Where You Been All Weekend?

It's been a crazy weekend - partying all Saturday, sleeping all Sunday and working all Monday. I'll put something decent up soon; it's just that, all of a sudden, it hit me like a tonne of bricks - the world exists outside of my computer.

It's a crazy thought, I know; the world is full of real people, who know nothing of this blog, who I have to go and meet and, shock, horror, actually talk to and stuff, and some of them don't even really use the internet that often. Can you imagine that? It's absolutely dumbfounding, says I!

Alright, for now, though, I must be back to my people, papers and procrastinating. More nonsense later.

Today's Blog Babe:Penny in a nutshell; like most good men, my heart is somewhere down the road from my stomach; when I saw Penny's chai tow kway recipe, I was totally bowled over. I kind of like her blog, too. Penny is cool.

You Can't Beat the Real Thing (But Hey, You Can Try)

I really like chai tow kway. Chai tow kway is, without a doubt, one of the things I can eat almost all the time. Unfortunately, I live in Chicago. There is no such thing as chai tow kway here. If I wanted fried chicken, I could eat that. If I wanted deep dish pizza, I could eat that. If I wanted chai tow kway, though, I'd be a little screwed.

One of the things about chai tow kway is, as far as I'm concerned, it's really bloody hard to make at home. Maybe one of you have a great recipe or something, but making nice chai tow kway requires, well, first of all, the cake itself - you know, that mix of radish and rice flour - I haven't seen that around anywhere in Chicago. Then there's the radishes themselves, which add flavour to the mixture. Fresh prawns are also bloody hard to find here.

So the question is, what do you do when you have a sudden, inexplicable craving for chai tow kway at 4.30 am in the morning when you're thousands of miles away from the nearest hawker centre?

The answer is, you improvise.

Ok, actually the more common answer would probably be 'suck thumb', but hey, I'm a creative guy. Seeing as to how this is my third year in Chicago, I've long since learnt that I'm probably never going to get my favourite foods from back home the way I like them, but hey, you can always make something that's sort of in the same area, right? I've found that some times, when you can't substitute directly, you just have to make something that's inspired by a local dish, but tastes nothing like it at all. I was craving laksa once, and ended up making pasta with a curry-flavoured cream sauce. Surprisingly, it actually tasted pretty good, though, to be fair, it tasted absolutely nothing like laksa.

Thus, just as I headed to bed early early this morning, I made myself a Chicago-style, chai tow kway inspired dinner.



Naturally, I had to substitute all the ingredients I couldn't find, which were numerous. I ended up using egg-soaked bread instead of the whole normal cakes you get. I know, some of you are saying that this would probably taste like shit, but you are wrong. It tasted ok. I also had some canned 'chinese radish' that I had procured in chinatown. That served pretty well in the concoction. As for the shrimp, ah, well, when there's no shrimp, I suppose chicken will have to do, right? Right. In the end, I had a plate of this nonsense, and decided to eat it.



Ultimately, it tasted pretty decent, I figure, though, to be fair, nothing like chai tow kway. It was probably closer to roti john (which I actually enjoy). I ate it with thai chilli sauce and ketchup. It might not have been hawker centre standard, but man, it sure beat MacDonald's.

Today's Blog Babe: Japanese Barbie.

You Can Shove that Baton where the Sun Don't Shine

So, I finally get the notorious musical baton that's going around, a full week after Mr. Brown gets it. A week, in blogging time, might as well be ten billion years or something, because now the whole musical baton thing is as old as Michael Jackson's original face. As far as I'm concerned, I could do the whole musical baton meme, which would, in essence, be saying, 'look at me, I have nothing better to post, I'm taking the easy way out' or I could just give this whole thing a big fuck style 'fuck you' and tell the whole phenomenon to kiss my ass.

See, when adrian tagged me (and, like, eight other people or something), I figured, meh, he tagged a whole bunch of people, so I can just sit this one out and ignore it. Then one of my real life friends, the mysterious mr. elia d, goes and tags me as well. So now I can't ignore this whole thing. Motherfuck. The big question is, how did this meme get so fucking huge? How is it that everyone loves talking about their music / music collections so much? What the fuck does it say about you? I have no fucking clue.

In my opinion, it all boils down to the same thing. A digital dick measuring contest. You say you have 15 gigabytes of pirated digital music on your school computer? I have 35. Yes, that's right, 35 gigabytes of music - and that's only on ONE of my hard drives, and not counting my 20 gigabyte iAudio M3, or the music I have on some dusty hard drive in Singapore, or my dvd libraries of mp3s, which I have a whole bunch of, because my hard drive is only so big. I have a shitload of music. I thus win, because my digital musical dick is fucking huge. Hurrah. How many days of music is that? Many, many days; I tried to cue them all in winamp, but my winamp crashed. That's how much music I have. Kiss my ass.

You know, to be honest, I hate talking about music. While I like listening to GO!GO!7188 and stuff like that, I always feel like I'm being pretentious and deliberately obscure when I talk about music. I suppose I've been hanging out with hipsters for too long, and can't shake the habit. Sue me.

So, yeah, talking about music is a little too touchy for me. It's like trying to establish a sort of street cred - to show you're cool, to show your taste isn't shit, or just to establish some sort of individuality. I already did all that nonsense with my post on the flim meme on my livejournal. I'm a music snob. I can't help reading about what other people listen to and thinking, 'shit, that's crap music. what a dickhead'. I'm therefore not going to give anyone the opportunity to judge me. Besides, I'm not going to do a meme a whole week after it's hit the Singapore blogosphere - who the hell do you think I am? Next time someone wants to hit me with a meme, do it early, unless you're a blogebrity (c-list also can), in which case you can hit me any time, baby.

Finally, the whole business of passing batons - it's all about the politics, isn't it? For example, say some no-name, never-heard-of dude tries to get me to do a meme. There's probably no chance in hell I'm going to do it. Say mr brown requests your meme participation - now, that's almost guaranteed to get at least a reaction, right? To be honest, I feel slighted by the whole internet. Getting a meme late is like not being invited to that crappy party you weren't planning on going to - it's like the whole internet is saying to me, 'hey, you know what? You're not cool enough for the musical baton party. Fuck you, big fuck.' You know what internet? Here's my response:



Alright, that's all I have to say about the musical baton. Now I'm going to go play video games again.

