The angry angry undergraduate

Happy National Day - Island of dreams and apathy

2010-08-09T23:36:00.003+08:00

As a wave of patriotism, pride, and appreciation of Singapore washed over me for the first time as I watched the NDP Parade, I begin to wonder.

I wonder about the same thing many others before me and many others after me will. Will we be truly happy and contented as Singaporeans? Does Singapore have what it takes to make people happy beyond the superficial 'oh it's safe, clean and efficient' tourist-y take?

"We've got the hardware but no heartware" is the common rhetoric we hear on the streets, read in the papers and see on the net. And I had my very own taste of it two days ago.

I was on my way out of a multi-story carpark when I saw this uncle around his mid to late 60s wobble on his scooter whizz past me. I thought nothing of it until I heard a screech and saw that he lost control and hit a parked car. He lay dazed with his eyes staring into the sky and his scooter still on top of him.

Thankfully several uncles rushed forward to lift the scooter off him. I made my very first 995 call. I was genuinely worried that the uncle may have suffered a stroke because he was twitching a little when I tried talking to him.

Luckily, he could stand up after the uncles helped him to one side. By now most of the passers-by who were standing around walked away, seeing how the uncle seemed to be a-ok.

However, there were two uncles who were helping the old man that irked and saddened me. They dressed in red and white with an Orchid pinned to their shirts (are they from some RC? I don't know.). Shortly after ascertaining that the old man was ok, they saw that I was the one that made the call to the ambulance, and as most apathetic Singaporeans, they did not want to stay.

But it was the way they made their escape that made me very disappointed in them. One of them said 'You stay here ok ah? I'm very busy, I have no time for this.'

Perhaps it was the fact that I assumed that they are from an RC that made me upset. Aren't RCs all about serving the people? How can he display such an attitude if he is part of a committee that is supposed to attend to peoples' needs?

Even if he wasn't from an RC, it is basic human decency to keep such comments to yourself. No one who is in any sort of trouble would like to hear another person say that their plight wasn't worth troubling for help.

From a crowd of about eight persons, it was reduced to only me and the old man left to wait for the efficient ambulance. The five minutes I spent there was one of worry, disappointment and desolation.

We have really regressed in terms of our humanity. You can say that that RC uncle's behaviour may be an anomaly, but I have to say, it takes a really cold society to produce someone who is capable of passing such comments.

Shit.

We're all no longer invincible

2010-06-28T20:01:00.002+08:00

I remember one thing I learnt from my social change class was that teenagers generally think that they are invincible and untouchable by mortal things like illness, death and pain. They even tend to think 'Oh this type of things will not happen to me'. I guess to a certain extent, that applies to me as well, and some times I see it in the people around me too.

Yes, we do not need to be reminded of our mortality everyday. It can be crippling and disables us to reach those heights to attain our dreams. But I must share a story of a little incident I had, to tell you that there are days, we are only human.

I've always advocated safe driving, I've railed at my Mom for driving carelessly, whimpered for my life when I sat in Peter's car, so I thought I should be a pretty safe driver.

Well confidence breeds carelessness.

I was going quick on the PIE, as I usually do. I was always confident that I could brake in time, given the distance I put between myself and the car in front. Always confident that I could stay in my lane, confident of my control of the car.

Confidence isn't a good defence against circumstances.

It had rained in the morning, but when I was on the road, it looked deceptively dry. I was going uphill along the PIE, with no car in sight in front of me. As my car dipped downwards for the down slope, there it was - 1.3 tons of German metallic regret.

There had been an accident somewhere further along the road, so all the cars came to a stop, I wasn't coming to a stop after clearing the upslope.

I slammed down on my brakes, as the rear of the Merc came rushing towards me, I checked my left, no go there. I felt the wheels lock, but I was still moving forward. There was a quick flash of frustration at the inability of my brakes to work. And then I resigned to fate that I was going to slide into the back of the Merc while still disbelieving that such a thing would be happening to me.

There was a sickening thud of metal and plastics. The good thing is, I braked early enough to not crash too severely, well the bad thing was now I had to face the anger of the driver ahead.

His anger wasn't the thing that made me feel sick. It was what he said. "What are you doing? My kids are in the back, you know?"

The good news is, they weren't hurt. But that didn't stop his wife from glaring at me with pure fury. I'll not forget her face for a very long time.

The following several hours saw me faced with guilt. Guilt that I could've hurt someone else much worse. I was confronted with the reality that I may have had taken somebody's life, if it had been a motorcycle in front of me, or if I chose to swerve left instead to avoid the Merc. I could've gotten myself killed.

For once in a long time, I realised that no one's invincible.

The damages will be paid by insurance. But the sheer astronomical figures in the bill also reminded me that, I'm an adult now, and I have to deal with real-life financial consequences, and such a stupid mistake on my part would've put a big spanner in my dreams had it not been for the insurance covering the damages.

I hope my story here will serve as a reminder for myself, and my friends that we're all very much responsible for ourselves now, and soon we will be responsible for others, and whatever decision we make, we better be sure of the consequences.

In Memory of Tom: December 1998 - 6 Feb 2010

2010-02-06T23:41:00.005+08:00

With his charm and ability to win people over by being his 'manja' self, Tom crept into the hearts of my family members. He is definitely family to us.

We would complain about his insatiable appetite, yet he brings a smile to our faces every time he sits in front of us and gives us a commanding meow to remind us that he's hungry.

His antics will always be priceless memories and we will fondly remember how he trots towards us with a spring in his step whenever he wanted us to show him some attention and affection.

Tom, you are sorely missed. I hope where ever you are now, there's an endless supply of durian, honeydew, milk, your favourite can food and baskets for you to curl up in.

I love you, always.

Memory lane

2010-01-01T04:54:00.001+08:00

As I look at the number of posts I have made for 2009, it feels like this blog is on its way to the cyber graveyard. 5 posts in one year. Maybe it's life's way of saying that we've got to move on to newer things or just like time's inevitable drawl forwards, people outgrow some things.

And then there are the things that outgrow you.

Recently while on off, I went over to my uncle's house to give my offerings to my ancestors to mark the start of winter. I used to call that house 'Mah Mah's house', but after Grandma passed on in 2000, it became my 'Suei Gu's house (literally little uncle).

He made some renovations to the house. The kitchen used to span almost the length of the house, but he put up a partition to create a new dining area where the stove used to be.

Standing next to the kitchen window, I could still picture my Grandma standing over where the old stove was and cooking maggi mee for me. I could still smell the old smell of the kitchen cabinets where the dried herbs were kept.

Everything in the kitchen was so big last time and the kitchen table top reached up to my chin, now I feel like a giant in the new kitchen with barely any space to maneuver. I always rapt my Grandma for spending so much time on the phone with my distant Aunt, and that she wouldn't play cards with me. I miss her quite a bit, standing by the kitchen window and reminiscing. Wishing I could hear her chatting on the phone with that Aunt again.

But now the house itself has moved on away from me. While I try to struggle to hang on to the memories of that house, I fear that I may be unable to picture how that kitchen layout would be like, how Mah Mah's maggi mee tasted or how the kitchen smelled.

Fast forward to New Year's Day 2010 4 a.m.

I was sending my friends back and as I dropped Guo off at Bedok interchange, I said to Tiak and Glen, 'Eh do you realise, 10 years ago at around this time, we were here after the millennium countdown? All the people were queuing up for Hello Kitty'.

How time flies.

It's a scary thought. But there was a form of bittersweet happiness because I know I still spend time with friends that I have made over 10 years ago and that we will most probably still be there for each other for more decades to come.

It's not so much a new year's resolution, but again it's a cliche reminder to all my friends out there to really treasure their family members and friends around them. We all know the pain of losing someone dear to us. Living your life without fully welcoming others into yours will always be truly regrettable.

I hope my friends won't find themselves desperately grasping at mere memories and wishing they grabbed on to the real thing when it was still around.

Happy 2010 people :)

Work life.

2009-10-31T20:58:00.000+08:00

Well.... as it seems life on the work front is a mix.

I'm glad my superiors think that I'm good enough to give me a whole lot of shit to do. Don't get me wrong, it's good shit that they are giving me to do.

But somehow I feel a little overwhelmed. I think I may screw up. In fact I think I screwed up a few times already.

The latest one was where I had to give comments on behalf of the organisation in a committee meeting. Naturally I wasn't experienced enough to give the correct answer. The deputy chairperson must've thought I was bullshit because he got out of his chair and left the meeting.

He returned only when my superior rejoined the meeting so that they can have proper inputs from her, instead of my nonsense.

That left a pretty bad taste in my mouth. It was embarrassing. Felt like I was caught with my pants down in front of a lecture full of students. Only this time the people in the meeting weren't as forgiving as the students.

C'est la vie.

On to more exciting things. I bought insurance. I don't know why I did, but I did. The moment you sign on the contract you're struck with this sense that you just bought shit that you don't need. Yet, you feel that you need that safety net in your life. A necessary 'evil' if you will.

Because it hit me the moment I got my first pay, I am responsible for myself now. And maybe in a few more years' time, I will be responsible for my parents. It's like this immense load came out from the darkness, smashed you square in the face and happily parked itself on your shoulders.

I don't want to sound over-dramatic, but I think many of my friends will be carrying that responsibility soon and I hope they know it too. My parents worked hard to ensure that their retirement is nice and cushy, so that me and my brother can lead our lives without this said responsibility.

However, I think I don't want to become those ungrateful bastards you see in special news reports who don't give a shit about their parents and abandon them. Actually they aren't the worst. Because some of these people feel guilty and that's why they disappear.

The worst are the ones who think that money settles everything. Just throw some money at the retirement home and that's that. All those years of labouring your parents went through, demeaned into mere dollar and cents.

Repaying parents isn't about monetary value. It's about being there for them like they've been there for you.

I know some people will argue that they have their own lives to live.

So I shall say to them, why can't your parents be part of the life you live? What's so bad about them that they cannot be part of your life? Why not just put up with them for 30-40 more years? Or would you rather regret a lifetime after they are gone?

Oh well... that's my rant for the quarter.

It's funny how my first big purchase and commitment after getting my pay is insurance. I actually feel a bit more secured about buying other shit now that I have settled aside one sum of money for insurance.

I've planned to spend money on something that I don't really want, but need, so that I will feel more confident about buying something I can't afford.

Heh.

Hur. A real reflective blog post at last.

2009-08-10T23:45:00.000+08:00

Disclaimer: There's a bit of shameless boasting. Since it's my blog, you're not obliged to read it. Hur.

To sum up my meandering journey through school in a few simple words - I'm still learning to live.

I took stock of my life one night while looking at the developments, at Marina, I wouldn't have dreamed possible in Singapore.

Quite like a loose metaphor, me and Singapore's growth that is.

I wouldn't have thought that I would be graduating an honours student. In fact in my first 2 years of university, I was pretty determined to get the fuck out of there quickly.

My whole life prior to NUS was one of scrapping. Barely scrapping pass exams and tests using sheer wits, common sense, superior eye sight (for cheating) and pure dumb luck.

I was never one for hard work.

My goal setting in life was pretty simple. Aim low, hope for the best, think of excuses early and just try to limp my way into each successive level.

Pretty useful, seriously.

That philosophy was put to the test during my A levels. With two months to go till the exams and zero knowledge of economics and human geography it would've seemed that my luck has run out.

CCD33. When I saw those grades I remembered clearly as I looked at Miss Ang. I was puzzled and frankly a bit lost. I wasn't upset or desolate because my expectations weren't high in the first place. I just realized that for the first time in my life, I probably fucked up quite badly. I looked at her and asked "Miss Ang. How?"

She told me "Just try loh, you never know."

What she said didn't strike me as particularly helpful, but honestly there was nothing else she could've done.

I figured out that I wasn't particularly devastated because I honestly didn't even know where I wanted to go after A levels. Up till that point in life, I was just like a piece of trash in a river, moving along the current to see where it takes me eventually. I didn't even know what courses there were in the universities.

But lo and behold, sheer luck helped once again. Somehow FASS decided that they needed me to contribute some school fees to NUS. Luck it would seem, favours the truly unmotivated. I was pretty happy I got in. That meant my parents didn't have to waste money to send me abroad. Actually, I think it would've been an extremely bad thing if I went overseas. I would've been in a foreign land with no friends, no idea what I'm studying and no direction in life. I would've probably been either seriously delinquent or suicidal.

Year 1 in NUS was a bit of a blur. I must admit that my focus was entirely on skirt chasing. I wasted too much time trying to get close to ML. I wasted too much time on WoW too. In fact, I wasn't really a student back then. Wasted too much time on frivolity.

And in another struck of sheer retarded luck, I got attached in Year 2. Being in a relationship actually showed me how well I can be focused. I juggled school work and maintaining a girlfriend. With the distraction of skirt chasing gone, I was able to prioritize school work better. It showed in my results.

I got my first ever internship too (at Universal McCann). It was a pretty big milestone in my life because it was the first time I went for an interview and got accepted for a proper job. I felt a sense of achievement and also because it was the first time I really beat someone else at something (getting the job).

Alas, my idealistic notions of love and romance were shattered by the mallet of reality and differing opinions. That was when, in Year 3, I took up my Technopreneurship minor. Best decision I've ever made so far in my NUS life up to the third year.

I got to know people with so much drive (you've probably read about this in a post prior to this) and I learnt that I can be so much more than just a piece of trash, powerless against the currents. It was in my third year that I felt regret that I hadn't done better in my A levels. I truly loved taking business modules and it made more sense to me than most of the modules I've taken in FASS. In fact I wouldn't have been able to do my honours had it not been for the grades I've gotten from the School of Business.

Then, with renewed motivation, I decided that I shouldn't be sitting on my ass and counting on my fortunes to get me through life. I wanted control.

It was then I got my internship at Saatchi. Again, I felt a sense of achievement to have gotten the job because apparently more than 20 people applied.
I went the extra mile for the interview by bringing a portfolio of my hideously amateurish ads, but I guess that was better than the other interviewees that didn't bring anything.

It was my best internship experience because my director, Sandra, really showed me what being a good boss is all about.
I don't know what I did but someone told me I am called the 'legendary intern'. Heh pretty awesome. Maybe it's because I didn't really say 'no' to any of the things they asked me to do. Maybe I was just plain dumb and didn't know that some things I did were not within my job scope. I didn't care though. When you meet a good boss, you'll jump through fricking hoops of flames for them.

A few things I learnt in Saatchi:

A) Good bosses are rare
B) Good bosses make you a better employee
C) Always smile. Getting pissed off gets you no where.
D) Everybody's human, treat them as such and not faceless/soulless coworkers
E) Say 'no' only when saying 'yes' kills your love for the job
F) Be genuine (oh so hard to do)

Then came the next best decision I made. I stayed on for honours. Saatchi was an eye-opening experience and it taught me the bliss of waking up everyday and not having to worry about the real world.

The first semester wasn't particularly exciting, especially with a certain asswipe. However, thanks to that asswipe, I really understood the importance of getting good project mates.

I wonder how would've my entire memory of NUS would be like, if I hadn't seen Blur Queen Winnie in the playroom during the reading week. If not for her, I wouldn't have gone in and gotten acquainted to Pompom Paul, Camera shen Mike and Little sister I never wanted Esther. That led me to ask if I could join them for the social change project. I am so glad that I asked.

It's these little decisions in life that I've come to call clutch points. Where that one little variation from what you do routinely, helps change the rest of your life from the norm. I'll always remember how I tapped Paul on his shoulder and he turned around in his red tshirt and I asked if I could join his group. Esther if you're reading this, I want to thank you for saying 'Ok!' pretty quickly when Paul asked if I could join the group. The rest as they say is history.

I hope when in the future I meet with more clutch points that I'll be able to make decisions that will leave me grinning in utter satisfaction somewhere down the road.

So far this post hasn't been well planned out. I just went chronologically without much of a theme. I guess what I wanted to say was that from a cockster that didn't really care what happened to his own future, I've slowly become someone who set goals and slowly achieving them.

When graduation came, I was perplexed why some of my friends weren't too proactive with the job search while I was worrying about employment just 1 week after reading week. But I guess that sense of urgency that I honed just recently sort of paid of for me. I not only got my licence to drive, but I also got my gig at Saatchi again.

Though my experience second time round has left me wanting, it helped me realize that I shouldn't really dive into something I wasn't 100% sure.

Now that MICA has come calling, though it's with excitement that I look forward to joining, I am also going in with a little trepidation. Oh did I mention how happy I am that I got MICA? Yes, very. Once again, I set my sights on something and I got it. If only chasing skirts was as simple.

As I near the end of my highly unstructured 'essay'. I think I can say that I'm pretty happy with where I am as an individual. My achievements though not as glorious as some of my peers, are still pretty good in my books. I would like to think I did pretty all right in my first 25 years of existence.

Perhaps the next stage in life is working on the career and finding someone to settle down with. Oh well, time to set some more goals =p

P.S. Poh, I know you're reading this you bitch. You're also a clutch point friend that I am honoured to have known. It's not everyday I make friends with assholes that win my money in mahjong.

Purpose

2009-07-27T19:12:00.000+08:00

This will be a rant post.

Barely a month into the job, I start wondering why on Earth did I have to study so much for? Amidst all the office politics, lack of tact and downright rudeness of some people, you begin to wonder, what did they do to get them where they are. Sure some people say backstabbing and playing the game gets you far ahead in the professional life.

What I'm asking is, how do they get out of bed daily to go be something their parents won't be proud of?

How do they spend 9-10 hours everyday looking over their own shoulders and tango-ing through the office floor full of toes to be stepped on?

Why do they even do it? For the money they won't have time to spend? Or the job achievements that cost them their conscience and innocence to attain? Why invest so much effort and life for something that you don't necessarily need?

Today I got chastised for doing something that I felt lay within the boundaries of my personal life, the slap in the face is, it came from someone who does the very same thing. Yet amid the blur of work life, they are blinded to their own shortcomings and all too eager to point out the faults of others. How and why do they bother waking up and going to work to an office filled with like-minded people in that sense?

What is their purpose in life? Do they want to look back in life and say 'Yeah, I was put here on Earth to get ahead and leave behind a bitter trail of resentment'.

Whatever rocks their boat.

I know friends will tell me that's life and the working world. Either play their game or suffer. So I put this question to you all - Are you going to be like the people I've just described or will you let your back be target practice? What is your purpose?

The drive to strive drove me to drive

2009-05-15T22:15:00.000+08:00

Apologies for the lack of updates. I know I promised an entry on my Epic Euro Escapade, but I was waylaid by the most awesome semester ever had in NUS.

Knowing that school was coming to an end made everyone realise how much university life meant to them. With the impending working world beckoning and hastening deadlines acting as a catalyst, friendships forged and bonds were quickly established.

Though I'm tempted to write a poignant and tear-jerking melodramatic post on the awesome people of the 08/09 Communications and New Media Honours programme, I shall reserve that tribute to another time.

Today I shall talk about how I used my uncanny cat like agility and precognitive situation awareness to totally own my driving test.

But before we begin on the recount of the fateful day where the traffic police department insisted that I have my class 3 licence, let me share with you why I decided to get the licence in the first place.

You see not too long ago, maybe a year or so, I rationalized to myself that perhaps not driving is a good thing. I save money, save the planet (a wee bit) and I generally am pretty happy with the public transportation system.

One particular event however, changed my perception. If you're guessing it involves an event of the female kind you are spot on! If you're guessing I learnt driving to get girls, then you are one shallow short-sighted asshole.

It happened on a day in October in Year 4 Semester 1 in NUS. I was having possibly one of the worst headaches of my life. You know those kind that hurts till you want to hurl and every sound seems echoey like it's bouncing off inside a dome?

Anyway it was mid class and I decided to skip it and head home. With the sun blazing overhead and the daunting task of having to choose between taking 95 or 96 (too many decisions here for my pounding head to compute), I decided to flag a cab.

Turns out the driver of this cab was a lady who looked to be in her late 30s. From the way she talked one could deduce that she's been working different jobs and have seen better days.

Anyway to cut to the chase she asked me if I drove. I said I didn't. She gave a very earnest and shocked response - 'How can a guy not know how to drive?' In fact I sensed a hint of disgust in her disbelieving voice.

So subtle and sinister this disgust, it spread like a snake's venom coursing through my veins. The poison of her words slowly took my mind, till a few days later I was disgusted at my inability to command a class 3 vehicle.

Thus I set a goal. Well two goals actually, at the beginning of my last semester at NUS. One was to channel my energies into getting a girlfriend and the other was to get my licence.

While most my friends witnessed my spectacularly pitiful attempt at getting a girl (judging from the fact that I used a pick up line on a lecturer and dirty danced in front of another) and along with that my very inadequate participation in academic matters (I'm so sorry my friends! I needed straight Cs to get my honours hur), they obviously did not witness my sheer cornering prowess and heightened sense of awareness on tar.

Normal humans (according to the counter staff at Comfort Driving Centre) need an average of 20-25 lessons to be ready for a Class 3 (Manual) licence. Yours truly, nailed the course in 15 lessons. A feat only possible, no not because of my incredulous talent, but due to the fact that my instructors (yes, 3 uncles) are the legendary SAN-NIN (3 ninjas in Japanese, read Naruto for the intertextual reference) of CDC. SAN-NIN means Super Angry No-Nonsense INstructors.

Here's a quick run-down of the SAN-NIN:
Instructor of car 11: He tolerates zero bullshit. Any road/driving behaviour I exhibit that is not according to the Advanced Theory Book (ATB, not to be confused with Ah Tiong Bu), he will ask me to stop by the roadside, whip out the ATB, tell me the page number before flipping open the book to that same page and demonstrate his demon abilities of having memorised every word of the ATB and the mistakes I made. The book's so crumpled that it'd be no surprise that he brings it into the toilet and does funny things with it. However because of him, I had no problem with my advanced theory test.

Instructor of car 12: He scares me. Not because he scolds people. Not because he's fierce. But because you never know if he actually watches the road. He keeps on talking and talking and talking, he gave me a lesson about pigeons and why don't they stay on trees (says it's too hot up there). He gets me to talk to him too. Explaining to him why NTUC won't renew his insurance, why his Nokia phone keeps running low on battery and why I think pigeons are always seen on the ground (because we hardly notice when they are on the trees). Anyway, he taught me how to do things other than drive while driving. Useful. And of course, I also learnt to count on myself while driving since I obviously could not count on him.

Instructor of car 14: He is the king of bad instructions. Not because he gives wrong instructions, but his delivery. In a mix of Mandarin, Hokkien, English and another jargon I have no idea in hell, he'd mumble everything. He is always damn happy to have taught me how to gauge my position in a lane. Taking his pointer and telling me to look at a little dot on the windscreen wiper, he took pride at how straight I was in the lane, mocking other cars in front of me. He'd literally hop up and down in his seat in anger when I didn't follow his incomprehensible instructions during the crank-course. It took me a good 5 tries through the crank course to decipher what he was trying to tell me. But seeing how he'd hop up and down in frustration, I figured I should just let him hop a few more times. That day, I didn't have such a smooth time on the crank course. Hurhur.

