A Sound Advice
Monday, February 27, 2006
Literally - in all sense of the phrase above. A Kit-Kat van just knocked into the rear end of my car yesterday.
There is nothing more for me to say.
This is simply crap. Because my car wasn't even moving when it happened. The driver just banged into it when reversing the goddamn mobile chocolate factory.
Three days in the repair workshop. I hate Kit Kat.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
I am Bolo Hamwich!
aka Khajo Bosin aka Francois Burlap Reindeer aka Crustius Maximus.
Try these and surprise yourself. If it comes out as 'Tammy NYP', please tell me.
Your Hobbit Name
Your Jedi Name
Your Red Indian Name
Your Mountain Bike Name
Haha!
Sowherethebloodyhellareyou
I'm intrigued by what I read in yesterday's papers. The header that I used is what the Australian Tourism Board is using as catchphrase to lure visitors Down Under.
I mean, in all good sense, it's really meant to poke a funny bone somewhere, but I think it ain't working.
Come on, you invite people to your country with pictures of acres and acres of fruit farms and various locations of oh-so-Heaven, and you use the word Hell?
Jeez.
Bloody : a very mild swear word with multiple meanings; adds emphasis to basically anything you want it to, most often put before words, or in the middle of them; also often means annoying; has absolutely NO effect when said by Americans.
Examples:
Its so bloody cold out side.
Bloody Stephanie, always getting in the way.
I couldnt see a bloody thing.
On the contrary, Singapore is extending it's seemingless endless visions of Paradise by netting MTV to commercialise events here as yearly highlights in the Tourist calendar. Yup. They're marketing the island in such a cool way that even the Merlion is wearing Oakleys now.
Wow.
So I was kinda inspired as well to contribute to help upped the cool-factor here, and what better way than to cosmetic-ised some of our national icons :
.
Aiya, anyway, names don't matter much what - people can use any methods ( deviant, unorthodox, gimmicks or otherwise ) to gain publicity. So the Aussie catchphrase may end up as being just a minor pert compared to the actual wonders of Perth.
Yesterday evening I indulged in one of man's ego trip on the silver screen.
No, I was not watching the real-life triumphs of Micheal Jackson's plastic surgeon.
It was a DVD of a James Bond film - On Her Majesty's Secret Service.
It was also the only show which starred the only actor to play his only Bond persona - George Lazenby.
Good ol' George and his British wit. Here's one clincher :
When hardheaded Countess Teresa snubbed Bond and left him in a jiffy, the Countess' father, Draco jibed in, "She likes you, I can see it".
To which Bond replied curtly: "You must give me the name of your oculist".
Haha.
Oh well, the usual stuff ensued - villain chased Bond, Bond chased villain(s), Bond make out with women, Bond left women, Bond fall in love... hold on a sec. Bond fell in love?
Apparently, the producers wanted a drama-mama human touch to the secret agent. So they hooked him up with a gal and got them married off at the end.
It's also a good sign that Bond is conducting safe sex from now on.
This is the only movie that Bond will ever get matrimonial bliss. And all 3 minutes of it to last. For his bride was gunned down by Blofeld, the inspiration for Dr Evil in the Austin Powers saga.
Not a big deal really, cosidering the fact that the Bond franchise might just be gunned down permanently again with the selection of a Daniel Craig to play 007 with the licence to kill.
Bond afficionados will now have the licence to shrill.
Take a look at all the Bonds so far.

Surely now we know who's the odd one out?
Quirky discovery : There was a mention of Bond's family motto : The World Is Not Enough - which eventually becomes a Brosnan vehicle some twenty years later.
Bittersweet moment - the last line of the movie goes like this ( Bond over dead wife's body ) :
"It's all right. It's quite all right, really. She's having a rest. We'll be going on soon. There's no hurry, you see. We have all the time in the world".
I'm shaken. But not stirred.
Friday, February 24, 2006
What's It Like For Them?
Impressionistic Music Videos
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
My brother cracked his Ipod Nano screen several weeks back. He sent it for repairs, but the nice folks at Wheelock Place gave him a new Nano instead.
Didn't think it could happen to me. But it did. While on an evening jog two weeks ago, my Ipod Nano screen cracked.
