Jack Russell terriers being taken down the street to the vet/petshop weren't as spritely as they ought to be. And as you know, Holland Village is always chock full of Ang Mohs of all nationalities. So much that the anti-terrorist barriers are still in operation between 7pm and 7am on some of the more popular Ang Moh streets, where Coffee Leaf and Tea Bean and the likes are located: "There will be no terrorist activity between 7pm and 7am on these streets because the terrorists are not allowed to vault over this flimsy metal gate between these hours", says a sign that doesn't exist. But ought to be there. So terrorists would know. Bombing is not allowed. There is a gate. It is locked. But anyway, that afternoon, at the coffeeshop with me were two Ang Moh men, sitting at separate tables, minding their own business, which wasn't much. The first man was seated facing the back of the second, and was mulling over his Tiger mug of Tiger, and the other, seated one table away from the first was poring over some book. Then it happened. The second man leaned to his left so that half his backside was off the plastic chair. And let out a god almighty audible fart. It was a toot long and loud enough above the traffic noise to startle himself and the people at the coffeeshop. There was a very pregnant pause as everyone, coffee stall owner, charsiew, roast pork stall owner and chicken wing man, all turned towards the direction of the sudden noise. The Ang Moh sitting behind the Tootler was already choking on his Tiger trying to stifle his giggles. Then everyone burst out laughing. The poor bugger-who-thought-this-big-one-would-be-a-silent-stinker sat frozen, probably not able to decide whether to acknowledge his audience, or get up and flee. Iced Coffee also comes in Heineken mugs Sorry. Reflex. Nothing to do with this post. Not bad though.
Surf stop: je suis libre
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
On Sunday, I went for my second haircut in a month at my friendly (and chio) hairstylist's. Before the last haircut, I had been going to the barber's for a convenient but nosso nice crewcut. But you know, you have to pamper yourself every now and again. And my hair grows really quickly. So, for a little bit more than what I pay the barber, I had a shampoo and scalp massage by some funky dude whose name I didn't get again, and a stylish haircut by the chioest hairstylist you'll ever see this side of Orchard Road. Actually, she could give me a Mohawk and I still wouldn't mind. Or notice. Until I got home and my mother were to ask, 'why you look like red indian?' Cheryl the Chio started the usual hairstylist/barbershop conversation, but steered clear of politics (because this place, damned stylo one), asking me what movies I had seen lately, whether I had been clubbing, and asking why I didn't go to the Zouk 20th Anniversary Bash. I yammered away, as you would to a chio hairstylist who asked you those things: Went to Mohd. Sultan instead lah, had teh lah, nowsaday cannot drink lah, too old to party lah. Then Cheryl suddenly asked, 'Eh, before you came back here last month, you went to the barber for a crewcut right?' I said yes. 'You shouldn't' 'Why not?' 'Because you have a fragile area' 'WHAT YOU MEAN FRAGILE AREA?', I asked, so loudly that the other customers turned to look, causing their respective stylists to go tsk (or 'zhk', depending on whether you're a pinyinophile or a wade-gilesophile. Gotta get these things right, you know?)' because they nearly cut their customers' ears off. 'There's one part of your hair that grows more slowly than the rest'. 'Oh no! Beijing 101 time!' 'Don't worry. I style for you and give that area more volume'. Looks empty? It's not. Everyone's hiding below the window sill. Pre-haircut and waiting for my cup of tea.
Surf stop: enter the myoclonic jerk
Monday, April 25, 2005
Baluku your head ah!
If you don't already know, there's at least one local blogosphere controversy every day. Today's stoush of choice comes courtesy of mr brown's, where his use of the local
colloquail colloquil vernicular word has stirred up a hornets' nest of purists and non-purists alike. I have little to say about this issue, as with all other issues, except that I have not sullied anyone's mother tongue, and there is no such thing as a mother tongue. We don't play mother one.