One more distinctive characteristic of the SAN-NIN - all their eyes point in freaking different directions! Whenever I talk to them, I have no clue which eye to look into because they are always off-centre. So my eyes darted left and right. I get real confused. I think they caught on after awhile and refused to look at me while they talked.

Finally on the test day we were ushered into this waiting room where the testers would come and call us one by one. When I stepped into that room, it was small with 2 columns of chairs, there was this young guy (around 20 perhaps? Judging from his inane comments which I will elaborate on later) talking across one column to the other with this aunty.

He went on and on about how his Dad bought him a new car and how 'under-powered' that car is. He talked about how slow the pick up of that car is and that once he gets his licence, he'd modify the engine on his own. Yes on his own. So full of himself. I guess he irked me because not only was he loud, it was pretty obvious that his cock-sure demeanour was actually just a very thin mask of his nerves. You could see he was fidgety, legs shaking, wringing his hands and the little twitch he'll have (like when someone poked you at the side of the ribs) whenever the door opened.

Bragging about how during the warm-up he drove with the right hand on the wheel and the left extending to the passenger-side headrest, one could feel at that moment that fate would not smile on this arrogant idiot.

I figured I should just compose myself, close my eyes, relax and take slow breaths. Wished I chatted up the girl next to me though, hot stuff. But alas, the mission today was to get a driver's licence, not a rejection.

Finally my name got called, my tester seemed friendly enough. At first. He told me he was there to help me anyway I can but ultimately it was up to me to convince him that I was not a road hazard.

The circuit which was my greatest fear, went by surprisingly smooth. The tester talked and gave instructions more than I had anticipated, which was comforting. I left the circuit feeling supremely confident.

Alas, you know what they say about over-confidence. When I checked my blind spot I did it too enthusiastically to the point that the tester had to grab the wheel. Luckily I turned back in time to look ahead at the road and also to look at the tester's furious eyes.

"YOU WANT TO DIE IS IT?!" "WHO TEACH YOU TO FILTER LIKE THAT?!". Spirit crushing really. I thought I had failed. Without much to retort, I drove quietly. He made me U-turn back to CDC even before the whole route was completed.

He brought me to the office and gave me a dressing down. Honestly at that point I thought I had failed and was wondering why is he ripping me such a harsh one. I figured that was it. Demoralised, I didn't find the strength to answer his questions with defiance. Questions like 'how come you drive liddat?', 'who taught you this way? Or you never learn?'. So sitting there quietly, looking at him slightly sad and slightly puzzled, I just said I was nervous.

Then, he gave a sigh of resignation and gave me a slip of paper that said I passed. Woohoo! 16 points bitch! He wrote additional notes on it stating that I was speeding and tailgating. But the glee from the narrow shave immediately washed away the sick feeling of desolation mere seconds before. I hopped out of my seat, thanked the tester and paraded out of the office with the slip of paper in hand.

I saw that arrogant 20 year old boy smoking, obviously no slip of paper in his hand, I smiled to myself and thought "I gotta blog about this idiot".

And that my friends, is how I am now officially part of the growing number of people in Singapore contributing to rush hour traffic!

Prologue to the Epic Euro Escapade Entry

2009-01-10T04:47:00.001+08:00

Before I begin blogging about the trip of all trips you'll never get to experience, I'll whet your appetites with a smaller post on how undeniably lucky I am with air tickets. Or maybe the staff at airports just find me incredulously sexy.

You see, I've done quite a bit of flying over the years and it would seem that the God of Air Travel smiles upon me every time I grace airports with my sexy presence.

Not once, but twice I've had free, no strings attached upgrades to business class. Once was from Japan and another from Taiwan.

Then it came to this euro trip... on my arrival to Schippol Airport in Amsterdam, I was told my connecting flight to Frankfurt was cancelled and me and Princess Jiazi (First Class Honours Vincent's girlfriend) had to stay in the airport and wait for the next flight. It was a 3 hour wait and then the flight got delayed a further 2 more hours. What shit luck is that?

Hold on a minute! Didn't I say the God of Air Travel (hench forth termed as GOAT) smiles upon me? So why this crappy turn of air travel events?

Well it seems that maybe Mother Nature doesn't really like me. The flight got cancelled because of heavy fog at Schippol and the small plane we were taking to Frankfurt isn't suitable to fly in those conditions. And on the day I was supposed to come back to Singapore, my flight from Frankfurt to Amsterdam got cancelled. AGAIN. This time probably because of heavy snow in Amsterdam.

Fucked up. But I knew it can't be so shitty for me. How can nature hate me? I try to be a good eco friendly person. I seperate my trash whenever possible and I don't pollute much (but soon will, have to learn to drive la). I even believe in the whole Global Warming CONspiracy!

So by putting two and two together through my insane powers of observation, I've come to this conclusion - Amsterdam hates me.

You see, I never did get to visit Amsterdam during my Epic Euro Escapade. And even before my arrival, the government decided to be prudent and made sure I didn't get my chance to try shrooms. They banned it 2 weeks before my arrival in Europe. I'm pretty sure the next time the Dutch government gets wind of my intention to visit them they'll burn all their weed and outlaw prostitution there.

So with my flight to Amsterdam cancelled, I had to find another means to get out of Germany and back home. I couldn't really complain at that point of time because my KLM return tickets were actually free (jealous right?), so I was already quite pleased that my trip didn't cost a bomb. I was however feeling quite bad for Princess Jiazi because she had to endure the delays due to my cheapskate-ness of wanting free tickets.

Therefore at a time when I was about to feel that I was no longer in the favour of the GOAT, we trooped down to the KLM ticket sales counter to see how we could get ourselves home. It didn't help that the fella manning the counter was this dude that dissed Princess Jiazi earlier when she enquired about getting on an earlier flight out of Frankfurt.

But once again, in the spirit of being cheap, I decided that I deserved upgraded tickets because I had already waited 3 hours for my cancelled flight and also simply because I'm downright awesome.

So how do you handle an overworked, underpaid and unimpressed counter staff and get things done your way? Well, most people need luck and providence.

Fortunately for me, I'm not most people and I'm armed with the tools of Service Staff Subduing (SSS, not to be confused with my Scale of Scary Shit).

First off, I unleashed my Killer Eyes of Consumer Determination. Early on while in the queue I made sure to make eye contact with the counter dude, letting him know that he was about to render service support to someone who won't take no for an answer. Staring deep into his eyes way past his retina and into his soul, he knew that I, the customer, am always right. He had no way out.

And when it was finally my turn, I opened my attack with my next tool - the Earnest Ice Breaker Smile of Disarmament. I smiled so earnestly that it would have been impossible to think that I just had my flight cancelled on me. All the defences the counter dude had built up after receiving the stare from my killer eyes came crashing down immediately. In that flash of a smile, he knew that if it had been any other situation other than customer/service staff scenario, we would have been instant best buds. He knew, right there and then, that he wanted to have my babies.

Knowing that I was on a streak, I brought out my last weapon of choice - Hypnotic Voice of Reason and Persuasion. The words of my request rolled off my tongue like melted butter on a perfect steak - 'Hello, I would like to get to Singapore, is it possible for a direct flight out of Frankfurt?'. It might not sound like a big deal now, but at that point of time the only option was to take an Air France flight to Paris and then from there back to Singapore.

So with fingers crossed, we waited as the counter dude typed in our request into his computer. As you will have it, the GOAT hasn't stopped smiling upon me and counter dude decided that it would do the world a great injustice if I had to fly connecting flights on KLM. Instead, he gave us direct tickets from Frankfurt to Singapore on SIA! So full of win!

I kid you not when I tell you his face lit up with so much joy as he delivered that good news to us. We bid our teary farewells and as I walked away and turned back to look at him, his face returned to his usual gloomy unimpressed expression as he served the next customer. I can't make such stuff up.

As if that wasn't enough to reaffirm my belief in the GOAT, another scenario popped up. Apparently since we were such last minute additions to the flight, the check-in lady told us we would not be sitting together. I was actually pretty contented at this point with our SIA tickets already.

But nigh! The GOAT decided that it wasn't enough. The check-in lady took it upon herself to see that we got to sit together. She told us to look for her at the boarding gates in an hour as she would be there doing tickets arrangements and giving us new boarding passes.

When we got to the gates, Princess Jiazi and I actually had a minor problem of remembering her face. There were 3 ladies at the counter and I decided that I should go to the one that looked the most familiar. This time round I brought out a new weapon from my arsenal - Harmless Approachable Face of Friendliness.

We were pondering how we should approach the lady and asking her about our boarding pass without letting slip the fact that we forgot how she looked like. Luckily enough with my Face of Friendliness, as I approached her she smiled and said 'Mr Lim, you're just the person I'm looking for!'

What. The. Fuck! She remembered my face AND my surname! Talk about service. Princess Jiazi chose to think that she remembered me only because I'm the only asian guy around at that time. I choose to believe that she remembered me because I'm crushingly awesome.

So awesome I am that she did indeed find a 3 seater row for us to sit together. And the GOAT decided that to make the trip home even more worthy of my sexiness - the third seat in the 3 seater row would be left empty so Princess Jiazi wouldn't have to squeeze with me and we'd have ample leg room.

I'm so full of air travel win and awesome-ness.

My ethics essay on why it's not your fault that you're self-centred

2008-11-15T03:14:00.000+08:00

I'm posting it here because it sapped so much of my life writing this piece of shit that I'll be doing myself a great injustice if no one else suffers the ordeal of reading it. Took me half a day in the library and 2pm to 3am in the canteen to churn this shit out. There's two parts to it, first my 1000 word mid term essay which paves the way to an expanded version of it in my final essay (3000 words). I'm predicting that no one will read till the very end and can understand what the hell I'm driving at.

Ethical Egoism – Overlooked and under-appreciated?

For this essay, I would like to propose that Ethical Egoism or the emphasis on self interest first is the basis of each person’s decision making process.

Ethical Egoism is defined by Osterberg as “that kind of normative theory the common and peculiar characteristic of which is that it prescribes or permits that anybody to whom it is addressed acts so as to promote his own good; by ‘good’ is meant here … the promotion of self-interest, …, in short anything that ethical egoists have offered as ultimate ends worth aiming at.”

It also highlights and relates to the principle of psychological egoism, which claims that “when people choose to help others, it is ultimately because of the personal benefits they themselves expect to obtain, directly or indirectly, from doing so.”

Moral decisions are made everyday and debated upon endlessly. Although many people use “applied” or “situational” ethics to study these decisions, an individual “cannot take himself/herself out” of the argument, i.e. there is no way for him/her to be objective. To take part in a debate, that said individual has to apply/subject the decision unto himself/herself and choose the ethical framework he/she wishes to argue with. Additionally they bring into the argument their own influences, normative beliefs and ideologies which may not directly apply to the topic being debated.

This step in the argument to choose a framework is the aporia in situational ethics. I want to propose that at this point that the action of “choosing” a framework is actually driven by ethical egoism. To put it in other words, a layman who has never taken a single class in ethics bases his decisions he makes on which decision maximizes his utility or self interest, the outcome of the decision might be one that reflects deontological (fulfilling duty as a citizen) or utilitarian (most number of people benefits) outcomes, but the basis of that decision lies in the man’s desire of fulfilling his self interests.

Take for example the scenario of fulfilling one’s duty as a citizen. It is debatable as to whether a citizen is truly devoted to the country and if the duties they fulfill for the state is out of moral obligation. When a Singaporean male serves national service, how much of it is duty to the country and how much of it is self interest? One can argue that most males in Singapore with self interest in mind would not want to spend 2 years of their lives serving in the army. They lag behind women in terms of education and career advancement. Furthermore, national service obligations have been an issue with employability. Therefore it would seem that serving national service would be a deontological decision, a duty to the country and not self-interest-serving.

However as I have mentioned above, given a choice men would rather not serve in the army. So why are they doing so? Laws, culture and social norms provide punishments and social sanctions for people who do not obey or follow. Serving national service would seem to be “fulfilling duty”. I propose that males in Singapore serve the army in their own self interest in light of the harsh laws governing army deserters and also the social sanctions of their peers who may view them in a negative light should they desert. They are serving the army because the alternatives to that would either be a hefty fine from the government, being thrown into detention or the hassle and difficult task of finding citizenship elsewhere. Their self interest therefore lies in the freedom they will gain after the obligation of national service and the lack of disincentives from not serving.

Another quick example would be the role of the government. Is it their duty to make a country prosper or is it in their self interest for the nation to prosper? It might seem like a myopic point because not all governments that existed drew a salary as a return for its services. It is a point to ponder then - what were their motivations to take up the role of a government?

When the class was given a hypothetical scenario in the first lecture regarding whether they would recommend abortion to Beethoven’s mother, it was a perfect example to illustrate ethical egoism.

The students in the class were placed in a situation where they would access their own ethical framework and analyze someone else’s decision. The moment they do this, their analysis will not be objective at all. Each ethical framework is normative in the sense that it tells us how to approach moral situations through the way things ought or should be.

Taking into account the fact that they will never truly experience what Beethoven’s mother experienced during her pregnancy and also the fact that the socio-cultural background of the late 18th century largely differs from today, even with substantial effort to empathize, students will choose ethical frameworks based on what they deem right. What they deem right is influenced by the ideology that they subscribe to.

If they conformed to Christian beliefs and chose to say that abortion is a sin, is this decision not because of their belief that by sinning, they face the wrath of God? Is it not then in their self interest to do what the bible tells them to be right or wrong? The decision they make here is influenced by consequence, a consequence dictated by a belief they subscribe to which in turn affects their perception self interest (in this case whether they get to go to heaven).

A critique of ethical egoism is best illustrated by Nielsen - “we have moral standards to impartially adjudicate the conflicting interests of individuals or groups; but if each individual’s own rational self-interest is taken as the standard, in reality we have no standard to adjudicate these conflicting interests. The very raison d’être of morality has been frustrated. Thus self-interest, no matter how enlightened, cannot be our standard of moral appraisal” .

He proposes that if it was an all out melee of self interest, there will be no set moral ethical standards to follow. From the examples I have put forth, I believe that it is the existing ethical frameworks that shape what people perceive to be their self interest. That is to say, what people perceive as best for themselves is done so and justified by what they already believe in

Self Interest in Egoism – Is it morality, prudence or both that drives our decisions?

Continuing from my mid term essay ‘Ethical Egoism – Overlooked and under-appreciated’, this essay aims to contend with my previous notion that ethical egoism should be the ethical framework each individual uses when making decisions.

However before I begin to elaborate on egoism, I bring forth the quote by Nielsen once again – ‘we have moral standards to impartially adjudicate the conflicting interests of individuals or groups; but if each individual’s own rational self-interest is taken as the standard, in reality we have no standard to adjudicate these conflicting interests. The very raison d’être of morality has been frustrated. Thus self interest, no matter how enlightened, cannot be our standard of moral appraisal.’

Nielsen points out that without existing moral frameworks, we as humans do not have any guide to our rational self interest. He contends that it is through moral frameworks that guides a person’s ethical decisions as opposed to egoism.

It is therefore imperative that a boundary be set for ‘self interest’ before any argument can be made about egoism. What does self interest constitute? Who sets this? The malleability of ‘self interest’ and indeed of any other definition and ethical framework poses a challenge to making ethical decisions.

Borrowing ideas from David Gauthier , I feel that self interest involves two aspects – morality and prudence. I propose that moral framework, socio-cultural factors and ideology construct morality in an individual’s concept of self interest. On the other hand, the biological instinct to survive and propagate (spread genes) forms the prudent aspect of self interest.

My conceptualization of self interest differs from Gauthier’s in one way. He believes that individuals make either moral or prudent decisions. He asserts that each of their decisions made in self interest should follow only prudence and that prudence is true self interest. I believe that morality and prudence exists within each individual’s self interest. Gauthier tries to define morality ‘as a system of principles such that it is advantageous for everyone if everyone accepts and acts on it, yet acting on the system of principles requires that some person perform disadvantageous acts.’

Let us take a look first at Gauthier’s perspective of morality and self interest to shed some light on egoism-driven decisions. His rationale that men should follow their own prudence stems from the disadvantage an individual suffers from making decisions based on morality while his/her peers make prudent decisions to take advantage of him/her. His argument follows the line of classical game theory. One example of such a situation is where two nations (USA and Russia) are engaged in an arms race and both nations view that both nations disarming themselves to be the best outcome between these nations. However, if one nation disarms while the other does not, it becomes highly disadvantageous for the nation that disarms and the one that violates the disarmament treaty gains the advantage over the other. This situation is represented by the decision matrix of both nations in the following way:

The numbers assigned in the boxes represent the desirability of the situation for each nation, 1 being the best and 4 being the worst. At present with both nations engaged in the arms race, the rank of the situation is similar to that of both nations violating the disarmament treaty, which is represented by the rank 3.

The moral thing to do for both nations is to adhere to the treaty, being moral in this case as Gauthier points out subjects both nations to performing a disadvantageous act. The disadvantage here is the potential for a nation to violate the treaty and to take advantage of the nation that adheres. Both nations that adhere would derive rank 2 in the matrix. It is not the most ideal situation since neither nation has an advantage over the other.

If both nations openly adhere, there are sufficient gains to be had from violating the agreement. If USA violates to move from rank 2 to rank 1, Russia will do likewise to violate and both nations will be back at rank 3. Assuming that adherence and violation is done secretly, i.e. nations do not know what each other is doing, both nations will choose to violate the treaty because there is least advantage to be lost. For example, if USA feels that Russia will adhere, it is prudent for USA to violate to gain rank 1. Conversely, if USA chooses to adhere it stands to lose the most if Russia chooses to violate. Thus, prudence takes precedence over morality in this situation. This is because according to game theory, individuals or nations in this case, make decisions that will maximize their utility (or advantage in this situation) independent of what other individuals or nations do even though the decisions made by other individuals or nation directly affect the outcome of their decision.

So it would seem that the decision made by both nations is out of pure prudence, since morality would have put them in clear disadvantageous positions. Here actually, the ‘slippery’ nature of language or playing with semantics can actually frame this decision to violate the treaty as one of morality instead of prudence.

Re-examining the definition of morality by Gauthier, ‘everyone’ in the definition was said to be USA and Russia, but one can take ‘everyone’ to mean the citizens of just USA as opposed to ‘USA and Russia’. ‘Disadvantageous act’ instead of representing the act of disarming which leads to vulnerability can represent the citizens of USA condoning the nation’s seemingly immoral decision to violate the disarmament treaty. Therefore, one can argue that the American citizens have a ‘duty’ as citizens to condone its government’s actions to continually build arms even though it is not in their best interest to do so (their interest in this case can be the peace that disarmament possibly affords or the military budget being channeled to help citizens instead). It would seem that this line of argument fits nicely with my concept of ‘self interest’ which constitutes morality (on the citizen’s part) and prudence (on the nation’s action vis-à-vis another nation’s), i.e. it is moral of me as a citizen to condone my nation’s action as prudent.

This argument however at best is flawed because it hinges on a willful play on semantics and may not necessarily hold water. At best, it illustrates that many parties are involved in an ethical situation of a macro level such as bi-lateral disarmaments and that the issue is framed differently via the different lenses (citizens, state, self, other) that the issue is being viewed through.

Therefore this highlights one issue I pointed out earlier, which is this - without boundaries, any ethical framework or definition of a concept is malleable (depending on who is involved or ‘looking at’ the issue).

This brings us back again to this question – who sets these boundaries? In the case of Russia against USA, who can claim the right to decide whose prudence or morality is being taken into consideration? How many voices do we suppress when we adopt one framework over the other?

If frameworks are malleable, do we not then mould these frameworks after our own self interests?

Perhaps looking at the macro level complicates things too much. Let us explore on the level of individuals. What better way to illustrate the case of morality versus self interest between individuals than the use of the Prisoner’s Dilemma?

In the matrix given above which shares some similarity to matrix of the disarmament treaty, two prisoners who collaborated in a robbery are given a chance to confess their part of a crime, both prisoners however have no idea what each other is going to do.

Although the best outcome to take is seemingly to not confess and stay silent, which also is the most immoral choice to take by societal standards, both prisoners to their best of their knowledge will not stay silent. Again like the previous example, the disadvantages of staying silent far outweigh the disadvantages of confessing. Thus although it seems counter-intuitive for both prisoners to confess, they do so for fear of being betrayed by the other prisoner. It would seem that what they are doing (confessing) would be one of morality, since most society value honesty and integrity as moral standards. However, the decision to confess to the crime here is made out of prudence and self interest. Both prisoners were more concerned over the number of years they have to serve rather than upholding society’s demand for honesty.

A counter-argument to this is of course, why is it not possible for the prisoners to be honest? Though it is tempting to dismiss that notion by arguing that if they were honest, they would not be caught for robbing in the first place, we should instead first study their rationale to be honest.

What purpose does it fulfill for the prisoner to be honest? ‘Honest is good’ is something that is constructed by society. Indeed the concept of honesty is alien to Nature. Animals tell no lies since they have no speech and without lies there is no concept of dishonesty or honesty. In effect, being honest is part of a social contract. For it is through accepting the constraints of a social contract that a man/woman be able to live in harmony with his peers whom too are bound by the same contract set down by a collective body (usually a government). Thus being honest serves the prisoner the benefit of being once again accepted into society barring his previous attempt of breaching it by robbing. Being honest allows him to serve his jail sentence and return to the embrace of his society. It would seem that being honest stems from morality, but in fact the morality of being honest is constructed by society and the impetus of the prisoner to be honest is in self interest and desire to belong to the society.

Thomas Hobbes nicely reinforces the point about self interest and social contracts. He proposes that Men on the most primal level are creatures of self interest (which actually supports my egoism stance) and without a common Power (governance) to unite them they will be in a constant state of War (anarchy). He states that Men according to the Law of Nature strive to survive, even at the expense of the survival of others, thus it impedes on the Rights of others to survive. Following with Reason, comes Men’s subordination to Reason to not rob other men’s Right to live and to endeavor to seek Peace wherever possible and to lay down as much of his Rights as he needs to gain liberty against other men insomuch as he would allow other men to gain against himself. To uphold this arrangement among men, a Covenant (social contract) is formed. Men either upheld the contract or breached it by their actions. It is to say in order to protect his own rights and self interest, an individual renounces some of his rights in order to come under the protection of a social contract which grants him liberty from other individual’s right to impede on his own rights in search of survival. Breaching of this contract strips him of this liberty granted upon him.

It would then seem that self interest is an echo of the morality (the social contract) of the society in which it is constructed. Self interest then drives a person’s ethical decision in his prudent effort to uphold his/her place in the society.

The contention here then is – if moral frameworks shape self interest and prudence drives action/decision, is it egoism (namely prudence) or the particular moral framework (morality) that is responsible for the action/decision? It feels like a ‘chicken or egg came first’ question because we must again ask, who decides which moral framework is useful for society and how they did they ultimately arrive at this decision?

