When you can't live without bananas

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Friday, November 15, 2002

Mary had a little lamb
Her father shot it dead.
Now it goes to school with her,
Between two chunks of bread.

Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet,
Her clothes all tattered and torn.
It wasn't the spider that crept beside her,
But Little Boy Blue and his horn.

Simple Simon met a Pieman, going to the fair.
Said Simple Simon to the Pieman,
What have you got there?
Said the Pieman unto Simon,
Pies, you idiot.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the kings horses and all the kings men,
Said "Forget him, He's only an egg."
Bah I can't go for my MO's housewarming tomorrow because I'll be on Ops.

And there's something else I forgot. No matter.

*Pork chops pay for university *

Haram education!

Rules for Writing

Thursday, November 14, 2002

Star Control 2 tracks I particularly like, in no particular order:

Supermelee music
Quasispace (PC version)
Ur-Quan Kzer-Za

But the rest are almost all nice too :)

Weekly Aborted Site: Akadama-Ya

"When you first arrive at the site, you will probably be saddened by the fact that the entire site is written in Japanese. I have no fucking clue what any of it says either, so don't ask me. However, I'm pretty sure that it would read something like this:

"Hi! I am a big pedophile from Japan, and enjoy drawing pre-pubescent anime girls being raped and molested by Digimon, and other strange creatures. I have no life whatsoever. Please donate $5 to my Paypal account so I can continue to indulge your sick fantasies."


Travel Guide


Home of Mr. Bean.

The People: What�s a British person, you ask? Take an American. Then take an electrified cable and ram it deep into their ear canal to give them a �peculiar� and �charming� personality.

Sites to See:
1) The Queen: You�ll have a hard time seeing her. She�s surrounded by ninja guards.
Visited Downhere's house with Ger. Visit was spent looking at screens.

First was Wuthering Heights. A French adaptation, rather. Very ZZZ-ish. I felt like bludgeoning myself with Kenneth's bolster. I think Battle Royale would have been much livelier.

After that was Anime watching. I wasn't really keen on that, but it was somewhat of an eye opener. Both shows - Cowboy Bebop and Kodomo no Omocha, were eminently more understandable than the crap that was "Shoujo Kakumei Utena", though the Japanese are really disturbing - For Kodomo, what's an 11 year old girl doing with a 25 year old boyfriend? Kenneth also played a bit of Chobits, but both of us were barely tolerating it, so we shut the window after a while.

Japanese Anime does have its merits, but I still say it's overblown and overrated. People talk in such fake voices, timbres and tones, act really over the top, make lame jokes and do improbable things. And all the characters have hellishly large eyes - probably the Japanese artists subconsciously compensating for their inadequacies (small eyes).

I also saw a copy of RJ Outlook. It looks much better now. The RJ Chamber Alumni had a concert - 'Noteworthy' - in July and Ee Kia and some other person with a male-sounding name ('Yap Shing Nan') sang soprano for Pergolesi's Stabat Mater. Yeh!

Later, Geraldine was supposed to watch Harry Potter with her friend formerly from The School With The Most Indecent Uniform In Singapore Bar None (SCGS). However, the latter was asked out by a hot guy, so I ended up accompanying Screwed Up Girl. Wonderful it is attending movies on the first few days, with considerate audiences, most of whom are probably ardent fans. There were no irritating noises from the audience, and only one handphone rang (and it only rang too, and the guy was hushed by everyone). Though I didn't see anyone dressed as Dumbledore.

Jiamin apparently has been formulating lots of slash (why's it called slash when it doesn't involve slashing or violence?) theories about Harry Potter. Gah, corrupting the young boys. Anyhow I know why Yaoi Girl likes Harry Potter. Tons of pre-pubescent boys. Magic. Benevolent and avuncular superior figures. Perfect. Of course she denies it, but we all know the truth :)

Yechao doesn't, or didn't rather, know what Carrefour was. *Slaps forehead* And I thought "Maki" was the worst he could go.

And Yaoi Girl refused to let me know where she was having her haircut, so I couldn't go annoy her :(

Everyone loves Wo-Hen Nankan!

he's like, super gross and U-G-L-Y and has that long hair that probably has kutus and dandruffs (whatever spelling) and is dirty and.. yucks!! i mean JUST LOOK AT IT!!!

