random stuff again..

The cruelest of rains are the rains that stop u frm doing what u want to do, and at the same time, u dont want them to stop.

A perfect example would be waking up in an ice cold room on Sunday, find its COLD as FUCK bcos the rain is pouring outside and the airconditioning's still on, and you're wrapped up like a silkworm in bed. And u look at the clock, and it says "1130am" and u think, OH FUCKING HELL, HOW TO PLAY TENNIS LIKE THIS??

And then u go back to sleep anyway, bcos the weather is awesome. Huh? Fuck the weather! I meanl, Fuck the Awesome Weather! Ok, watch as my brains explode.

The only clear thing i can actually remember abt yesterday is a vid that yj posted showing 2 girls squeezing a cyst off a guys' back.

So u can understand how bored i was.

Thank gawd, fate intervened.

(This usually means ur parents called.)

And yeah, we had dinner. And as magical as it was, EVERYONE was free again. Jasper was high as shit after Man-U beat Arsenal (haha zs). And Oliver had just stepped down as Block Head (yes, that is an actual rank). And I... I... I... couldnt... ... play... ... any... tennis.

Dan Ryan's Chicago Grill.

Meat and more meat.

And all in all, it was quite an awesome day. Except the "no tennis" part.

We are getting a NEW CAR! It's a Toyota Vios TRD.

Now wat on god's green earth does TRD stand for??

Dad: TOUR RALLY DESIGN.

Mom: "I'm not playing this game."

Me: THE REAL DEAL!!!!

Oliver: Torque Resistant Design.

Jasper: This Really Drives.

Oh, and a dog bit a waiter while we were eating. I guess SOMEBODY didnt want to be left out of the steak fest.

depressed accomplishments...

Perhaps we should all get depressed.

A life of depression has so much MEANING - "apparent" meaning.

One can sit under a tree, use absolutely no energy and that would be considered WORK in the terms of depression.

But im serious. Seriously. Serially.

Depression DOES seem to pay off. Indiana Jones hearthrob and current fav of my mom, Harrison Ford, suffers from depression. And i tot womanizing was supposed to be inspiringly happy. The talented lead singer of Nirvana Kurt Cobain was a brilliant songwriter and performer, until he peered down the wrong end of a shotgun. And who can forget the great Bootylicious herself, Beyonce Knowles?? Yeap. She's one depressed booty girl.

But depression doesnt just seem to breed careers in the entertainment. I mean they can ACT, so who's to say they aint just acting depressed??

My fav example would be a Japanese man named Hideko Anno. A struggling artist and writer for a small animation company in the middle of Tokyo is not one's idea of a good life. But what did he churn up instead.

My friends, Hideko Anno, is the founder of the multi-million-dollar franchise of Neon Genesis Evangelion - an iconic animation series. And yeah, u guessed it, all the characters died in the end. At least it seemed they did. Every time i watch it, it's a brain fuck.

For those who prefer jolly english examples, look no further than J.K. Rowling, who, suffering from depression, and lack of funds, wrote a series of books abt flying broomsticks, golden snitches, seekers and magical schools. Jeezuz... wat kinda MEDICATION was she on??? Or perhaps no "seeker" was going after her "golden snitch" for TOO long a time?

Let's not forget that depression can spark the trully remarkable.

Let me tell u a story abt a man born 3 months after his father died. Shit. He was born prematurely. Shit. Then his mother remarries a reverend, and he doesnt like it. (Cue Joker voice) Not. One. Bit. He threatens to burn down the house with them in it.

He was bullied in school, and it inspired him to become the top student. But of course, the bullying didnt stop. Hehe, nice try bro.

And JUST AFTER he got his degree with top scores and honors above honors or watever, the uni was closed down. Bcos the SARS was going around. *AHEM* Sorry, i mean the Great Plague. WTF rite? Fuckin sway.

And just as he was out and about, getting all UBER depressed abt how fucked up his life was, he sat down under a tree and wallowed in self-misery.

And even then, he could not be allowed some moment of peace in which he could inflict incalculable mental self-torture. Jeez mann, wat's a guy got to do get some peace and depression around here??? Y'know why?

The idiot was sitting under an apple tree.

And DAMN SUAY ah. One fucking apple fell. Hit him square on his depressed little head.

Issac Newton then went home and wrote abt how deep and tragic this one stupid falling apple. And he named that book... the Principia.

So there u have it. All of our life's work on mechanics and gravity is all the ranting of some goth depressed guy.