In a purely hypothetical situation, suppose out of ‘pure’ utilitarian motivations, a society prescribes that all decisions are made based on the utilitarian doctrine – all for the greater good. It would require that all subjects of this society be stripped of their autonomy. This is because by maximizing utility or gaining the greatest amount of good from every decision entails that subjects of this society will be bound by ‘duty’, a duty to perform action wherever possible to maximize utility for the society. No self interest will ever take precedence over duty within these individuals. Who then prescribes what is good for this society?

If every member in this society do not know what is self interest or what is good for them as an individual, how can they know what is good for society which is a collective of individuals? For someone (dictator) or some entity (like a government) to set the boundaries of what is good, they need to know what is the greater good for society, how can they know what is the greater good if their subjects do not have any idea as well? A case of the blind leading the blind would ensue.

So with no one else to look to, would their self interests not then be implicated within their utilitarian doctrine? As I proposed, if self interest involves prudence and morality, in this case in the absence of prior morality to look to, it would seem that prudence takes precedence.

One final attempt at overthrowing the notion of self interest driving humans in making decisions is the case of sacrificing one’s life. What exactly drives people to sacrifice their own lives to save others? The ‘golden rule’ of do unto others what you hope they do unto you does not apply here because when you die for others it robs them of the chance to do it back to you, it is not logical therefore to argue only this line. Other than the reason ‘because they just do’, I can only argue based on biology and evolution. The individual’s desire for someone else’s survival can be attributed to Kin Selection or the Selfish Gene . The argument behind the selfish gene is that through evolution, organisms are predisposed to propagate their genes as far and wide and numerous as possible even at the expense of its own survival. This probably can explain how mothers more often than not are willing to die for their children. It’s in their genes to want to ensure that future generations of their genes are able to reproduce. I will stop short of calling this prudent self interest because the line between autonomous free will and genetic traits controlling instinct is blurred that I cannot offer an absolute standpoint. In addition, the selfish gene only explains self sacrifice for genes that belong to the same gene pool. It does not explain the sacrifice of life for individuals that have no relations at all – like the firefighters who gave their lives trying to save people in the world trade center during the 911 attacks. The answer to this mystery however is forever lost with the firefighters who died. That is the catch 22 of sacrifice. We will never know the motivation for it because the bearers of that answer are always dead and answers offered by the living can never capture the essence of the sacrifice.

It would seem that my arguments are reductive in the sense that I reduce every single ethical decision to fit into humans’ desire for prudence in their self interest. I attempted to situate morality as an aspect of self interest to try to argue that perhaps humans follow a framework other than their primal instinct to survive. However through my arguments and thoughts, it would seem that self interest in egoism although shaped by morality, is still ultimately driven by prudence. That is to say, when confronted with an ethical decision, a person uses morality as a guide to prescribe the course of his action but the decision to carry forth that action is ultimately driven by prudence – the most primitive form of self interest. This sounds extremely close to situational ethics but the biggest difference I have to reiterate is that situational ethics considers ethical egoism as one framework to be used as opposed to my argument that every decision involves egoism.

Perhaps the best way to conclude this essay is a quote by David Hume which sums up perfectly the contention between morality and prudence - ‘What theory of morals can ever serve any useful purpose, unless it can show, by a particular detail, that all the duties which it recommends, are also the true interest of each individual?’ What better theory then to use than one individual’s own?

References
Anonymous. Prisoner’s Dilemma. Wikipedia Extracted 13 Nov 2008 from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prisoner's_dilemma

Dawkins, R (1978) The Selfish Gene. N.Y. Oxford University Press

Gauthier, D (1961) Morality and Advantage. Philosophical Review, Vol 76, 460-475

Hume, D (1957) An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Morals, sec. 9. pt 2.

Hobbes, T (1991) Leviathan. N.Y. Cambridge University Press

Nielsen, K (1997). Why be Moral? N.Y. Prometheus Books

Chris Rock speaks my truth

2008-11-05T19:55:00.000+08:00

For years countless people (many girls included) have dissed me for preferring Zouk to Phuture on Mambo night. How can anyone not like Mambo and Rick Astley? They prefer to squeeze jam packed into phuture with all that R & B shit. And for years I've been telling them they've been shaking their booty to songs that demean women, but no one cares! Why?! Perhaps I don't articulate my point across properly... So I guess I have to let Chris (the person that partly inspired me to start blogging) do the talking.

Enjoy

And they say procrastinating is like masturbation...

2008-10-30T20:59:00.000+08:00

Like they say... it feels good at first but soon you realise you're fucking yourself.

I have no problems with procrastinating actually. If like masturbation, done in the privacy of your own room and you don't affect anyone, procrastination is good clean healthy fun!

But when it comes to project work, it's hair-tearing when you have group mates who are the kings of last minute. So what if they think that their ideas are fucking brilliant?

It's one thing to procrastinate things that affect only you.... but masturbating when other people are around is just plain wrong.

It's really irritating when they can say "I work well only under pressure from impending deadlines". By impending deadline they mean less than 8 hours to the deadline.

What. The. Fuck?

It may sound damn convenient, but what they are actually saying is "We are given two months to do this, but I honestly prefer to just spend 4 hours doing this shit in the must half-assed manner and hand it up 15 minutes AFTER the deadline".

How can anyone expect good shit from work that is rushed out without proper thought? Shit yes. Good stuff, no.

I am so tired of trying to push for things to happen. Maybe it's largely my fault for not doing more and assuming I can count on such people. Luckily I'm not the one who has to worry about getting stuck in 3rd class. Fucktards.

Life has an appetite. Its diet is me. Part II

2008-10-14T17:43:00.000+08:00

Yes yes, finally a sincere attempt from me to write something remotely entertaining for my waning fan base of rockin' readers of good taste in all that is fine in internet literature.

Peeps who know me and worship my life's ups and downs will know that I haven't been swimming through a sweet smelling bed of roses recently. Some of you already know, school's been deliciously horrible to me in terms of work output, grades and project progress.

Having recently celebrated my 24th birthday with one of the most kickass bunch of people you could ever meet, I have been introduced to a sobering and harsh truth of life - I need to man up and move out on my own.

Alas, Singapore isn't a place for boys to turn into men this way. Although I've optimistically approached and been approached by potential roomies, in this part of Singapore, money makes the world go round. Thus I've been introduced a second sobering truth of life - I'm fucking broke and will be this way for quite some time to come.

So with a shitty academic life, a failed attempt at skirt chasing which ended up in me falling flat on my face (figuratively), no money, no honey, nobody loving me and no place to move out to, I begin to wonder...

How will Life screw with me after squashing me down on the floor with its thumb?

What will Life offer me as I struggle pitifully, writhing in my own realisation that life sucks?

Well my friends, Life does indeed offer you many things other than lemons. The coup de grace, so to speak (for my non-french-speaking readers it is the proverbial final thumb turning action to end the life of whatever you are squishing), is that Life offered me a fall.

Nope not fall from grace, not hubris (pride before the fall), not fall from the sane train but a simple fall. A fall literally while I was chasing after the skirt aforementioned above.

If you are still confused by all that flowery language I have used, let me put it in simpler terms, I fell down la.

So how can falling down sum up how shitty my life is? I didn't break anything physical I guess, I'm still sexily athletic as of now (I fell 2 hours prior to this post).

What it broke though was my spirit. The spirit that reminds me everyday "hey life sucks, deal with it and smile."

Anyway enough of the emo part, here's a blow by blow account of my spectacular losing battle with gravity and friction.

Before I begin to recount falling down, let's start with how I kicked off my day. It started with a nice breakfast and watching Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull which I downloaded (more power to pirates!). Anyway enough of the mundane. The important part was my choice of wardrobe.

As usual, I picked the fashion-world shattering chic ensemble of T-shirt and berms. The only difference today is that I chose to wore my "I'm entitled to be Grumpy" tee.

I figured by observation and self-reflection that this semester was so shitty because I failed to wear this kickass piece of garment. During my insanely powerful academic ownage in year 2 and 3, I wore it religiously throughout. The foreboding words coupled with a cartoon character with killer eyes and folded arms on the tee meant that no dimwit would ever dare refute my opinions in class.

Thus I left home, chin up, head high and with an aura of educational murder.

Fast forward 4 hours. Basically lecture ended and the girl whom I was skirt-chasing walked out of the hall pretty quickly. I, being the slow ass I am, didn't know if I was supposed to follow. Then I saw her turning her head back twice to look at me (I think) but maintained her forward pace of urgency.

I had no idea if she wanted me to follow her or was she staring me down to stop following. Anyway optimistic me guessed the former and I picked up my pace.

Havaianas' obviously lied when they gave the promise of producing non-stink & non-slip flip flops.

While trying hard to keep up, I must have missed the barely visible puddle of water on the ceramic tiles. What followed proves that the brain is an extremely powerful tool of processing, because in the 3 seconds of the entire episode, many things shot through my mind.

My left foot began the great spirit-breaking fall. The slipper on that foot failed to gain any traction and in my powerful 350 horse power stride to try to keep up with the girl, my foot slid forward instead.

I knew immediately that I was going down (proof #1 that brain is powerful). My incredulous cat-like reflexes quickly adjusted my right leg in such a way so that my right knee slammed onto the floor instead of me falling backwards and landing on my head/back. My arms also flew into the air to maintain balance to prevent me from falling sideways. A few people cowered in fear because they thought I was going to unleash crane-styled kung fu upon them.

Mind you, lecture just ended. So the whole world, by that I mean the entire lecture group for Genes and Society (which means 350 people), was outside the lecture hall witnessing my insane agility.

Ok, I exaggerate, only about 15 people was around me when it happened.

Also due to my incredibly powerful and sensual loins, my left leg stopped sliding forward even though it carried 350 horse power and thus preventing the injury that would come by if I had done a glamourous leg split in the puddle. And it also prevented the potential injuries by girls fainting on the spot after witnessing my manly leg split.

Between the split second my left foot was sliding out and my right knee saying "hello" to the floor, I heard the guy behind me say out loud "Oh dear" in the most effeminate of ways.

This further proves that the brain is a fucking powerful processing tool because right before my knee hit the floor, the thought "oh my god that's fucking gu niang" flashed through my head. And which guy in his right mind says "Oh dear" in the first place? What happened to good ol' manly "Oh fuck" "Nabei" "Crap" "Shit". Why "Oh dear"?

It was such a convenient thought because it made my mind focus on pondering about the sexual orientation of the guy behind me instead of the cracking pain of my right knee cap.

Anyway as I said the episode lasted 3 seconds because I immediately picked myself up and caught up with the girl. Of course, I didn't look back because I didn't have time to deal with the tonnes of girls there who wanted to lovingly nurse my irresistable knee cap back to health. One could feel their eyes burning into the back of your skull with so much intense lust.

Alas, while walking with her to the bus stop, the thought "why am I so fucking suay?" was stuck in my mind.

A shitty semester plus a shitty fall in one of my favourite tees was just about enough to break my spirit.

However, now 4 hours after the fall, my resilient spirit of cynicism is back again and I'm proud to report that it takes more than a stupid fall and shitty sem to kill me. And I hope this post brought a few smiles to my incredible friends and readers.

Yes the unfunny posts just keep coming in.

2008-10-12T17:58:00.000+08:00

It's really been a long dry spell for me. No idea why but I just haven't got any inspiration to write about anything funny. All I can say is, school is sapping what little morsel of joy I have away.

Perhaps after my epic Euro trip this end of the year I'll give you some entertaining accounts.

A few days ago someone reminded me once again what a cynic I am. Again I tried to explore the possibility of me ever believing in anything good, or even *gasp* a religion.

And yet again, the conclusion is that I can't seem to see past all the shit that happens everyday to allow myself any hope or faith.

In fact, I'm pretty contented to acknowledge that life sucks and I can handle it.

“Scratch any cynic and you’ll find a disappointed idealist.” - George Carlin

PAP has impeccable timing

2008-09-29T23:28:00.001+08:00

I know I blast the government a lot yet still try to empathize with them. But someone over there really needs to hire a policy maker with COMMON SENSE.

What's the point of giving people GST credits only to tell us electricity bills are going up 22%?

Yes, the government is doing a good job of keeping this resource-less island afloat and making it a shining beacon of capitalist hope around this region. I hope and pray that the meltdown in USA won't hit us too badly. Doesn't seem the case yet but fingers are crossed here.

But fuck man, they really don't know how to boost the morale of citizens. First they up their own salaries and rub it in in the worst of ways and now they increase the electricity bills.

I know it's only fair to up the bills since oil prices likes to defy gravity, but why can't they let us enjoy that extra few hundred dollars for a few months before breaking the news of the price hike to us?

Why are they so responsible!? Giving us money only to take it away swiftly lest we squander it all away.

Ethics and a tinge of regret.

2008-09-03T21:21:00.000+08:00

School has made me appreciate how lovely it is to be able to wake up everyday without worrying about deadlines or a paycheck.

Then again, after having taken 4 weeks of Ethics classes, I'm beginning to have a little regret for staying on for honours.

I find myself clueless at some of the intellectual debates in classes, especially those involving ethical decisions.

The whole premise of the module is to question moral decisions using various ethical frameworks and see if you will make a better informed decision.

It gets tiring.

Everyday we make snap decisions be it in relationships or at work because we need to. Delaying usually means incurring costly mistakes. Where will we find the time to sit down and debate internally the ethical and moral repercussions?

And let's face it. Truth is always subjective. What you find right, will always certainly be wrong in someone else's opinion. So what's the point of debating whether or not you'll be right in your decision when there most definitely will be someone who agrees with you out there. I say, pick the decision which lets you sleep at night and get on with life.

Anyway sorry again for a non-entertaining rant post. I hope something irritates me enough to post some funny shit.

NDP rally speech

2008-08-17T03:02:00.000+08:00

It's 14 hours to the NDP rally speech... I would like to say that if LHL's speech talks about F1 and relates it to Singapore's need for more engineering students, I had a part in crafting that portion of that speech.

The state of affairs

2008-07-28T20:49:00.000+08:00

Commuting on public transport really shows you the side of life the government is eager to not promote.

It's already become commonplace and even socially acceptable for people to not give up seats on the train. Seeing it happen each day is beginning to numb me. Maybe one day I'll be one of those people on the seats not giving a damn.

Today something sobering happened. The dude I was standing in front of got off his seat. No, I did not fight off the hoards of clamouring trolls for the seat that I had the perfect angle to swoop in for.

Instead, this nice old lady beside me looked up at me with all the earnesty in her eyes, asked for my permission to sit down.

That really hit me in the gut. The day has arrived where the elderly start asking young people if they could have the seat on the train. I fear the only direction this situation is headed for is downwards in an unstoppable spiral.

The people who are entitled are giving up, while the people who are obligated aren't giving a damn.

Social science: Saving Singaporeans from themselves one step at a time.

2008-06-30T20:23:00.000+08:00

After a dinner of extremely owning ramen somewhere along South Bridge Road with rogue financial guru Wei Shu, we spent some time discussing how to earn money.

Of the plethora of salaries you can draw out there, it would seem that being in finance does indeed have its devilish draw. You sell your soul for money for a few years and use the money to buy back a few years' worth of happiness later on (discounted cash flow and inflation adjustments all calculated in, of course).

I wonder if I should try dabbling in the finance sector too...

Well, enough about that. As the blog title suggests, social sciences in Singapore sucks. Why? Because there are so many social issues yet you don't see any prominent social scientist giving two hoots about it. They leave it up to the ministers to drill in the fact that we are a world class society hoping one day we will believe that horse shit.

I know it sounds like a baseless accusation, but this whole blog post was inspired today during my commute on the MRT.

Have no fear though! I shall save Singaporeans from their own destructive selfs using the most casual social science approach. I firmly believe that social science as a whole has no particular significance except for the inflated importance proposed by academics who study ARTS but want to sound like they do something useful.

Moving on, I will propose a solution that 1)is way better than what SMRT does now, 2)will cost close to nothing, 3)actually helps SMRT MAKE MORE MONEY.

I shall first explore why retards (Singaporeans and foreigners living in Singapore) act the way they do during their daily MRT commute. The most commonly observed behaviour would be for example, camping right smack in the middle of the door trying to squeeze in, standing on the right side of the escalator while denying passage for commuters in a hurry and not giving up seats to the needy and elderly.

But for simplicity's sake, I shall just focus on the door camping.

This phenomenon can easily be explained by the concept of Kiasu-ism. The fear that by letting your peers around you gain that morsel of an advantage will leave you forever at the bottom rung of society.

But since this post has a social science approach, I must make it more academic and make myself sound fucking absorbed with my own intellect and wit!

So we'll introduce game theory! The premise of game theory is very simple. I've in fact used it in THIS post.

Basically game theory proposes that an individual, to the best of his abilities, will make a choice that he deems to give him the best outcome independent of the choice made by his peers, but the choice made by he and his peers affects the outcome.

Sounds complicated right? I'll use a little humour to make it easier to understand. Please take a look at this game table -

Disclaimer: Characters depicted here bearing resemblance to anybody living or dead is purely coincidental

Ok, this probably isn't the best game table to use, but I think it illustrates perfectly how game theory works in real life situations.

The utopian outcome would be obviously to have no farts from either Vincent or Jiazi. But the thing is, neither party knows if the other party is capable of holding their gas in.

So if they chose not to fart, they are gambling with the outcome that the other party won't fart too. But the disincentive involved when the other party farts is considerable to.

Don't fart = chance of a good return but with considerable risk of gas poisoning.

Fart = no chance of optimal returns but acceptable compromise (loving and stinking couple).

So the best choice Vincent and Jiazi can make, given the limited flatulence information of their partner, is to fart.

Now back to the door campers. Their game table will look something like
this -

Again, clogging up the entrance does not look as attractive as the orderly and efficient system. Surely people being smart as they are would choose the orderly system right? Trot down to any MRT station and observe for yourself. So why aren't commuters choosing to do things the latter, better way?

The simple explanation would be that given the choices, returns and risks involved, people simply chose the path they thought to be most prudent. In other words, they aren't very far sighted and.... People. Are. Retards.

Oh and on top of that, people are incentive driven and risk adverse in general. A point you should keep in mind as I ramble on.

So given that fact about humans, why is SMRT doing jack shit about this camping situation?

Sure they paint those pathetic lines at on the floor, but they stopped there. Why? I'll never know.

But what I know is that they don't seem to want to commit any more resources to improve this situation. Take for example the recent few cases of people falling or being pushed onto the MRT track. Barricades can be installed by the privatized PUBLIC transport (do you see the oxymoron there?) company, but they have decided that installing a few barricades greatly hurts their bottomline.

Anyway I'm not here to discuss about the inept SMRT management. I'm here to offer a solution that benefits Singaporeans and SMRT's profit.

First there has to be intervention by SMRT. Because people, retarded as they are, when left to their own devices, conform to game theory and will do the most un-intuitive things.

I notice that every morning during the peak periods between 8 and 9, the station manager posts someone on the platform. The person holds a hugeass walkie talkie and presumably monitors commuters and the train traffic. Other than that, the SMRT personnel does nothing while on the platform apart from looking really important with that walkie talkie.

So, instead of wasting precious resources, it's high time SMRT got commuters to queue up.

OOOOOH BIG NO NO. I'm guessing many of you are thinking this way. In fact I do think it's something HARD to do, but NOT IMPOSSIBLE. Take a look at the subway system of Taipei or Bangkok. People actually queue up! So retarded hor?

As they say, the first step is always the hardest. A PR campaign probably has to be launched, better lines to be drawn on platform floors and staff trained to facilitate the queuing.

Wait! Somebody noticed that I said my solution costs close to nothing! And now I'm proposing PR campaigns?! With lines drawn?! Actually painting to be done?! HOLY FUCK WHAT LIES!

Relax... Costing close to nothing is obviously relative to the profits posted by SMRT. Frankly speaking, all it takes is a press release to SPH, a phone call to Mediacorp and a few strings pulled within the vast network of the government. Voila! Free publicity and public awareness. They probably have to pay for the paint job and printing cost for posters to tell Singaporeans not to be retards.

Once the public has been educated on the rules of boarding the trains, while SMRT personnel facilitate the queuing procedure, society norms and sanctions will take care of the rest.

Currently, camping at the doors is deemed mildly undesirable, BUT since many people are doing it, it's not something that is of a taboo or looked down upon. In fact there is a tired sort of empathy - "yeah squeezing in is probably the only way to get on the train".

But all this will change the moment queuing starts to kick in. Since the whole world no longer camps at the doors, the minute number of deviant commuters will have a hard time shamelessly standing in front of the doors.

It's not an easy feat to stand there with their thick hides while 20 pairs of eyes stare you down with contempt and muttering curses on your family.

Granted, there indeed are people with impregnable sense of shame, but these are few and far between. Seeing how Singaporeans have the no U turn syndrome, having SMRT personnel tell them what to do should do the trick.

Soon such deviant behaviour will be eliminated with the threat of social sanctions.

Think about it this way, the most door camping action takes place at the busiest stations namely those in the CBD. Previously, everyone was squeezing in front of the door so it's hard to spot who's who.

With the queuing system in place, it's not difficult for a co-worker or your MANAGER to spot the shameless door camper in you. The disincentive to jump the queue and door camp rises sharply.

And with the new system, the rewards of the orderly and efficient commute is visible. The disincentive to cut queues, as mentioned above, is also visible.

I also mentioned this would mean more revenue for SMRT. How so?

Previously I've read about the plight of train commuters and the sentiments of the average joe. They feel that SMRT probably doesn't care about the morning squeeze or that sometimes they have to wait for 3 to 5 trains to go by before they can board.

They are right. SMRT is probably more concerned about revenue. As long as you tapped your EZ link card. They don't care you're stuck on the platform. You've already helped them earn money.

Let's revisit why people squeeze in front of the door.

There are quite a number of reasons. First, they want a seat. Or perhaps they've already missed 3 trains and hate to miss another. Perhaps they don't want to have to miss 3 trains. Or some retard out-squeezed him to get onto the train. Sometimes it's already a habit. And so they squeeze. When they fail to get in, what do they think?

"Fucking SMRT doesn't have enough train trips for us. Fuck them. Fuck that retard that out squeezed me." That's probably what they think. They won't blame themselves for not waking up earlier to catch the emptier trains or that they are not willing to take emptier trains later.

They expect that the moment they reach the station, they will have a space on board, even if it meant fighting for it.

With the queue system, we can manage this expectation.

Since everything is orderly, the time a person has to wait to board a train becomes more predictable. If given that 815am - 830pm is the time where most people are waiting for trains, people can have a reasonable gauge of how long they have to wait in queue.

They either resign to that fate or decide to come later or earlier. Once unpredictability is taken out of the equation and replaced with an expected wait time, complaints will only be concentrated on long, but predictable wait times. This can be easily explained and justified by the maxed out train capacity and frequency.

Also queues give a clearer indication to which part of the carriage will have lesser people (by judging the queue lengths), thus passengers can be evenly distributed among the train. Getting more people onto the trains.

So how does this help SMRT earn money? Well the devious part is, since all the expectation is managed, the train frequency can be cut back while maintaining the argument that they are in fact running at full capacity.