This one is your mother and you speak her tongue
Surf stop: DavidTheTan
Sunday, April 24, 2005
'I like Singapore. It's very beautiful. We see it from the boat'
As she was ladling the rest of the stock into my bowl of Pho, Mrs Nguyen said, 'I like Singapore. It's very beautiful. We see it from the boat'. I was at my first dinner over at Julie's parents' in the south-western suburb of Lakemba, where from then on, I was always guaranteed a bowl of the best MSG-free Pho in Sydney because Julie herself hated the stuff. As far as possible, Jules would sneak out for a sandwich or felafel or anything, as long as it wasn't Vietnamese. Jules and I became friends at law school only because I loved Vietnamese food and she hated it, and she had brought me home that first time so I could finish everything her mother cooked. It's no surprise I was 10kg heavier than I am now when I hung out with Jules. Her mum cooked the tastiest Vietnamese food I've ever eaten. Apart from that, Jules was really fun to be with, especially when she was with her best friend, Nu, and the two of them would often put on Spice Girls skits on the train to Uni. But it was Jules' hilarious ignorance of all matters Vietnamese that made it even more fun. Once, when it was reported that one of the members of the notorious 5T Gang had been killed, she had said very innocently, 'Now, they have to call themselves the 4T Gang'. Things only got a little closer to home for Jules when Nu's brother was arrested in connection with the murder of a NSW State MP. At that point, I felt that it was the first time either Jules or Nu had to confront anything Vietnamese. But Jules simply said, 'Crime's just crime and it's got nothing to do with whether you're Vietnamese or Lebanese'. Of course, the popular sentiment at that time was that 'ethnic groups' caused crime, and children of 'non-english-speaking-background' were industrious and scored the best places at the best universities. Such that one of the jokes bandied about at that time (and bandied about by a stand-up comedian of Vietnamese origin called 'Hung') went: How do you know when your house has been burgled by a Vietnamese? Your dog is gone and your kids' homework's done. It was at another, later Pho binge at Jules' parents' that Mrs Nguyen again said, 'I like Singapore. Very beautiful. We see it from the boat.', and I had looked up (from placing my face directly over the bowl) and asked what turned out to be the question that opened the can, 'Oh, how long did you stay in Singapore?' 'We did not go to Singapore. We only see from boat'. 'Why not?', I ventured further, realising only at the end of my question that she had meant seeing Singapore from their refugee-filled boat. 'They did not allow us. They give us oil (fuel), give us food, give us water, then they pull the boat away from Singapore. Julie will not remember. She was only 18 months old'. Further conversations with Jules' brother and father revealed that their boat had been towed out to international waters, where they were picked up by Malaysian coastal police boats, and the refugees were placed in a camp somewhere on the east coast of Malaysia. The Nguyens were later accepted under an Australian resettlement initiative, and have been living in Sydney since 1977. The last time I spoke with Jules, she had just quit her job as a tax lawyer and had taken on what she felt was a more fulfilling job as a family lawyer in a smaller firm. Over the phone, I could hear her mother interrupting her now and again, and she had shouted back in her typically Australian-accented Vietnamese. I wanted to ask her how her mum's Pho master stock was doing, and whether she was still making Pho feasts from it, but I figured Jules wouldn't have cared the least for it, and she'd have talked more about how the damned Starbucks and Borders outlets were taking over Sydney.
Links: 30th Anniversary of the Fall of Saigon (Google Results), The Boat People (Guardian 1977), Vietnamese Boat People (Jeff Ooi, March 21, 2005)Jules eating Tom Yam soup because it's Thai and not Vietnamese. Sydney 1997.
Surf stop: k i t s c h y p o t e m k i n
Saturday, April 23, 2005
It looks like another Working Weekend. I rilly, rilly need a holiday, and it doesn't make it any better when wallflower writes about her trip to my favourite island in the whole wide world. In two parts some more. Though she didn't quite seem to like it. Got holiday still complain! Stranded on an island with this one? Not too foul. I'll Survive.
Surf stop: Silent Thoughts For The Priviledged
Friday, April 22, 2005
Maybe I weighed in on the mature issues?