Read it and weep.

hail fridays

So yesterday sucked. As do most days. But then again, it's becoming more and more routine, to the degree that if a day sucks, then it's pretty cool.

Today is trully epic. I remember there's this Magic The Gathering card which, when played, returns all cards to the deck and u lose all cards in your hand and basically makes ALL that u've done up to that point COMPLETELY WORTHLESS. Im pretty sure u got to do a dance too... will confirm later.

Im sure the name of the card is something like EPIC UPHEAVAL OF MONUMENTAL FAILURE, so some other quaint title.

And just like the titular card above, today was just as such. Tomorrow (A FUCKING SATURDAY) is the presentation date. Just me and my blur Project Manager facing a panel of MBS clients, to present our progress and all. This progress is compiled from spreadsheets submitted to me frm my colleagues. Typically, its a breeze to prepare.

EXCEPT TODAY.

This morning, to my horror, i find that one of my colleagues has OVERHAULED the programme that SO PAINSTAKINGLY done. And incomplete summore.

Now i got to redo all my tabulations and formulas... It is 9am in the morning.

Nothing says Fuck U like a kick in the nuts on a Friday. I need to burn something now...

In other words, THIS is fucking funny. I will do this the next time i eat seafood.

the night shift cometh...

When we were kids, we would dare each other to venture into graveyards and shit, or haunted forests, or touch a haunted well, or watever. We believed in ghosts like crazy, but of course, they didnt exist.

Now.

Now i am convinced that they do.

1 week after installing a brand new control card in the dark ceiling of the MBS office at Mountbatten Square, it MYSTERIOUSLY started failing. No amount of praying, no cursing, or exorcism could do anything abt it.

I spent 7 hours there, troubleshooting some little shit bug problem bcos my main office didnt have anyone with at least HALF a brain to do this job. I SHOULDNT BE DOING THIS! My job is at the Sands resort - and that's it.

Fucking losers. I AM NOT GOING BACK THERE AGAIN.

taxis

When i was just a little boy
I asked the taxi
Can go faster?

Will it be jammed?
Will it be ex?
Here's wat he said to me

Kanina cb!
U fuck care so much for wat?
It's not like $2 is much!
Kanina cb!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But anyway, it really used to be that when i flagged a taxi, i would just be head-down, say where i wanted to go, pay the fare and get the hell away from there, like the driver was the friggin spawn of satan.

Things have obviously changed.

In fact, i think i've developed one of those faces - faces that make taxi drivers ask the most ridiculous questions, assume u're frm the most ridiculous of places and start ranting abt the sun, the moon, zeus' pimples and the number of hairs in Obama's nose.

I've met, and conversed with some of the WEIRDEST taxi drivers on the planet.

Once I stepped into a taxi, and the guy was SOOOOOOOO polite, asked how was my day and shit. Then out of the blue, he hands me a PAMPHLET... HOLY MOTHER OF GOD SHIT! (Literally!) The guy was actually a PASTOR! This guy drives taxis as a part time job and also, as he put it, "so that i can meet people and spread the word of God and God's love." I almost smashed the window open, screaming "HELP! Im being baptised against my will!!"

There was another time, when i was in a taxi and the guy was just going ON and ON abt how worthless his life was. His son's were poor, one of them cheated and had to flee the country, and how this taxi driver got beat up on his son's behalf, how his wife had a brain disease and was slowly wasting away and how the only thing he could do was drive a taxi to escape from his life. It was a Channel 8 drama serial condensed into 10min. BY THE WAY, the weeping willow driver took the LONG route and in the end i paid 75% more than usual, but i couldnt scold him could i? He would've probably committed suicide on the spot or something.

And of course, there are the government protestors. This one guy started by asking me if i had read the paper recently (which i dont). And then proceeded to tear apart the latest govt sanction abt service charge and other political crapshit, that i cant even remember. The trick is, of course, to AGREE fully with them, no matter how utterly crappy their takes on politics are. I think by the time i arrived at my destination, we were both screaming to make abortion free or something. Wacko head job.

The most dangerous experience i had was not too long ago actually, where a taxi driver turned behind to look at me and ask, "Are you local?" To which, i non-chalantly replied, "Yeah, local." This triggered an avalanche of racist and nationalistic comments that the world has never held witness to, save now. Dear gawd, i was riding a taxi driven by Hitler's reincarnation. If i had suddenly slipped out that i was malaysian, he would've lynched me and did a Troy on me, dragging my behind his taxi like Hector, except he's no Brad Pitt.