The retards won't know because they are given a fixed amount of expected time to wait. They count down the wait time like the happy gerbils they are. Orderly waiting is generally a more pleasant experience than a mad rush.

So here's a quick recap.
1. Humans left alone are MRT retards.
2. SMRT intervenes with minimal effort required
3. Queue system put in place
4. Chaotic commute turns into orderly wait
5. Everyone's a little happier

Oh by the way, I'm sure many people will question the validity of the Fart game. The common sense solution will for both of them to tell each other not to fart.

In fact if we were to go through several iterations of the fart game between Vincent and Jiazi, they will "intervene" by telling each other to not fart, much like the way SMRT personnel intervene by introducing the queue system.

The epic sprained ankle

2008-06-23T20:28:00.000+08:00

Yes my friends, here's the long overdue post on how I sprained my gorgeous ankle.

It all began with an impulse. The impulse to get a tan and to tone up my flabby man boobs. It was a great Saturday morning for some awesome hoop action so I decided I would go play some ball at the court downstairs of my new house.

Shoot hoops alone.. So cool right? I also say.

There's nothing wrong in wanting to do some exercise, be it alone or in a group. But please my friends if you ever plan to exercise especially after a long period of non-activity, DO YOUR FUCKING WARM UPS!

So I was doing my thing, dribbling and shooting like McGrady and being totally awesome when I decided to up the tempo and do a series of consecutive shots under the basket.

Well as you have it, my penchant for being utterly idiotic and getting into stupid situations started to kick in.

One bad jump followed by one bad landing. Normal people land on their feet. Hardcore men of action like Chuck Norris and I try to push the boundaries. So I landed directly on my left ankle.

Unfortunately, I'm not immortal like Chuck Norris.

The moment I landed, my face looked a little like this -

Just a split second of shock and a little sharp pain shot up through the roof of my head.

It was the look of agony and disbelief. Disbelief that I had actually hurt my invincible body. If Achilles had his heel, I had my ankle.

Spraining your ankle for the first time in a long time is like having your heart broken.

First there is denial. You deny that anything so stupid could have happened to you. You refuse to acknowledge the pain that is radiating from your heart/ankle.

In fact you try to convince yourself that you're so strong and so hardy that you must get back up on your two feet (pun intended) and walk steadfast into the winds of change.

Well, it's easy to walk when you've got a broken heart. Not so easy when you just landed on your ankle.

I was stupid enough to get back onto my feet and try to do a jump shot again. Yes not the smartest of things to do but I was in denial ok?

When I landed after the second jump shot I kinda looked like this -

Thus I decided to swallow my pride, pack my things and take the long walk of shame back home. It didn't help that people on the court noticed my short-lived basketball career of 5 minutes at the court.

If landing on the ankle gave me piercing pain, walking back home gave me profound torment.

So agonizing was the walk that several times I white out with the pain. I'd look up, wince in torture and I wonder if I could ever make it back.

The outside of my ankle was where I had sprained it. But the sheer inability of my foot to function properly added too much pressure on the entire foot. Thus I think I injured the inner side the foot during the walk home. Oh yeah by the way, while walking back, I looked some what like this -

When I reached home I told my Mom that the most incredulous thing had happened to me. That I actually sprained my ankle. I can't remember when was the last time. I think the Backstreet Boys were popular when I sprained it.

After lecturing me for not warming up while I was in too much pain to care, she brought me to a Chinese Sin Seh. Damn I must say, all those years where I was skeptical about any Traditional Chinese Medicine was immediately erased the moment the Sin Seh stuck an accupuncture needle into my throbbing ankle.

Instant. Relief.

Here are some exciting pictures!

Alas, after 6 weeks the swell isn't completely gone but I can moonwalk like a pro. Don't think I can run or jump just yet. Taught me a valuable lesson though.

Didn't help that the week I injured myself was the week where my internship was starting. So I had to limp around like a trooper and pretending IT DIDNT HURT LIKE FUCK.

Sorry to my friends whom I had to turn down gracing their social engagements with my awe-inspiring presence due to my swollen foot. I'll make it up to you soon haha.

Insights

2008-06-12T21:02:00.000+08:00

It's exactly a month since I've started my internship at Saatchi. Great place and great people.

I'm the only intern fortunate enough to have been involved in a major pitch, Lovemarks training and doing actual field research for the strategy planners.

What spurred me on to write this post is the Lovemarks training I've helped film for the past two days. Coincidentally around the same time, I picked up the book Freakonomics.

Both the training and book promoted the practice of not taking things at face value. Digging that bit deeper for valuable insight and the reason behind why people buy what they buy or what exactly do they believe in when they watch an ad.

I really like the whole premise of a Lovemark - that is developing high love and respect for a brand. Most often, you see ads shouting how good they are, boasting how great their products can be. They MAY only garner respect if people see tangible results from the product promise, but it doesn't go beyond respect.

You're not going to love your toothpaste because it has 50% more flouride. You're not going to love your camera because it can detect 100 faces with 20 megapixels.

Rational product promises are not going make you LOVE a brand. That's because there are plenty of brands offering the same product promises.

So if all the brands out there are shouting how they are bigger, better, newer, then they become as unique and special as any other competing brand there is.

The clincher with the Lovemark is, you recognize that people attach emotion to everything. There's no exception - unless you're dead.

So when you want to sell toothpaste, you don't say how much damn plaque it removes. You find out the feelings and insights from users of the toothpaste.

It could be something simple like "I obviously brush to not get dragonbreath the morning after" or "I'm secretly addicted to the taste of my toothpaste".

It's simple things like that that can help you craft your creative work. So the tagline to your toothpaste can be something with more life and emotion attached to it, something like "Not only your tongue will love this taste" (ok i'm sorry it sounds cheezy I spent 2 minutes thinking this up but you get the drift).

Now for the camera, it's the same drill... Every other camera out there will have multiple face detection and gazillion megapixel count. You've got to dig deeper.
"Taking photos you can't wait to upload" certainly sounds better than "20 megapixels and smart smile detection".

Another really important thing I learnt is that you shouldn't call the people buying products target consumers. Consumer is just a really dead and faceless word. What does it really mean? They consume the camera you sell to them?

We should be calling them terms like photographers or people who want to capture memories. It livens up who you're exactly trying to sell things to.

It puts a face to the name. Instead of the cold and generic "Male 20 - 35" which totally makes no sense since there could be thousands of categories that lie within male 20 - 35.

I really wish I could express how impressed and excited I was about what I've learnt better but simply writing it here does it no justice.

So please my friends, do ask me about it the next time we meet.

An update on my existence

2008-06-02T00:30:00.000+08:00

Sorry my loyal fans (yes, I'm that shameless) for not having updated the blog in over a month. Been too busy and too injured (I promise I'll write something funny about my epic sprained ankle next time when I'm feeling more inspired).

I've had a nagging want to just blog about random stuff going on in my life and also things I've been thinking about. At first I was reluctant to put them here because I started this blog to entertain, not to bore people with my inane monologue or the incredibly self-doubting voice inside my head.

But well, I just needed a place to let some stuff out and it'll be nice to know that people I know out there share this stuff with me. Even if you don't care, pretend you do, you freeloading bastards.

Pardon me for the excessively long and highly un-flowing post ahead.

Grandma

For the past few months my Grandma's been in and out of the hospital. No biggies, just some flu and infection but you know how it is with old people and immune systems.

Somewhere in February, it came to light that my Grandma was going senile. I was quite upset. More upset at the fact that I didn't make an effort to get to know her.
It sounds cliche, I know. Even you people reading this stuff will think "yeah, I should really cherish my loved ones" but how many will actually make that effort?

It's hard. I'm still finding it hard to reconcile my relationship with my dad, even as I look at my Grandma. People always regret. It's like a heuristic when it comes to handling life's tougher decisions. Sit on it (the issue) and regret later.

When I saw her in the hospital in February, she didn't know who I was. I think that was the first time in my life that I held her hand for quite some time. You don't know what she's thinking. Is she suffering? Or is she blissfully in her own world now and the real people suffering are the ones around her that didn't make the effort.

Last Saturday I went to visit her again at her house. Somehow her dementia seems to have gotten a little bit better. She recognizes me and my brother. She wants to split her imaginary million dollars between me and my brother. The way she talks is almost childlike now and you can sense that she no longer has any worries left in this world. I am very thankful for that.

Even if I had no part in this.

KTV

I love it.

I don't see how anybody could not like KTV. It's liberating to just sing your heart out. Even if you can't sing, that's no excuse. Humans weren't meant to swim, but you don't see that many people giving it up do you?

For all it's worth, humans were meant to sing more than they were meant to swim.

There's just something freeing about KTV. It doesn't matter if you can't hit those high notes or whether or not your pitch is spot on.

What matters is at the end of the song, you know that you've put your heart into it. The lyrics and melody is the mirror to your emotions.

What matters is that you've sung your heart, soul and guts out. That after each and every song you complete, you gain that bit more of life experience - understanding the lyrics to the song, understanding why you're singing that particular song, understanding what events brought you to the microphone in the first place and owning your emotions.

Abstract shit I know, but I trust those that sings K will agree with what I've said.

Drive

Sorry to disappoint a few friends, but I'm not going to talk about learning to drive. I still feel that driving isn't the best way to get around Singapore.

It's the other drive I'm talking about. The drive to strive.

I've been a lazy ass all my life. Especially in school. I couldn't be bothered about grades. I relied on my superior common sense (many people disagree with this I'm sure) to pass my exams.

But things changed though. The change came in the form of two persons that I've had the pleasure to meet. Super Zai Project Leader Chelsea and Highly Unethical Genius Waikit please take a bow.

Never have I met anyone with as much drive as them. So driven are they that they've been able to influence and change the way I think and to review my work ethics.

I found myself doing that bit more for my projects this semester, not settling for the satisficing options like I used to.

This semester was by far the most grueling one I've had. Staying in school till 4am, finding myself in Shanghai for a competition, doing actual filming for projects and endless days of project meetings.

I hope I maintain this drive.

Letting go

One of my biggest downfall in life is the inability to let go. I hold on to grudges and prejudice with a vice-like grip.

I take an obscenely long amount of time to let go of the feelings I have for the girls that I have liked/loved.

It's a big character flaw. I know. But here's my own self-serving justification - I care.

Even after the fallouts that I've had with these people, I can't let go because I still care. Sometimes I wonder is it because it's due to possessive jealousy or the pride that's hindering the process of moving on and letting go.

I find myself worrying for them. Maybe I should learn to stop. I've been trying to learn for the past 5 years though. It's harder than getting a degree. Haha.

Dating

It's coming to almost a year since the break up. I've not gone out on a date with a girl I liked for the same amount of time too.

A few days back while on my way to work, it struck me that soon I will have to find a life partner (or at least the people around me will tell me to find one).

Seeing how I've been unsuccessful at dating. It scares me a little.

Then again, the want to be wanted by someone isn't as strong as it used to be when I first entered JC.

Maybe it's the drive to strive kicking in, but I don't seem to get distracted by wanting to get a girl as much now.

In all honesty, I really want to concentrate on school, make my mark in this world and land a job that has me giggling at my pay cheque.

Friends

I just want to say that if you've bothered to reach this portion of the post, you're probably a good friend of mine (or maybe I'm just a damn engaging writer).

I am really lucky to have met all the people whom I consider my real friends. You guys have been there for me whenever I needed people to pick up my sorry and inept ass.

I'm also sorry if I didn't make more of an effort. I promise I'll try harder.

I've always wondered how do some people make friends so easily. They have this ability to make you feel like you're their best friend in the whole world, just like everyone else.

I could never bring myself to do that.

My distaste for shallow acquaintance making will really hinder me in life. I am just unable to bring myself to make more Hi-Bye friends. It's truly a displeasure to have to say "Hi" to someone you really have no interest in getting to know, but you have to anyways because that's the law of the jungle.

Wish I could see past all that soon and start being the sociable person I've come to envy and loathe.

Conclusion

All right mates, I applaud you for reaching here. You shall now be burdened with the fact that I'll come and whine to you about how shitty my life is having read this post. HAHAHAHA YOU LOSE.

Social retards ought to be culled.

2008-04-22T02:20:00.000+08:00

People who walk slowly around campus really deserve to be bludgeoned in the back of their heads with my kinky Toshiba laptop bag.

Why is my bag kinky? That's because the laptop bag in question happens to contain a IBM laptop(a fucking useless one at that). Kinky no? Kinda like this trannie. The exterior totally fools you with what's within. Giggles.

But seriously, what's the deal with people walking so fucking slow? I'd understand if they're retarded or disabled or both. But why are perfectly functioning NUS students incapable of walking a little bit faster in between lessons in the overcrowded walkways?

What's worse is a whole group of them. The idea of walking behind their friends is too painful to bear that they have to walk in a bloody phalanx that blocks all traffic behind them.

It's like they're thinking "Oh God please don't make me walk behind my friends in this short commute to my next lecture! Please no, I will lose all respect if I fall back like the little weakling that I am. I lose at life if I don't walk side by side with my friends."

It gets worse when these retards reach flights of stairs. You'd be treated to a nice 15 seconds viewing of nothing but ass. It didn't help that the ass in question that triggered this blog posting was man ass. He wore jeans 10 sizes too small and his butt curve was pretty darn well accentuated. You could see how round his butt cheeks were and where the bottom of his butt cheeks converged at the asshole.

I'm not sure but do they do butt implants now? People like him should be rounded up by the police and stoned to death.

Moving on, due to the well planned transport system in Singapore, the MRT is always crowded because Singaporeans just LOVE to take the trains. But honestly, fuck those people who block my way out of the MRT by standing at the entrance. YOU'RE NEVER GONNA GET SEATS ON THE MRT ANYWAYS. THE GOVERNMENT WON'T HAVE AN EFFICIENT MRT SYSTEM ANY TIME THIS CENTURY.

But what really irked me was this particular retard on this particular day in this particular carriage that was not particularly crowded. It was in fact, pretty empty.
Let's call this person the retard-who-probably-wasn't-carried-as-a-baby-and-hence-craved-human-contact. What the hell let's just call him sick shit sam.

You see sick shit sam or S3 decided to stand next to me. We both held on to the same pole. I was innocently listening to my ipod (learning lyrics for my next kickass KTV session) and I didn't really bother about him when he got on.

I don't know why but I think he wanted to get me to do some kinky weird shit MRT pole dance with him. There was a SEA of free space in front of him but he chose to stand literally 10cm in front of me with his butt facing my crotch.

At this point I was already leaning backwards thinking what the hell is wrong S3. When the train jerked as it turned, S3's ass would come dangerously close to my powerful and highly desirable crotch. Thank god for my lightning reflexes which allowed me to evade his probing ass.

I refused to move away because I believe it is my right as a Singaporean and as a human to fucking stand where I want on public transportation without having to be harrassed by people like S3.

But what could I do? I couldn't tap him on the shoulder and ask him to move away right? He has his human rights to stand where he wanted. Albeit he tried to exploit that right. Fucking hentai douchebag.

And also can you imagine how would I sound like if I asked him to move away? "Excuse me sir, you are violating my personal space with your bum. Can you fuck off? Thanks." That wouldn't work right?

By this point he was standing too close for comfort. The next bump threatened to rob my crotch of its innocence. The back of his head was also precariously ready to say hello to my nose.

Therefore, being the genius that I am, I thought of the best non-verbal way to ask him to fuck off. Hell, I didn't even have to risk touching him.

Cleverly, I breathed out REALLY hard through my nose. I really hoped a piece of booger hit him but alas my pristinely clean nostril only managed a blast of hot air (with a lil bit of moisture) unto S3's head.

He proceeded to move two steps forward without looking at me (must be feeling guilty that pervert) and that concluded my little MRT victory over social retard S3. I rock.

Sleepless in Shanghai

2008-03-31T22:31:00.000+08:00

This is going to be a very boring blog-about-my-life blog post. But read on if you're interested =)

I would have never imagined my third visit to Shanghai come so soon and in such an unexpected fashion.

Two Tuesdays (18/03/08) ago I was going about my daily routine of not caring about the people around me in NUS when I got a call from Gary.

As you can see I didn't put a kickass adjective for Gary. This is because he's just an acquaintance that I will soon meet in the days to come following his call.

"Hi, you've made it through the finals for Bizbuzz. Can you fly up to Shanghai for the final presentation this Sunday?"

2 things came to mind.

1. Fuck yeah! Finals of a case competition!

2. Fuck no! Have to source for tickets within 2 days?!

Well to cut the long story short, I managed to find tickets for my team mates - highly unethical genius Waikit and future of green technology Haiping.

We hauled our asses off of Singapore on an SQ flight on a less-than-normal Friday (21/03/08) morning. It had been more than 6 years since I've been on an SIA flight. Either my standards of women have exponentially increased or SIA girls look more like SIA aunties.

Shanghai's a great place. I love how I'm totally comfortable there. I can't say the same for my teammates though. One's from Hwa Chong JC, the other came from Chung Cheng High. But why the fuck are they so crippled in Mandarin is beyond me.

Being in my very first case competition sure brought along a load of fresh experiences. It was intriguing to see how my team mates' minds worked. Quite a different take at academic analysis. I guess people from different faculties think really differently.

I learnt a lot from them about presentation skills and analytical thinking. I would say going on this short trip with them was more fulfilling than taking NM3204 - E-shit-learning.

On to the case competition finals. I was jittery to say the least. First time in a business suit and presenting in front of a crowd of people that I was not familiar with. Didn't help that some people in the audience were people I wasn't exactly expecting to see.

But thanks to my teammates, I survived. It's a surreal feeling when you're up in front of so many people. The lines you practiced the night before rolls out of your tongue with ease. Yet you can't be too sure what exactly you're saying at that moment. The feeling is something similar to recalling a dream you have had the night before.

We were pumped up and very confident of what we had to offer the judges. But as you have it, when your expectations are high, you fall just that bit harder.

I would say 3rd place wasn't too bad for my first try. But I could've just done better. Next time guys, when there's a chance, we'll aim beyond first =p

Team LCL - ass kickers.

I will always remember this trip. The meaningful and downright bo liao intellectual debates we had at 2a.m sipping flower tea at 新天地 in our stinky suits rocked.

Amour

2008-03-06T12:09:00.000+08:00

It scares me to know how some people can just say they love someone but when the shit hits the ceiling fan, that love they were talking about takes cover in a room elsewhere.

Someone once told me that when the feeling has faded, there's nothing to do but to move on. True, but the only problem I see in that statement was that the person mistook the rush of being in love for real love.

Love to me is more than just that feeling. It comes with commitment, conviction and responsibility. Love is seeing your responsibilities in others' needs.

Needless to say, it's pretty disappointing to know that many people still practice their own selfish brand of love.

Are people really so jaded with love that all they do is to guard their heart and hope against hope that their partners would give their all so they can finally open themselves up to love?

Ok this is going to sound cryptic and confusing, but it sounds like Game Theory doesn't it? A single round game. Where both sides rather short change each other than to take the risk of really loving wholeheartedly. That's game theory for you. Arriving at the best possible outcome without risking being hurt, thus people end up being selfish on both sides. As illustrated below:

The best outcome is of course fairy tale. After getting hurt once, will they play more iterations of the same game and end up colluding, giving each other the best possible outcome?

Here's where game theory fails no? No one's willing to get hurt.

Futility

2008-02-11T22:15:00.000+08:00

Humans are a bored lot. So bored in fact, we think of the lamest things to do to keep us occupied till we are finally ready to die.

Here's a list of the things that accomplish very soundly the task of time wasting:

1. Blogging (Duh)
2. Extreme ironing
3. Listening to Britney Spears
4. Post a video on Youtube defending Britney
5. Politics

However, there's one activity in which we all partake in that tops the cake of time wasting. We humans, for the better part of our lives, try hard at acquiring little pieces of paper.

The paper alone means nothing. But humans, bored as we are, gave special meaning to the paper. We made the paper valuable and collectible to ensure we never run out of things to do in search for more of such paper.

These special pieces of paper allow us to exchange them for other worldly possessions, like food or clothing. Many people believe that the more paper you collect the happier you become, something like Pokemon. Of course, those without huge stacks of paper coined the phrase that had something to do with happiness and paper.

But soon people got bored of just acquiring this paper. A few of them noticed that the paper flow behaved in a certain pattern and cycle. Like how some country's paper seemed to be more popular than another's. Soon a few bored individuals decided that by observing and studying the flow of paper, they might be able to acquire more paper.

Thus Economics was born.

At this point of time, you must be wondering, why is the title of this post futility?
Because after a certain amount of time, you realise that many human created activities are just a plain waste of time. They are useful only because humans convince themselves that it is useful.

Economics, advertising, public relations, finance and marketing etc etc. What use are they? Besides justifying our unnaturally prolonged lifespan. These activities are used to keep our bored minds in check.

That's the futility of many of our lives. Doing things because there's nothing else better to do to pass time.

Losing sight.

2008-01-13T22:49:00.000+08:00

I know many people claim to know which laksa's the real one and which one's the more original one. Amidst all the newspaper clippings, certifications, arguments, debating and celebrity endorsements, it seems that everyone forgot the most fundamental thing. Laksa - it should taste fucking good.

And it sure ain't the damn 328 laksa. Yes the one with the red hair aunty.

I really am intrigued by this phenomenon. All the stalls fighting with each other over the title of "Original Katong Laksa." Idiots really. Nobody ever thought that TASTING GREAT would be a selling point.

But as you would have it, after eating laksa there since 15, I'm pretty confident the Marine Parade laksa (the one that uses the coconut husk as a ladle) tastes the best. They've relocated to Roxy Square 1.

Anyway, after my sextifying lunch I trotted down to Borders Parkway.

Although I would like to say I picked a girl up from there, regrettably, I picked up a book to read instead.

The title caught my attention, "Hypnotic Writing" it read. Sounded interesting to me so I gave it a go.

It was a book on copywriting. The author was going on and on about how he is the pioneer for hypnotic writing and that his style of writing would guarantee that whatever you write, people will read.

What a load of bull. His book held my attention for a grand total of two minutes.

But it got me thinking. Writing. How do people do it? How do the best copywriters in the world craft their words so creatively?

I started writing this blog because I wanted to practise my writing. I remember I said that I wanted to write like the way Chris Rock talks. At first I think I wrote pretty well. I was truly amused by some of my own posts.

But now, it feels like I'm just writing for the sake of posting something. I don't seem to enjoy the writing. And it shows. So it seems, just like the laksa wars, I am losing sight of why I blog.

So thanks my friends who have been reading diligently. It makes me damn happy and proud when some of you tell me that I write well and write funny. It makes my day, week and month!

But for now, I think I'll take a break. A hiatus of sorts.

Khatib

2007-12-31T15:40:00.000+08:00

The pungent smell of mud whirls in my nose. The afternoon sun licking my scorched back. People yelling all around me, my breathing's paced and heart's thundering.

These sensations are all but dampened by the sick thuds of the shots peppering the barricade I'm leaning against.

