The Big Fuck

100 Posts and the End of the World

2010-06-05T05:47:00.003-05:00

Ah, life in the capital is, predictably, just great. Just recovered from a nasty bout of what the doctor called "acute bronchitis" then later changed to "acute gastroenteritis", which for us laypeople translates into - "your chest is fucked up" then "your intestines are fucked up". Both are very much less fucked up now, thanks. The doctor's recommendation was something like, "get some rest. otherwise, it won't be life threatening, but it will be ...bad." In response, I took maybe half a day to roll around in bed before hauling myself back to the office out of some misguided sense of duty, after which I was thoroughly unproductive, half because, well, I was sick and half because I was pretty much feeling sorry for myself for being so sick. Then I got a little better, and I started thinking, "what's the point of all of this anyway?"

Recently had a visit from an old friend who, to phrase it most unpoetically, is unemployed. The japanese might say he is NEET - not in employment, education or training. He seems to be having a smashing time, which my colleagues pragmatically attribute to the fact that he has means. Good for him, I think to myself - why not take time off to do nothing when you can afford it? I remember once upon a time I told myself I would work six months a week and then take the money and goof off the other six months of the year. I wonder how many years ago I told myself I'd do that; I may have inadvertently wasted half of my life in the years in between! All that time I could have invested in cultivating a healthy state of leisure!

Then again, perhaps all this is idle talk - there are always those moments when you ask yourself - why am I where I am now? Is this what I wanted? Am I doing what I wanted to do? Living how I wanted to live? Surrounded with the people I wanted to be surrounded by? These questions are as persistent as the question of what you will eat today, what you will do tonight, where you will go tomorrow, and probably about as meaningful. Maybe I just need a drink.

Oh right, for those of you who followed this blog (the blogspot one), this is a hundred posts. Since 2005. I GUESS THAT CALLS FOR A CELEBRATION RIGHT?

Yeah, well, maybe tomorrow.

Gor Nee Liao

2010-06-03T20:56:00.002-05:00

The last entry on this blog reads August 2005. TWO THOUSAND FIVE, ok. Between now and then, woman can get preggers and have almost seven babies (ok lah maybe six). Since then I have gotten a job, moved house (twice), gotten in and out of trouble, changed my blog because people said, "eh, cannot write blog with bad word in the title, later nobody will read what you write, etc etc etc" then I got my own domain and decorated it and wrote nonsense on that for a while until I got too busy and now here I am, blogging back on this blogspot, on this bigfuck blog which I almost forgot about. See the banner, see the links on the side, all cui already. Seh kor liao. But what to do? Gor nee liao mah. Cow can grow from small small one to big big one then kill and let everyone makan in gor nee. Even if kena retained one year, still can start from sec one and then go until you take 'O' levels lor (or at least 'N' level lah hor).

As always, don't get your hopes up that I am back or some nonsense like that. As Jay Chou say, cowboy v busy. But it feels good to be here.

Rambo Tan is Born

2005-08-01T02:35:00.000-05:00

Alright, I've officially moved house. From now on, I'll be posting at http://www.rambotan.com. If you guys would be so kind as to update your links, feeds and whatnot, I'd be much obliged.

I know, right now it still looks a little like a newly renovated toilet. It's sort of like an apartment with only one couch and a mattress on the floor, but hey, it'll do for now, I figure. I'm trying to get the feeds up and running and all, and that'll take a bit of doing, I'm sure, but I figure I'm up to it.

Like I said, though, anyone who wants to help would be muchly appreci-ma-cated.

Later folks.

A Filler Post.

2005-07-29T03:00:00.000-05:00

I know this place has been quiet of late, but I've gotten a new domain registered and want to get it up and running before I let everyone in. Right now the new site is an ugly shade of greenish brown, and has ugly big fonts and no content, so I want to tidy up my shit before letting anyone in, if you catch my drift.

As soon as I get everything nice and sparkly though, I'll let you all know where the site is; hopefully that'll be by this weekend, but hey, I have to earn a living AND go out and get wasted from time to time, too, you know.

Thanks for bearing with me, y'all. You guys are the bestest.

Late, Late, Late!

2005-07-25T23:20:00.000-05:00

So, for all intents and purposes, you can say that I sort of have a job for the next couple of days. As usual, I am evasive and vague about the nature of said job, because, in reality, I am a fucking bum. If someone wants to give me money to do shit, please, by all means, give me a call. As long as it's fairly good money for fairly little work, I'd be happy to oblige. What to do? I am, at heart, a bum.