It wasn't because I placed it at the back pocket while I was running. Or when I was sitting down. The damn thing just cracked somewhere between East Coast Seafood Centre and East Coast Chalets.
.
5 days?
Does It Really Sound Like That?
To get ahead of Ebay in terms of online payment, Google has started testing it's own payment system called GBuy.
TalkingCock.com had, apparently, featured a similar hokkien-sounding term in a tongue-in-cheek column way back in November last year. They called it Goobye.
I remembered, way back during cadet times in OCS, I had a certain instructor who was fond of saying this moniker : 'n**** kubai'.
Was it all a premonition of greater things to come?
That LTA Kubai triggered Goobye to start initiating payment thru Gbuy?
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
I am even more appalled that, of every traffic inconveniences that I encountered, 99.9% of them are initiated, caused or maybe triggered by women drivers.
Lest I sound discriminatingly sexist, I have good female friends who drive their cars so 'peacefully' by the time I woke up it'd be the next day or I'll find myself in Vancouver.
The truth reared its ugly horn yesterday evening. While coming back home on the usually packed expressways, this particular Honda Stream in front of me suddenly jinxed its way dangerously into my path during a bend, instantaneously waking me up from my passive car-driving-daydreaming mode.
My civilised upbringing told me to keep it cool and not act in instant rage, like shouting expletives in German, in spite of the sudden jamming of the brakes. Relax. Chill.
Well, usually you'd expect a hand gesture ( not the middle finger one ) to indicate that the driver's sorry for probably causing an incident that might caused an accident.
She didn't do any of that. And I'm sure my car horn was working because I am half deaf now.
How did I know that 'she' was a 'she' and not a 'he'?
Puh-leese. I didn't do a gender check on the person ok. I overtook the moron like a seasoned drunk driver from Geylang and confirmed my Hulk-developing anger when I saw Maybelline's Hawaiian pink lipstick being applied on that cracked lips of that insensitive culprit.
( Well, it could be a pretty looking man with an affinity for lipsticks, but er, maybe not).
And I simmered.
Truth is, I had confirmed my greatest fears. That despite of all Nenek's stories of angels in disguise, various hantus and ghouls and apparitions, I have now encountered the entity called Bad Women Driver in unholy, bad-ass action.
I shrieked for a while, and after that cursed a lot.
I went home, and almost immediately began to seek enlightenment. Nirvana came two hours later.
Article : Bad women drivers: not a myth trumpeted by men, say scientists
Article : Bad driving 'linked to hormones'
Hah! The sub-header says it all!
"Spatial skills such as map reading and parking may be difficult for some women because they had too little testosterone in the womb."
I was thinking whether a woman's innate ability to pilot any machinery in a lame and outrageous way may have resulted from reading this book.

Hah! Too little testosterone! It sure meant that men has completely GREATER control of things now than women. Yes. Men + Testosterone = Greater Control + Dominance. CONTROL! DOMINANCE!
Whoops. Excuse me. Mak just forced me to wash the plates after dinner.
Monday, February 20, 2006
The Literati in Me
Am really trying to complete the following books - all three at once.

I'm not wasting my money, man. So I'm going to undergo partial labotomy and TRY to fathom the book.
The plot so far - Hippolyte Webb ( very the strange name - sekali the father's name is - yup - Worldwide Webb ) - a seafaring discoverer of lost continents ( much like a modern day Columbus ) found a piece of parchment that spoke of a new, undiscovered group of islands known as the Auroras. Problem is, the given longitudes and latitudes don't add up, so our protagonist must go through several obstacles ( don't they all? ) until he managed to get that much closer to his prize.
The interesting portion of the book, is of course, the art. Illustrations are much like Bantock-style, but slightly more formal. Bantock is more surreal.
Heck, if I wasn't so artistically inclined, I wouldn't have survived past the sleeve of the hardcover. The book's very the descriptive, and more languid in certain aspects, but I'm on page 34 now, so that speaks volumes ( Volumes of Hippolyte's Chronicles?!? - wouldn't want to even think about it ).
Alive - The Story of the Andes Survivor. Hmm...interesting back story catalyst.
Back during the Jurassic era when I was in junior college, my gang ( hmm..gang sounds so ... 'gangsterish.. ), ok, my clan of friends ( hmm..sounds much better ) and I sneaked out during lectures and went to watch this movie called Alive.