I'm pinned from the left, I take a quick peek out from the hole in the barricade. I'm marked down pretty hard. Just a split second after I ducked, the spot where I stole a peek from welcomed a fresh barrage of fire.

Damn. What should I do?

Shit. Adrenaline's kneejerk reaction to rush out and return fire is pretty enticing. But who the hell likes being hit?

Lucky break! It seems that the guy pinning me down has lost interest in me. I take a look out from my right. It seems they have all shifted their focus on someone else. Great, one of 'em did not know he was wide open for me to shoot.

I compose myself. Taking aim I squeeze the trigger with the care of handling a baby. Crap, the shot whizzed past his head. But he seems too preoccupied.

Another shot. This time it hit the barricade. He must've realised that he's being shot at. He sticks behind his cover.

But my quarry's not going to get away that easy. I've got his angle marked. After 5 or 10 seconds, he was lulled into a false sense of security thinking I must have switched my attention.

He tilts his head out for a quick glance. I squeezed my trigger.

Tango down.

Back to the fucker pinning me down from the left. It would seem he has disappeared while I was busying myself.

This time the adrenaline surge from downing an opponent took over. I leapt out from cover trying to advance forward.

Mistake.

First it was my left hand that felt the sting. Then my chest. It took me a second or two to realise I'm hit. Stupid. Very stupid.

Well in war, I would've been pretty dead.

But this is PAINTBALL!

At first I was pretty nervous about the game. Hearing how much it hurt being hit by a paintball. Then again, I think I handle pain pretty well. So I decided, what the heck? Worth the try, no?

Seriously my friends, if you've got a big group of people looking for some healthy fun and loads of taunting, paintball's the game for you. Nothing's more satisfying than seeing your paintball smear someone's body or protective mask.

Thanks to the Brotherhood of the Dudes, I experienced one of the most fun, adrenaline packed and engaging sports encounter. Ever.

It would not have been as fun if not for Bullet-blocking Bicep Seb providing cover from the rear, "Are you feeling lucky punk?" Wei Keen giving very sound commands around the field and Paintball Rambo Dewei for being garang like fuck (he leopard crawls and prones a lot).

Dudes please make this a monthly activity. Thanks.

Merry Christmas one and all!

2007-12-25T22:17:00.000+08:00

I began the month of December by letting many of my friends (like Dean's lister Vincent and Super Zai project leader Chelsea) know that I hate December.

I hate the month because I've always been a bitter and cynical person. I can't stand it when people are making merry and in the process making others feel warm and fuzzy inside (warm and fuzzy like the shit in 2girls1cup). I hate going to Robinson's because they play Christmas songs damn early, like in mid-November - sick bastards.

Most of all I hate being so alone. I know I'm asking for too much. I've got my family and many many great rockin' friends. But you know what they say about humans. Insatiable.

Maybe I should learn to be content and be happy with what I have. That's so cliche. It's hard like fuck to do. If I were content, I'd be a monk now.

Art really imitates life. And now I find myself caught up in something worthy of a K-drama tearjerker. This Christmas takes the cake. It's the mother of all let downs I've experienced in my 23 Christmases.

Like I've said, you have to give me some time to be a good friend. Please allow me this rant.

Merry Christmas my friends :)

Snack attack

2007-11-29T23:45:00.000+08:00

No, contrary to the title of the post, snacks did not in fact attack me. Hunger did.

Here at NUS when you're hungry, but not hungry enough for a full-blown meal, you snack. Actually, it's pretty much applies anywhere else, so I have no idea why I wrote that sentence.

Well moving on. The other day I was hungry (but not hungry enough for a full-blown meal) and was in a hurry to get the fuck out of school. Seeing how the queue for waffles at the snack store was once again inhumanly long, I decided to give their Paus a shot(they have a separate queue for their waffles because their waffle machines are too damn inefficient and clogs up their queue for other stuff. And that store is actually called "Shit that nobody eats & and overrated waffles").

They offer a variety of Paus there but I'm a simple man with simple needs. So I ordered two Tau Sa Paus, which henceforth shall be called the Snack of Kings or SoK.

Why did I bestow such a royal name for such simple peasant fare? Well because they are that fucking good. Not to mention the fact that they're 35 cents a pop!

You have no idea how rockin' awesome SoKs are. Steamed to perfection at some factory in Jurong, they are kept in this steamer thingiemajig at the snack store so it stays warm and moist when you buy it. Doesn't that totally turn you on?!

The red bean paste within the SoKs are just of the right amount and consistency. It ain't too sticky that it gets stuck to your teeth and it's not too sweet so you don't get hyperactive after 1 or 2.

The bun itself is extremely fluffy. Fluffier than clouds in fact. The only thing fluffier than SoKs are probably the essays I write for my modules.

Not to mention, if you know what the Fibonacci numbers are and the rule of thirds, you'll be glad to know that the ratio of bun to tau sa is exactly 2:1. One third, the divine number, the golden mean, the jackpot, the Toto first prize. It ensures that in every bite you take, there's just the right amount of flour and red bean paste. Perfection.

And it ain't all about the taste. It's the looks too. The cute little SoKs are nice and white, so you can easily spot any dirt or spit that may be maliciously placed upon it. Must have taken a genius to come up with such an anti-fucked up waiter behaviour mechanism for the SoKs.

And finally, when you're a student at NUS, you're supposed to look either very slack like you don't care or extremely busy and studious. The SoKs help you get both looks down pat.

Picture this, while the hoards of mindless muggers bury their heads in their books in the library's 6th floor, you are standing outside with your SoK in hand. Chewing slowly, deliberately and with much fervor, you give a half-smirk at those losers who have no life, and obviously no SoKs to fill their stomachs.

On the other hand, you can achieve the "I'm so damn busy" look just by taking larger bites from the SoK. That way, your mouth looks bloated while you hurry down the corridor. It shows that you have no time for a proper meal and thus you're shoving down a bun on your way to class to show your academic resolve. Street cred I tell you.

Actually, the point of this post is that from today onwards, I'm gonna eat SoKs exclusively for snack time at school. I want to start a culture of bun eating in NUS. No more fucked up waffles for me or anyone who knows how to enjoy food. Join me in my quest and soogether we canz conquerz the world!

Please try not to go to dubious sounding websites that I recommend.

2007-11-25T19:46:00.000+08:00

Here's a lovely conversation I had with Funny Hair Scott.

Scott says:
yoz

Scott says:
whats 2girls1cup?

Scott says:
a movie?

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
www.2girls1cup.com

Scott says:
OOOOHHHH FFFFUCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKK

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
*giggles*

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
did you like it?

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
have you had dinner?

Scott says:
AAAAWWWWWW FFFFFFUUUUUUCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
would you like some mocha frappucino or chocolate ice cream now?

Scott says:
FUCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKK SIIICKKKKKK

Scott says:
Damn for a moment i thought u were a good pal and sharing something good

Scott says:
then suddenly they the 'shit' started to happen! FUCKKKK

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
ok la sorry

Scott says:
literally shit

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
the really good one is www.2girls1finger.com

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
the 2girls1cup is a spoof

Scott says:
fuck u

Scott says:
haha

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
no no i'm serious

Scott says:
im not gonna click on that

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
nooooo

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
wtf you asked me what 2girl1cup is man

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
so i show you

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
now i'm telling you 2girls1finger is the correct one

Scott says:
fuck u

Scott says:
doesnt sound right

Scott says:
2girl1anything must be bad

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
www.meatspin.com

Scott says:
nono thanks

Scott says:
ill stick to my youporn.com

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
no this one is my module project website

Scott says:
see at least im sharing something real

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
we did it for communications advertising

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
you see if it's good not

Scott says:
i swear u better not be cocking

Scott says:
ok wait

Scott says:
WWWWTTTTTTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFf

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
round round baby right round

Scott says:
FFFFUUUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKk

Scott says:
Im gonna kill u bastard

Scott says:
haha WTF MAN

anusundergrad.blogspot.com says:
LOL i'm so gonna blog this conversation

Scott says:
FUCKKING ASS

Just when you thought it would be a bad idea for non-Blacks to rap..

2007-11-23T21:35:00.000+08:00

If you sat through that entire video without cringing or flinching, I'll award you my Medal of Nerves of Steel. Congratulations, you are probably one of those rare talents that can sit through a heart bypass surgery while eating nachos and salsa.

If you can actually memorise the lyrics and rap along, STAY AWAY FROM ME YOU FUCKING SICKO.

Singapore to build teleport-transportation system

2007-11-02T18:09:00.000+08:00

Taken from here

MUMBAI: Singapore’s former prime minister Lee Kuan Yew was surprised to know that nearly 300 new families come to the city daily only to find accommodation in slums. Yew shared his thoughts with finance minister of state and guardian minister of the city Jayant Patil, the latter, however, was convinced that Singapore model is not suitable for Mumbai.

Mayor of Mumbai Shubha Raul’s suggestion of imposing licence system for the entry into the city was turned down by Patil as the constitution does not allow such imposition.

Yew led a delegation of the key officials from Singapore that met Patil and others in Mantralaya on Tuesday. “Population of Singapore is 26 lakh and we impose taxes on the citizens whenever development work is undertaken in the city,” he said during the discussion.

Yew told the minister that the land acquisition procedure for any developmental project is completed within two months and claims are taken in subsequent phases. “Congestion taxes on vehicles plying on busy roads are a routine course of action in Singapore. The maximum time to reach any corner of Singapore is 20 minutes as traffic is not allowed to flood the roads,” he added.

MM Lee has come up with a brilliant plan to counter the problem of congestions on the road and that packed MRT problem. No, it's not the disgusting ERP hike. It's a revolutionary world-class transport system that's only possible in Singapore.

Given that Singapore is around 42km wide from East to West, you would need to travel at 126km/h in a straight line to make it in 20 minutes.

So by my powers of investigative inference, I'm pretty sure the new transport system would involve teleportation! We have to rule out helicopters because it's too damn expensive and there aren't any landing pads on HDB roofs.

But aren't teleports instantaneous? Yes you are correct my lovely well-informed readers, but you must factor in the time needed to queue up for the teleporters, sign neccessary travel documents (in case you port to some other undesirable destinations) and to wait for government approval for your teleportation. Since the above 3 activities are already national past-times, there shouldn't be any hindrance to the smooth-sailing operation of our new spanking transportation system.

So that's why they're getting paid so much...

2007-10-31T22:14:00.000+08:00

Taken from www.938live.sg

Government's convinced it can provide good housing for S'poreans

The government is "convinced" it can provide good housing for Singaporeans in the medium to long term.

Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong gave this assurance to over 1,000 delegates at the NTUC National Delegates' Conference.

He said he is confident supply will meet demand in spite of an overheating property market prompting the withdrawal of the Deferred Payment Scheme over the weekend.

"I think this step will help to dampen excessive speculation and help to inejct some reality into the market but more fundamentally than the ups and downs of the property cycle, the government is committed to keeping housing affordable for all Singaporeans. There's enough land in Singapore there's no need for anyone to get alarmed that this is the last chance and if you don't get on you'll miss the boat".

Dropping further hints on major policy changes, PM Lee said details of schemes to keep Singapore roads free flowing could be out as early as next year as part of the comprehensive Land Transport Review.

"This morning driving out of town I was watching the trains going down into town, along the CTE, every carriage was packed and I think we need to improve the public transport system and we have some ideas what can be done. But at the same time we need to keep the roads free flowing. And there're no easy ways to improve the road traffic it means painful measures like the ERP and COE and we've to do more with them. We're working out schemes and I think they'll be ready to be worked out and start to be implemented early next year in January".

Woah, they're getting millions in dollars a year to make sure no shit happens in this country and all they can say is that they're "convinced" that they can provide "good" housing.

I am also damn convinced that the sun rises from the east tomorrow morning man, can I please get my salary now thanks.

It also takes a pay increment of 60% for them to realise that the people they are supposed to be working for is packed like sardines in the MRT.

But I guess they're doing the best they can do. Being ministers who have to be very responsible for their decisions, they cannot any how make policy changes one. Even when Kopitiam Ah Pek or salaryman Ah Soon have been complaining that the MRT is too damn overcrowded, the ministers cannot any how tell the LTA or SMRT to make improvements one. They must do proper research first, present their findings then propose a solution.

That's what PM Lee did. He drove his car to look at MRTs go into a tunnel. And from his findings, *gasps* he finds out that indeed the prophetic Kopitiam Ah Pek was right all along! Indeed the MRTs are packed.

So with proper observational research, we can now sleep well knowing for a fact that our ministers "think we need to improve the public transport system." Yippee!

A prelude of the things to come?

2007-10-28T23:45:00.000+08:00

This video pretty much sums up what's it like to be a Singaporean.

3 Caucasians riding on the trishaw laughing at the uncle for cycling "two miles an hour."

To top it all off, they had to haggle the fare. World class showing of talent in Singapore.
Our ministers would be so proud.

In principle, perhaps the uncle bit off more than he can chew by taking 3 passengers. On that point alone and being unable to complete the journey efficiently it might be fair to say that he shouldn't be asking for a $10 fare.

On the flip side, if the guys were serious about getting somewhere quick, they could've taken a cab. Why didn't they? It's common knowledge that the trishaws are gimmicks and a tourist attraction. They should pay for the experience of the ride and not the utility of getting from point A to B.

Moreover, where's the humanity in all of their actions? Couldn't they see how hard it was for the uncle? Even if it might've been the case where it was the uncle that asked to ferry them, they could at least emphatize. He's old and just trying to earn a living. Saying that they got robbed and unable to pay $10 just shows what class they've got.

Posting the video on youtube? Tasteless.

Scale of Scary Shit

2007-10-27T14:27:00.000+08:00

Seems like it's addictive to do scales and charts so I shall share
the Scale of Scary Shit (SSS, which goes perfectly well in scary situations where you go SSShit!)

Basically the SSS is used to measure the things which I feel are scary. Pretty straight forward stuff, no? It ranges from 1-10, 1 being a little scary and 10... well you get the idea.

Without further ado, presenting the SSS!

1 - Going for 100 rounds of meatspin. Pretty mild stuff but look at it long enough and it just proofs that you're sick in the head.

2 - Watching an autopsy of a dog. It was a pretty sudden thing when I witnessed the autopsy, the vet just announced to his nurses "ok now let's look at the stomach contents" and proceeded to slice the dog up, while I was standing behind waiting for the autopsy report. The blood was not that disgusting, it was the smell. Really similar to Tur Kwa.

3 - Swimming in the dark. I just have this irrational fear that sharks will materialize in the pool if there's no sunlight. Everyone's entitled to their weird quirks, so quit laughing!

4 - Dog baiting.For two years in the army, it was just me, in my army uniform and a fibreglass casing on my right arm vs. 40 kilograms of German Shepherd teeth.
Every time I ran towards the dog like the mad man I'm supposed to be,
I prayed hard that the dog will bite the casing and not the family jewels.

5 - Giving a presentation in class. Although I've been doing it quite often now, it still makes me nervous like hell to stand in front of a group of people and start talking. The mind races and your mouth attempts to catch up with it. You end up doing what people call "blabbering."

6 - Giving a presentation in the real working world. Presenting to the CEO and directors can be such a harrowing experience. Their eyes and ears are razor sharp. It didn't help that we didn't practise at all going in. We just winged it. Lucky they liked my kickass ppt slide style. Foo~

7 - Riding in I-drive-like-Schumi Pete's car. What can I say, he does right-angle turns at 80km complete with the tire screeching. I never fail to cry for mommy when I'm in his car.

8 - Going for the operation. For more info, please click here.

9 - Riding the reverse bungee at Clarke Quay. Being shot up, you can't scream, you can't breathe. Coming down, you can't think and you start giggling like a idiot.

and finally, the scariest thing that I ever did... and the thing that inspired this post.

10 - Approaching a girl. I know you're thinking "What..... that's crap," but I assure you, it's always an experience
mixed with many complex emotions.
First there's the fear, the fear of being rejected, the fear of looking like a complete bungling doofus.
Then comes the myriad of scenarios in which you play in your head,
all the possible situations and lines you can think of to approach her.
Most people have the foolhardy fantasy that they'll approach the girl in the smoothest of ways, deliver what they have to say in the smarmiest manner and charm the socks off the girl.
But let me tell you one thing ladies and gentle, 叔叔有练过. And it doesn't turn out anyway you think it would. Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong and will kick you in the balls and stun you.

Here's my own experience.

Me: *approaches girl in class, heart racing either from the caffeine or most likely nervousness* Err hi, my name's so and so, I would like to get to know you.

Girl: Huh? *wide eyed most probably thinking "what the hell is he talking about and what does he want?!"*

Me: Errr I'd like to get to know you, is it possible to get your msn?

Girl: *still looking shocked and probably thinking "OMG DIE"* Oh, this is kinda sudden and I'm in the middle of something. I don't think so..

Me: *My mind went blank and I've lost this part of my memory*

After the whole experience, I was so taken aback at how I froze and my inability to deal with such situations. My mind literally went completely white except for the word "DAMN" being displayed in bold, black capitalized Times New Roman.

The end of the story is that no, I didn't get to know her. But I would like to save some of my pride and ego by saying that at least I TRIED.
The motto of the United Kingdom Special Air Service is - Who dares wins.

I dared, but shit never win. Teehee.

Managing the Desirability Dampening Quotient

2007-10-24T17:36:00.000+08:00

What the hell is the Desirability Dampening Quotient (DDQ) you might ask? Well put simply, DDQ just means how undesirable somebody can get.

Recently I've had an internal struggle which most men will eventually face. The age old question older than that damn "chicken vs. egg" question, that is - Should I go for looks or character? Of course some men are just rich and go for looks without ever thinking about this question.

But since a person can have a multitude of characteristic traits, for example Girl A could be sweet, friendy, demure and a psychotic possessive sociopath, I've decided measuring someone by character alone does not suffice.

Alas! The birth of the DDQ. How desirable/undesirable can someone get before you decide you want to be with that person.

Desirability includes - nice character traits, monetary stability, willingness to fulfill partner's sexual fantasies etc etc.

Undesirability includes - all the nasties you can think off, being unreasonable, self-centred, irritating, unwilling to carry out partner's sexual fantasies etc etc.

So if you plot a graph using the DDQ against attractiveness, you get a function of tradeoffs a person is willing to accept from their prospective girl/boy/spouse/sex buddy.

So from the graph, the more undesirable a person is, the further they will fall on the right and the more attractive he/she is the higher on the graph they'll be. The line represents someone's DDQ acceptance with respects to looks.

So a desperate man's DDQ acceptance will look something like this...

He's willing to accept an unattractive woman with a lot of shit. Ergo, he's desperate.

Conversely we have....

This means someone expects the person to be damn attractive with little drawbacks, quite similar to what women want.

And finally I have plotted out regions for you to access your own situation.

This graph is to help you see if the girl/guy you are chasing or already with is worth your time and effort.

Y.C. - Your call. It's really up to you to stay with this person if you're someone who doesn't ask for much, you shouldn't be wondering if the grass is greener somewhere else.

L.B. - Lucky Bastard. Here's the creme de la creme. You've landed yourself a hot babe that's willing to bend over to meet your every needs and doesn't complain about your bulging belly or deadend job. Finding a girl in the L.B. region is extremely rare, because most of the time potential
L.Bs turn out to have some catch (like STDs). So if you do find one, then you're one lucky bastard.

J.P. - Jackpot. This is where most men should aim to be. Though not as good as the L.B. region, it's still worth it. Just like playing the jackpot, you sink in so many coins but when you hit it, it feels oh-so-good. Most men will tend to want to marry a girl that's in the J.P. region.

M.B. - Maybe Baby. Should you stay and pray the person's character improves (quite unlikely) or should you just high tail it and make a quick getaway? But the difference between the M.B. and Y.C. region is that in the M.B. region, the girl/guy is so damn hot! Will you be able to land something as fine as this? Do you think with your head, heart or dickhead? Decisions decisions decisions.

N.W.I - NOT WORTH IT! This is where, MOST people are. Because in their heads, they adhere to the DDQ acceptance curve, meaning they feel that they are desirable to a certain level because they are attractive to a certain level. Well because of their delusions, they feel that they are entitled to give people shit. So sad but true. Most N.W.I people tend to think that they are in the J.P. region.

So to the men, they've got to stop thinking that they are god's gift to women. And to the women, most of you aren't worth it.

Worhorhorhorhorhol.

The night of nights

2007-10-07T23:41:00.000+08:00

People who have read my post on the Anatomy of a perfect shit must be wondering, "How does he do it? How did he manage to exhibit such calmness and cool wit under such gruelling conditions?"

Well my lovely readers, this story is about an unforgettable experience involving Labrador park. An experience that would be forever etched into the far recesses of its participants' memories.

It was the night of nights in the year 2005. A night where the gathering was fun, company was good and supper was oily. We were 4 young hot blooded males in a Hyundai Tuscon, life, possibilities, excitement were all ingredients brewing in the vehicle.

Hmmm? Labrador Park? 4 guys? Oil? No please, I'm not that sick.

Calm under the gun Johann is the owner of the Tuscon and he was driving it that night. I was sitting next to him while kickass hyena sounding Ben (you'll know why hyena sounding later) and I-drive-like-Schumi Pete were in the rear.

Ok back to the oil. What's so interesting about oil? It certainly is vital in making fried chicken and prata without oil is just solidified flour. Oil is also a great lubricant. So great in fact, it makes your intestines go into overdrive.

And yes you guessed it, while in the car, at 1 a.m. in the morning, without any petrol station in sight, I needed to shit. Bad.

The conversation went something like this:

Me: Wah fuck I really need to shit, where is the nearest petrol station
Calm under the gun Johann: Wah we just passed one just now want me to turn back?
Me: Ah nvm just drive on maybe there's another one further down

5 minutes later....

Me: Eh how come no petrol station one?!
Calm under the gun Johann: Eh jonnie you ok not?
Kickass hyena sounding Ben: *laughing like a hyena*
I drive like Schumi Pete: *giggling with Ben*

2 minutes later...
Me: Eh Johann, I'm serious I need to go like NOW!
Calm under the gun Johann: Ok tahan a bit
Me: Turn there! Some dark spot can already I cannot take it! I'm serious I don't go now it will be in your car liao.
Kickass hyena sounding Ben: *laughing like a hyena*
I drive like Schumi Pete: *giggling with Ben*

So we're at some dark area at Labrador Park, I see a power box under a tree that's away from the street lamp. I told Johann to stop and made a dash for the spot behind the power box.

Off came my pants and according to the guys in the car, my ass needs a sun tan. They drove away while I did my deed. Somehow I wasn't too worried they would abandon me. I was just too occupied with the crap.

Last week, Ben asked me if the thought of not having toilet paper ever crossed my mind when I made the dash for the power box. I told him no, I was a man with a plan. Tree leaves. Though smooth and without traction, they made good natural ass cleaning tools. A little itchy afterwards though.

So after I took my dump and selected the cleanest looking leaves from the tree above me, I proceeded to clean up and wear back my pants.