Oh, almost forgot! Today's Blog Babe: jctang, from Shortphat K; apparently, she doesn't like being blog babed, so the link is taken down. I figure it wouldn't be fair to just put another blog babe up for half a day, so I'm going to leave this post like this. Ok.

So Yeah, I'm Back

So, at long last, I am (temporarily) done with (most of) my shit. Yes, ladies and gents, the big fuck is back. Amazingly enough, though, now that I'm back, I have no idea what to write.All of a sudden, now that I'm not pulling my hair out in stress, I can't think of anything even remotely interesting to say; it seems my life has, all of a sudden, become even more mundane than before.

Thoughts I had today:

1) The cat is in a bad mood. It scratched me today, and tried to bite me. I got real pissed off, and chased it round the house with a water gun. That was actually kind of fun. What happened to the good old days when you could kick a cat without fear of repercussions from your conscience (or, indeed, the SPCA)? This fucking pet needs to learn that humans are in charge. Skanky little bastard.

2) Sitting around and playing video games is awesome.

3) Grocery stores in Hyde Park close far, far, too early. Considering that I woke up at about 8.30, and the fucking store closed at 9, I had no way of buying food, and thus was forced to have cereal for dinner. Nothing says, 'I'm a miserable bastard' better than eating cereal for dinner. Not that I dislike cereal, but everyone knows that dinner is the most importanat meal of the day.

4) BLOGGER IS ACTING UP AGAIN. Today, for a heart-stopping couple of hours, my blog disappeared. I prepared a whole post on aliens and the CIA and shit like that, but then it appeared again. Also, I realized that the whole aliens are abducting my blog post would be kind of stupid if I didn't have a blog to put it up on. I suppose I would have published it on my livejournal or something. Whatever.

5) See, I told you my life was mundane.

I'm going to go and play some video games and hope I chance upon the meaning of life or something. For now, though, I'm going to try my best not to bore you.

Later.

Today's Blog Babe: Blinkymummy, courtesy of Kelvin

Settle for Less

How is it that I'm still so remarkably busy? Admittedly, I haven't worked as hard as I could have this weekend; nevertheless, I have a pile of shit on my plate, which I will (hopefully) find some way of finishing, before I eat shit and die and vomit blood all over. That would motherfucking suck.

So, yes, I'd like to take this time to say that I don't give a shit that Chelski won the league, and I don't give a shit that the Arsenal sputtered in Europe yet again. I don't even care that those Manchester Scums outplayed the boys from Highbury on Saturday - we still won the fucking cup. I've read a couple whiny 'oh, Arsenal played like shit' diatribes from some United fans, but hey, I'm not going to let that come between me and a healthy dose of schadenfreude. I heard Ronaldo cried like a little girl, and that just makes me smile. Alright, maybe it isn't as big a competition as it used to be, and maybe it doesn't really mean anything, but hey, at least we didn't end the season trophyless.

Sometimes, you just have to settle for less. To be honest things could be a whole lot worse.

Yeah.

Today's Blog Babe: Intoxication

Suck My Lightsaber, Bitches; Episode 3 Blows.

I know, I was supposed to be working. I am fucking irresponsible. On the other hand, though, my advisor is away till monday, so I now have the whole weekend to procrastinate write this mofo. BEFORE that, however, I obviously had to go and watch episode 3. I'll try my best to keep spoilers out of it, but if you want to know absolutely nothing, don't read this post.

First, I'll say this much - it's ok, lah. The effects are pretty cool from time to time, and, well, whatever. It's not that horrible a movie. Unfortunately, Natalie Portman looks even less chio in this one, Hayden Jerkoffsen is even more fucking annoying, and they're still trying to make Yoda look like a badass. I know he's a super powerful Jedi master, but they have to understand, two-feet muppets are NEVER badass. Ok, maybe there's, like, ONE scene where he's awesome, for like two seconds. But after that, he just made me giggle.

Also, the bad guys are not cool. I'm sure most of you know the general gist of the plot, right - young skywalker obviously becomes Vader, and if you don't know going into it that Palpatine is a bad guy, you obviously don't know enough Star Wars to justify your caring that these are spoilers. You know, everyone likes Darth Vader. He's a badass. He has a badass costume, even if it does occasionally make him look like a walking portapotty. So the question is, why is he such a fucking tool in the movie? You watch the movie and tell me he's not a tool. It's like, the dark lord of the Sith pulls all the oldest tricks in the book, and Mr. Strong-in-the-force is the biggest shit-for-brains in the galaxy. Apparently, being strong in the force makes you a fucking retard.

Evidence for this:

1) The Jedi council is a bunch of pig headed numbnuts (yes, even Mr. Mace Windu). you'd expect Jedi masters to be wise, and perhaps a little flexible, but they seriously spend the movie acting like five year olds with lightsabers. The ones who aren't rash, impulsive dumbasses are the most naive poopyheads. If their naivety was a spherical object, it would make the deathstar look like an Ewok's testicles. Obi-Wan is kind of cool, but he's still a credulous bastard.

2) The emperor can't come up with any better way of manipulating an impressionable young kid than through the use of the most basic, transparent, test-book style emotional blackmail. His acting skills suck, too, 'oooh, look at meeee, I'm a weak old man, who coincidentally looks like evil incarnate...saaaave me!' Considering the fucking kid falls for it, though, I suppose he's justified. Whatever.

3) Anakin Skywalker, allegedly the best jedi in the galaxy, is also the biggest dumbass this side of Coruscant. I still can't get over what a fucking douchebag this kid is.

4) The coolest character in the Star Wars universe is still Han Solo, and he ain't no jedi. Thank goodness, because then he'd be a fucking tightass. You don't need a lightsaber to be cool. Remember the Temple of Doom, where he shot that guy who had a sword? I know, that's a different series, but man, it was a cool movie. Harrison Ford is a badass.

5) Dark Lords come up with shitty names for themselves. Darth Sidious? Gee, who would you trust if it came down to it? A guy with a normal name, or a guy called Darth SIDIOUS? Does this not sound evil to you? Way to be subtle, dipshit. Kiss my ass. The best name, though, is Count DOOKU. Who the fuck calls himself Count DOOKU? That must be the most toot name in the galaxy. Fucking toot.