GROSS!! looks like a pile of dried algae -eewww-

he's a HAiRY man -nods self-
gwad disgusting!!

and those "princesses" probably dump him after getting half of his millions and billions"

"He'll go to heaven. the legions of Hell don't want him."

"eh...the person looks really gross,cant believe girls will like him and even wanna be on the bed with him... :X"

its money they're after.."


"maybe one day i'll go to a lan shop and sign the guess book:

Name: none of your business
Referred By:
Comments: hey Asian Prince, you suck. yep, S U C K. LOSER!!
Am I Not Hot?: didn't i just say you suck?"

"haha is this for real...what a thing....is it a male or female?"

"I shall print his picture out and distribute it to my ex classmates... (meeting some of em tomorrow)"

"print his face out and wear it to a fancy dress party"
Interesting observation on today's referrals: one from another person's referral stats page on extremetracking.

Which means that when someone was checking his or her extremetracking to see the referrals to his or her blog, he/she saw someone who had clicked there from a link on Balderdash, and subsquently that person checked us back out by clicking on the Balderdash link in his/her extremetracking stats.. and now that click-through from extremetracking has shown up on Balderdash's referral stats..... But it doesn't really lead to an infinite series of click-throughs; unless even the *referral stats* page has a meta-referral stats function to track who's been checking out stats..... Whoa. Deep.

*takes in a deep, throaty gulp of hashish smoke - or at least feels like doing it*

Argh. Head hurts.

I meant that. I am still in shock after typing in a few innocent names at random.

At least now I know what to say to a friend who asked me of Geraldine's essay: "Who is Gabriel? Shouldn't it be Gabrielle?"

I realise a lot of anime fans are into Neil Gaiman as well. What a travesty, at times, but the kind of people who would be intrigued by some of the more outre storylines of anime are the kind who would enjoy Neil Gaiman's dark, yet quirky writing.

Gabriel's obsession with the AsianPrince has dragged him to new depths of perversion

Extract from old meatspace diary:

"They say death teaches us about the value of life. And I suppose it does - as long as it happens to someone else."
Accolades for an anime mush generator Jiamin linked to:

"at the generator

still screaming in agony


i am forever tainted

i have been to S&M parties, satanic rites, and hello kitty conventions

but i have seen no degeneracy on earth, no vileness that even matches the horror i have witnessed on this page.

i beg of you.. slay me now!"

I realise Yaoi Girl too has an Oh-So-Slight Accent. She can form a club with the other one :) And to her rebuttal of my objection to her thinking dirty thoughts about LOTR, I reply: You don't understand manly/kingly Death Rituals ;)

There was an article in the "Commentary" section of Monday's papers - "NS a social distillery for ethnic cohesion". Very ironic, as the cartoon showed an APC rolling back and its tracks spelling 'Ethnic Cohesion'. I doubt there were any Malays in that APC. I should write a letter to the forum in protest, but I'll be charged under the Official Secrets Act. They allow names to be changed if there is a "very real threat to life and limb". I guess DB does not threaten my limb or my limb, so it's okay.


[On someone named 'Nah'] The 'Nah' is really nah bey. Fucked up.

[On not being allowed to leave camp on the night of the ORD function] Married personnel, don't take it personally. [Points to someone] Don't ask your wife to call me again ah

[A Lance Corporal] I'm downgrade ah [Spec: I think you should be upgraded and promoted] Fuck you. (downgraded)

[On retaking GP] Then you go Hua Cu to take. Then you will feel that your English is very good. Serious. (should go to)

Wednesday, November 13, 2002

Try this.

Not exactly a hate IM site, but it puts the salient points across quite nicely.

It was out of context in the sense that those phrases were sputters of incoherent rage. Yet, behind the bitching, there is madness to my method. Which requires elucidation and further ranting, which I might do at a later date. Nonetheless, I've said all I have to say on the topic.

It could be a hydra on the mend. Either that, or it's downsizing. Haven't you heard? Times are bad. Too many mouths to feed.

Aarrgh! MMPR! Begone, foul beast! Voltron, save me!