Surprisingly, Ben emerged with a pile of toilet paper in his hand. It would seem that had I waited another 10 seconds in the car, I would've discovered the public toilet 50 meters away from me. Such is life.

Brotherhood of the Dudes

2007-10-07T22:54:00.000+08:00

Friday night was an excellent night for a dinner with the Brotherhood of the Dudes from Temasek. After the hellish week of rushed deadlines and slipshoddy work, it was a very welcomed respite.

There was sexy lasik-ed Seb, new urban male Keen and 2 jugs Carlsberg not enough Dewei. Dinner was a very satisfying meal at Waraku at Central. If you lovely readers are avid Japanese foodies and tired of the crapshit Japanese pretenders out there, then Waraku is the place for you. Plus, it is very wallet-friendly!

Let me first start by saying how good their Sashimi is. Well it rocks my socks. Not the cold rubber you get at places like Genki or Sakae Sushi. These pieces of divine meat are bursting with the robust oils and fats only plastic surgeons can get from liposuction. The wasabi unfortunately, was quite weak.

But Sashimi ladies and gentlemen, is meant to be eaten without condiments, so please don't dab too much soya sauce because that really defeats the purpose of eating anything raw. If you don't believe me, just go dab a nonya kueh lapis in soya sauce and wasabi, the texture and taste comes up about the same.

And the ramen... good golly. Even though they don't specialise in ramen, it fucking rocks. I'm never gonna go Ajisen ever again. My 10 dollars wasted at Ajisen can get me a bowl of owning goodness at Waraku. And it's only 9.50! The soup was delightful and smooth. The noodles were springy and chewy but not overcooked. And although it came with only 2 slices of roast pork, it was unbelievable. Just like how balls come in twos, these 2 slices of roast pork made my life as a cockster complete. They were soft, succulent, fragrant and downright delicious.

It was a damn good night with damn good food at a damn good price. We talked, well mostly they talked and I listened because the Brotherhood of the Dudes are damn funny when they down a pint or two.

I love the way these guys talk. Their lingo is just so... dude. Let me give an introduction of some of their vocab that would be the trend for the next decade to come.

Dude - Adj. Used to describe some one as the Man (see Man). Also used to describe someone who is daring, stupid, clever, popular,idiotic, well accomplished, a good drinker, just about anything under the sun. E.g. Wah eh, he damn dude leh.

Mo sin - Noun. The string, not there. String tak ada. No strings attached.

Man - Adj/noun. Used to describe someone who is very manly. E.g. Wah he killed someone before he is the man.

It is just nice to know that even though I hardly see them, there is still a bond between us. And one day, we'll be millionaires together hurhur.

Life has an appetite. Its diet is me.

2007-09-28T23:11:00.000+08:00

Disclaimer: This is an unadulterated rant/bitch post, please steer clear if you want to judge me.

I remember asking my kickass friend Ben this question - ever felt like you're on the Truman Show?

He said no and enquired why I asked and if I felt that way.

To which I replied, "Yeah, I feel that someone's fucking around with my life just for laughs."

The history of the "Truman Show question" began back in the year 2005. It was a question first posed to me by Audiogalaxy Wallace (you may now have realised I give spankin' cool adjectives to each of my friends, this of course adds flavour to my blog which already rocks more than other mediocre blogs out there, but it's just to reward you for reading on).

He asked that question while we were hanging out at the forum under the central library (at 11pm no less). At first I was pretty surprised why he asked me that. I can't recall what my exact answer was but I felt at that time, perhaps we were all little brains in test vats that were being prodded by some alien being.

That would explain all the "oh shit" situations that you find yourself in. Or even explain why the cockroach flies at you when you stare at it and think intensely "DON'T FLY TOWARDS ME BITCH". But they do anyway.

You see, the aliens just love to see how humans react in all sorts of circumstances. Not just happenstance, but real actual, fuck-me-why-does-it-only-happen-to-me kind of circumstances, horse stances or any other stances for that matter.

So yeah, I did suspect at that time that someone might be playing a divine prank on me.

Audiogalaxy Wallace would subsequently go on to tell me that not one, but TWO, girls that I was dating (non-concurrently of course) were actually attached without me knowing of course. If I knew then I'd be asking for it, no?

Perhaps you'd think it doesn't sound THAT bad. It's just two girls right? But let me ask you this - do you know of any other person that has been through what I've gone through. High chance the answer is "no." Right? You know why? Because those people who have already been through that have killed themselves. I just have nerves of cold -fucking-hard steel. That's why I'm still here ranting.

So what did I do to deserve such shit? Kickass friend Ben said I'm just very angry at this world. But mind you kickass friend Ben (who laughs while reading this blog, yay!), I wasn't negative about this shithole TILL I found out about the second girl. Before that I was an idealistic idiot.

Well actually, I'm not so negative usually, but today I found out that my ex girlfriend got into the NOC programme. Congrats to her. But damn I'm feeling extremely sore. You see, I was the one that introduced that programme to her.

Actually I was the one who wanted to join. But joining would mean I'd have to go overseas for 1 year. I was still attached to her then. Not very healthy for a relationship ya? So I passed up on that chance.

And now she's going. While I'm here with only myself to blame. Boo-fucking-hoo. Damn I'm pathetic hurhur.

She made me realise one thing from the relationship. Love yourself first before loving somebody else. Because if you don't love yourself, you're just a miserable compromising wimp.

So... here's a song that I'd like to dedicate to myself even though Ben sings it to me every time he sees me

Green Day - Nice Guys Finish Last
Nice guys finish last.
You're running out of gas.
Your sympathy will get you left behind.
Sometimes you're at your best, when you feel the worst.
Do you feel washed up, like piss going down the drain

Pressure cooker pick my brain and tell me I'm insane.
I'm so fucking happy I could cry.
Every joke can have its truth and now the joke's on you.
I never knew you were such a funny guy.

Oh nice guys finish last, when you are the outcast.
Don't pat yourself on the back you might break your spine.

Living on command.
You're shaking lots of hands.
Kissing up and bleeding all your trust, taking what you need.
Bite the hand that feeds.
You lose your memory and you got no shame.

Weird shit always happens on the bus

2007-09-24T22:22:00.000+08:00

First it was my need for an epic shit, then talkative girls and consequently it was Mr. Fucking Loudmouth. It seems that public transport is the best place to encounter really kooky things that tickle/irritate me.

Well today's post is just a short one because this fella didn't exactly irritate me, he really cracked me up and made my day.

Presenting, Gatsby-overload Man...

AAIIIEEEE CAN GIB EW GAT-SI-BEE.

Irritating bus ride

2007-09-13T15:14:00.000+08:00

What do you do when you feel tremors, possibly from an earthquake? Do you hide under a table? Beneath a door frame? Or somewhere near a food source like a fridge? The amount of academic debate on where you should hide in an event of an earthquake is aplenty.

But none of them seems to fit into the Singapore context.

You see, in Singapore when you feel tremors from an earthquake, you immediately have to log on to some internet forum and post about it - as below.

Quite amazing really, the first thought that crossed their minds isn't "shouldn't I be somewhere safer?" or "i need to contact my loved ones just in case." No, the first thing they do is get on the net and post it in some forums.

Quite amusingly, people of Singapore kick up a big fuss about such rare tremors that when their ceiling light/fan swayed, it signalled the end of the world. Never mind the poor victims of the ACTUAL earthquake. A swaying light/fan is a big deal, but of course they have to post about the tremor on some internet forum before coming to terms with the fact that doom is upon them and their swaying light/fan.

The horror.

Anyway all that's beside the point. The point of this post, as clearly stated in the title of the post, "Irritating bus ride," is in fact the irritating bus ride I had this morning on my commute to school.

I woke up this morning at 7.50a.m. to the second bout of tremors, quite a refreshing way to wake up really, it felt like a ghost hand was shaking me awake.

Ok enough about the tremors.

Back to the irritating bus ride. It's so irritating that I keep digressing.

Today's bus ride was exceptionally irritating because of one guy. Let's call him random non-descript idiot from NUS with tinted glasses.

How do I know he's from NUS? Because this specimen of an idiot is very much in love with his own voice and he made sure that half the bus knew that he loved his own voice. Half a bus, in this case of a double decker bus, would mean the whole upper deck.

So random non-descript idiot from NUS with tinted glasses, who shall henceforth be termed Fucking Loudmouth for convenience sake on the writer's and readers' part, got up onto the bus and spotted his friend. Who, by the stroke of divine bad luck, happened to sit behind me.

My hell started.

Try as I might to get through my book, which is the third kickass book from a trilogy of five, he just COULDN'T stop yapping. There's a difference between couldn't and wouldn't. I hope you get my drift. This Fucking Loudmouth seemed to lack the mental strength to stop his vocal chords from vibrating.

He talked about how he skipped tutorial yesterday because he woke up late. He felt exceptionally proud that his MC cost him $9 whereas taking a cab to school would have cost him $10. He seemed to forget the fact that we pay around $6000 a year in school fees, so skipping a lesson is actually pretty costly. But never mind that! He felt that he saved $1!

Oh did I mention that he is an Economics major? Holy efficient allocation of resources Batman!

So after that he went on and on to his female friend about how he wanted to go Japan for an exchange over the 3 month holiday and how academically smart a move that would be. Granted, it was a smart move because modules you take overseas won't have its results computed into your CAP, which means you can just slack off on an exchange. But the dumb move is, he was just 5 weeks into his Japanese level 1 course. Way to go Einstein, you planned to go to Japan for an exchange BEFORE you picked up the language.

The next thing that he said really made me want to place my head into a vice. You know those vices that we have during D&T classes? Those things that held pieces of metal together while you hacked, chipped and sawed away at? Yeah, those vices. No I didn't want my head hacked, chipped or sawed. I just wanted it crushed by the vice.

His female companion remarked "it's damn cold." To which Captain Obvious replied "Yeah, it's damn cold man, I think it's because of the bus." At that precise moment, I cringed, a guy sitting diagonally across of me sniggered and two girls in front of me turned back.

Of course it's the fucking bus that's frigging cold. What else could it be? Maybe the lack of calories to burn to make yourself feel less cold because all your energy's spent on moving your damn mouth makes you feel cold, it can't be the bus.

I'm thinking "Gee, this toilet stinks, maybe it's the tap that stinks, can't be the shit."

At this point I tried to force myself to sleep. But I can't! He's like the mosquitoes that buzz round your ear when you're trying to catch some shuteye, only this time the mosquitoes dive straight for your eardrum.

He went on to ask his female companion on advice on what he should do when the girl he likes leaves for exchange in Japan for a year.

The companion helpfully suggested that he called her more often (to which he said too expensive), email her (to which he said too much work), visit her (to which he said she needed time to settle down in Japan and visiting her in December would be too soon) and lastly she suggested he just profess his feelings to her. He obviously refuted her suggestions going by the trend of suggestion refuting. He said he didn't want to "burden" her with his admittance of feelings for her. Please Mr. Fucking Loudmouth, if I were that girl, I'd be delighted to hear your confession because that would give me a valid reason to avoid you and your fucking loudmouth.

Dammit, what a long bitchy post. It didn't help that the fucking cold bus caused my butt to cramp up and render me immobilised for a good minute.

3 statements I've grown to hate to hear

2007-09-06T19:27:00.000+08:00

I used to hate normal Singaporeans speaking in weirdass accents. Especially when they are talking to caucasians. I just don't see why should they change accents to accomodate others. Why not the other way round.

Then I concluded that they are just weak-minded fools who wanted so much affirmation from everyone else that I decided they were a waste of hateful emotion.

So anyhoo, here's presenting to you, the 3 new statements that I've come to hate to hear!

*Excited giggles*

1. "Sorry"
I've got no problem with an apology, but just like any other thing, over-usage makes the word lose its meaning. It's like some fucker walking down the street and bangs into you and murmurs "sorry" and walks away. There was no meaning to it. The cursory utterance of that word was frigging arbitrary, totally redundant and immensely useless, just like all the adjectives I used. It's like the word that ends all the conflict. You can't argue back because the other party "admits defeat" but you know it really isn't the case. Sorry here just really means "I'm sorry you're pissed but there's nothing I can do about it haha and looks like you can't do anything now either hurhur"

I hate sorrys.

2. "I don't know what to say"
This is another gem. When the inanity of "sorry" is used up. The next level of unconstructive conversational skill is "I don't know what to say." Again, you can't fault the person for saying it, they really cannot conjure up anything else to say and thus ending the argument or conversation in mid air. Leaving things hanging. Kinda like when you're peeing and a bugger at the next urinal pees so damn hard that you get splashed. Nothing you can do. C'est la vie.

3. "I'm really tired, think I'll go sleep"
Granted, this statement alone independent of any other clauses would be perfectly fine. But if statement number 3 is used in succession with statement 1 and 2, boy it feels fine and dandy dunnit?

Twice this statement has been used on me when I really needed some answers. Both times when I got hit with statement number 3, it felt like that person took a foldable stool and smacked it square into my face. Ain't pretty.

I don't know why, but it seems that I've been able to shoot questions that some people just don't know how to answer. Sometimes the answer can be a simple yes/no one but I get hit with all 3 statements I've grown to hate or hear.

Cynical post for a cynical day

2007-08-27T20:52:00.000+08:00

Today was a pretty uneventful day at good ol' NUS.

Babes are still insecure of their looks, hence the make-up and elaborate choice of clothes.

Nerds are resigned to the fact that they'd only get a babe when they stop being nerds, hence the elaborate gatsby-overload hairstyle which identifies them as nerds - catch 22.

Hall people are still annoyingly rowdy and in singlets and FBT shorts - hope they realise that LTs are actually pretty cold and armpit hair isn't something that many people come to school for.

The part of the day that brightened me up was when I decided to take the lift from the first floor to the third (yes I'm lazy that's why I write well).

I was looking at the buttons on the panel. Immediately I felt that if this lift were to be thrown into the sea and left to drift around for a century, I'd still know that it's a lift from Singapore.

Why? Apart from the fact that there are NUS posters plastered all over the interior, the button panel gave it all away.

You see, the plastic cover on the buttons is susceptible to a considerable amount of wear and tear. The more people press it, the more likely you get smudges and scratches, no? The thing that cracked me up was that, all the buttons were fine and dandy and pristine, save for one.

Which one? Make a guess.

The "door close" button. Seriously, you can just imagine every single lift user, spamming the button for their dear life. Because if you take a lift and allow people to get on after you, you lose in life. No excuse.

I repeat people, LIFT DOORS ARE NOT MEANT TO BE HELD OPEN FOR OTHER PASSENGERS.

It was super funny because there were two button panels in the lift and BOTH only had the "door close" button that were so scratched up you'd laugh.

I'm pretty sure people are sexually gratified every time they manage to hop on a lift without letting any other passenger on. I bet they'd giggle at themselves the moment the door closes and start touching their funny bits.

Fuck those people that don't thank me when I hold the lift door for them man. Especially that one fucker that didn't even nod in acknowledgement when I stuck my hands between the door to hold it open. Double fuck the bitch that was spamming the "door close" button when my hand was in between the door.

Pfft.

Moving on, while taking the bus home with my kickass friend Ben, we chanced upon two girls that were sitting behind us.

We didn't know if they were pretty, we didn't know if they were desirable. What we did know is that they talked. A lot.

It was pretty irksome because of the content of their conversation. It was nothing politically incorrect. Neither was it mundane topics like school.

Pure unadulterated, self-appraising monologue. Yes, two girls talking AT each other instead of with.

It didn't help that they were not proficient in any language they used. Their Mandarin sucked, their English grammar was abyssmal and they completely fail at Singlish. It's pretty bad when you fail at Singlish.

Anyway to get to my point, I think I'm pretty good at analyzing people. So I turned to Ben and told him that given how these two girls were reassuring themselves of their self-worth, and how they were reinforcing each other of how neccessary they are to the world, they must be pretty unattractive physically.

Ben said that I'm a cynical person and that I hate too many things in the world.

Anyway when the girls were getting off the bus, I didn't look at their faces, but Ben said "Yup, cui (in case you don't speak hokkien it meant that the girls were pretty ugly)"

Why survive on 700 when you can on 500?

2007-08-16T22:11:00.000+08:00

I love the way Lim Boon Heng said that if retirees were to draw 700 a month from CPF till 82, and then their Ordinary Account would dry it would mean they automatically die, because no money mah.

So that's why the head honchos over at the PAP feels that instead of giving $700 a month, they are going to do Singaporeans a real big favour.

They'll make it compulsory to buy an annuity.

So we will get $500 bucks a month till the day we die. Even if we live past 82! How sweet a deal is that?

It's a pretty good tactic to prolong lives of Singaporeans don't you think? They know that being Singaporean, we are a Kiasu and Kiasee bunch. We cannot lose out leh! If we live past 82 we will be getting free money! Die die must try! I mean neh neh must live to 82 to tan tio.

So it's a pretty good scheme, denying us of our rightful money (god forbid maybe CPF has not enough funds for everyone to cash out, gasp! surprise!) so that we will live longer and maybe work longer!

More good years ahead. CPF is an honest mistake.

What it means to be starstruck

2007-08-10T22:26:00.000+08:00

It was a fine day for a trek into the jungle of youthful decadence that is Plaza Singapura.

My intrepid companion, Vincent, and I were soaking in the atmosphere and reminiscing our lost youth.

Well who was I kidding, it was getting boring while we waited for our show, 881, to start. So I had a brilliant idea, we should go Times the Bookstore to waste time (omg pun intended hohoho).

I knew something was amiss the moment we stepped into the shop. There was this aura of foreboding. Something was emitting a very powerful force.

So Vince and I were checking out the latest bestsellers when from the corner of my eye, I spotted what seemed to be an extremely hot chick. The source of the awesomeness was spotted. It's like wow, she's overflowing with hot-ness that a mere glimpse of her enthralling.

Being a sharing and caring hot blooded male, I alerted Vincent. At the moment I realised who I was looking at, Vince said, "She looks like Jade Seah." Then it dawned on me, of course it had to be her! Which normal mortal would be oozing with such devastatingly good looks?

All we could see at this moment was her face, but we weren't to sure, us mortals you see aren't able to truly recognise powers beyond our mere human knowledge.

I needed more evidence to affirm our observation.

I had to see those legs of hers.

So I walked to the aisle where she was standing, and there it was, the pair of perfectly crafted legs that were hidden in a pair of black skinny pants. The symmetry of the legs was the pinnacle of perfection that no amount of fabric could subdue such beauty, it could only exude. Sad to say, from this day on, all other pairs of legs just can't compare.

And that forehead of hers, so perfectly shaped that it reflects light casting her in a kaleidascope of colours that only angels are capable of. I swear if more people had foreheads like her, we wouldn't need to be worrying about falling albedo values.

And that hair of hers, so perfectly layered, with the right touch of curls and highlights, any girl would maim themselves to have godly hair like hers. Fuck I'm utterly defeated by her beauty.

If you think I am starstruck, you haven't seen Vincent.

He was giggling like a schoolboy who got to second base with the hot English teacher fresh out of college.

I know the words here are crude, uncouth and downright fanboy-ish. But the awesomeness that is Jade Seah has burnt an everlasting impression in me.

Happy Birthday fucked up island!

2007-08-09T20:30:00.000+08:00

What a grand waste of time and money, the only good thing about National Day is the public holiday.

This year's parade serves as a reminder of how the government likes to pat themselves on the back and say "we did a good job, just look at the amount of taxpayer's money we are able to fork out for this lovely waste of resources"

I wonder why he looks pissed... mmmmm... I bet it's got nothing to do with the cap.

Here's why....

Don't you just love the main character to the parade Singh? So is he a lion? Or a lionfish? But looks more like a gold fish right? Or he just has a really funky looking turban?

Didn't you love it when the commentator was saying "he represents the future and creativity of Singapore" and just at that very moment he falls on his butt?

God bless this country. Many good years ahead.

Pain la dammit.

2007-07-24T20:09:00.000+08:00

Forgive me for the emo post, but it's my blog hurhur.

Nothing is sadder than a irrecoverable difference in opinion between a couple. When there's no one laughing about their differences and when tolerance becomes a burden, it's the painful end. Nothing kills a relationship like the lack of enthusiasm and empathy.

Things get worse when blame gets fired about. No one wants to be in the wrong. All the inadequacies, impatience, intolerance seem to pour out from the floodgates of the break up. It's ugly.

Even when you think you're too tired to play the blame game, there seems to be no amicable respite. Words that sting pride are hard to swallow, yet the last favour you could do for that special somebody would be just to shut up and move on.

I tried to bring away something from it all. That maybe there is no universal right or wrong when it comes to opinion. We are all brought up in different truths and values. My right does not always coincide with others. Most of the time it's the downright opposite.

I was pretty idealistic thinking that my first girlfriend would go the distance with me. I thought that hard as it is to find someone, people would try their best to change and adapt to make things work out.

Maybe the world works differently. People are always looking out for a better fit perhaps. Or maybe Love wasn't what they wanted in the first place. In my case, Freedom 1 Me 0.

But who am I to tell someone to give up their dreams? Too selfish to make someone forgo their dreams just to suit yours.

So isn't that the saddest part? Knowing that maybe, just maybe, it would've worked if there was that little change.

When you decided it's really over, you cheat yourself into thinking it's easy to move on. You try to breed indifference to the whole matter. Cascade yourself in the company of friends.

Yet, like a fresh amputee's stump, the nerve endings scream out for what was lost.

Dumb fucks shouldn't run schools

2007-07-22T11:27:00.000+08:00

http://www.todayonline.com/articles/201440.asp

No punishment, says school
Lin Yanqin
yanqin@mediacorp.com.sg

Friday was an occasion for pupils to imbibe the value of ethnic diversity, but for some 30 of them, it was a lesson on the cost of not coming in costume.

Ethnic garb was the requirement for this year's Racial Harmony Day celebrations at Jurong West Secondary. To all good intent, this was meant to create a better atmosphere and make it a grander occasion, according to the school.

But what happens when pupils turn up without an ethnic outfit? It means being left out of the best parts of the festivities, according to some who fell into this category.

Some 30 to 40 of them, who did not have costumes, were taken out of the activities and made to stand outside the school office for one-and-a-half hours, said a parent who called the MediaCorp Hotline, after her son was one of those who missed the finale.

"We had trouble borrowing costumes, and I didn't want to waste money buying something that he would only wear once a year," said Madam Ng, who declined to give her full name. "Why should they be punished for that?"

Avoiding punishment was on the minds of some other pupils.

"Half my class didn't even turn up because they couldn't find costumes," said a Secondary 3 student who declined to be named. "We were told we had to come in costumes or we might be punished."

But school principal Oliver Jeeva Balasingam told Today that Jurong West Secondary did not punish any pupils for not wearing costumes. "That is not true," he said. "Students who did not wear the costumes were taken aside and briefed by some teachers and then told to do a feedback form about racial harmony. I don't see that as a punishment at all. And they took part in other activities in the morning."

He explained that students who could not get costumes because of financial difficulties could have approached the school for help. "We could have helped them borrow costumes," he said. "That was made known to the students when we notified them about the costumes."