6) Yoda's grammar, suck it does. Talk normal can he not? Suck a dick, will he! You know, I wouldn't really give a shit about Yoda's grammar if he wasn't all zen and shit. He was pretty funny in the other episodes, which made him cool. You can't talk like your grade school teacher didn't teach you English, and then expect to have deep, cheem, meaning-of-life type lines. That's just retarded. Bah.

Finally, I figure that all 3 of the first trilogy have been missing the Han Solo character. Honestly, most of the characters in the old trilogy were kind of douche-y. Boba Fett is cool, I suppose, and so is, err, Darth Vader, I guess, but man, the guy you'd be cheering for was obviously the young Harrison Ford; he made the fucking movies. While Ewan MacGregor makes a real cool Obi-Wan, it doesn't make up for the fact that there isn't some wise-cracking graduate from the greatest dens of scum and villany in the universe who eventually turns good and carries the whole show. This is a damn shame, because now you have a bunch of tightasses posturing for an hour and a half, and, to be quite frank, that's downright shitty.

Then again, considering the quality of the lines, perhaps it's better they didn't have a character like that. The repartee between Anakin and Padme makes me want to bust out my own set of Jedi skills. First, I would force vomit all over them, then I would bust out force throw popcorn. Finally, if I hadn't paid good money to see the show, I would force walk out of the theater, because they are really fucking annoying. See my impressive jedi skills, and feel the force, motherfucker.

All in all, the effects are kind of good, and the fact that I was laughing at the bad lines made the movie kind of a fun, campy experience, but man, if you're looking to come out of the movie thinking, 'wow, what an awesome movie' you will be disappointed, because the franchise has definitely turned to the dark side, and not in a good way. Go watch Sin City instead, because man, that movie is fucking badass.

That is all.

Oh, if you want more plot-specific reasons why this movie sucked, go read Ray's review on Squarebrain. I think he got it pretty much right (and he's so considerate, too, changing the colour to protect you all from reading spoilers).

Ok, that's really all.

Today's Blog Babe: My Roommate; she put pictures up, and you know what? She's a chiobu.

It's All Goin' Down

Tonight - the big showdown - me vs. the BA project. Will I finish? Or will it defeat me? I MUST PERSEVERE!


Nahbeh, I will kill this bloody thing or die trying!

Scan Your HEAD (or ass)

As I was trying to do a bit more work, squeezing out one more page of this never-ending project (by never-ending, I of course mean, never-moving), I rested my head for a while on my desk, and my eyes came to rest on my scanner. You remember those times in your life when you were photocopying notes in the copy room, and suddenly had this compulsion to photocopy your face? Those were such good times, weren't they? It's awesome to photocopy your face! I always had an itching desire to photocopy my ass as well. If nothing else, when people asked you to photocopy something, you could give them a photocopy of your ass as a joke. I think it'd be a pretty funny joke. You may disagree, but that only shows how you are silly.

If you cannot relate to this because you've never xeroxed your face (or some random body part) you have truly lived in vain.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, I spent a good half an hour (which should have been spent working) scanning myself. And my ass. It's really fun. By 'really fun,' I of course mean, 'really, really, really, really fun'. Go try it! I'm serious! It's awesome!

Here are my favourite pics:


Look at the snazzy black and white! I look like a total rock star, according to me. Screw what you think.


See, I even made a colour one; don't they look artistlc? I am super artistic, ok!


Finally, i present you the best 'kiss my ass' picture ever made. do you know how hard it is to write on your own buttcheeks? It is very hard.

Blog Babe today: Barffie, because she seems cool.

Edit: I wrote this half falling asleep, so don't mind the shitty writing.

Counting, counting

Just so you know, I've stopped answering msn messages, locked up my playstation, and stopped reading other blogs. I am really writing! I'm so proud.

So, well, yeah - today I found my roommate's livejournal. I'm not going to link it in this post, but you can find the link on this page. When I was in secondary school, I used to steal this guy's shoes, run away with them, then hide one of his shoes somewhere. I'd leave cryptic clues all over the school, and make him go on a treasure hunt to find them. I know, I'm a bit of an asshole some times, but hey, treasure hunts are just so much fun, right? Something in me tells me that it's ok to let everyone read my roommate's private thoughts, as long as I don't put an active link to them in my writing. This makes it all a-ok. Don't contradict me.

Anyway, lately the roommate has been picking up on my passive aggression, and has asked me a couple times if I'm pissed off at her. Truth be told, I have a HUGE problem saying I'm pissed off at someone. I can say, 'you're an asshole' or 'I hate dirty dishes' but I can't say 'you know what, I'm upset with you.'

Saying I'm upset goes against a couple major codes of behaviour:

1) I should never be upset
2) Ok, wait, that's pretty much it.

You see, while I can be depressed, or anxious, or even (very occasionally) stressed, I am almost never upset with people. I can 'want to kick someone's ass in a righteous fury' but I can't be 'hurt' or 'disappointed'. I suppose, if push comes to shove, I could be 'pissed off' at someone, but then, when I'm 'pissed off' it tacitly implies 'I want to kick your ass'. Now, if I were to 'kick' my roommate's 'ass', that would make me an 'asshole who hits women'. So basically, what I'm trying to say is, for some strange reason, I can never tell my roommate I'm pissed off at her.

You know what, though? Some times, I think I really AM pissed off at her. Not in the 'holy fucking shit I want to kick your ass' way, but rather, in the 'why the fuck does she do that?' sort of way. You know something's going wrong when it's the little things that piss you off - when it bothers you that she smokes all over the apartment, when you start counting the number of times you've done the groceries compared to the number of times she has, when you notice that she's left the lights on for the ninth day running and silently curse under your breath. That's when you know things are going wrong.