I don't really know what they do inside the toilets either, but from the few brief tantalizing glimpses I've had, it involves crowding in front of the sinks (usually three to a mirror), using their compact, adjusting their straps, some arcane ritual called "powdering their nose", and usually the females there are divided into groups that went together to the washroom en masse, leaving the guys they went with back at the bar or dance floor, staring bewilderedly at each other.
Stumbled across the webpage of a "Rachel Wu Sikorski". It hasn't been updated since 1996, but Geocities hasn't deleted it.

Apparently this is one of the 2 RJ girls who died in the ODAC rafting accident at Pulau Ubin in 1999.

Her boyfriend still signs the guestbook from time to time.

Touching. Coming from me, that's something.
Has anyone ever noticed just how much this guy:

Looks like what this kid will in 20 years time?

Pay close attention the physiognomy of the nose and browline, in particular. And ignore the hair.

Putin .. Potter.. am I the only one who fails to see the connection???? The increasingly darker storylines in the series.. the corruption of Harry Potter as he becomes the new Dark Lord... his ascension to power on a wave of sorcery and intrigue (think about it - Putin was a total rank outsider who emerged out of nowhere as the annointed heir when Yeltin's vodka-saturated bulk was hauled out of office. Don't tell me that some sorcerous glamour was not involved - hell, forget magick, all Putin needed to do was to put a few bottles of Stolichnaya in front of Boris and he'd have signed anything). Evil wizardry and access to thermonuclear weapons - a most puissant combination.

This is more metaphysical proof of the inevitable triumph of darkness over light.
Word of the day: "novation"

Your appended comments are more like dead ugly conjoined twins.. like that South Park character with a fetus on her forehead. The comments are probably the tumours, since they're the ones that grow. Although how come no one comments that much on our garbage? Probably due to the fact that the comprehensive ranting of our entries leaves little space for marginalia.

As I said to you, I assisted in the redesign of your blog commentary template in the interests of ensuring that our enduring commitment to the complete and utter absence of any aesthetic artistry on this blog is adhered to. Already there is one little irritating sidebar, but since the links there help to faciliate archive retrieval, I tolerate its presence. Don't push it.

A two-headed snake might survive if it was a hydra.

Why do you want credit cards? They are EVIL objects meant to trap you within the samsara of consumerism forever. Erm. But they make paying for petrol really easy. As well as ordering shit off the Internet. ARGH. (*muttermutter* stupid crappy rate of exchange and absence of purchasing power parity)

My set is more precious, simply because it's mine, and as for shipping it overseas - obviously the worry it would cause me as a more emotionally sensitive bipolar depressive merchant banker is less than the worry it causes you as an apathetic, yet oddly Zen-like NS-man. It's a matter of applying some of the Benthamite "felicific calculus" - ie. my happiness is more important than your lack of it. His protege J.S Mill has good words on the distinction between higher and lower classes of pleasures too. In any case, promoting Blood Sword to the masses is a noble cause; and like all noble causes, it's always about the older person telling the younger person to go sacrifice himself for the greater good. Karmic accrual.

M$N is evil indeed, but an anti-M$N page is going to be pretty cliched, methinks. And yes, your cause is lost. The distinctiveness of your PC will be assimilated into the Gatesian conglomerate.

"The worst thing about being Bill Gates is that you can never be sure if your hand isn't having sex with you just for the money."

I can see why you shouldn't plan for a wedding dinner. *sincerely*

Ask me to explain my chick-rating system one day. If anyone knows anything about credit ratings (Standard & Poor, Moody's, Fitch), and is interested to know how equity = marriage while bonds = relationships, just drop a line.

Because in clubs, female toilets inevitably have a queue snaking out the door, and wending serpentinely for miles outside. Blame it on women and the inefficient anatomy of their biological waste disposal mechanisms. That, and the way they all crowd in front of bathroom mirrors with eyeliners, tweezers, lipstick, and other hideous cosmetic paraphernalia. It's quite possible to see more than you want to when walking past an opened female toilet door.

I still think you're awfully stubborn over the submit button thing. But I put up with your little eccentricities.