Anyway, going to work every morning involves, well, the same routine that everyone else has to go through - waking up at a semi-decent hour, putting on semi-decent clothes (no more wearing shorts and singlet all day long, even though I may be a kopitiam ah-pek in training, I now have to model the latest in fish-monger fashion in my free time... KANINAHIA), maybe even combing my hair (ok, actually no need to comb, since I cleverly cut it all off...SNIP! SNIP! SNIP! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!).

Today, the second day of going to work, I rolled out of bed at 10 and realized, 'fuck, I'm late as all fuck.'

The second day of work, and I'm already late as fuck.

How the hell am I ever going to make a decent living?

Eh it's Saturday You Know

2005-07-23T05:00:00.000-05:00

So, today I was chatting with Adrian, and we were comparing our geeky, geeky pasts - the number of message boards we've chatted on, the number of stupid-ass things we've done on the internet, the way we'd meet people of irc and whatnot, and I realized, man, this internet thing, it really sucks up your time. Blogging is kind of like hanging out on irc too long, except, for once, there are actually real people reading what I write, instead of saying, 'KNN SHUT UP PLS OR I WILL KICK AND BAN."

This, however, doesn't make it any better. There's a great sense of community on the internet, but that doesn't mean that it should take over the real world. I have to keep reminding myself of this, lest I end up like my first-year roommate, who was a mysterious french mack-daddy on the sims, but didn't do quite as well at frat parties.

I figure, therefore, that it's about time I got out and about on the town. Those of you who know me should give me a call. Don't spend your weekend in front of the internet - chatting on msn isn't really socializing, you know.

Peace.

Deleters are the Lowest Form of Scum

2005-07-21T05:20:00.000-05:00

what type of fucker could have deleted such a pretty pink page?

So now the news is all over. Wendy's blog kena hacked. Most of the blogging community has already said that this is not cool, but then, the magnitude of the un-coolness of this act is so mind-numbingly huge that I just have to say it again.

I don't care if you hate people. I don't care if you think they're assholes. I don't care if you're mortally offended by what they write; there are better ways at getting to someone than deleting their blog entries.

Once upon a time, there was a girl who wrote her life into a little book, then gave it to someone she was seeing. When things didn't work out, she wanted the life that she wrote back, but he'd thrown it away, so she decided that this time, she'd write her life on something she thought would last, something she thought nobody could throw away. Then one day some fucker decided to piss all over that just because he or she didn't like this girl. She might not be the nicest of girls all the time, and she might not be the most gracious, hell, she might even from time to time be a bit of a bitch, but that doesn't warrant someone trying to desecrate something so personal.

You have to imagine what this fucker was doing. He or she, after getting the password to this account, had to click on the posts one by one, click on the delete button, and then watch each post go down the drain. Three years of writing don't go down in a single click; there must have been a wealth of malice, spite, and relentlessness going into this. Whoever you are, I hope they catch you. I hope your nehnehs fall off and your eyeballs close and your cheeks bulge and your hair all drops off and your nose sinks in and hairs grow on it so you'll look like the arseface that you are. I hope people lock you up in a cage and point at you and laugh and throw pointy things at you, you fucking scum.

As for Wendy, I know you'll bounce back, because you're cool like that.

In other news, I'm thinking of setting up a new domain instead. However, I have great difficulty:

1) Finding a good hosting solution.
2) Figuring out whether wordpress or moveable type is better for this shit
3) Installing the bloody beast.

Any tech gurus who want to help me out will get beers on me. Seriously.

Big Fuck No More

2005-07-19T23:41:00.000-05:00

Ok, I'm retiring this blog name as of, well, today or tomorrow, and I'm currently in the process of setting up a new site. Someone at bloggers.sg told me, 'you know, I really like your site because it lets me say "fuck" without blushing.'

Unfortunately, for every day I don't change my blog title, my mother will pull my ear and not give me pocket money. Maybe if she very du lan, she will make me sleep in the longkang. I like being the big fuck, but I like being a parasite better. Anyone want to sponsor me? Yeah, that's what I thought, you cheapos. Thus, I have to make my blog URL mommy friendly. No bloody choice. URL only, hor. The content will stay the same.

You know, you faithful fans, you can always call me the big fuck. Just not in public. Or in front of my family. Or that girl I am trying to hit on. I will kung-fu kick you in the head. All those other times, though, just between us, yeah - call me whatever you like.

So, anyway, I decided that the blog name has to be understandable by those ang mohs (since I got lots of ang moh friends who read my blog and will forget how to get to it if the URL is some hokkien swear word), and also has to be clean. Clean one only then can, hor! Donch suggest dunno what biglanchiao.blogspot.com or digyourcheebyehole.blogspot.com because my mudder will smack me. Furthermore, I think even those digital life bodos will be scareded after they anyhow go and write cheebye word in the paper. Next time newspapers won't have cheebye one, I confirm plus guarantee.