That was like 14 years ago. And I can still remember the way the plane smashed against the mountains and the passengers flung out from the cabins like crash test dummies.Very visual and graphic.
Of course, Lost followed the cue 14 years later, and changed the setting to a tropical island and to the tone of a possessed Hitchcock.
What irks me is that the survivors did not, for even a moment, realised that they were meant to die, because they believe that all odds, sheer mountain walls and otherwise are surmountable. Pretty poetic heroism. And it''s all true.
Even when they're eating their dead friends' flesh to survive the hunger.
I'm on page 114, by the way. By that page, the survivors had just cut the thighs of a friend for breakfast.
The last one - Love in the Time of Cholera - is my favourite.
Yes, for those of you movie trivia lovers (me as well), this book appeared as the sacred sign of destined lovers in the movie Serendipity.
Senor Garcia Marquez wove a intricate love story of the poor Florentino Ariza who succumbed to great passion for finding his true love in Fermina Daza, a Spanish immigrant. Set against a Carribean setting, the pair of doves whistled great ephipany of romance and undying passion through years of chain love letters. Cliche, I know, but this book's a classic. Not a typical Mills & Boons, mind you, but rather an intelligent and eclectic mix of humour, wit and love.
So what's so great about it? Oh nothing, apart from the fact that Florentino Ariza waited almost 50 years to prove his undying love for Fermina Daza, even when she married a rich and handsome young doctor, Juvenal Urbino ( yeah, cliche, cliche... )
Well, the path of true love never runs smooth, if you asked me.
The Winter Olympics are here again.
Actually, I have seen some people wearing winterwear during one of the those monsoon, rainy days we had at the start of the year. One person was wearing a snowcap and another, a thick jacket capable of surviving Arctic frostbite.
I would really like to think an umbrella just helps.
The man-in-the-street perspective of the Winter Olympics is this :
Wow. Those lycra / spandex costumes really hug tight, and I mean REALLY tight. Everyone looks like a superhero or Mr Incredible or something. And the colours - whoa. Damn bright and really glaring too. Everyone's in Fluorescent Land or Neon City.
And everyone's looking like clones to one another. Perfect physiology in action. NO traces of cellulite - any obscene fatty deposits at any rear ends are easily sniped from a distance. It seems everyone's a fit freak here. A perfect cut in ultra-tight costumes : Cellulites Not Noticeable (CNN). Slimming centres are destined to go bankrupt here.
Actually, the tight costumes kinda reminded me of Tron, a vintage Disney computer-aided film back in the 80's.

See the similarity? I thought Tron was a really cool movie back then - especially during the Lightcycle chase.
In the past 2 days of ST, it is reported that the police will impose a restriction on youths under 17 who hang out on the streets or void decks after 11pm. Parents will be notified with a letter.
Reasons given:
1. Crimes involving youths are on the rise.
2. There is a strong correlation between youths who hang out in groups late at night and crimes/fights. They usually ended up being target of provocation or are provocative themselves.
My stand?
Well, I can understand how sickening the numbers 16 and below can be for those in this group age. Heck, it might even be a taboo issue in the coming weeks, especially after 11 at night. The moral thread here is that as our society matures - culturally, socially and environmentally more intricate, there remains a nuance that maturity comes along with development.
Not true.
People will take sides on this issue; forums will become ablazed and gossips will desecrate the crux of the matter. But in the end, one's action's is justified by his worth and never the years of his life. In other words, age never correlates to maturity. You can be damn young, but you're probably more mature than the apek digging his nose while cursing over the missed 4D numbers.
On a lighter note, the Police might be making a lucrative business deal with these watches. Once they cornered up those loitering teens after the curfew hours, the Police Innovative Scheme Sales (PISS) Team pops up from behind void deck walls and starts their cajoling prowess to force these kanchong morons to surrender their cash for these made-in-Guam watches.
Some features of this watch :
1. This cool Spy Truth Detector Spy Watch features a lie detector (bio-feedback sensor). Teens can't get cocky anymore - The Police know where you've been.
Sgt Pol bin Ice : "So, where you all from?"
Cocky Kid : "Er... we just came back from the Getai Roadshow in Havelock Rd".