Nabeh, what does a blogger have to do to get noticed? How come Steven McDermott didn't name this blog as one of the infanteow ones? I did everything right! I have chiobu pictures, I have iTunes music, I have Surf Stops, I talked about Fiona Xie, I talked about the weather, I talked about blogging! How come still don't have? Come on, Steven! You cannot claim to be on to something when you don't even recognise the infantilitlility of this blog! Look deeper and closer, Steve! Yes, buy an airticket, fly here. Immigration will let you through, don't worry. I'll buy you a kopi-o and a hum cheem pang for your trouble. Some people are only ever concerned with being funny, food, stuffed toys and stylish accessories.
Surf stop: The Accidental Blowjob (this link should earn me some Singabloodypoints!)
iTunes' party shuffle is playing a copy of: Alamuhan - - , of which I have the original CD and therefore didn't steal music.
I posted on Tomorrow today
There is so much work. There is so much else other than work. My sleep debt is piling up and I'm having trouble paying back the interest alone. But cannot schleep! Because why? Because we live in such essiting times! We have a new project leh! Like so: I know lah! Everybardy already put this up! I have to work ok? Think what? Every hour online ah? Tomorrow.sg is buzzing now, and there's a fair bit to iron out still, but as long as you all participate, it'll keep getting better. All contributions welcome, all ideas considered. Only thing is, think before you contribute, because it makes it easier for the moderators. Think about what, you may well ask? Think about whether it's a dead horse you're flogging, and if so, whether it's worth flogging that dead horse. Wouldn't mind sleeping if I could wake up next to this one.
Surf stop: MONOGRAM MUSINGS
Thursday, April 21, 2005
For us to live any other way was nuts. Uh, to us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks and took the subway to work every day, and worried about their bills, were dead. I mean they were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something we just took it. If anyone complained twice they got hit so bad, believe me, they never complained again. ~"Henry Hill" - GoodfellasSo, the waiting staff at NYDC nervously served us while we ate, chatted and took turns taking pictures of each other. Nervous because you know what happens if you cross some bloggers, like say, if you stole their taxis, y'know? Man, we were so powerful, mr brown was even able to get the waitress to lower the volume of the music, so we could like, talk business.
Da rest of da crew, Darollo, da Calm One, da Idler, Jimmy da Geek and Preetamio, dey did a good job of cleaning up da mess. Dey had a system. You gotta have a system.Sorely missed was Cowboy Caleb, who was on undercover assignment tonight on an ongoing covert operation. Xiaxue and Adri were there, and that's all that matters. Xiaxue was sporting a glorious tan, Adri was carrying a Paul Theroux book, and I love them both very, very much. But Adri, she says we shouldn't blog about how much we are in love, because that's just not done. So I will stop gushing now. Nervous waiter takes orders from Xiaxue. Simi sai also take Angel's Charlies I Angel's Charlies II
Surf stop: in transit
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Look! What's that up there?
The week starts off well enough, and then you get the Wednesday sag. But of course, there's always this blog to distract me by giving me things to write about, pictures to look at, and podcasts to listen to. And remember, if you think it's all going to the dogs, what about the 35,000 new jobs about to be created? Cool huh? Have a toothache? What about the 35,000 new jobs? Your ass hurts? What about the 35,000 new jobs? Cool huh? Got essays to write that you don't really want to? What about the 35,000 new jobs? Cool, non? Stuffed up royally at work? Hey look, what's that? 35,000 new jobs! Surrounded by fuckwits who don't appreciate you? Forget them, but don't forget the 35,000 new jobs! Left your mobile phone behind while buying 'stuff' at 7-11? Hey, 35,000 new jobs! Cool leh! No time to blog? Never mind! There are 35,000 new jobs, what. Too many blogs to read? Who cares? Got 35,000 new jobs, y'know? Your wife's leaving you for the contractor, your kids don't want to call you Papa, your dog died, you got retrenched, your car got shat on by birds while you were parked in an underground carpark, but look! What's that up there? Thirty Five Thousand New Jobs! Looooong arm!
Surf stop: ..::kellog::..
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
WTF is an IR?