No student, he said, came to the school for assistance. "Only 30 plus students missed the celebrations, out of about 1,200 students," said Mr Balasingam. "I don't think that's excluding a lot of people; it's only a minority."

Elsewhere, Environment and Water Resources Minister Yaacob Ibrahim highlighted the important role of schools in helping "our students recognise the multiple identities that we've developed".

An old boy of Tanjong Katong Secondary, he said at his alma mater: "This recognition is important amid the shallow but increasing tendency to pigeon-hole people into neat boxes or categories, such as religion or civilisations ... When we look for the commonalities and the similarities, we'll see much more ... When we constantly strive to keep one another connected, we will be a cohesive society indeed."

Where do I begin? Maybe I'd do a psychological profile on Mr Balasingam for starters.

He's probably someone whose grades are above average but might've been overshadowed and outclassed by his talented coursemates.

He hoped to be the apple of his mentors' eyes but always seem to fall short of expectation. Craving attention he never got, he strived harder to get it.

Over time and countless disappointments, though his desire to be noticed is still strong, his confidence degradates.

He failed to get into law, so he turned to the other viable career path. Like they say "those who can do, teach".

It must've been paradise for him, all the little young minds to mould and all the little innocent eyes that can look up to him as role model.

But boy was he wrong. Nobody likes the old prude that walks around school asking people to tuck in their shirts.

So he hides in his office, planning out nefarious schemes against students. He knows that if he can't earn his students' respect, he can earn their fear.

He probably picked up the idea of forcing everyone to come in cultural garb when he saw all the Singapore flags hung out on his opposite block.

Yes, the need to comply in the majority is of utmost importance. "Fuck the minorities" he thought, ignoring for a moment that his race isn't exactly aplenty in his carefully race-distributed HDB block.

I wonder who was he trying to impress. Maybe he thought the students coming to school without racial garb had intentions of racial dissent? Ah that might be a stretch...

It's just saddening to see how inflexible people in high positions can get. If 30 students were only a "minority," why the hell did they have to be pulled away from the other students?

Why were they even punished when they simply could've skipped school or wore stuff that was non-suitable for the occasion?

Ah fuck it, my writing is as incoherent as that school's dumb fuck policies.

The incredible culture of FEAR

2007-07-06T14:35:00.000+08:00

Read this thread first

The feat of piloting planes as bombs is something incredible and incredulous. But the culture of fear created after that is much more amazing.

It seems that irrational fear strips a person of every morsel of cow sense. I'm sure that if I were an extremist I'd be chanting "Bomb bomb bomb hurhur bomb" like Monty Python chants "Spam".

It's a pretty amusing thing if you think about it. Top dogs issuing directives for the foot soldiers to carry out. The top being too insulated from society to know that some policies are just DUMB while the bottom is too DUMB to refute brainless policies.

Maybe the security officers were bored of their daily job, Singapore being excessively sanitized as it is. They needed some action I guess, perhaps watching too much Cops reruns.

Imagine going onto the plane...

Stranger yells across the plane: Hi Steven! You remember me? I'm Jack!

You yell back: Hi Jack!

*BOOM!* you are speared to the ground by the air steward and a Singapore Girl laying her heel on your crotch.

Steward: Quick call CISCO those guy wants to hijack the plane!

The sad state of the world. Everyone's paranoid. Little lemmings going to blow any moment.

A life lesson via streamed video

2007-06-19T15:01:00.001+08:00

Any man who is worth his salt should watch THIS.

2007-06-05T19:28:00.000+08:00

Had an angry angry hole in my lung recently. Damn. If only winning TOTO was so easy.

Apparently the cause of the hole (or Pneumothorax) is unknown. The only plausible reason is because I happen to be tall, skinny, asthmatic and drop dead gorgeous.

So the doctor ordered that an operation is in order because I happen to have two of those sexy holes happen within two months. Something not entirely rosy.

You know when you watch all the dramas on TV showing people afraid of going for a surgery, you'd tend to think "that wuss, it's just a surgery, and he won't die anyway since i read the synopsis so what's the big deal".

I was guilty of that too. But damn, when it really happens to you. You'll have a myriad of worries. Will the doctor fuck it up? Will he accidentally leave the scalpel in my body? Will I develop a blood infection and my organs start to melt after that?! Though the doctor said the operation has a 95% success rate, damn you know you'd feel unlucky enough to be the 5%.

However, going for the op meant one thing. DOWNGRADE FOR RESERVIST AND NO IPPT. HURHUR. That's a good enough motivator. Rawr.

Well the experience of going through the whole thing can be quite harrowing, but the surgery itself is a cinch. General anaesthesia is your friend. It's a pretty funky experience to consciously know that you're going to fall asleep. The world starts rolling backwards and then it's darkness.

Waking up from GA is pretty cool too. It feels like you're being sucked through a vaccuum and suddenly you're all awake and cold and muscles aching. I'll always remember the first words I said to the nurse when I woke up - "Can I scratch my chin?"

The first 24 hours after the surgery is pretty cool. I was high and dopey on morphine. I swear I could kiss everyone that came into my room.

The reality of the crap I'm in hit me on the second day. The effects of the GA wore off and I'm introduced to my new companion - MR PAIN.

I had two holes opened up on my back and side for the doctor to patch up my lung. On top of that I had a chest tube attached to my side to drain out all the nasty stuff in my chest cavity, a grand total of 3 nice punctures on my delicately smooth torso.

The sexy tube into my body

It might have been ok if not for the fact that IT HURT LIKE FUCK whenever I moved, sneezed, yawned, coughed, burped, twitched, giggled or get an erection. Yeah so that pretty much sucked.

The other irritating thing about the stay were the nurses. Ok they deserve some credit for their dedication and their motherly aura about them. But waking me up at 4am every morning to take my pressure and temperature really gets on my nerves. It doesn't help when they call me "dear" or "lim". I'm sure I didn't lose my name along with my consciousness during the op.

The most memorable moment has got to be when I asked the nurse why the liquid in the chest tube was not moving. She had no idea why either, so in a fashion that defies Darwin's theory of evolution and natural selection, she decides to squeeze the tube. Naturally, the liquid stuck in the tube shot right back into my chest. My mind was completely blank safe for this singular irritating pop-up banner that splashed the scarlet word "PAIN".

I hollered in agony hoping that the worst was over. But no, in a wicked twist of fate, the nurse decides to squeeze the tube AGAIN. How smart can that be? Bloody bitch fell down the stupid tree and hit all the branches along the way.

What followed next was probably one of my most unabashed display of emotion. I'm sure you're guessing that I lashed out at the nurse spewing all forms of vulgarities known to men at her. Well I did something much better and shocking.

I cried like a girl. It was that painful.

If I could give that pain a colour, it wouldn't be angry red. It has got to be white. White empty pain. Dammit.

That which does not kill you only makes you stronger, no? Gotta agree with that, I pumped more morphine to make sure I didn't die from more stupidity.

Another shock I got post-op was that they shaved my left armpit. I'm a freaking one sided armpit haired freak.

One last thing, it is imperative that each and everyone buys insurance to pay for such crap. The hospital assumes you're covered by insurance and therefore charges you for every single bullshit item they can think of throwing at you. I was charged 700 bucks for this doctor that popped by not more than 5 times asking me how was I doing. Hope he gets stabbed one day.

2007-05-24T14:27:00.000+08:00

I have to say Mars Vs Venus is one of the better shows among the useless crap Mediacorp produces.

Just quick bit of info.. it costs SGD8500 to run one 30 second commercial during Mars Vs Venus

Spielephant-man

2007-05-23T15:46:00.000+08:00

Fuck man this photo cracked me up while I was at work.

Forland Tarand and the average ah seng

2007-05-23T09:44:00.000+08:00

A guy's life in Singapore is rather bleak from the get go. When you're young and approaching 18, you fear what the army has prepared for you. When you're in the army you effectively waste 2 years of your life "learning" to "defend" the nation. So you lag behind by 2 years after being released from the clutches of "legally and morally" justified time wasting of Mindef.

You're already older (closer to being a liability) than the ladies in the workforce with the same amount of work experience. The government commands that males receive more for their services in NS. Sounds like a sweet deal no? But think about it. If you're the employer, will you employ someone that has to disappear 3 weeks every year to play with mud and pay him extra for that?

So in the world of maximizing profits and reducing costs, guys in Singapore get the shorter end of the stick.

But wait! There's more! The insidious horde of Expats approaches.

How do they always seem to draw more money than us? Why do employers love them? In MNCs they might be employed by virtue of the fact that they could have worked closely with the parent company and have closer links to the head office. Fair enough.

But what magical amulets do they possess to enable them to job hop with ease and rape us so badly from the back? Could it because of their superior physical assets that scare employers into hiring them? Are their accents so mesmerizing? Or could they just be plain better?

I blame it on culture. Our conservativeness and Asian cultural values though noble, impedes us. We are too humble, we tend to not voice our opinions, we keep quiet in our little cubicle in the corner dreaming about the "pat on the back" from the boss. All this while your fairer (pun intended) colleague is being chummy with the boss.

Underhanded? Shallow? Well, we're all humans. The boss (well most of them) loves to have his horse fart patted. Foreigners just have the social skills to make someone feel important. They appear above the line. When promotions come around, your name won't pop up in the bosses head if you didn't leave the slightest impression with the boss. That's what's happening to so many people now. They just don't speak up!

The sooner people learn that money HAS TO BE GRABBED, the sooner they will realise that they have to open that golden mouth and claw for the gold.

Conversely, they could strive to be an expat in China. That rocks. Seriously. HAHA!

Buying electronic goods 101

2007-05-11T17:36:00.000+08:00

Seeing how even though in the age of information people go into electronic stores and get their asses conned upside down, I shall for the sake of mankind, shed some light on the art of buying electronic goods.

I shall cite the best place to illustrate the bedlam of electronic sales – Sim Lim Square.

The first thing you should know before stepping in there is this, you WILL NOT get the deal of your life there. The conmen there (oops I meant salesmen) are out to milk every single possible cent out of you.

That being said, the place does have the merit of having the latest and best availability of electronics. Unfortunately, it offers the most cunning and conniving salesmen too.

So let’s get down to the lesson proper. Let’s say you are there to buy a digital camera. Always RESEARCH on the internet. Know the price it should be. Know what model is available there. Set your budget! The internet is your friend.

With a set budget and model in mind, explore the building. Always ask for the price from every shop. The prices will always differ. The obvious warning sign of a “black shop” comes when the salesmen asks you to quote the price you would like your item to be.

Say the camera you’re looking for is at $400, you can quote them any price you like. $350 for example. The next thing that comes is the “omfg I’m shocked that you quote such a price expression but I want to accommodate you” look from the salesman. He’s gonna say, “hmm $350 too low la, $450 ok?”

It doesn’t matter what price you quote, he’ll raise it. He’ll expect you to bargain lower. After some haggling you might reach your magical price. Hurray yeah? No. He’ll then try to CONvince you to get another brand or model. The price could be higher or lower, it depends on his mood.

Why does he encourage you to buy another model even though you’ve reached the agreement of $400 for the first camera? Simple, he does not earn any commission selling you at that price. He will try to sell other models to you to earn his commission.

At this point of time, please be smart. Be adamant about getting the first camera at $400. Why? Well because you’ll most probably get this answer, “Sorry ah, that camera you wanted I forgot we sold out, this set reserved already.”

It’s just a big round about telling you that there’s no way in hell you’ll get the camera off his filthy money grubbing hands for 400 bucks.

Time to move on. And make a mental note to pray that the salesman’s cock splits in half when he zips his pants up, while he spills lemonade on the open wound from the shock he gets.

Fuck those salesmen seriously.

On with our adventure around SLS. So after a harrowing encounter from the Satan’s salesman, let’s trudge about SLS in our quest for the perfect (mythical) deal.

What’s that? You see a signboard? $395 for your camera? OMFG Christmas arrives early!

Before you make hot passionate love to the shopkeeper, do note that when it’s too good to be true, it is too good to be true.

Here’s how it goes, you want it for $395? 9 out of 10 times you will have to buy the extra battery pack, extra accessories, extra memory card, extra CRAP THAT YOU DON’T NEED. Sure you can have the camera at that price, but you need to buy THE PACKAGE.

So if you’re desperate enough, you’ll be paying for OVERPRICED and redundant accessories. The bill will usually end up around $500? But what takes the cake here is the award winning line, “Oh and then hor $500 right? Must add GST hor.”

GST? Isn’t that like only 5%? Chin Cai la. Well balls to you. That’s another $25 bucks out of nowhere.

One more thing, under the law, if he displayed $395 on the signage, that price has to be considered as post GST calculation. Unless there’s a fine print saying “GST excluded.”

So if he pulls that “must charge another 5% GST” shit on you. You can technically sue him and report him to CASE.

And if you’ve done your research, should your camera be an export set (which means NOT FOR SALE in SINGAPORE), technically they shouldn’t even be selling it at SLS and technically they cannot charge GST for something not meant to be sold locally. Please be smart, please be wary.

Please check your set carefully before paying up too. Sometimes it might be a refurbished (read second-hand) set. There are seals where they say “Warranty void if broken,” please check that they are intact. Also make sure the serial number of your set matches the box.

Why is it so important to check? That’s because some shops deliberately take out some parts of your item and replace them with faulty ones. So you’re compelled to go back to repair it. More power to them no? SO PLEASE CHECK THE SET LIKE YOU’RE GOING TO MARRY IT.

Phew, long article no? One last section. The mysterious warranty. What does it do? How does it protect you?

Always read the terms and conditions. Under what circumstances are you entitled for free replacements and when you have to pay. Most of the time if it is product failure, the replacement will be free. But if you’re a klutz and just love to fling your camera down two stories just for kicks, then you’re on your own.

But do note this, the shopkeepers and salesmen will ALWAYS try to MAKE IT YOUR FAULT that the thing is spoilt. FIGHT YOUR CASE. Or you could go to CASE. Please keep the warranty safe and sound somewhere too. Receipts from shops are most of the time not recognized.

Heard of extended warranties? Those things where you pay a premium to extend your warranty period? In all honesty, unless it’s provided by the manufacturers of the product itself, it’s just a another waste of money.

Because extending a warranty beyond a scope of 3 years is dumb. Consumer electronic goods don’t last that long (in terms of technology). And most probably they’ll still blame you for making it spoilt.

When the SLS shops issue you the extended warranty, please read what that piece of paper really is. If it’s just a receipt, the next time you return to the shop, the salesman can just say “it’s just a receipt leh, you don’t bruff me loh.”

There’s still a myriad of ways you’ll get conned, so please do your research and be steadfast with your budget. Good luck hunting.

Fuck those salesmen.

A grand waste of time

2007-04-30T19:27:00.000+08:00

I was pretty over the moon when I got accepted into NUS. I thought, "Wow a slacker like me? Made it into university?"

Then my brother said something to me which I brushed aside 4 years ago - "Actually an Arts degree is pretty useless."

At first I thought, "Hey is preedee great that I'm gonna get myself a degree man. A DEGREE! The Singaporean Dream!"

But having finished my 2nd year pursuing this degree I've asked myself some questions. How are the things that I've learnt going to help me make money?

It's kinda like when you're in JC wondering how the binomial theorem, mathematical induction and the argument between the death sentence and life imprisonment is going to help you secure a livelihood.

But wait! There's more! Aside from the 12 years of mundane education prior to tertiary education, NUS decides to screw you over one more time! How is that?

A normal Arts graduate goes through 6 semesters (three-year course), raking in a total of 120 modular credits (or the more standard 30 modules). Seems pretty reasonable enough, no?

Well not quite, it seems that to be deemed fit a graduate majoring in whatever you are majoring, you have to take a total of 15 IRRELEVANT modules. That's 3 semesters' worth of bullshit.

I've had enough of the "well rounded all rounded student of the future" crap from the school admin. I do not see how taking a module on Singapore history is going to make me a better person.

Science of Music, Heavenly Mathematics and all sorts of nonsensical modules are available for students to take to fulfill university requirements. Honestly. Do we look like dumbasses?

Why doesn't the NUS admins just say "Hey, we just want to milk more money out of you mmkay?"

I wouldn't mind taking 30 modules RELATED to my major. Hell, if I can venture a guess, I think that knowledge gained will make me a mighty fine person.

Picture an employer having to make a decision between two potential workers -

1. The dude that's stuff full of the know-how of my industry

or

2. The dumbass who has half-assed knowledge of my field. But boy! He sure can bullshit about philosophy and the stars!

We all love to pick 2 right? Right? Please tell me that's how the world works?

Why can't there be a choice for students to choose whether or not they should take MORE modules within their majors? Why are they only allowed to take 15? Can 15 modules ensure that they will be competent in their fields? Will taking 15 irrelevant modules help them in their lives?

Ok to be fair, I did enjoy taking marketing and french which are modules outside of my major. However on the flip side, for each enjoyable module outside of my major that I took, there are 2 crappier modules in their place.

Excuse my french but, je n'ai pas de temps pour cette connerie.

I must also chap ji kar with the pay rise issue

2007-04-15T03:16:00.000+08:00

Looks like the whole tax-paying community in Singapore is in a great uproar with the ministerial pay increase. We have the artist for elite girl showing some great anger. We also have the damn freaking zai political commentator making his case against the hike.

Let's leave behind the whole argument that without proper governance Singapore would still be a backwater fishing village. Let's forget about the incredible transformation Singapore went through for the last 40 years. Let us also forget for a moment that the streets are generally safe at all hours and that 90% of the population is living in proper housing facilities provided by you-know-who. Let's also ignore the fact that Singapore has 0 natural resources and somehow we manage to churn out a GDP that is highest in SEA. Let's also not look at our neighbours and how they are faring.

Let's forget all that and focus on one simple fact. Ministers, like us, are humans. If YOU were in their shoes. If YOU were in power right now as a minister in Singapore. What would you do? Will you pull off a Gandhi?

Yes I know the money from the pay rise is coming from the tax payers' money. But ask yourself this, does it pain you to know that your tax money goes into making the "corrupt" ministers happy?

It really does? Serious? Why? How else would you like your tax money to be spent? Give to the poor that $46 million dollars. Yes that's the only solution isn't it? Our ministers WILL STOP TAKING CARE OF THE COUNTRY once they get their pay rise. They will all pack up and run away laughing at the doofuses in Singapore. I'm sure they will do just that. It would really seem that Singapore has to be an UTOPIA before the citizens think it's ok for a pay rise.

Forget about being ministers, if you, right now in your 9-5 job were told that you aren't going to get a pay rise for a long time to come, what would you do?

I also like how they all keep drawing comparisons between Bush and our PM. Is Bush doing a good job? Is America's brand of democracy the same system as Singapore's autocracy?
Would you like to have American income tax levels? I heard their educational system rocks too. Let's have that mmmkay?

It would be quite hypocritical for me to wrap up by saying that it is not fair to have the pay rise, but I'm going to go with it anyhoo. Yes it sucks, but like I said, what would YOU do if you were in their shoes? What would YOU do if you were in a dead-end job?

THIS IS SPARTA!

2007-03-13T19:26:00.000+08:00

The most manly movie ever made. It has got to be 300.

This flick makes LOTR and Saving Private Ryan look like chick flicks.

Awesome directing, breathtaking cinematography and mind blowing action choreography.

300 is the story about how 300 Spartans battle the Persian army of 1 million. That's basically the story.

Everything about this movie screams machismo. Even the plot is straightforward and direct, just the way a man should be. There are no wimpy twist and turns to the story-telling.

The Persian's want to prove that their dicks are longer than the caucasians, so they set off to conquer Europa. The thing is, Greece stands in their way. Well no, technically it is the Spartans. Well, not exactly. King Leonidas and his 300 warriors are what stands in the way of the Persians. So in fact, 600 balls of fucking steel stand in the way of the Persians.

The action as I mentioned, is beautiful. Every limb chopped off, every spear that is thrust through a torso, every blood spatter, they are all done so beautifully.

You will be so inspired, you will go out the next day, buy a bamboo pole, sharpen the tip with your bare manly teeth and thrust it into that asshole at work or in school. Just to reminisce the masterpiece of a film that is 300.

The clever use of slow motion during battle sequences surpass even that of the Baywatch beach running scene. Slow motion has never been this erotic.

The male bonding, pride and camaraderie portrayed in the show is so powerful. You'd feel like going back to NS and volunteering for the commandos. You want to die in that glorious battle.

Damn, I feel more like a man after watching 300. To think I was deciding between 300 or Music and Lyrics. Pfft.

2007-03-13T19:12:00.000+08:00

Sorry for the lapse of postings. It's a good sign that I am actually putting in effort in school. So too bad for you!

Here's a great advertisement that Dove apparently didn't think of http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygrt0STmez8

Check it out it rocks.

Anatomy of the perfect shit

2007-01-06T12:45:00.000+08:00

Picture this, I’m on my way home in the bus, it’s the end of a long hard day’s work. Just when I thought I could enjoy a nice, comfortable trip home. Then it hits me. I really need to take a dump.

It first starts out as a little discomfort. I tell myself it’s going to be okay, I can probably make it home and take it from there.

But Nooooo... My bastard of a bowel has got better plans. It wants release. NOW. Suddenly the whole bus feels fucking cold. The noise from the surrounding is blaring all of a sudden. Damn that TV mobile. Screw those kids playing their music on speaker phones (seriously though, I hope those people who blast their mp3 with their phones fucking drop dead). And why does SBS blast the air-conditioning?!

I wrap arms around my stomach to keep it warm in hopes of coaxing it. My hands are glued to my mid region. Any slight adjustment of my palms feels like earthquakes. Once the warmth of my palm is removed, the cold, the insanely piercing cold mercilessly reminds my asshole that it’s going to blow.

Nyargh! What should I do? I’m in the middle of no-fucking-where. The worst thing is, it is pouring out there. I close my eyes. Sleep. Yes that might help.

How the hell am I supposed to sleep when Mr. Bowels is saying ‘Hey dude, I’m not going to say this another time, you need to find a toilet for me to unleash or you can proceed to the back of the bus to do it”?

What to do, what to do?! I know! I’ll imagine that I’m having hot sex with some random pornstar! Getting an erection might help, no? As you can see I'm already slipping into the darkness of the shit. Plus nothing can really turn a man on if he really needs to pee or shit.

I see Vivo City! But it is 11pm. Should I take that chance? But I’d have to cross the overhead bridge and walk more than 200 hundred metres before I get to the nearest toilet.

In case you’re thinking “what an idiot he should take the chance before he bombs the bus”, let me tell you something about Mr. Bowels. He’s a tricky little bastard. If I stay put in one position and make minimal movements around, I could probably endure a good 10 minutes before D-day. However, if I were to make a run for the toilet, the combination of moving about quickly and the intense adrenaline surge would guarantee a happy new year in my pants in less than the 10 seconds countdown.

So I decide to bide my time. Greener pastures await.

Alas! Hope stays with the faithful! My spring arrives! God Bless M Hotel Singapore. A golden beacon of restroom hope! Do note that almost every single reputable hotel has a toilet at its lobby. You’re just fucking unlucky if you get one without one.