Sgt Pol bin Ice : "Don't bluff! Hello, your heartbeat is too slow ok, especially AFTER a Getai show!Station!". Darn.
2. World time (24 city clock) set to Actual Stipulated Signal (ASS) time from Police HQ. That means cocky teens can NEVER mess with the time. No more. Period. Die.
3. Message coder (3 different languages - in English, baby talk and pig latin) to remind you to run your ass home - synchronised to play every minute from 10 pm onwards.
4.Pre-fixed Super Loud 10.50 pm alarm. (wah lau! 10 minutes more to 11 o'clock. Wah piang eh! Better faster run!)
Requires one 3V Lithium battery, included. 6 years and above. Regular price: $19.99. Free Police keychain (while stocks last).
I remembered sharing with some of my friends about this particular teacher-friend of mine who frequented the Ministry of Sound since it's opening. At the bar counter, he sauntered to some of the woman execs and casually began to indulge in small-talk. When asked what his profession was, my friend casually remarked,
"Oh. I'm a teacher".
The women expressed silent gasps, and one of them motioned to him with rolling eyeballs.
"I thought teachers are supposed to be role models and not be seen around places like these?", she quipped, conforming to the ancient belief that all educators should live at mountaintops and indulge in yoga as therapy for mind-strengthening in the mornings. ( In actual fact, my friend thought that she was describing herself, the mountain tortoise ).
Casually, and placing his drink coolly back on the tabletop, he let go of this killer punchline - the mother of all 'teachers-also-have-a-life' statement :
"Oh. It's a dayjob".
Cool.
Anyway, here's two of my favourite World's Worst Pick-Up Lines.
Caution : Do not try this at MOS, or any other hip establishments, for that matter - your Singapore Idol chances will be jeopardised greatly.
1. Your body's name must be Visa, because it's everywhere I want to be.
2. Was your dad a farmer? Cause you sure have great melons.
Ok, I Couldn't Resist.
Heck, I could watch this rerun of Whose Line - guest-starring Richard Simmons - again and again.
Yup.
So brilliantly funny - It's been quoted 'the Funniest Episode Ever'.
Geez. I could watched ALL the episodes in one weekend and hoped not to get my jaws locked from the sheer hilarity of it all. It's impossible not to laugh.
I think I'm addicted to Wayne Brady. Haha.
Desperate Mondays
If there was ever a local version of the Desperate Housewives, here’s my two-cents of the potential cast :
Title : Desperate Shoppers ( aptly so - who's NOT buying the 40-50% Great Singapore Sale? Duh. And we ALL know how DESPERATE we can be ). Great potential tv hit for many seasons, simply because we have shopping seasons all year round.
Clueless divorcee : Susan Meyer - to be played by Zoe Tay ( who better to take on this leading role than the Queen of Caldecott Hill herself? She still won’t even have the slightest clue on what to do with the extra slimming pills and children’s formula milk from her endorsements ).
Uptight Perfectionist : Bree Van De Kamp - Kim Ng. Enuff said.
Superdad : Mr Lynette Scavo to be played by Suhaimi Yusoff. Because as Sgt Dollah, he can cut queue during the Great Singapore Sale and still can get away with ‘official police business’.
Cheating Wife : Hmm…difficult choice. Gabrielle Solis can be played by many TCS vixens, but my vote goes to Fiona Xie. Just don’t ask why. It’s just a seasonal choice for men nowadays.
Of Purples and Quails
Ix Shen doesn’t really know what to do with his money.
.
My point?
Heck. Who needs snazzy designs on cars when all you need is something simple and terribly unique so as to differentiate your automobile from the clone masses?
Haha. Self-amusement.
The Traffic Police will never miss these cars either if they run afoul of the law. Sure kena - confirmed + guaranteed. Right on target.
Transformer - More than Meets the Eye!
Speaking of target practice, Dick Cheney, the U.S Vice-President has been in the news lately.
That’s right.
It’s news if he’s on the news, because almost everyone that I know hardly even remember an evolution of such a species ( almost mythical, like the Merlion ), let alone remember the names of any of the Vice-Presidents.
.
Dick’s in the news because he shot his good attorney friend during a quail-hunting trip.
Yup. You can say that he ran a-fowl of the law.
Anyway, the butt of jokes began to pile on him from all corners of the U.S. I picked up this line from Bill Gates himself, and I thought it was really funny.