Right now, I can tell you exactly how much I've spent on groceries since I decided not to charge her for them. $248. If you asked me last year how much I spent on groceries, I would have told you, 'I have no fucking clue, dude. A lot?' You know, usually you split groceries with your roommate; it's kind of cool if you go do them together. But you know what? That just somehow never happens. We're not in each other's lives nearly enough to arrange communal trips to the supermarket. The best thing we can hope for is the occasional dinner together. Besides, she eats expensive organic foods and freshly made pasta. I buy the bargain bin family packs of meat and assorted asian condiments. Somehow, things just don't mix. She points this out to me, too. When I ask her to pay, she tells me that she does groceries too. She can't carry as much, but it's all that expensive, premium stuff. So what's the point of trying to convince her that my shopping endeavours should be compensated? There isn't any. It just leaves me disgruntled, somehow. I barely even do the groceries any more. I hardly cook, either. I mean, she's offered to pay for 'what I think is fair,' but if I have to submit all my purchases to a fucking one woman board of inquiry, I might as well suck it all up. It's just that that's when I start counting. I can't help it.

The counting bleeds into everything - the number of times she plays her music a little too loud on saturday afternoons when I'm still asleep (4 times this quarter), the ratio of toilet rolls that I buy to the number that she does (I win, by virtue of cheap-ass family packs), the number of rowdy nights with my friends versus the number of rowdy nights with her friends (ok, maybe I have rowdier friends, but hey, winning eleven is noisy, ok? And her friends usually come over a lot later, too), the number of times her cat attacks my friends when they come over because she hasn't trained it to stop biting yet (5 - I think it likes me, though; I've trained it to respond to commands in chinese; did I mention this?); these are things I am strangely compelled to keep track of, even though I really hate doing it. It's just that every time these things annoy me, I instinctively go, 'AH, YOU SEE, ANOTHER TIME! SEE! SEE! ANOTHER TIME!' and my mental ticker goes click in my head.

I don't like to think of myself as petty. I like to be able to let the little things go. I suppose part of me is trying to add all these up, so that it becomes a big thing, so that I can legitimately complain. Ultimately though, even if all these little things annoy you - a big thing made up of little things is still just that - lots of little things, which are best forgotten.

So why can't I say any of this to her face? Well, I suppose the main reason is this - the ultimate resolution I'm looking for, isn't one where I pay less or she pays more; it isn't about the money. It's about making time to go to the grocery together, about planning lives that intersect, about being more than just peripherals. The thing is, she does more about this than I do; she drops by my room once in a while to check in, and we chat, and usually it's pretty ok. She occasionally asks me to join her friends for whatever, and I decline, just like she declines when I ask her to come out and play some winning eleven. I guess I've even been a little stand-offish of late. I've just been stressed, I tell her, and it's true. So once again, I'm unreasonable, right? I don't have any reason to be pissed if I'm being the asshole.

So why am I still counting?

Perhaps I will never know.

Today's Blog Babe: A Chronically Vulgar Girl. Have I featured her before? Her site name looks familiar. Aiyah, whatever, lah. Today's blog babe is Kelvin recommend, one. When Kelvin recommends a blog babe, I just post. The man's got clout with me, ok?

Writing About Me

Today, someone said that my blog wasn't very personal. Have I said before that I think my life is kind of boring? It really kind of is, you know. I mean, I usually wake up, sit around all day, play games, get on the internet, rue my lack of productivity, and then go out and get a little drunk. Yeah, that's pretty much all I do. Granted, from time to time, I put on a performance of some sort, but I'm sure nobody wants to hear about all the shows that I've been in and stuff like that, right? What silliness!

However, given that it's kind of cool to have a person behind the posts, I figure it's about time I do a bit of self introduction - you know, for the readers who don't know me at all.

First, my last name is not Schnorng, alright? My first name is not J either. My name, for those of you who want to know, is Joel. Joel Tan. It's not like it's been a goddamn secret; if you'd done a bit of clever clicking, you could have figured that out a damn bloody long time ago. I just don't like giving out my name on the internet, well, mainly because, why the fuck should I? A couple people have been asking, though, so I guess, to avoid annoying questions, I will tell you! Then the next time people ask my name on the internet, I will say, 'FUCK YOU! NEVER READ MY BLOG IS IT? STOP WASTING MY TIME.'

Man, I feel like I'm on a fucking game show, and I'm introducing myself.

Joel Tan, 23, male, Singaporean from Chicago! Pleased to meet you! Big money big money big money!

What else should I tell you about myself?

People often say I come across as being ridiculously smug. I'd say that, if you had a brain as horribly large as mine, you would probably be smug from time to time yourself. Some people speculate this is all overcompensation because of my relative lack of height. Naturally that is all bullshit. I once read this guy's blog, and he said that he thought I had a Napoleon complex. Meh, what the fuck does he know?

Other than this, I'm nothing at all like my first impression. You know those people who always act one way and aren't really like that at all? I suppose I'm sort of like that. Don't give me all your 'be true to yourself' crap, alright? I don't want to hear it. You're full of shit, and I have a perfectly good time being an asshole. Or at least pretending to be one.

My ambition in life is to make a lot of money without having to work for it. Please help me achieve this aim by giving me money. I will drink beer with you if you are cool. If you are paying, I will go eat dinner with you also. And drink beer. And go shopping. I love people who pay for me. They are my favourite people ever.

I'm sure you're tired of this game by now. If you still want to know more about me, though, ask me questions. Since I'm supposed to be writing my BA, I will do Q & A on my blog! Hurrah! This way I can spend less time writing posts. Everyone wins! To be honest, I feel like the quality of my rants has gone down a little, seeing as to how I'm so distracted. Ask me stupid questions; I can give stupid replies. If your questions don't beget fun answers, though, I will not reply them.

Hurrah!

Nah... Shortphat K give you all blog babe

Rant for Your Life!

So, I figure that, since I'm not really working at this moment per se, I might as well be blogging, right? It's been a while, and I feel almost as if I've been neglecting y'all. Don't take this to mean that I'm done with my hiatus, though. I'm hiatus-ing my hiatus, and then I will re-hiatus, ok? I still need to graduate, you know!