And of course, we can never discount the utterly and totally "THE OUTER LIMITS" kind of experience. I remember riding in a taxi on the way back to jb one night, and i was bleeding from the mouth. Bcos i had bitten my tongue trying not to laugh at the bugger's name. It was abt 4-5 words long and ended something like "Yahya Yudno Kennedy" or some utterly fucked up combination of syllables. I grew a sixpack holding back the laughter.

And then of course, when i got back from jb, and took a taxi back from the customs to Balestier, IT WAS THE SAME DRIVER AGAIN, Mr Yahya Yudno Kennedy. My insides instantly went into convulsion and i couldnt say where i wanted to go, except tear up and laugh like a mad hyena. Thankfully, Yahya Yudno Kennedy didnt mind. (Maybe he gets it a alot?)

Taxi drivers are mental cases. BEWARE THE TAXI PRIEST!!

minor details over a weekend...

Wat the hell. An emotional airport reunion turned sour by the useless pigs back at Amsterdam.

Saturday was a great day, or at least, it was SUPPOSED to be a great day. Woke up late at 9am. Didnt have to go to work, so that was awesome. Took my time to surf the net, have breakfast. Then mom came over at 1230pm. Went out for lunch, did some shopping and had a stopover at a bookshop. Everything was great.

Went to the airport. No jam. Great.

The belt that dad's flight was schedule to arrive at was right in front of the escalator as we got in. Great.

The flight arrived EARLIER than expected!! Great.

Then dad appeared quickly too. Great.

Nothing could've gone wrong now rite?

WRONG.

And after about 10min of waiting, it slowly dawned on us. Dad was here, but his luggage wasnt.

Apparently it was still touring Amsterdam. After almost 15min of checking with airlines and a few more calls, they realized that YEAP, it was back in Amsterdam. Fucking airport services couldnt work fast enough to get the luggage from one plane to the next, eventhough they were parked RIGHT NEXT TO EACH OTHER. Fucking retards.

Anyway, they would have the luggage delivered to JB by the next day, at a local hotel that would call us ASAP. Wateva.

Mom was SIAN beyond words by the time dad came out. Still, other than that, it was a great day. Just that one small detail.

Went back to jb just to spend the night and enjoy some bakuteh and icecream (not served together of course). And then sped on back to sg for some tennis.

Tennis update: Wrist is fine. Wrapping an additional overgrip and depolarizing the racquet with some strategic tape really helped. And i even noticed that my overhead smash was steadier with the larger grip. Perhaps a larger grip really helps for me. We'll see. Zs was suffering a hangover from a yesterday chalet, so no rival to test me. LK and HH were enuff though, and im feeling no pain watsoeva. Let next week by the final test.

Go Fed, Cincinnati is YOURS.

And welcome home dad. We missed you big time.

And welcome to Facebook mom. Here goes nothing.

shouldve taken a picture...

Half way thru after-tennis dinner with zs and we both realize that we're fucking broke. Forgot to cash money.

No prob. I ran out of the building and went to nearest POSB atm.

Passed through the old food court where zs and pk used to gourge themselves on mince meat noodles and other carnivorous delights.

2 TV screens were hanging overhead, both facing opposite directions.

On one screen, The National Day rally, by Lee Hsien Loong, and yes he was still talking. We boarded the 96 bus service from campus to clementi at around 8plus, and he was still talking. We got to the restaurant, ate and now this... ... and he's STILL talking. Singapore is *that* damn small. How much is there to talk abt.

Zs offers a quick summary '08-'09 = "We're all fucked."

On the other screen, Manchester United vs Birmingham. Score 0-0.

One side of the food court was flooded with pple, watching and nodding and commenting. The other was near empty.

GUESS WHICH SIDE.

a roaring good time

~It was an awesome day~. Really. If words could transmit feelings, you'd feel an ENORMOUS amount of sarcasm coming from your monitor. So much sarcasm, that, failing to wear explosion proof masks, the flesh would peel itself from your face, turn into balls, roll upwards over the hills and bury themselves at the foot of Mount Olympus.

Yes, that much.

~~~It was an awesome day, indeed~~~

It started in the morning, when i awoke peacefully to birds chirping, cars rumbling, buses honking, children crying and a silent handphone. SILENT??? HOLY MARY MOTHER OF GOD!!! What time is it????

It was 7:22am. I had sworn to wake up early and prep all my stuff for this morning's meeting, which was to be held at 9am SHARP.

Looks like there's no money to be saved here. Packed up as quickly as i could, heaved my tennis bag onto my shoulders and flagged a taxi to the office. I slept on the taxi, but awoke in time to save the dumb uncle frm making a wrong turn and landing me on the other side of the island.

I got into the office at 830am. SHARP. Had 30min to prepared for the meeting. I paid S$12 for that taxi ride.