Gambling is so much a part of life here that it is ridiculous to see how much fuss has been made about building the two 'Integrated Resorts'. I'm game for a flutter once in a while too. So do my friends. We gamble on anything: the stockmarket, when to buy a car because of the COE prices, when not to put a parking coupon because we think the parking auntie is not rain-proof, any four-number combination that catches our eye (like the registration plates of an upside down car my friend saw at a road accident scene, which prompted him to buy 4D, but the winning number came out in reverse sequence, so he lost his money). Once, we even caught an iguana, strung it up, and made it pick out 4D numbers from scraps of paper. (Also nair win, but we cooked the bugger and ate it). When we were living in Sydney, my friends and I would go to Star City because the parking was the cheapest in town, go out and have dinner, then come back to the casino for a flutter, hoping to win back our parking fees. Then we'd go home. When we had a bit more time, we'd stay there longer, because if you gambled at the tables, they'd serve you free drinks and snacks like chicken wings and spring rolls. And when we had even more time, we'd drive the 10 hours to Melbourne's Crown Casino, or the Gold Coast's Jupiter's or Canberra's No-One-Comes-Here-Even-Though-It's-Nearer-Than-Melbourne-or-Gold Coast Casino. The point is, nothing will stop you gambling if you were so inclined. If you really needed a casino to gamble in, there's Genting up north, which is, by all descriptions, an 'Integrated Resort', there's Macau a couple of hours away, and there's one in Manila as well. If there were an $100 entrance fee imposed, and if I were a gambler, I'd pay, go in, sit at the table and try to win back my $100 from the fuckers. Singapore's Last Resort Island (photo by Edgar320)
Surf stop: i trusted u with the idea of me n u lost it
You just wait and see
Don't believe? My father told me ages ago there was gonna be a casino in Singapore. He's usually right about these things. (He told me in 1992 that you would be able to buy mobile phones for $0 if the telcos made you sign a two-year service contract or something). And now that you've seen the cows all over the place, you just wait and see. The Fcuking NTUC is gonna wanna get in on the casino deal. You heard it here first. My father says so too. Workers' Co-operative my ass! Don't worry, sweetie, I'll get you another balloon
Surf stop: Aiyahwhatever.com
Monday, April 18, 2005
Tracy Huang, Space Invaders and the girlfriend from hell
I once briefly dated this girl from college and we had an intense relationship. First time I stayed over, she told me, 'my step-mum's at home, so we'll have to behave'. I said ok, and off we went, quietly. I got out to the kitchen to get a drink, and I'm thinking to myself, I think I might've been drugged. Because, in the living room playing Space Invaders (it was a long time ago) in her t-shirt and shorts but still easily recognisable, was Tracy Huang! Huang Ying Ying! Huang Ruyi! Tracy! I forgot my drink, went back to the bedroom, and asked the girlfriend, 'What's Tracy Huang doing in the living room playing Space Invaders?'
'Oh, so you've met my step-mum, Tracy'. 'Your what??' 'Din I tell you my step-mum's Tracy?' 'No! I thought you were telling me her name and I thought you were weird for telling me her name, but this is THE TRACY HUANG and she's playing SPACE INVADERS!'But days were the those, and the relationships didn't work out, between me and the girl and Tracy Huang and the girl's father. Still, the once-would-be stepmother-in-law is in town for her first concert in a long, long time, and I dunno, I might just cough up some money to go and say hallo auntie, remember me? Glasses never looked better
Surf stop: CherylTan.Com
Sunday, April 17, 2005
The Yao-Jiu-Ling-Ling Show
There's another episode of the NKF Charity Stunt Show on telly later tonight. More celebrities will be strung by their um.. strings, suspended until people can dial the 1900 number to donate money to let them down. The NKF is a very charitable organisation, so please don't say I am mocking their efforts to bring much needed help to needy kidney patients. I'd just like to see their very hardworking (and well-remunerated) executives do some stunts themselves on the NKF Stunt Show. Other than that, these folks are so charitable, they support a whole studio of Mandarin-speaking actors, directors, producers and crew by buying an entire television series that highlights the plight of kidney ailment sufferers. Roxanne explains what the series teaches us:
Don't try to be hero, beat up gangsters, save heroine from rape, donate all your organs and turn over a new leaf ... mediacorp will still give you a horrible death, kill you swee swee.Back to tonight's NKF Stunt Show, and I was right! They are gonna hang musicians upside down:
1) Upside-down Band Jaime Teo, Chen Hanwei, Nick Shen, Zhou Chongqing, Ben Yeo , Le Yao, Lin Peifen, Wang Ailing - With all band members seated upside-down, they have to perform a piece of music without error. If anyone makes a mistake, they have to start from the top till they get it right.Gripping stuff! She can string me up.