Why should Microsoft release the Mech Paks as a patch when they can squeeze a few extra dollars out of the consumer? I mean, there are people who *really* want a Cauldron-Born or a Highlander in their game. Fortuitously, the only economic contribution I shall be making will be to the happy pirates, who deserve my money far more for providing me a necessary psychological prophylactic at affordable prices.

"No lives" isn't such a bad thing. I haven't got one too. *shrugs* But I like to think I spend it constructively furnishing my own internal mental dioramas, scratching my navel, reading philosophy and watching pornography, compared to inflicting execrable graphic pretensions on the world. *primly* I'll stick to verbal pretensions, thank you very much.

*peers* You really do enjoy quoting me out of context, don't you? Should I qualify my statements in greater detail? *rhetorically* But it's more masturbatory than usual to annotate one's own quotes as paraphrased by someone else. Oh well.

I've refused to do a webpage of my own all these years mainly because I'm as lazy as a sloth on pot. That, and the fact that I haven't got a message to say to the world at large that demands my own personal presence on the net. On the other hand, renting space on a blog allows me to organise my thoughts a little, kill time at work, and occasionally archive down some of the more interesting events in my life, without the responsibility of owning my own *territory* that demands a personal imprint, personal pretension, and an expression of my retarded aesthetic sense. And of course, the hassles of maintaining a rented blog are borne by the landlord.

Why do you think I blog here? Because of the brutally utilitarian format, devoid of any artistic trapping or fancy colour scheme (cranberry is not a colour scheme). It's only the words that matter. Not the fancy backgrounds or the 3l33t chatboxes or the brooding fonts. Simple Verdana text on a white background.

And as for that essay, I believe these words sum up my feelings best. "I could gouge out my eyes, smash the tainted orbs on the floor, sprinkle salt over my bloody sockets, and whip myself repeatedly with a broken-glass-laced cat 'o nine-tails, but I could never gouge out my memory."

Still, it's nice to be loved, isn't it?:)

Delta Secondary School has lots of chickens. And even there, I wasn't safe from "Army News", one copy of which was tacked on the notice board.

I didn't write a very good essay. "Does a study of history make you optimistic or pessimistic about the future of mankind?". Bleah. Forgot the stuff I read in Primary and Secondary School.

At least I remembered how to spell Hatshepsut ;)

Was very un-indulgent and un-cynical today. Wow.

There were quite a lot of ex-JC students taking the exam. Well, they looked like they used to be from a JC. Some foreigners too - I saw some passports. And there was a middle aged Indian couple - the guy was balding. Lifelong education indeed :) The invigilator caught one girl writing after time was up. Uh oh.

I was quite pissed to see that I had the only Green IC in the room :(

3 times the number of people taking the revised paper took the old paper. Not many were as foolhardy as I and my intrepid lot! But they cheated - at least 4, and probably all of the essay questions were shared between the two papers! And apparently, somewhere not too far away (well, this is Singapore), Aravind was retaking his too.

Comprehension was interesting. There was only one passage, which means that the teachers have been getting the format wrong all this while :) And, trite though it might be, was on Singlish. Hah! Some of the questions were quite odd. "[If they cannot switch between Singlish and English, they will be left behind] economically and socially" - "What is Mr Lee saying?". And it wasn't a "in your own words" question too. Erm.

I miss sentence making though. Making subversive sentences was most fun :)

GP was weird. David agrees. Cambridge is trying to be farnie this year.

"every time I talk to you
I must drop by dictionary.com...

there are some people who are older than you, and have trouble keeping up with your language"

Haha :)
Gak. My name has been used in vain!

Screwed Up Girl has just topped herself.

"A Night To Remember

Amidst a bed of flowers, Yechao drew Geraldine into his arms and declared, "Geraldine, you look exquisite."

She blushed at the intense gaze that swept over her. "Oh, Yechao."

He drew her nearer, his eyes closing slowly. "Geraldine, how many times do I have to repeat myself?"

She was jerked back to reality at the last remark, the traces of her daydream disappearing as she looked up to see Helen Tan glaring at her, a vein threatening to pop out of her forehead. Geraldine could almost see the lightning
bolts flashsing behind her teacher's back as her voice thundered over the room. "Your mind is obviously somewhere else, Geraldine, and I will not tolerate such behavior in my class!"