Anyway, it has come to my attention that a fair number of readers take a good number of things I say on this blog fairly seriously. This, quite frankly, is bloody alarming. Granted, occasionally I do say things that I am dead serious about. For example, when I say things like, 'I am awesome,' you know that I'm serious. My awesomeness is fucking well documented. I actually think I said something about issues of credulous fools in my drunken entry. For all the credulous bastards in the audience, however, I feel it's important to state the obvious a couple more times. Given that this is bigfuck.blogspot.com, and not fucking sesame street, however, I'm not going to do this in a straightforward manner; you can say I do this because I am a long-winded bastard. This is only partially true. The real reason why I do this, is because I'm a fucking clever long-winded bastard.

ALRIGHT. Now, down to business. how exactly do you tell when I mean something and when I don't? The best way to answer this question (discounting my preferred answer of, 'I'M ALWAYS DEAD SERIOUS, YOU DIPSHIT') is probably with another series of questions. In fact, let's make it a quiz! You know, I really love quizzes, or at least giving them. I hate people asking me stupid ass questions, regardless of whether I know the answer. I know I'm fucking smart, and I don't like having to prove it. However, it's always wonderful when I can point out to another human being what a dumb shit he is. This is awesome.

QUESTION ONE. You read on this blog an elaborate plan to kill everyone and poison the water table, or do something nasty like that. Do you a) laugh it off, b) assume columbine is going to happen all over again, and try and track me down, c) leave a concerned message counselling me or d) buy guns, so that you can take me down first?

Do you have your answer? Ok, let's analyze the options together! If you picked option a, you should stop giggling so damn much. What are you, a little girl? Fuck you! Real men guffaw, and drink beer. If you are actually a little girl, I suppose option a was a good choice. Hurrah!

Let's look at option b. You obviously have too much time on your hands, especially if you don't live in chicago. What the fuck are you trying to do? Have you been reading any of this shit at all? I'm TOO FUCKING LAZY to kill things, you dipshit. When you finally track me down, I'll probably be drunk, belligerent, and playing winning eleven. Seeing as to how I just got a new ps2 multitap, you'd be able to join me for a while, but if you're a lame asshole, I'm kicking you out of my house. Just so you know in advance.

Moving on, option c. I love these 'concerned message' people. HELLO! DO YOU THINK I GIVE A FLYING FUCK WHAT YOU SAY? The answer to this question, of course, starts with an 'f' and ends with an 'uckyou'. Some of my friends leave concerned messages, but at least they email me. I am thus more likely to respond. Also, the fact that I know them makes me slightly more likely to give a shit. Cool.

Finally, option d. What the fuck was option d again? I forget. Ah, fuck it. It was a stupid option anyway. If you picked it, you are a dipshit.

I know, you must be saying to yourself, 'wait a second, what was the right answer?'

Here's a clue. The right answer start's with 'f' and ends with 'uckyouifyouthinktheanswerisfuckyouagain'.

Yes, that's right, THERE IS NO REAL ANSWER.

You know what? There isn't even a second question! I wrote the fucking disclaimer on this site for a reason, you know!

Ok, we're done here for today. I have to get back to writing.

Today's Blog Babe: kamanzee; granted there aren't that many pictures here, and the ones there are aren't necessarily stunning, but man, I figured I'd give you guys something to read today. Some of the things this lady writes are really fantastic. By which I mean freaky. She's cool though; she likes my blog, you know!

EDIT: So, I was about to step out of my house, and I put on my jacket, because it's cold today. Since I haven't worn my jacket since last week, I only just realized that there was this paper bag in my pocket. Opening it, I found ... A PIECE OF BAKLAVA! Yes, it may be almost a week old, but hey, it still tastes good to me! I am suddenly in a much better mood. Just thought you should know.

The Continuing Saga of Post-Its from The Edge

Today's Blog Babe was brought to you by Mr. Luminosita, aka. Andy.

Post-Its from The Edge 2

Still on hiatus.



Kelvin has very generously found all of you a blog babe.

Post-Its from The Edge

I'm officially on hiatus. Just saying hi:

The Big Post o' Hate

Frustrated by my inability to do any work of any sort whatsoever, I shall rant at everything, because there are some things that just fucking need abuse once in a while. Today I was doing what I always do (i.e. reading blogs) and I came across a couple 'people I hate' entries. You know, the type of entry that's basically an extension of those friendster 'dislikes' columns. To be fair, the ones I read were significantly better than the normal 'dislikes: liarz, cheatz + flirtz, teehee' variety of nonsense that you see every day. Adrian spiced his up by saying how he would kill a bunch of dudes, which is usually pretty fun. Sancia... err ... I can't remember what she said, but I remember thinking that, when nice 'no-smoking, no-doping, saving-themselves-for-marriage' type girls like Sancia start writing about people who piss them off, it must be a sign that hating is coming back into fashion. So, off we go! Let the hatin' begin!


This picture makes me laugh for no reason. FUCK STUPID PICTURES

1) I hate attractive people. By which I mean attractive people who won't make out with me. Or attractive guys, because I am not a gayboy.

Damn those good looking people! Hot girls who make out with me are cool. All the rest of them, though, damnit! Every time I look at good looking people, I think, 'man, those people must think they're the shit, since they're so good looking. If I was better looking than them, I'd walk back and forth in front of them and think to myself, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! WHO'S ATTRACTIVE NOW??? LOOK AT MY ATTRACTIVENESS AND WEEP, FOR YOU ARE ONLY SORT OF ATTRACTIVE!!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!! but unfortunately I'm not that attractive, so I have to walk around in front of them and think to myself, HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! LOOK AT ME!!!!!! I'M NOT AS ATTRACTIVE AS YOU BUT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT!!!!! YOU'RE NOT COOL! I'M COOL!!!!!! I'M TOO COOL FOR SCHOOL!!!!!'

Fuck attractive people.

Literally, I suppose.

But don't let me know about it, or I will hate on you too.

2) I hate people who have real lives.

WHAT, IS THE INTERNET NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU, YOU ASSHAT? All these people poo-poo poor geeks, saying things like, 'oooh, lookie at me, I drink sooo much alcohol and go out and dance and shit, I'm so cool! You dorky people on the internet, you guys are losers!'

Well, you know what I say to those fuckers? I say, 'all your base are belong to me, asshat.'

They go, 'what you say you dork?'

Then I go, 'yeah, you missed that video, and it was rulest. I caught it though, because I'm real tight with the internet. Dumbass.'