Surf stop: The Fallen One
Saturday, April 16, 2005
I also have
Thanks to the time on Shortphat K's able hands, I have a 'This blog got Miyagi-ed' sticker . I like this one better though:
Surf stop: ickle Oriental
Friday, April 15, 2005
What's better than a Chan Brothers' Holiday Package?
Selarang Camp is overseas meh? A 21-day all expenses (well, almost) paid trip to Far North Queensland, is what! Yes, I'm trying to hype it up, perk it up, and do as much as I can to avoid being sian 1/2 about the whole deal. I mean, who gets two sets of SAF100s (call-up notifications) in a week? It says on the order, 'Adv', meaning I'm part of the Advance Party, meaning I get to go there earlier than the rest of my mates, so I can go check out where to hang out, and what the nightlife is like. The Army will be supplying me a dirt bike, coupla maps, a GPS, an NVG and a radio so I can go explore Far North Queensland by myself. Oh, and also a rifle and some ammunition for to scare the roos and other frightening animals that live in the bush. And I get a coupla thousand bucks in tax rebates for my troubles. Try topping that, Chan Brothers! Ouch! Pain!
Girl with the plastic lei
Tonight the Girl with the Plastic Lei came and had dinner with me, and I listened to her talk.
I don't know what's wrong with me, she said. I don't know what's wrong, is it just me or is he not the one or is it just me?I don't know, Girl with the Plastic Lei, it could be a bit of both, says me, the master of equivocation.
See, I don't know if it's because I'm sabotaging myself by getting into relationships which will never work out.My eyes followed her chopsticks as they clutched half a dozen strands of noodles high up above her bowl of la mian. So high, if she had dropped them, they'd have made an almighty splash back in the bowl. No, I don't think you're sabotaging yourself.
I don't think I am either. But why is it like that? Will he just become another random statistic?Maybe, I said. And I winced as she burst one xiaolongbao accidentally with her chopsticks.
But I think I should be happy with what I have now, which is my job, my bike and my cat.And your plastic flower necklace. It's nice.
Goes well with the bracelet, huh?You are too cool, Girl with the Plastic Lei. Some of 'em are a work of art.
Surf stop: For all the beautiful sistas...
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Where would you rather be now?
When you're my age, you're old enough to be conscious of hanging out with people either a lot older than you and even more conscious of hanging out with people a lot younger than you. You look at the old fogies and you snigger, and then you shock yourself when you calculate how few years there are between you and them. Then you wonder if, wah lao, in a few years time I'm gonna be driving an old Mercedes, wearing a gold bracelet, and having trouble seeing the belt on my pants from where I'm standing. I've since sold my Mercedes. There are many places I'd rather be right now, I need a holiday, I'm still thinking about that dream job, I want to work for world peace, I want a million dollars, I want a house, a family, two kids, a dog and two cats. But you know what? Things aren't half bad at the halfway mark*. *figuratively. I don't have $500,000... or one kid, or half a dog and one cat, or half a family... But enough introspection... Hot enough for ya?
Surf stop: wessatong.com
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Brain dunno go where
There are some things you really shouldn't do. Like trying to get up from your desk to go to the toilet when you've still got your headphones on your head. Good thing my laptop is quite heavy, and I didn't so much yank the computer and some peripherals off the desk as much as re-injure my neck. (You got that? From the headphones. Not from Kamasutra Position #23: Self-Love) Absent-mindedness has been a feature this week. I've left the phone at home when going out, locked myself out of the office, forgotten to eat lunch, tried to use the car remote to open my house door and even driven out barefoot before turning back home to get my shoes. Old liao nair mind, still got chiobu
Surf stop: Sandralicious
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
The world around us
My friend who travels a lot to far flung places often complains that we're very parochial, us Singaporeans. We don't know what's going on in the world around us, outside of Singapore, she says. Remember ASEAN? That grouping of how many nations now? Neh, the ones that gave us the Tiger Cup and the SEA Games? Apparently the next ASEAN summit is round the corner, and they might kick Burma out of the Tiger Cup or something because of family problems. See? We know something! Besides, other people got problems, don't disturb them lah! We'd much rather be talking about more immediate issues closer to home. We own our own issues, y'know? Like primary school shorts and how to say toilet paper in Mandarin. Important stuff, all: mr brown show 12th April 2005. Or via subscription here. Don't need to look any further if your world has things like this
Surf stop: A Stranger in a Strange Land
So busy with work, so long blog posts will have to wait. Steph Song's really back in town, and she called yesterday from her land phone, which I didn't know the number of, and so answered the call very politely. She greeted me politely too, like someone who's about to kill me would.