~~~It was an Awesome Day~~~

So the meeting started at 9am. And i was out of breath already. Working at light speed for 30min, before a major meeting, and doing all of this on fucking saturday can leave u breathless. Breathless which utter RAGE.

So anyway, i was prepared. But what i wasnt prepared for, was that my BOSS, jolly good chap that he is, got his portion wrong. And we're supposed to be synchronised for this meeting.

And of course, the MBS pple at the meeting are like vultures. They leap at the first sign of blood. And from then on, it was 3 hrs of tearing us to shreds.

It's not professional to say "Oh it's my boss' fault, not me, nah nah nah nah nah...". I could only hang my head and ride it out. And OH, what a wave it was.

Remember those vids that u see of surfers, riding massive tidal waves, and massive as in, The Day After Tomorrow *THAT* kind of massive? Yeah like that, with 20foot LASER SHARKS underneath. Laser sharks are just like regular sharks. Only, they have... LASERS.

When it was all said and done, i felt like i had just been violated by a 30ft electrified pole wrapped with barbed wire, dipped in itching powder.

I was ready to throw up my breakfast, if they would've like to see what Cereal and Eggs look like when half digested.

And that concluded the Saturday Day at the office. And oh yesh, i've got homework to do on Sunday, for Monday.

~~~ It was an AwEsOmE dAy~~~

So i meet up with zs at queensway. He wanted to buy a shirt and all, and guess what, so did I. I had my eye on a red or white sleeveless shirt. Seeing as how the weather SUCKED these past few days, i tot a cooler outfit was in order. I buy the shirt, but seeing as how i prefer a slightly looser fit this time, I bought an XL size, 2 sizes larger than what i usually get.

As we headed down to the tennis court, i took a quick detour and tried on the sleeveless. It was HUGE. Like a fucking wedding ball dress. Really. If a gust of wind caught it, i would've swelled up like a puffer fish.

So we headed back to Queensway to get it changed for a different size. NO CAN DO. The shop said that THIS particular kind of apparel CANT BE CHANGED because it's supposed to be a compression type or something and they're afraid that i've stretched it.

I explained to them. "Look it's TOO BIG, I didnt stretch it at all. If it was TOO SMALL, then i'd understand, but this is different. I just bought this TODAY. Just tried it on for a few seconds and then took it off, no stretching wat so ever."

They wouldnt budge. Fuckers just couldnt understand what i was saying, even when they checked it and turned it around in their hands. The fabric was untouched. FUCKERS.

I spent S$50 on a sleeveless red wedding dress.

I swear. Im gg to sneak back in there and STEAL the shirt of correct size. I WILL STEAL IT. MARK MY WORDS.

~~~ It was an AWESOME DAY ~~~

And lastly, i sucked at tennis today. Everything was off. Either it was the stress from work, or the weather, or the fucking dress-shirt, or all three. I sucked today. I will not suck tomorrow.

But i did indeed, SUCK TODAY.