But before she could open her mouth to apologize, the bell rang. Helen Tan shook a finger in the air. "We're not done yet, young lady." But the warning was drowned by the rush of students that filed out of the classroom. Geraldine heaved a sigh of relief. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the object of her affection walking away.

Her best friend Gabriel joined her. "Don't tell me you were daydreaming about your Prince Charming again," her friend teased.

Geraldine flashed a guilty smile. Ever since she met Yechao at the start of the year, he was all she could think about. At first, she was drawn by his attractive features -- his sparkling black eyes, his striking black hair. She felt so warm inside when he first smiled at her, and she could swear that the world was brightened by the twinkle in his eyes. But when they were recently paired as Chemistry lab partners, she fell even more in love with his gentle, thoughtful side. Once when she was sick, Yechao visited her house and brought her their homework. Another time when she accidentally broke her beaker, he slid it over
to his side, just in time to catch the ire of their lab teacher about damaging school property. When Geraldine tried to speak up, he discreetly placed a hand on her arm and stopped her. His mere touch was enough to silence her.

But even though Gabriel knew that she was in love, Geraldine didn't dare tell her friend with whom. She was a bit reluctant that her friend would tease her to death, or worse, do something like deliver him to her bound and gagged.

"So, has this mystery guy asked you to the prom yet?" Gabriel asked.

Geraldine shook her head. "No, and I don't think that he's taking anyone else."

Gabriel scowled. "What is he, gay?" At the murderous look that Geraldine gave her, she backed off. "Okay, okay. But what are you going to do? The prom's tomorrow night! You can't wait for him to take action, you have to invite him yourself!"

Geraldine paled at the thought. "I couldn't do that! He might think I was too forward. Besides, you're one to talk. I don't hear you telling me that you have a date for tomorrow."

Her friend placed a hand over her mouth and laughed. Gabriel had a very disturbing laugh, the sound echoing through the halls. "Ohohohohoho!" Then she winked. "You've been so secretive lately that I decided to teach you a lesson. So my date is for me to know and for you to find out."

By this time, they had reached the cafeteria. Gabriel, who always brought lunch from home, went to look for a table while Geraldine got in line to buy her food. As she
debated on getting what appeared to be baked macaroni, she felt someone standing close to her. Too close. Geraldine turned to discover Yechao there, holding a lunch tray in his hands.

"Hi," he greeted her with a smile. Geraldine could feel the blush coloring her cheeks as she returned the greeting.

Complete silence. As the line moved on, they both got the macaroni and a drink. But Geraldinewas nervous. Inwardly, she cursed herself for being so flustered when he was around. Then she remembered what Gabriel told her, that unless she took matters into her own hands, she might end up alone on prom night. "Uh, Yechao," she began. Then stopped and took a deep breath. "Uhm, are you going? Uh, tomorrow night? To the prom, I mean?"

He nodded, a slight blush on his face.

They were near the counter now. This was it. She had to find out. "Uhm, so who are you taking?"

Yechao opened his mouth to reply, but the entire basketball team chose that exact moment to cut through the line on their way to the gym. Geraldine sweatdropped. A moment later, she gasped when she saw Yechao lying on the ground, his macaroni on the ground, his eyes swirling around in confusion. He looked well, semi-deformed.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He was up in a second. "Yes, I'm fine. But I think I'd better go and have this mess cleaned up." He refused to look her in the eyes. "I guess I'll catch you later." Then without another word or a backward glance, he walked away. It was only when he was gone from sight did Geraldine realize that he didn't answer her question.

The rest of her day was uneventful. In Chemistry class, they had an exam so there was no way that she could continue their conversation. But it was after school when
she had the shock of her life. She was fixing her blouse in one of the bathroom stalls when a pair of girls walked in and started talking. "That new guy Yechao is so hot," one of them said.

Geraldine perked up at the remark, feeling her fox ears popping out of her head as she strained to hear what they were saying.

"I know," the other girl agreed. "It's a shame he's taking someone to the prom."

"Really?" the first girl asked, and Geraldine nearly spoke the same word at loud.


"Didn't you hear? He's taking Gabriel!"

Geraldine's life was over as she felt an anvil drop on her.