Where didja get these photos of me? Even I don't have them! Er... I took them without you knowing. Anyway, I'm not gonna kill you. I've read your blog thing, and it's pretty good. You know how to do all that linky stuff where you click on a word and it takes you to another page? Cool! Er... Tankew? So, I know you're very busy, but let's meet up on Wednesday. Er... can also. I mean, see how lah, if I'm free.Phwoar! This linky stuff is good!
Surf stop: Girl in Bionic Suit
Monday, April 11, 2005
How to enjoy your browncast
If you've been enjoying your dose of the mr brown show podcast, here's a suggestion on how you can improve the browncast experience: If you've already downloaded the mp3 show files manually or via subscription and placed them into a 'mr brown' playlist, you could add your favourite songs to that playlist, so it becomes like a radio show, y'know? Only you get to choose your music, and there aren't any annoying DJ types talking over your favourite songs! How cool is that? The latest browncast mr brown show with me in it (and that's all that matters) has us struggling to overcome the effects of a very bad flu (mr brown lost his voice, I lost my hearing), but failing nonetheless, and we end up pioneering the internet's first mime show (mr brown is very good at the fake glass wall thing): mr brown show 11th April 2005 or via subscription. I am trying to get Suzanne on our show, but she sleeps pretty early.
Surf stop: Temp Tin
Sunday, April 10, 2005
I'm happy to do National Service not because I'm a True Believer, partly because I'm never sure what I believe in. But National Service is such a way of life here that I'm better off not spending my time kicking against it while having to serve, because that'd make me a whole lot more miserable. As you'd imagine, there are stories to be told about National Service, and because of that, Days Were The Those was started last year, with open invitations to anyone (non-serving women also) with a story to tell about National Service. I like the way it's been going, with a diverse range of insight and downright nonsense, with the nonsense bits coming mostly from me. This week, I received an email from a reader who contributed a story about how his life was put in unnecessary danger during his time in service. I've asked him to post the story himself because I think it's important enough, and because I've gone through that same stupidity myself to know it well:
Some nights I can still see the round dropping to the ground in slow motion - and yet too fast for me to do anything. I know that two years after I ORDed an NSMan died in an incident very similar to the one that I had gone through - and on the very same live firing area.There's a difference between putting your sons in harm's way for a legitimate reason and something as senseless as taking a risky shortcut. And it should make you wonder as well, whether realism in training dictates that you should simulate water torture conditions, when in all reasonable expectations of reality, the chances of our soldiers being put in that situation for real is close to nil. I know there are many more stories along the same vein, and I'm glad they're slowly 'declassifying' accounts of incidents to bring those guilty of perpetrating gross neglect and stupidity to bear. I'm still horrified by standards during my time in full-time NS where once, during a night training exercise with live ammunition, I was asked to train my machine gun on a ridge 600m away, and only stop firing when I was told that our own troopers were charging up the hill. The radio-comms call ordering me to cease-fire came only after I sighted the silhouettes of my mates, against moonlight, on the ridge. Good thing I had great eyesight and night vision. I've lost two mates to National Service, and I have four years left to serve. I don't want to lose anyone else.