At least dinner was FINE. KFC always eases the soul.

~~~ IT WAS AN AWESOME DAY ~~~

Can you feel the sarcasm?

misleading dresses...

How noob am i?? I didnt know that u could actually import a blog into facebook. And all this time i saw blog posts that i had read being posted as notes on fb, i was always thinking, "That's retarded. The bloke actually bothered to type out the entire thing AGAIN on a note and post it on fb? WTF mann..."

Turns out i was the numbskull. But enough of numbskullishness (new word).

I was put into a precarious situation today (is that how u spell precarious?), on the MRT. As we all know, utterly bored and totally useless pple have been taking pictures of pple sitting on the labelled "Priority Seats" on the MRT and posting them on STOMP, seeking some sort of self-righteous retribution. These seats have now become HELPLESS PPLE SEATS. Only the trully helpless can use these - the old, the pregnant and the lame.

With all due respect, i can be pretty lame too. Does this mean everytime i say a lame joke, i get to use that seat?

Well, fuck it.

This is how it goes, u idiots, you can use those fucking seats as long as there's no old, pregnant or lame pple around. The seats are not ment to be empty and pple standing around, afraid to sit on them. That's stupid. Plain ol' stupid.

Well, on to my precarious situation.

I was sitting in said Priority Seat, on the way back home frm a frutitious session of tennis. When suddenly, i realize that there's a pregnant lady standing in front of me.

Or is she??

I have no idea.

It wouldve been easier if the lady was pregnant and maybe into a third trimester or something (im pretty sure i got the terms wrong, but i mean "heavily pregnant"). But this lady had a big tummy, big enuff to LOOK like she was pregnant, but still, it was small enuff for me to think that, "Nahz, she's just plain fat."

So im looking and wondering, "WTF should i do? Should i ASK her??"

God forbid i do that. If it turns out she's NOT pregnant... LOLz... it would be hilarious. But she was wearing one of those dresses. The ones that look like THIS, except with the skirt shorter.

On a side note, if any of u girls ever wear something like this, i will AUTOMATICALLY assume u are pregnant, and say that u are. Bcos it's retarded. If u're not pregnant, dont wear a fucking pregnancy dress, or even wear a dress REMOTELY resembling one. It will attract the wrong type of questions.

ANYWAY, i decided to stand up anyway, since my stop was 2 stations away. This is a trial and error method. Bcos if she was pregnant, she would probably say Thank You, and sit down. But if she wasnt, then... well... nothing.

Well, she said Thank You, then she sat down. And as she sat down, that huge protruding belly turned into 2 SPARE TYRES.

I dont think that happens when u're pregnant, not even twins will get u double spare tyres.

So... SHIT, she wasnt pregnant after all. Bloody hell.

Kena conned by that fat auntie. Hope her gut explodes while she's chowing down on her cha kway tiao.

long time coming...

The gathering on Saturday was great. Unbelieveably great. Pk and I were discussing this over dinner, that for the last god-knows-how-long monkey years, we've been trying to put this together. But each time we made calls, someone overseas la, someone cannot make it la... blah blah blah...

This time, everyone whom we called said YES. It was amazing.

I left singapore on Friday nite, 10pm, knowing fully well the task at hand. I had to get back to JB, braving the humongous traffic jams and smelly ind*ans... and hitch a ride on a cab (WITHOUT getting cheated) and get home without getting robbed, or mugged, or raped, or all 3.

Heaven intervened. I like to think that somewhere out there, an angel saw my tears of anguish and hatred, and was moved by my racism (the angel was probably racist too) and vanquished all cars and ind*ans frm the buses that night.

AMAZING.

And then, when i get to jb, im amazed to see that there's a new cabbie system. I have to BUY A TICKET, after telling the counter lady where i want to go, then i just hand the ticket to the cab that im taking. Simple as that.

Unfortunately the taxi driver was frm the Italian Job and race through midnight jb like a thief making a getaway. I was praying - pls dont let me die in a Proton Saga, of all places...

So i got back home. And it was empty. As expected, mom was up in KL for the weekend. So I was KING. KING OF THE HOUSE.

Anyway, nothing happened. A house all to urself is kinda creepy at times, bcos if u're home alone, and u hear a noise... WTF mann, im the only person here rite??? Im alone... RITE???

This a quick reminder to never watch horror shows on HBO when u're home alone.

Woke up on saturday 11am - feeling a million bucks.

Had breakfast, and cooked lunch. I was rusty. VERY rusty, almost burned the fish. Panfried black pepper fish fillet with brown/white rice.

Watched some tennis, played piano, did some housework and POOF!! it was 5pm.

Sze Wei came over early since she was in the neighbourhood. And we drove down to city square to pick up Shufan. OMFG Shufan??!?!!! Can u remember her??!?!

Anyway, we met up with the rest of the click at Modern Revelation... which is a fancy schmancy name for "Hot Pot and Grill restaurant".

Ate and talked, and caught up, and talked somemore and headed over to Siaowen's place... for more talking and card games and started accusing each other of being murderers and such...

Watched a movie - A hugely stereotypical and HIGHLY americanized movie... called G.I.Joe... real american hero, my ASS. Fucking boring. Eventhough it was none stop action, everything happened as i predicted. Retarded. Dont watch it.

The best part was at the end, when the Evil Master finally dons his mask and calls himself "COBRA COMMANDER", he's immediately surrounded and arrested, crying out, "This isnt over." LOLZ... Epic FAIL can?

But other than that, it was a great gathering. Nice to see many faces again. Hopefully, there will be more next time.

Sixeff still gg strong.

Song of the day is "Hoppipolla" by Sigur Ros... AGAIN...