Of course she was still alive, but Geraldine really felt like dying. Yechao and Gabriel? It wasn't fair! As she tossed and turned in her sleep, she couldn't help but glance at the dress she was supposed to wear for tomorrow. It was in her favorite shade of blue and Gabriel had even helped her pick it out. They had planned on going together in case they didn't find dates, but Geraldine was sure that hanging out with her friends was a fun way to spend the night. But now, how can she go? How can she even face them?

Needless to say, her sleepless state didn't go unnoticed. Gabriel shot her a worried glance when they met during homeroom. "Are you okay? You don't seem to be
too excited about tonight."

Geraldine managed a small smile. Technically, she wasn't allowed to feel jealous -- after all, Gabriel never knew that she was deeply in love with Yechao. There was no reason to worry her friend. "Just a little under the weather. It's
nothing," she assured her.

From across the room, she felt someone eyes on them. Geraldine raised her head to see Yechao looking at her with a concerned expression. Maybe he saw Gabriel looking worried so he was curious. In any case, Geraldine didn't think that she could stand looking at his beautiful black eyes a moment longer. She tore her gaze away. "Listen, about tonight..."

But her friend was already chatting away. "I'm still going to go over to your place to dress up, remember? I'll have my mom drop off my dress later. We're going to have so
much fun, I promise! I've already taken care of our ride and all, so you don't have to worry about anything."

"What about your date?" Geraldine asked bluntly. She wanted to ask her about Yechao, but she couldn't just find the words. She wanted Gabriel to be the one to volunteer the information.

Gabriel casually waved her question away. "Don't you worry about that, I've already fixed my plans. Hey, I'm bringing a whole bunch of nail polish for you to try on. I think I have just the right color to match your dress. And Mom lent me her pearl necklace to wear--"

Geraldine tuned her friend out, not caring anymore. It was nice to see Gabriel excited but in truth, it hurt her that she was the one that Yechao liked. And yet she couldn't stay away. If she did, her friend might suspect something. And
more importantly, Geraldine realized that she couldn't walk away from him. If he only saw her as a friend then that was enough for her.


"You look beautiful!" Gabriel exclaimed as Geraldine twirled around in her gown. Even if she felt depressed, putting the dress on lifted her spirits a little bit. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Was that really her? The smooth satin clung to whatever curves she had before pooling into soft folds at her feet. It was designed to look like a dress from ancient Greece, the one goddesses were often
depicted as wearing. One shoulder held a curtain of chiffon while the other was left bare, emphasizing her glowing skin. What would Yechao say if he saw her in this?

But Geraldine had no time to worry as Gabriel began applying makeup on her. "Thanks for the compliment, but don't fuss over me, please. I can do this by myself. Besides," here she swallowed the lump in her throat, "your date might be here any moment now and you haven't even fixed your hair."

Then the doorbell rang. Gabriel let out a short shriek. "He's here! Geraldine, would you mind letting him in while I fix myself up. You're already good to go. I promise I won't take long." Before Geraldine could protest, Gabriel had already pushed her out of her own room.

Geraldine felt her chest tighten. He was going to see her now, of all times, but she didn't think her heart could stand the pain. Still, she squared her shoulders and went down to open the door.

Yechao stood at her doorstep, looking so breathtakingly handsome in a black tux. He gave her a shy smile. "I've come to pick up my date."

"Gabriel's still upstairs, you'll have to wait--" Geraldine made a move to get her friend but she stopped when Yechao suddenly grabbed her wrist and held on to it firmly. With his free hand he handed her a corsage of one pure white orchid.

Geraldine looked confused. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was afraid he could hear. "What's going on?"

"I'm taking you to the prom, Geraldine," he replied.

"But I thought you and Gabriel--"

He shook his head. "She was just kind enough to help me set up this date. I didn't have the guts to ask you to your face because I was afraid you would reject me. Which is funny, because before you, I was never afraid of rejection at all. But Gabriel kept assuring me that it would work out in the end, but I guess I didn't believe her. I hope you're not mad that we went through this."

She could only stare at him in surprise at each word. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Of course I'm not mad."

Yechao took a step closer. "I really like you, Geraldine, and I think you like me too?" He turned the statement into a question, standing there like a shy little boy.