Speaking of which, what's this whole deal with the popular maxim 'you can't blog if you don't have a real life'? That's the biggest load of crap I've heard, ever! Look at me. I sit at home all day, wear the same two singlets which I never change out of, and have my eyeballs glued to my computer. I spend so much time in front of my computer that when I turn off the lights, I'm still glowing like the Incredible Hulk. This is not because I am a dork. It's because I'm a badass. Fuck y'all if you contradict me. I am the rulest.


I no longer have this hat. FUCK THIS HAT.

3) I hate those bastards who think they're better than me.

I don't care if you think you're better than the whole world, or better than a certain gender; I don't care if you're arrogant as fuck. This is all cool with me. If you think you're better than me, though, you have another thing coming, fuckface. The other day I was walking home, and someone was walking real fast, and he walked faster than me. I immediately thought, 'fuck, who the fuck are you, asshole? You think you're so damn important, don't you? You're thinking, oooh lookie at me, I'm walking oh-so-fast because I'm so-fucking-important!'

Well, I walked faster than him and overtook him, and thought to myself, 'that's right, bitch.'

Guess what?

He OVERTOOK ME AGAIN!

What an asshat! I set an imaginary line, like, half a block down the street and pretended it was a race; we were neck and neck just about until the last second (because I was being nice, and didn't want to defeat him by TOO much) when I lunged forward and crossed the line. I flung up my hands and jumped up and down, like I had just won the 100 meter dash in the olympics, because I'd beaten the skanky little fucker to the finish line, which he didn't even know about, because he's such a clueless little shit. I swung my hands in the air and thought, 'MUAHAHAHAHHAA! YOU DIPSHIT! I JUST BEAT YOU! FUCKHEAD!!! HAHAHAHAHA!'

He just kept on walking though.

Fucker.

4) I hate people who hate.

Don't hate, hating sucks. You think you're such a hotshot hater? Well, I hate you. Your hating skills are worthless! All you are is a little bitch, going bitch bitch bitch, I'm so cool. FUCK YOU! You are just a bitch. Real haters go out and burn things down and kick ass. If you go and burn things down, and kick ass, guess what, I HATE YOU TOO. Laws are meant to be observed, dipshit. If you get such a kick out of breaking the law, why don't you cut off your dick and rape your own asshole, buttface? If you can't hate yourself, you're not fit to hate at all! Next time go out and do it properly! Fuckhead.

5) I hate myself.

Fuck! I hate myself! Fuck you, big fuck, and your fucking stupid entries! Why do you have to say fuck so much? Are you a fucking fucker? Is that the point? I don't know what the fuck you're talking about because all you say is fuck! FUCK! I mean, if you fucking said something in english sometimes, you might be understandable, but instead it's just fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck all day long! FUCK!

Fuck, fuck fuck! FUCK!

6) I hate fuck!

Fuck!

7) I hate shitty people.

Shitty people are really stinky. This makes them stinky fuckers. Fuck stinky fuckers.

8) I hate smokers.

All of you are going to DIE! Ok, so am I, but you are going to die SOONER! FUCKERS!

9) I hate non-smokers.

DON'T BE A LITTLE PUSSY! CIGGIES ARE COOL!

Oh, I hate ex-smokers, too - NOBODY LIKES A FUCKING QUITTER!

10) I hate the whole fucking world.

FUCK THE FUCKING WORLD! FUCK FUCK FUCK!

Ok, I'm done hating now. I'm going back to work.

Today's Blog Babe: Angel of Night; for this one, you must click on an external link to see all her pictures. But then, don't just look at pictures, hor! Go and read her blog, and see if you have what it takes to be her sex slave. I'm guessing probably not, since FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK! I HATE FUCK!

Sorry, I had a bit of residual hate left. I will stop now.

Oh yeah, by the way, now I'm REALLY going on a hiatus - the thing is, every time I have more than 20 comments, I feel an irresistable compulsion to write another entry. I know, I'm screwy. Hopefully this post was shit enough that nobody will say anything about it, and I can get back to writing my shit.

How to Make Your Blog Famous

As predicted, I cannot stay away. I have no self-control. Anyway, I thought of something I wanted to say, and realized it wouldn't take me very long to say it, so here it goes:

A while ago, Steve McbloodyDermott, who, incidentally, you might as well vote for in the upcoming freedom blog awards (support the home team, mah, even though he isn't really Singaporean) called the Singaporean blogosphere infantile, and that pissed me off, and I wrote a reply, and everyone else was pissed off, and there was a lot of neh-neh-ni-boo-boo-ing and name-calling for a while, and some pretending to be mature from me, when I really wanted to neh-neh-ni-boo-boo him, and say he was childish for calling me childish, and call him names like stinkyhead, because I am super mature.

Then, you know what, I realized that, while there may be some cool, intellectual (read: nahbehchaocheebye-boring) blogs like Shianux (no offence, man, your blog is cool; I'm just too stupid for it), it is actually kind of true that, when it comes down to it, we find silly faces funny. Remember the last big meme that hit us? Yes, that's right, the sexyblogger meme - I just realized that, when it comes down to it, this was all about stupid faces. Hell, even I submitted my (admittedly brilliant) collection of stupid faces.

Since then, I've noticed that almost every blog entry with stupid faces gets plugged faster than a leaky dyke in Holland. I remember Celly's entry on silly faces; that post really catapulted her to stardom when it was picked up by Cowboy Caleb and the mighty mr. b. Now, Celly is a silly face specialist. Her blog is rapidly gaining stock. If blogshares gave you money instead of that virtual shit I like to call 'wanky points,' I would have invested in Celly and made a goddamn fortune.

Next, we have another rising star in the making, miss JLLT. Now, she was posting pretty consistently good stuff, but then she started putting funny stuff on her face, and the next thing I know, she was tomorrow-ed. Just yesterday, she put up another silly face entry (which, I admit, is pretty damn funny) and she kena tomorrow-ed again. Two out of two is a pretty damn good success ratio, I think.

If you look at the mighty mr. b, it is quite true that he, also, enjoys making silly faces. Let's face it; other than xiaxue, no Singapore blogger can claim to be bigger than the brown. So, the question remains, are silly faces a surefire way to success? Will all of you find it damn funny, for example, if I take a silly face picture of myself? If so, I am more than happy to oblige. I am not bad at making silly faces, you know.