Bolting from the bus, I make a beeline for the hotel entrance. I have only a minute. Here’s another skill that you have to master. Restroom signs are ridiculously small for its importance and significance. Therefore, use common sense. The damn toilet will not be in the middle of the lobby or next to the reception, always look at the corners first.

I see it! The ceramic oasis of flushing bliss. Slamming the door I inspect the clean toilet seat (another plus point of hotel toilets, the last thing you need is a fucking filthy toilet when you need to take an epic shit), I try to undo my pants. NO! FUCK! Why the hell do pants have to have flys? Why can’t the world settle on elastic band pants or sarongs?! My hands quiver and my legs shake as I struggle to undo the needlessly complex pants system.

Nargh, after an eternity of undoing the buckle and the fucking zip, there’s only one word left to say – Salvation. My clouded mind for the last 10 minutes suddenly clears up. Seriously. It felt like I had an epiphany or something. I start patting my back for being so smart finding this clean toilet. Damn, I rock.

It's been a long time

2007-01-04T15:22:00.000+08:00

Hurhur haven't been posting. Well, not really motivated to write things for the past few weeks. But rest assured! I still have materials to keep them laughter coming!

Here's a gem I've dug out for all loyal readers!

Wait for it....

scroll a little further down...

the jackpot nears!

Hope you laughed as hard as I did when i saw this picture.

Happy new year people and have a good year ahead.

The match

2006-11-21T11:29:00.000+08:00

This Tuesday (Nov 21) at the Ministry of Sound, two young men will put on
their boxing gloves and fight till first blood, to vie for the place
in the heart of the beautiful Siantzu Casteels.

Before a crowd of thousands, they will fight like men in the ring. The winner will be free to pursue Siantzu as his love interest, the loser will walk away from this triangle.

This fierce competition between the two mean shadows a larger than life institutional rivalry that has been present for so many decades - Rafflesians vs ACSians.

Just who will be the MAN and who will be the BOY? We will find out.

Be there when it happens at The Ministry of Sound and witness the showdown of the year.

The fight many people could see coming! Will the gloves of brutal truth from Daniel the RJ boy prevail against the AC boy Jason the rich man's son?

Elite versus elite! Who will win the bragging rights for their respective schools which lesser Singaporeans like you and I could not care less for? Who will win the hand of the girl with a weirdass Chinese name?

Be at MOS tonight and be one of the naive people willing to part with their dough to witness this publicity stunt!

Just flag the damn bus early

2006-11-10T00:14:00.000+08:00

I love the flag the bus early campaign! It's so pointless yet so entertaining.

In the age-old tradition of Singapore, always blame the citizens.

Bus numbers on buses are too damn small, drivers drive either too fast or too slow, commuters just really not flagging the bus in advance.. the problems seem endless!

But alas! SBS has some answers as to why their service sucks and they are telling you, the commuter, to suck it up and just take it or leave it. Read on here! Do read the part on why the air conditioning on buses are sometimes too warm or too cold, I literally laughed out loud.

One gripe that I have with this whole bus thing is, why the fuck does SBS build so many bus stops BEHIND a damn overhead bridge staircase?! What purpose does it serve? The staircase blocks the view of oncoming traffic, how the hell am I supposed to 'flag the bus early'? Am I to camp in front of the stairs to look out for my bus and sprint back to the bus shelter to flag it down?

People on the overhead bridge rushing for a bus would have to make an unneccesary U-turn too after getting off the stairs. Seriously. Why? Are they going to blame me for their lack of common sense? Highly probable!

Zomg wheelchairs are deadly

2006-11-05T15:32:00.000+08:00

Just read the newspapers today. Apparently Candy Empire at ViVo City has a sign that says 'Please do not bring your trolley or wheelchair into the shop'.

How subtle man. Yes, as Singapore strives to be a world class nation with 4 million idiotic people smiling, we don't allow wheelchair-bound people into a candy store.

The reason given by the shop is that wheelchairs and trolleys might damage the goods and shelves and would also be a potential danger to fellow patrons.

I really wonder if some people actually use their asses to think before coming up with such crap.

So baby strollers and prams won't damage shelves and bang into people ah? Prams pink pink colour cute cute bang liao won't pain right? Must be because the pram inside got cute baby bang somebody's leg liao give a cute googoogaga the uncle won't angry.

The manager's defense of the policy was that their shop is a small one and cannot take the property damage caused by wheelchairs. I'm so sure wheelchairs come with battering rams. I quote, 'Ours is a small shop. It is not designed to take heavy knocks from trolleys and wheelchairs, unlike the hypermarts. And if anyone gets hurt, we will get sued,'

So by his logic, if I am at a kopitiam la-ing my kopi, the ah beng from the neighbouring table takes his kopi cup and smashes my head with it, I should sue the kopitiam owner for providing the cup and allowing the ah beng to lim kopi there right?

'Thousands visit our VivoCity store on weekends. We need to look into crowd control and stampede issues. That's why we don't allow wheelchairs in.'

Stampede issues!? What utter bullshit.

SU1101E: Introduction to Shutting up

2006-10-30T12:40:00.000+08:00

A definitive guide to the art of keeping quiet when appropriate

• Do you sometimes get glares of disdain in lecture?
• Do you get rudely interrupted with a loud “Shhh” between conversations in the library?
• Does your tutor cut you off mid-sentence whenever you speak your mind?

It has come to my attention that somewhere along 12 or so years of education, something went wrong with some students. They just don’t know when to shut up.

Perhaps they were brought up in an environment where it was ok to chatter incessantly. Or maybe their teachers were lax with discipline in secondary school. Somehow they feel it is all right to talk non-stop during class.

Something has to be done to help these unfortunate students. In a few years they would be going into the working world. It is imperative that they are educated about the virtue of shutting up. They need to know that it is not ok to gossip when their boss is giving a brief or when they are listening to a sales pitch.

I was hoping that the last frontier of their educational journey would right this wrong. The very last hope for golden silence lies in one place – the university.
Universities offer a myriad of mundane modules for students to take as a requirement to fulfill their ‘wholesome’ tertiary education.

From ‘Space and Health’ to ‘Einstein's Universe & Quantum Weirdness’, students take modules that would be of no help whatsoever to their lives in the future.

What better way to fulfill graduation requirements AND learn something useful than incorporating a module about shutting up?

Places that you should shut up

Do shut up at study areas. People tend to like studying without talking.

Contrary to popular belief, the library is not a place for chit chat small talk.

Unless you have a PhD for that particular module, it is common courtesy to keep to yourself and listen to the lecturer who has the qualified certification.

Tutorial classes are grey areas. Of course you would want to speak up to earn some participation points. However, constantly supplying the class with your inane ideas and opinions will not bag you an ‘A’. Small talk with your friends can be done after the tutorial.

Places you can talk all you want

The chat points in the library are built specially for you to use your mobile phone in. What’s interesting about this place is that every new academic year, freshmen would go in the chat point, talk at the top of their voice and say, ‘Hey I’m in the library, don’t worry they have this cool chat point for people to talk in!’ No, it’s not sound-proof. Yes, we can hear everything you say in there.

Wide open spaces where people convene generally would be good places for people to talk. I’m sure you all know that already. Look for areas with a loud buzz of human traffic when in doubt.
Toilets are great places to do some catching up amid the rushing of assignment deadlines and mugging sessions. For guys who like to boast about their manhood, urinals are great places to do straight up comparisons. So convenient, so fun!

Why you should shut up

• Irritating your peers WILL NOT get you a degree
• Interrupting lectures WILL NOT get you a degree
• Pissing off the lecturer WILL NOT get you a degree
• Not paying attention during lectures WILL NOT get you a degree
• Gossiping WILL NOT get you a degree

• Studying and not talking WILL HELP get you a degree
• Paying attention WILL HELP get you a degree
• Not being an irritant in school WILL HELP get you a degree

Where are the bloody articles?!

2006-10-29T18:13:00.000+08:00

This video is very old but it still strikes a chord with me. I had a teacher tear up my assignment before but that was way before camera phones were invented hurhur.

Don't you just love the way that GP teacher listed all sorts of adjectives to describe the student? Apathy and lethargy rhymed!

I really dislike it when teachers reprimand students in front of the class. It accomplishes nothing. Aside from shaming and putting a dent in the student's self esteem, it really breeds contempt for the teacher.

Oh and don't you love the way she says "All the good PRC students have never disappointed me from day one" ? Very very open minded of her to start classifying students hor? Then again she can't be too open minded when she doesn't condone "anti-establishment" articles. Go PAP!

Yes teachers are humans too, but they should know better since they've been students themselves before.

I love mediacorp productions

2006-10-25T16:58:00.000+08:00

A picture says a thousand words so.....

Cracked me up the first time I saw this picture. What was the director and scriptwriter thinking? They must have seen one too many Richard Gere credit card ads.
More guns more luck!

Upon further scrutinizing... something cracked me up even more...

He must have said to the director 'Aye boss ah, so many guns not realistic lah..'

The director must have shot back 'You shaddap, act so many years but still supporting actor nia, don't come and disturb my creative direction. Don't think you tio star awards nomination before i scared you.'

Which probably explains why a policeman would be so relak jack and holding the gun that way. Love his posture man.

The cock-sucking Departed

2006-10-23T23:45:00.000+08:00

Comparison between The Departed and Infernal Affairs is inevitable with all this hype about the Hollywood remake.

As the entry title suggests, it sucked cock if you are an Infernal Affairs fan.

Infernal Affairs is best remembered by the words exchanged between Andy Lau and Tony Leung during their confrontation about Andy Lau's true identity. The dialogue's simple yet poetic.

Loosely translated into english
Andy Lau: I only want to be a good person.

Tony Leung: Sorry, I'm a cop.

Andy Lau: Who knows that?

So what worthy quotes can be taken from The Departed to best represent and remember a wreck of a film by?

Jack Nicholson: So Father, how's sucking on the cocks of young boys feel?

Matt Damon: You fucking cock sucker! Blow me.

Leonardo Dicaprio: You cock sucking fucker!

Yes, there's a lot of sucking of male appendages going on in this movie. The scriptwriter seems enthralled with the male anatomy.

Pacing of this movie is damn uneven. The introduction was way too rushed. While some parts in the middle felt extremely draggy.

Direction of the movie sucked too. Gun fatalities looked really kiddy. People fell unnaturally when shot in the head. Either too rigid or too paper like. You gotta see it to really understand what I'm talking about. People actually laughed in the cinema when Leo died and when Matt killed the other two cops subsequently.

And Mark Wahlberg... what the heck is he doing in this film? His character seriously needed some cock sucking to relieve him of all his pent up anger and stress. There isn't a scene without him that doesn't include the words 'fuck', 'cock', 'suck', 'blow me' and 'asshole'. He must have one hell of a cock up his ass to be so anal.

The saving grace is the movie's plot which is mostly similar to Infernal Affairs. And surprisingly, Leo's performance is quite convincing and enjoyable to watch.

Oops think I gave away the plot back there. Just as well. I saved you $8.50.

The post on religion

2006-10-22T15:19:00.000+08:00

I know I'll probably ruffle a lot of feathers when I talk bad about a religion. But hey this is my blog!

So if you feel offended please click on the 'Next Blog' button on the top of the page and proceed with your life.

Alternatively you may start your own blog and say why your religion rocks, so people like me can go to your blog and click the 'Next Blog' button.

On Christianity

So many people like to argue why this religion is so great, so fake, so businesslike, so overrated, so underrated etc.

Personally I'm in the non-believer camp. There are just so many questionable things this religion proclaims.

For the record, the bible does mention dinosaurs. It doesn't explicitly say 'dinosaur' because that term was invented much later than the bible was written. However, the bible mentions 'Leviathan' and 'Behemoth' that both have very similar descriptions to the dinosaurs in our minds.

Ha! I bet many Christians did not know this and usually just argue that dinosaurs are fake just like the theory of evolution. Shame shame.

Anyway, if God did exist, I'd like to ask him (or her?) one simple question. Why in the world did you invent pain?

Conventional wisdom tells us that pain is the body's way of telling you that you are doing something that is potentially harmful to you.

But why that unpleasant shitty sensation? Couldn't God have come up with a better warning system? Couldn't it have been a voice in your head that goes 'Hallelujah' when you're hurting yourself? Divine intervention if you get my drift.

Maybe the reasoning is that some people need something extremely unpleasant to tell them not to hurt themselves. So what then of free will?

Maybe that the person doesn't know what he is doing is hurting him. Perhaps it never occurred to him that he shouldn't be handling hot coal with his bare hands.

Then we can ask God another question. Why did you create stupidity?

On Buddhism

After a meager existence of approximately 21 years, I have come to the conclusion that the Buddhists got it right.

Life is all about suffering. Pure and simple. I'm not talking about the suffering that comes from wars, famine or natural disasters. Sure those calamities cause immense pain and suffering but what I'm talking about is something more subtle and insidious.

The pain of everyday life. Ah...what did we ever do to deserve such shit. No one asked for our opinion when we were yanked out of our mother's womb.

We grew up being lectured by parents on the right things to do. We can't have the amount of fun we wished. The only reason we listened is because our parents provided for our living.

Then again, they owe us that much for shanghai-ing us onto this shithole called 'the world'.

We studied at least 4 unnecessary subjects in school. All to get us ready for work. Till this day I have no idea what the hell differentiation/integration has to do with me.

Ah work life... I haven't tasted it yet in full force, but judging from all the 'I wish I was back in school' comments I'm hearing it can't be very rosy. Slogging away 40 years of your life just to make sure you don't die. Yay!

Have any of you considered one thing? Once you're out in the working world, it's going to be waking up to the damn alarm clock.

Can you imagine the pain of hauling your ass off the bed at 6.45am every morning for a good 40 years of your life? I don't know about you but what did I do to deserve this?

On Hinduism

I've got nothing against this religion. A good belief system that got taken out of context by certain groups of people, resulting in much shit in South Asia.

On Islam

Just replace 'in South Asia' from the previous paragraph with 'around the world' and you'll be fine.

This is how lecturers ought to be

2006-10-20T23:58:00.000+08:00

Hrmmm.. Why aren't any of my lecturers like that? Perhaps it's because I don't have any bald Indian lecturers.

Every magic trick has 3 acts

2006-10-19T21:57:00.000+08:00

The pledge

A magician shows his audience something ordinary, when it probably isn't.

Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale are rival magicians hell bent on uncovering the secrets behind each other's magic tricks. The plot seems simple enough. Double crossing, sabotage and trickery. Simple predictable stuff.

The turn

The ordinary object does something extraordinary.

The plot thickens when Hugh Jackman goes halfway round the world to search for the ultimate magic trick. Does he succeed? Does he give up halfway? Gotta hold your breath till the end of the show to find out...

Meanwhile Christian Bale awes us with a magic trick he performs and has us (and Hugh Jackman) guessing. Is it that simple? Or is it pure magic?

The prestige

The astonishment takes place as the audience cannot unravel a magician's secrets.

The turn wouldn't be as amazing if the magician simply vanishes and fails to reappear. The prestige is where the audience is enthralled when the magician pulls off the trick and reappears.

This is where the movie truly shines. The twist is clever, believable and thought provoking.

Basically what Christopher Nolan did with the movie was that he pulled off a pledge, turn and prestige on the viewer. Magic.

*SPOILER ALERT*

The movie would've scored a perfect 10/10 if not for a simple reason. Hugh Jackman's final magic trick isn't quite realistic. The sacrifice that he talked about in the show is indeed thought provoking but I felt that it kinda stretched it a little.

Yay for piracy

2006-10-18T22:32:00.000+08:00

As if the originals aren't hideous enough, they now have fake crocs!

They diversified the product line with so many funky new colours!

Piracy knows no bounds.

I swallow.

2006-10-15T18:18:00.000+08:00

I might be slow jumping on this opportunity to laugh at a celebrity endorsement. Even though the campaign's out for almost 2 months, I giggle to myself everytime I think of it. For those people who are either sleeping in the mountains or stuck in a well, here's a refresher:

So what was Zoe Tay thinking when she decided to endorse this beauty product? I don't think the problem lies with the product, but the ad execution. I swallow? Huh?
Just like toddlers, there are many things you put into your mouth to swallow.

But we all know what comes to mind first when you hear "I swallow". Yes, man juice. I really don't believe Zoe is oblivious to the fact. She's educated and her husband's a pilot. I bet men give her husband the thumbs up and nod of approval whenever they see him on the streets. I'm pretty sure she's aware of the sexual innuendo.

So why did she do it? I have a theory... Perhaps she feels that as the reigning Ah Jie at Caldecott Hill (I heard they're moving!), she can do as she pleases. Remember the last Star Awards where she hopped up and down the stage egging Fann to marry Chris aka hit and run drunken Lee? I think she believes that she is a rather likable and credible figure for endorsing just about anything. So it doesn't matter what shit she says. 'I swallow', 'I spit', 'I vomit', whatever, it will sell.

But obviously, we have to put this theory to test. So does having a credible, likable or familiar source for an ad give the allowance for of a dumbass copy? Let's take a look....

Heh, I personally feel Uncle Sam does make it compelling to swallow no?

Why can't they just shut up?

2006-10-12T22:32:00.000+08:00

I really do not understand some people. You pay a premium to come to university, so common sense tells you that you should be making your money's worth and pay attention during lectures. You might actually LEARN something, no?

Maybe they don't care. Maybe their parents are stinking rich. Maybe the idea of paying $10,000 a year to come to school to chit chat really turns them on. The possibilities are endless.

I'm pissed that I have to put up with their incessant chatter. I wonder what are they chattering about. Is it something so juicy that it can't wait till the lecture's over?

WOW so exciting! Broke a nail? I'm so sorry to hear that! Heard that so and so got attached? That bitch finally ditched that jerk huh? WOW talk about interesting and important facts that CAN HELP EARN ME A DEGREE!

They should just give their peers the respect of their silence and the lecturer the respect of their attention. Self centred asswipes.

It's time to start writing some shit.

2006-10-11T23:11:00.000+08:00

Prior to the previous post, which was a pure rant, I have always admired people who could write well. In fact I'm downright jealous. It's always an accomplishment to write something witty. I shall partake on this journey of self writing. I shall one day write like chris rock talks. I shall one day be... fucking funny.

So what better way to start a blog that's about writing good shit than a brief, very brief, self introduction? I shall copy and paste wholesale my first writing assignment for NM2220: Media writing from hell.

*censored* was born in 1984 in Singapore. He prefers to be called Wee or *censored*. He is in love with Singapore because its people's thoughts are stifled and expression is limited, a fact that is much to his liking. He laughs at the fact that foreigners think that Singaporeans are a friendly lot, for he has not exactly experienced the said friendliness.

His childhood was spent more on playing than on studying, which bothered his parents a lot. His academic achievement was outstandly mediocre. Temasek Secondary School never really agreed with him. Mandatory extra curricular activities forced him to appreciate symphonic band music and to learn the Scout's pledge. He has since forgotten the pledge and has no clue on how to read music sheets.

His first love came to him when he was four in the form of a Nintendo. He had to give up playing Counter-Strike competitively for his studies, something that still fills him with regret today. A gamer at heart, he now places gaming at a grudging second to his girlfriend.

For now, he hopes to compelte his dgress without any hiccups and get a career in the media industry - preferably in radio or advertising.

Wham! 22 years of my life squeezed into 200 interesting words. I. Rawk.

The pilot

2006-03-01T23:25:00.000+08:00

I sit in my seat around campus and watch. Like any other guy, I evaluate the girls. That gets boring. The heat gets to me. I'm irate. I bitch. So I begin.
Yeah give me that bullshit about how you have your right to feel pretty. Or how I still look even though I don't approve of your dressing. Hail to gender equality. I've heard the canteen being called the 8-5 Runway. Omg la. I'm sure you look oh so delectable in your barely-there tubes in the sweltering heat and oil from the stalls. Just don't let me catch you with your sweaty pits. What's up with the need to dress up man. Wtf man. Com'on, I'm sure you pay the ever-rising tuition fees just so you can come to school to strut your stuff. Lovely make up you guys got going there. How does it feel to cake your face in layers of chemicals? The skin on your face be feeling warm and cosy yeah? What? Girls are allowed to experiment and explore their own sense of style? Hey, I'm bitching about your so called sense. Take a hint, it ain't working. Read more Cleo or Elle or heck even Cosmogirl. Read, not imitate. You are not Josie Maran or any other cover girl. They look good in anything, you don't. Experiment with your make up at home. Spare the poor people trying to have their lunch.

Hrmmm... I'm more or less done about the not-so-bad and pretty ones.

On to this particular specimen that I keep seeing around arts. First and foremost, let me assure you that most if not all men are shallow. I am male therefore I am shallow. So I'm pretty unforgiving when certain individuals dress up in the most elaborate and attention grabbing fashion and yet letting me down by their utter lack of attractiveness which in some cases, translates into unabashed disgust. Ok, back to this particular specimen. She's, to put it in the bluntest of ways, fat. Nothing wrong with being plus sized. Hell I was plus sized too, so I know how's it like. Her boobs... Ah... you know how men and boobs go... BUT, she has the incredible gift of instantly turning off anyone with her boobs. I have no idea how she does it. Maybe it's the sheer size of the ginormous mammaries or perhaps the deep, dark abyssal cleavage or both, but god... every time I see her around campus, she's always wearing something that's either extremely revealing that shows so much tits I can't breathe or she's wearing something so tight that her boobs threaten to pop off and start bouncing down the corridor(the bolero wasn't invented for people like her, but just like how North Korea shouldn't get their hands on nuclear weapons, it all goes wrong). I'm getting dizzy just thinking about it now. OMG LA WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU?! Well that's just her boobs. As a guy, we lie and say we're a boob guy or a butt man, truth of the matter is, we see the whole package. And this girl.. the whole package just screams "look at meeeeeeeee so i can deeesgust ewe!". Her makeup's of the standard OTT consistency. Foundation so thick it could hold a building. Eye shadow's what a Moulin Rouge reject would have. And blusher? What blusher? Try baboon's ass. Legs? I don't see any legs. I see flesh coloured beehives. I wouldn't usually be so particular about a girl's legs. But wtf... she wears either uber short shorts or miniskirts that gives a whole new meaning to the word "mini". How inconsiderate can you be with those skirts? You know they are short, at least try to attempt avoiding any upskirt. NO ONE WANTS TO SEE. And the worst part? FLOWY miniskirts! Wtfpwned! So the poor souls walking behind her would get a flash of her buttcheeks whenever the wind picks up. Stop imposing on a person's negative liberty. I have my rights to a nice view of a firm, tight butt. A beehive excuse for an ass? Uh, fuck off? Kkthxbye.

I have no frigging idea why doesn't any of her friends stop her. Or perhaps they tried. I wonder what response did this girl give. Heard she's pretty rich. Well I certainly hope for you that money can buy friends. I wouldn't be able to hold a convo with a person like her cuz I'll probably be lost in her cleavage or utterly repulsed by the mass of meat she has for thighs. My god la please just go die thanks.