Geraldine closed the distance between them. "Yes, I guess I do," she murmured.

He took her into his arms. "Have I ever told you that you look exquisite?"

She smiled. Yes, she wanted to tell him. But this time, it was no longer a dream."

Excuse me, I think I'm going to go outside and puke.


At least there's a chiton in this.

I want to puke again

*vomits out remains of lunch*
Me: how come people nowadays all have such good graphics skills

Someone: because people have no lives and thus they spend their days in front of adobe photoshop?

Mmm. Good one.

For all his bluster about me changing my YACCS template, nw.t was only too happy to help out :)



i want you to know i'm very very very displeased at changing the template
what's wrong with the old one!
the new one just makes us look as pretentious and "arty" as the rest of the robots.

i still wish to register that i consider this a very personal attack from a friend. you do not take the magnitude of the offense seriously enough.

typical of the collective, happy, white-bread, artistically-pretentious, slappedtogether with lame photoshop andcollage skills kind of bloggery. and linking to it only propagates its heinous stupidity, shallowness, and general lameness.

we had an old, nice functional comments form
then, you young turks demanding change went and messed it all up
change is bad

your friends are proof that webdesign is a privilege of betters, not a right of the masses.

why do you think i've refused to do a webpage of my own all these years? because i know my place and what i have to say.]

Maybe I'll add a sidebar next. Oh, the iniquity!

Yeh Haoxiang has a blog.

Tuesday, November 12, 2002

New YACCS template.


Check it out.

Ripped, with compliments, from Blue Infusion, one of Zaixiang's interminable list of hostees.

Now I will go try to write a third GP essay in as many days. First the Death Penalty, then Immigration.

So what happens now?


I finally found out what sans serif actually means - that it's sans the serif. And I found out what a serif is.
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

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?]

Sunday, November 10, 2002

"The average blue whale produces over 400 gallons of sperm when it ejaculates, but only 10% of that actually makes it into his mate. So, 360 gallons are spilled into the ocean every time one unloads, and you wonder why the ocean is so salty... Beach anyone?"
Here's a good article on the real value of the female sex.

I still say the buffalo owner got dissed.

Quote of the day:

"I will never trust a squirrel again."
Friend from 40SAR on my unit:

"there's a kaffir coy rite? or smtg...
tt csm is a real asshole...
we were attached to him for ndp... every sentence he said is targetted at us.. "

NB: This is my current CSM :(


After crushing a 1/3 finished essay earlier today, finally got off my butt and did an essay on the Death Penalty. Not bad, if I say so myself.

Mmm I feel more confident. And less lazy and guilty ;)
Thanks for the comments, Gabby (wryly). In reciprocation, I'm posting something here again.
- Her Accused of the Slight Accent
To: Yaoi Girl

"a nice large movie screen wherein two men lie down one on top of another and they kiss?"

Erm. I don't remember this part. Ergo why I thought you were being too obsessive.

I love Mike's List:

Unfortunate Product Design

AudioBooksForFree.Com, a UK-based online MP3 audio book publisher, offers the AK-MP3 Jukebox, a $300, 20-gigabyte MP3 player built into a Kalashnikov automatic rifle ammunition magazine. You can carry it in the included camouflage ammo pack, or, if you happen to have a Kalashnikov, snap it into the rifle. Don't bother trying to take this player as carry-on next time you fly...


Buy a MIG 21: Classic Mach 2 Russian Jet Fighter
Someone suggests that, to not waste my time in bondage, I learn driving and take some courses, especially the technical sort.

I'm slightly more convinced about the merits of learning driving, hearing him tell it, but still... Bah, maybe during the battalion's lull.

Of course, there's the obligatory commentary on females. Trite, but still somewhat intriguing :)



My mouth's aflame.

More Malaysia Stories:

In Penang, a burger seller was irritated by his noisy housemate and threw a Molotov cocktail into the room. Malaysia Boleh!


[On Jamie Teo] I just find she is more, higher class of Ah Lian (a)

Imagine it's the ACJC age group, the Katong Convent look, and the Nee Soon girl's attitude to you. [Someone: Xia la. I'm getting married now. Stayout some more.]
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