"The happiest place on earth"

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Tuesday, November 12, 2002

First, to comment on all of Gabriel's witty comebacks. I mean,unfortunately, as a tenant, I don't have the authority to append tumour-like paragraphs on the edge of other people's diary entries, so I have to create a new one to deal with him.

Obscene pay right now when you're still young means you can put money aside, invest it, hopefully, retire early and enjoy it then. Mediocre pay which you keep spending now means that you'll be a wage slave forever AND you still work crappy hours.

Buka puasa is that period during dawn (Maghrib prayer time) when Muslims eat their meal before fasting from sun-up to sun-down.

The SMM's friend the finance clerk. One of my fellow misanthropes.

I was practically raised in shopping centres. My father worked in Suntec for a while. So I toured the complex a few times in its various stages of completion.

Big feet mean small dicks. Or is it the other way around? Gah - it's okay. I DON'T want to know.

Langkawi is a terrible rip-off, other than its value as a liquor import haven. The hotels are shoddy (except for the hideously expensive Mutiara); there are other islands with better beaches, less crowded resorts, less wonky guides, etc etc.

I have five credit cards. Three were obtained from my first horrible job, and the only reason I retain them is because they're still registered as staff cards (ie - no annual fee). I get my ex-colleagues to make sure they STAY staff cards in the computer system every now and then. The other two I use because they (Citibank) can be used for promotional offers in Singapore as well. You can have one, but my credit limit is damned low, and unfortunately I seem to use it more often than I should across the Causeway.

And if you want to buy me a present, buy me a Demotivational Poster:) I'm seriously considering buying a few for my office. Get my Dysfunction or Failure.

I drive a Honda CR-V. Family surplus car. Petrol-consuming bitch box SUV.

A Proton Arena has been described by my friend as "the pickup truck for a contractor with only one worker" (because you can't really fit people into the lame rear portion, and there's only room for one other passenger in front).

Do you think fattening is at all an issue to my emaciated self?

I would rather have myself sodomised by a rabid bull elephant on pachyderm Viagra than live in the same house with you. Nothing personal. But I don't mind you visitng and/or crashing on occasion.

Good call on giving Sarinee the Blood Sword books for free. Given that you and I are possibly amongst the few human beings left alive on the planet who actually have a complete set, yours is more beneficially sacrificed to the vagaries of the postal service (imagine what a disaster it would be if mine were lost.). I assume you used registered mail.

ICQ UINs of SCGS and RGS girls; I suppose they're like those SDU lists of single people. A desperate semi-government conspiracy to get these lians and muggers off the streets of Orchard Road, and into Matrix-esque creches producing scholarship students and CAP/GEP biots.

MSN is not a bad product; the enter instead of 'alt-s' combination has its benefits. But the point is - I don't *trust* Passport; and the way people are growing ever dependent on its convergence with hotmail and MSN. But it has a small memory footprint (gee - Windows product, all those undocumented APIs and procedure calls), but it's irritating because other people can tell as soon as you take someone off your list. And .. I don't TRUST Passport.

Went to the wedding dinner I mentioned earlier. The wedding dinner was for my ex-assistant-manager in my first job; ironically his wife-to-be had just moved two months ago to the merchant bank I *currently* work in and we'd both been to the same orientation batch, so I know both sides of the happy couple. Was seated at a table just *next* to the entrance; my chair was being constantly shoved by the hordes of people streaming into the restaurant. I didn't expect him to have such a damn huge turnout.

My table was comprised of the groom's immediate colleagues; ie, the staff at the branch he's posted in. I suppose as an ex-colleague, it was the most appropriate grouping for me to be placed in. One of the treasury dealers where I work was at the same table as well; his wife was, coincidentally, enough, the groom's boss and my ex-manager in my previous place of
employment.

My replacement in the branch turned out to be this rather fetching ex-platinum-card salesgirl with a great figure, but a rather meek attitude throughout the whole dinner. Pity. Fortuitously, there was yet *another* replacement for one of the other officers (my branch has a hideously high turnover rate); a very cute, if somewhat over-perky chick. Another Australian alumni. And, praise the powers above, she was the only other smoker at the table; which meant that I at least had someone whom I could surreptitiously slip out in between courses of rather badly-cooked seafood for a quick smoke.

Was somewhat embarrassed to note that only half of the branch turned up for the wedding. Kind of a blow, when the employees of the branch the groom worked in previously showed up and occupied two tables. One of the guys at the table also noted that we were probably placed at the corner nearest the entrance because the groom sees his immediate colleagues every damn day - he probably didn't want a subconscious reminder of his daily toil on this joyous occasion.

Also learnt much to my great edification - if you ever have a wedding dinner, NEVER EVER EVER EVER FOR GOD'S SAKE HAVE FUCKING KARAOKE. NEVER. For one thing, all the horrible geriatrics, particularly those from the more rural parts of the world. Your more fanatic, dewlapped, gleaming-at-the-eye, "Wah sey Ah Boy/Ah Girl finally getting married I damn happy leh" type may
even bring their own laserdiscs, the better to croon/serenade/bawl out their favourite selection of Teresa Teng ballads and old Hokkien ditties.

To top it off, a successful career in commercial banking means that the groom had met a lot of clients in his time; particularly a lot from his first ulu posting, where he made close acquaintance with a large number of loansharks, property developers and contractors. Now imagine TABLES of this ilk, a free-flow of alcohol, and before you knew it, some old bastard was belting out "hai yuan" , followed by a song with the incomprehensible refrain of something like "chiu kang chang puey bo".

I watched, horror-stricken, as aged relatives soon joined in the degeneracy. Caught a glimpse of the groom; while his features were benignly impasssive, I thought I could detect an involuntary tic in his left eyebrow. The bride had vanished somewhere, probably to prevent her wedding dress train from withering.

My colleague at my desk had his face buried in his hands, and his wife murmured to me, "This is why I forbade karaoke at my own wedding."

My perky-fellow-smoking-kaki whispered, "It could be worse; at my cousin's wedding my father was dancing with a bottle of cognac in one hand to 'sha la la la la.. sha la la in the mooorning.'. At least none of them here are related to us."

Mercifully managed to flee with a deluge of other attendees with taste as soon as the last course was over, while the diehards were still caterwauling on the stage. At least the groom could be sure that there wasn't going to be leftover alcohol.

Final observation: Why do guys tend to have this semi-belligerent, yet semi-nervous look in their eyes when facing each other within the confined, rancid depths of a crowded club male toilet? I see females looking at each other with either absolute apathy or catty, open bitchiness. But never the same half-glazed, ambivalent mixture of fight-or-blush discomfort that males do.

Have finally purchased Mechwarrior : Mercenaries; while the engine is a tad dated, the game system looks *good*, and the whole "mercenary company" feel is very well captured. Might seriously consider getting the Mech Paks as well.


[Ed: The tumours could be malignant. And grow. And grow. And grow.

Anyhow a two headed snake would never survive.

Give me a credit card! Argh.

I'm giving "Stupidity" to Council. "Never underestimate the stupidity of people in large groups". Shows people skydiving. Perfect for the 23rd at their investiture.

I'm not GIVING Sarinee the books. I'm LENDING them to him. How's your set more precious than mine, apart from my battered #4? Bah. Not sent them yet.

One day I'll make a M$N is evil page. And list why it sucks. But I'd have to go scrape the barnacles off my plant pots first, since it's more pressing. The evils of integration with WinXP means my cause is lost anyway.

Sister didn't have a wedding dinner. I don't plan to have one either. Maybe a small tete e tete with friends.

Should you be checking out cute chicks? *ahem*

How come you've seen inside female toilets before?]
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