TADA! Here's my impression of Sadako! Funny or not?



Oh, wait, sorry, Sadako must be more scary, right? Redo, redo!



HOW? FUNNY OR NOT?

Ok, if my stupid poses don't get you, I always can stick crap on my face. This is almost guaranteed to get a laugh. Things you can stick on your face include:

1) Stationery



2) Post-its.



3) Glassware.



4) Socks and underwear



5) Aiyah, ANYTHING also can, lah! Be creative!



If you don't want to put things on your face, you can also DRAW on your face. Some people find this funny. I would do this, but the last time I drew on my face, everyone at school the next day was asking why I was a 'fucktard'. I don't want to have to explain that again, so I will pass.

Finally, if you are really lost, you can even photoshop your face.

Take your most hamsem face:



...and make it more hamsem.



Who knows? Maybe tomorrow, I will kena tomorrow-ed! Even if I don't, I will get donaq-ed. Failing that, I will AT LEAST be fuck-ed, because this is my own goddamn website, and I can plug whoever I want, even myself! So, what are you waiting for? All of you go make stupid faces and post now! You may be FAMOOSE the next day, and hey, even if you're not, I will plug you, for making silly faces. EVERYONE LIKES SILLY FACES! We are infantile! Neh-neh-ni-boo-boo, Mr. McD (eh, remember to vote for him, ah! Oh, and while you're at it, tell him the link to 'more details' in his sidebar is screwy, because his html reference is wrong)! We are all INFANTILES!

Oh, wait, maybe that's just me.


Nevermind, hor? We are all friends here!

Ok, now I must go back to writing. Byebye!

Today's Blog Babe: Keipopnation (now known as them chickens is ash and i'm lotion, though I like the old title better); Kei is hot. Kei is cool. Kei is from Chicago. Kei is Japanese. Kei is in Paris. Kei is international! Go see Kei now, and tell her I make a silly face at her, because maybe she'll think that's funny.

We Have a Winner!

Today's first order of business - I'd like to introduce the big fuck's new blog babe of the month, Evelyn Lee; Evelyn doesn't exactly need the publicity, seeing as to how she's already been blog-babed once, and Miyagi-ed two days in a row. Nevertheless, there are a couple things I like about her:

1) She makes me laugh. Evelyn Lee is absolutely bonkers, and it's awesome.

2) She plays the same old school games I used to play, and told me where to find them. I won't tell you; read her blog and find out.

3) She is drop-dead gorgeous. This one should be painfully obvious.

So, people, I give you our new blog babe of the month. Looking at her makes me want to load this page more often myself.

For the rest of you hots babes out there, if you want to be a blog babe of the month, we're still taking applications. Send me your sexy, sexy photographs, give me your blog links and don't be shy about it - I'm actually quite a friendly guy, you know.

Alright, next order of business:

Makanguru and Mandrake, saying that my 'you've been fucked' button is ugly, have combined powers to come up with another one; evelyn thinks it's very 'hentai-porn', but hey, I figure some people might like it; decide for yourself, and feel free to paste the code to your site if you want to celebrate getting fucked.



<a href="http://bigfuck.blogspot.com/"><img src="http://www.IMGSatellite.com/u/05/123/05/fucked0.gif"></a>

Finally, thanks for all your responses to yesterday's post. I suppose that I sort of misrepresented option 2 a little; while I suppose it's kind of cool that I've suddenly developed a 'reputation' and 'standards', I have to say that my scrupulous avoidance of blogging about my personal life isn't due to the fact that I'm a reclusive, private person, but rather, because I think a lot of my life is rather boring. I've always kind of wanted to write about what I did with my day, and stuff like that, but I figured everyone would be bored stiff. Seeing as to how some of you (most notably adrian, who's opinion I sort of respect) asked me to just blog whatever the fuck I felt like, I figure I'll ramble a little today, you guys can see if you like it, and then I'll decide whether to keep putting up these little daily tirades or actually take a break and drop below the radar for a while.

So, yeah, today I figure I was massively productive. Well, at least in comparison with the last couple days, where I got absolutely nothing done whatsoever. I spent a good part of the afternoon in my lab doing data entry, where I reduced a mountain of papers to a couple bytes on my thumb drive. Looking at all the numbers in my excel spreadsheet, and the large stack of papers, I thought to myself, 'hahahaha, fuck you, large bulky stack of papers! I have squeezed all the useful information from you and put you into my data file! I am such a badass!"

Yes, I know, I'm sometimes a geek. Fuck you.

After sleeping through today's lab meeting, I was off to a rehearsal for the filipino student association's cultural show. No, I am not flipino. Yes, I am in the show. If you must know, I am dancing. I'm doing a little dance called the subli, in which I have to do a little move called the coffee grinder. Now, some of you might find this move ridiculously easy. Actually, come to think of it, it's not that bad; I figure I can do it without looking like a total jackass. I have a little difficulty, however, looking cool on stage, mainly because my philosophy in dancing is, 'hey, I'm having a good time, fuck off.' Nonetheless, I felt that I did a reasonably good job in the rehearsal; you know, I didn't look TOTALLY like shit.

I feel that it's vitally important that I get good grades, write kickass blog entries every day, drink like a champ AND rock the dance floor. I also feel it's vitally important that I make it look easy. I guess I've been starting to believe my own hype; sometimes, I feel that I should be a little more than human, that I am superman, because I am the big fuck. I'm not allowed to suck. Sucking is for losers.

I come down, off the stage, and sit with my buddy, the kung-fu master. I never feel good about dancing on stage, and am fishing for a compliment.

"Yeah, I totally looked like a dumbass, didn't I?" I say.

"At least you know yourself, right?" he replies.

So, I guess I must have sucked, after all. Maybe I am a loser.

Then, I realize that, some days, I don't have to be superman.

I'm going to take a shower and go to bed. I've been mighty productive today, and damn it, I feel awesome.