Surf stop: Think About This
Death by Steph Song
I am so dead. My big fat grapevine tells me Steph Song's just come back from L.A., and is on the warpath to kew Mr Miyagi. But nair mind lah, there are worse fates. So, hor, here's another chiobu photo! And speaking of chiobu, the Big Fuck has compiled a veritable guide to chiobu bloggers here. LMD and other chiobu not listed there, prease go there and comprain forum. Steph Song demonstrates how she will kew Mr Miyagi... Death by Steph Song.... not bad lah.
Surf stop: Wurh.com (because The Big Fuck sez so!)
iTunes' party shuffle is playing a copy of: Back in the U.S.S.R. - The Beatles - 1967-1970 Disc 2, of which I have the original CD and therefore didn't steal music.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Refrain from using the rubber trees
Funny lah! One day keep fit, keep fit, next day sick as a dog. I've got a flu and a secondary ear infection that's disrupting my balance, and that's not good in my line of work, because I don't know if I'm flying the damned airplane level or not. And you know how that is. Not good for the passengers either. "Raydees and gentremun, due to asspeerians tahburance, prease keep your seatbeowt fastened and refriend from using the rubber trees* " ~ real in-flight announcement on All-Nippon Airways. *rubber trees = lavatories Not happy. Go away. (Jenolan Caves 1993)
Surf stop: work smarter
Friday, April 08, 2005
There was once at my previous job when I had to travel to Bintan with half a dozen chiobu in tow, and decided it would be nice to be wearing a tank-top and shorts, seeing as the chiobu were wearing the same. At the ferry terminal where we met up, one of the said chiobu said to me, 'Wah lao, you know Indonesia is halal one right? You wear like that look like pork!' I din get no respeck! That, and one dizzy spell and a full blood-screening a few months later convinced me something had to be done if chiobu were to take me seriously. Five years later, look at me! Not only do chiobu take me seriously ('I'm serious, dude, take my photo off your blog now!'), I made mr brown stop talking for five minutes as he negotiated the third 400m at the track. No-Neck Olympics
Surf stop: Sheena's Little Fragments of Time
Thursday, April 07, 2005
The High Tech mr brown show podcast
With Skype, Garage Band, a Powerbook, an Acer Travelmate, 2 broadband connections connecting two old schoolmates who've had too much tea to sleep, and you get an hour and a bit's worth of ramble about the NKF Stunt Show, Speak Good Mandarin, Celebrity Babies, Sports, News & Weather. Better than CNA! Or subscribe to podcast here. Inshallah, we will have more talk over tea.
Surf stop: willy wei: socks and slippers
Foreign talent freedom defender
Since we're still talking about blogs, how to blog and what blogs are about, just so you all know, there's this organisation called 'Reporters sans Frontieres', which is like the French for 'Reporters without Press Passes', and who have this award for best blog that defends the freedom of expression in blogs. Representing Singapore from sunny UK, is Steven McDermott, with his blog, Singabloodypore! So what if he's Ang Moh? Defend our freedom can liao! Eh, hard work ok, and seldom appreciated. Read his blog and you'll see how much work he puts into defending our freedom while the rest of us just exercise our freedom and express ourselves by blog, podcast and posting pictures of chiobu. Go exercise your freedom to vote (or not to), and hold Singabloodypore in the regard that it deserves! Don't always have to take the tour bus when you go on vacation
Surf stop: The Big Fuck
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Travel ambassadors: public housing estate of origin
My friend who travels a lot to far flung places like Tonga and Vanuatu meets a lot of far flung people who don't meet Singaporeans very often. As you'd imagine, the conversation would go something like:
Where you from? Japan? No, no. Singapore. Ah, you speak English too. Yes, some form of. I met some Singaporeans before, they also speak English. Is that right? Yes, they said they were 'Bishaners'. What? Bishaners. They live in this place called Bishan, and call themselves Bishaners, and Bishaners speak English, they said. Oh... oh... haha... oh.. hah. I am a 'Katongite'.Come on, who you trying to blarf? Everybardy spiks English! Not just Bishaners and Katongites. What about the Bedoki and the Marine Paraders? The Toa Payohans and the Ang Mo Kioreans? The Eunosians and the Telok Blangans? The Bukit Batoksiders? The Yishuners? The Hougangsters? 'Bishaner' your backside lah!
Surf stop: Princess Gabrielle