During a conference, Bill Gates quipped to his audience that “I’m really glad to be here” because “my other invitation was to go quail hunting with Dick Cheney”.
Haha.
What a Dick.
Dick has really need to hide himself in some obscure parts of this concrete zoo-society ( and obviously not the Bird Parks – the winged dichotomy of Evolution has already declared Armageddon on him ).
On the topic of hiding faces, there was an interesting article in the Sunday Times about people who looked in the mirror and think they don’t look good enough still.
Apparently, this ‘monster-in-the-mirror’ effect is so profound and real for some individuals that experts have coined it Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD), or Imagined Ugliness Syndrome (IUS).
Thank God most of us have the opposite polarity of this syndrome when we faced the mirror. It’s also called IUS – I’m Unquestionably Stylo ( males ) and I’m Undeniably Sexy ( women ).
Saturday, February 18, 2006

Postscript - Memories of Stong
Somehow the itch of climbing suddenly comes back to me. Reaching summits have always brought different highs. But nothing beats the feeling of being at the top of the world.
Tonite's a great moment after all. Met up with some really good frens and had a really, really good time - certain unforgettable quirks to quip about :
1. a great pick-up line : 'dengar-dengar you ada kucing?' - translated loosely : 'I heard you got a new pussy with you?'
2. That birth can be induced through the channelling of lightbeams, ala the imminent drop-from-the-sky-Mr-Bean effect. Preferable under a very big lightbulb. Someone needs serious Biology revision here.
3. Ameen is seriously in need of help : he's really a Brokeback Cowboy now - minus the spurs and the big rodeo hat. Yee-haw! Ride on me, Tonto!
4. That far-flung places like Sembawang really exists, and not a modern myth in urban Singapore. Guys, can you still find the North Star?
5. Who might have guessed that the screaming makcik on Suria happens to be my student's grandma, who also happens to be my grandma's cousin? Small world indeed. ( note : Grandmas of the World - please take note that you are expected to exercise physical control of yourself when appearing on national television and not provoke bodily actions that suggest self-rape in progress ).
6. That tiramisu contains alcohol? Duh.
7. That moments like these nostalgic delicacy are really precious, and should be savoured to the fullest. Preferably with ikan bakar. Power beb.
8. Medee is a mamak-helper-in-training of taking down orders. With the mamak's own pen and paper. Sheesh.
Good friends who remember one another are precious people that we should always hang on to. They are the few linelines that diverged out from your inner core, thereby making them a greater part of your own Life. They choose to remember and appreciate the moments, therefore give yourself a chance to be a part of their lives too, albeit in some small, miniscule effect. I did, and I made the right choice when I gave myself the chance.
So here's to Rafi, Medee, Taufik, Aisyah, Ameen, Haliem and Nis. Thanks for the moments. You guys are the greatest.
Friday, February 17, 2006
A New Whole Perspective Altogether
Got this line from TalkingCock.com, about an article to encourage the coming Elections to be held Idol-style.
“We know that the Men in White all can talk cock, but with a Minister Idol contest, we can also find out if they can sing song."
Really does give a good nudge-wink to use the 'talk-cock-sing-song' chant in a valid way. Haha.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Some Irks...
Just watched A Light Affair on Channel 5. I am beginning to think the women featured ( ahem ) are really a light headed affair to begin with. One was quipped about her dream date :
Mr Koh, my primary school scoutmaster was a quietly funny man, I remembered. During one of those holiday scout camps in school, I reminisced him telling us of the various positions Man adopted during 'osmoregulation' ie. peeing :
The first one was the Superman pose - hands on the hips, and majestically standing over the golden fountain cascading down to the bowels of the earth below.
Next was the Hands-on-the-Wall-Surrender pose - like some culprit caught in a burglary and made to stand with palms outstretched on the wall, waiting to be frisked. The men who adopted this pose are likely to be looking at their little friends for anxious male-bonding moments.
Up next is the Fireman. This type of species holds their members like a firehose, anxious to put out virtual fires with their rotational gyration, leaving the accident site in a triumphant blaze of glory.
Lastly is the Exhibitionist. He looks at the other people while peeing.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006




