Today's Blog Babe: Billabong Girl

Blogging Will Destroy My Life

As it stands, I have a shitload of work to do. My BA thesis should have been done ages ago, and yet, for some reason, I'm still procrastinating when I should be plugging away at it. I spend far too much time blogging, and the feedback I'm getting is steadily declining. As such, I've decided that I might as well call a hiatus to this circus. I've been (fairly) dedicated to providing quality posts so far, which means that, on top of the time I spend racking my brain to think of what I have to say, I ALSO have to go and photoshop stupid pictures, source for art on the internet, and do all sorts of other random shit. I figure I have a couple options:

1) Stop blogging for about two weeks and get my shit done.

2) Keep blogging, but break all the big fuck rules, and post shitty entries about my life, and where I went today (i.e. my goddamn room) and what I did today (sat on my ass and looked at stupid shit on the internet) and what I ate (cereal, because I'm so fucking lazy). I don't know; I'm actually beginning to get the feeling that people come to this site to look at hot babes anyway, and what I write is inconsequential. One day I'm going to post an entry that goes something along the lines of 'fuck fuck fuck, asshole shit-face cunty ho" and then post a babe, and see if I still get comments. I'm betting yes. So yeah, that's option 2.

3) Get a shadow writer - if anyone with a good command of english and a decent sense of humour wants to write this site for a while, you can email me. Send a sample or some shit. Oh, and also proof that you'll give this site back when I'm ready to make my triumphant return, or I will castrate you and stuff your genitalia down your throat.

Ok, all dedicated fans, please tell me which option you guys would prefer. I might not listen to your advice, but what the heck, at least I'll know you care. I know it's bitchy of me to complain about the fact that I got four comments when most people got none, but then, considering the amount of time I spend blogging, I'd kind of like it if I got more than four responses on this issue. Yeah.

Next, I want to say something about that stupid-ass picture of me you see on top.

bigfuck.blogspot.com is looking for a cover girl!!!

See, I'm planning to replace that with a picture of a cute girl. Yes, that's right, it's time to find bigfuck.blogspot.com a cover girl! All you ladies who don't normally post pictures in your blog, yet aspire to blog babe-dom, here's your chance! I will put YOUR picture up for a whole month (and dutifully link your blog in my sidebar) if you send me a picture which I like. Obviously, there can only be ONE cover girl at a time, so here's your chance! E-mail me a nice, fetching photo of yourself (preferably a nice, sharp one, no lousy web-cam shots, please) and I will take it from there (if I like what I see); obviously, previous blog babes wanting a bit more time in the spotlight will stand a fairly good chance; I just don't want to plaster someone's photo all over my site without their prior consent.

Finally, a couple of you have requested these buttons ... you know, the ones you put on your site when I link you. You can cut and paste and stick them on your site, if you'd like. Hurrah! If you guys like them, tell me, and I'll put them in my sidebar. Otherwise, whatever.

BIG VERSION (transparent, somemore! dun play play!):

<a href="http://bigfuck.blogspot.com/"><img src="http://www.IMGSatellite.com/u/05/122/04/fucked.gif"></a>

NOT SO BIG VERSION:

<a href="http://bigfuck.blogspot.com/"><img src="http://www.IMGSatellite.com/u/05/122/04/fucked.png"></a>

Ok, that's it for now. Let me know what you think, about everything. Alright? Comment, comment, comment!

Today's Blog Babe: Missy Claris; I especially like the fact that she reads my blog. That always makes girls cuter to me.

A Slump

As of last night's one man drinking binge, it's become official - I am in a slump.What, exactly, you might ask, constitutes a slump? It's kind of hard to explain a slump, so I figured I'd illustrate it. The first characteristic of a slump is antipathy. Consider the following:


original image here


original image here

Two out of the above four individuals exhibit evidence of being in a 'slump'. Can you guess which ones they are?

The other defining characteristic of a slump is extreme lethargy. As many of you know, I am quite a lazy person. When I am in a 'slump', however, this is gravely exacerbated, sort of like this:

original image here


original image here

Indeed, people who say things like this might be in what you could call a slump.

So yes, if I'm a little cranky, it's to be expected. If I haven't done my homework, well, I'll get round to it eventually. If my life seems to be spiralling dangerously out of control at the moment, well, whatever. Also, if my blog entries suck, you can get in the line to kiss my ass, because I can't really find it in myself to give a fuck, or to think of anything clever to say. I leave you to consider this picture:


original image here

Alright, that's it. I'm going to go play some video games and drink some beer already. Damn it all.

Today's Blog Babe: Jean Seductive; when I first saw this site, I was pretty freaked out by all the self-mutilation and satan worship comments this girl made, but her site is like a really bad accident where there's blood and gore spilled all over the road; you just can't look away.

Edit: Oh yes, Julie Fredrickson, who goes to the same school as me, asked me to plug her blog. I have checked out said blog, and I have decided that yes, I will plug it, if only because she writes nice things about me here. (Scroll to the bottom of the page).

No Idea

Ok. I wrote an entire entry on getting drunk, but then, I figure that, due to the fact that it isn't exactly quality writing, it will never be published. Instead, it will languish in my archives, where archives incidentally mean 'place that I will never ever check for ever and ever because I write so much shit that none of it really ultimately matters'. Anyway, here's the deal - I've had half a liter of Jim Beam; this means that I've had about 200ml of alcohol, right? Considering that Jim Beam is 80 proof, it is therefore 40% alcohol, right? Yes, that's right. I am clever!

When I get drunk, I like to swear a bit.

Here's a picture of how much whiskey I had when I got started:



You can see how much alcohol is in the bottle if you look hard enough. If you can't tell, well, fuck it.

Here's a picture of me 2 minutes ago:


looks like water parade, hor?

I was going to say more, and then I got real drunk and decided to go to sleep instead. Before I go, though:

1) a picture of a cricket (for Evelyn:



Incidentally, this cricket is taking over the world. I don't remember why. I am shitfaced.

2) a quote from Andy Tan: "People who cannot fucking drink, should not pretend to fucking drink alot"

I asked him for a quote, and this is what he gives me? Nahbeh... trying to say I cannot drink is it? Fuck!

Ok lah...I need to sleep. Very tired already.

Today's Blog Babe: Kim, courtesy of Kelvin

Oh, almost forgot:



Chio, hor?

Update: Shit man, did someone hit me on the head with a fucking brick or something? Fuck!