I've narrowed down the possible alternative blog names, and, in typical singaporean fashion, booked them all. Here are my favourites:

1) king of brog (http://kingofbrog.blogspot.com):

YOU THINK YOUR BROG VELLY POWDERFUL HAR? NAHBEHCHEEBYE LIM PEH SI KING OF BROG LEH! AI SIO PAH MAI?

Good title, hor? My holy holy bro likes this one best.

2) we have a winner (http://wehaveawinner.blogspot.com):

I am a winner. You are a winner. WE HAVE A WINNER!

3) orsome brog (http://orsome.blogspot.com)

You know har, whatever brog I have hor, is better than awesome. It is ORSOME. Dunno whether ang moh can unnerstand singlish word like 'orsome', but I think this name also quite powderful.

4) The Long Ruler (http://longruler.blogspot.com)

This one I donch know lah. Like very shy like that leh, to say I got long ruler. If I make this as my blog name, next time I must always carry a pencil box around already otherwise people ask me show them my long ruler I will be paiseh and blush until like crab like that.

5) HELLO MOMMY (http://hellomommy.blogspot.com)

This one my mother sure approve one. Also quite funny, leh, donch you think?

6) I heart God (http://iheartgod.blogspot.com)

I am a holy boy ok. Donch play play. I heart God, because God is cool.

OK tell me which one you all like the best - try not to suggest new names already, unless you can find the URL and chope it, and it meets the guidelines, hor. OK? Steady or not?

FANKS HOR!

Moving On...

2005-07-18T23:13:00.000-05:00

scan courtesy of scanning master lancerlord

So, finally, the newspapers managed to put my stupid picture in the stupid papers. Am I supposed to jump up and down and shout hooray now? People have all been congratulating me, saying now I very the famous, saying wah, see, now they recognize you liao!

LANCHIAO!

Not that I want to be ungrateful or anything, but people put one tiny tiny picture only, then my URL also put so many starstarstar, how the fuck are people supposed to come find me? Most people I bet tried to surf to bigf***.blogspot.com, and really put in the starstarstar. I wanted to go register that domain, hor, but then, kanina blogger cannot put starstarstar one. Other people kena newspaper, their hit counter jump jump jump like underneath people put pogo stick like that, my one move like a kanina tortoise like that. Fuck.

Aiyah, no choice lah, no choice. It was nice of them to put my picture up regardless, I suppose. All this just confirms what I've been thinking for a while - it's time to move URL already. My mother and father have been telling me all week that they want me to change my blog address, and now that we're living under the same roof, I don't have much of a choice.

So, all you ladies and gents, anyone have any good suggestions? I need to move somewhere easy to find, yeah? Somewhere eye-catching, but all the same, it has to be uniquely me. Also, despite the fact that I swear swear here and there, at least the URL must be clean, ok?

I try a lot already, but all kena chope leh! Quick quick give me suggestions.

FANKS HOR!

Edit: ok, actuarry, hor, my hit counter IS jumping a bit. Looks like people know how to fill in starstarstar after all!

I'm Not a Geek; I'm a VERY POPULAR BLOGGER, OK!

2005-07-17T09:15:00.000-05:00

So yesterday was the big blogger meetup. It finally had to happen, and I obviously had to go. I mean, I've been reading blogs, chatting with bloggers online, talking about blogging and, naturally, blogging blogging blogging for the last couple of months, so it would have been totally crazy not to have gone, right? Furthermore, there were free drinks. Given that I am a card-carrying cheapo, I could not stay away. My oh-so-happening friends have been giving me ridiculous amounts of stick for being a blogger, so I didn't really advertise the fact that I was headed to the convention; instead I rolled in oh-so-fashionably late with evie and sandra, sneaked in to the back of the convention, and immediately began schmoozing.

There were a bunch of people talking in the front, but that wasn't what I was there for. I mean, while the sunday times was a little harsh, it wasn't exactly very the exciting. There was no juggling, the bloggers never tell jokes (even Kenny Sia never tell jokes leh! so boring, hor!), no chiobus showed us their nehnehs (until later in the VIP room lah), so it wasn't all that fun. Open mic was a bad idea, lah - everyone who comes and talks will surely be DAMN BORING, can? Interesting people where got so buay hiao bai go and walk to the front and talk cock? Take me, for example. I am damn interesting, ok. Just ask all those people who kept giggling when I was talking cock - I am a damn excellent public speaker, can? Either that or my fly was down the entire time and I didn't notice. Either way, the fact remains - I spoke, and people were entertained. WHY ORGANIZER NEBER ASK TO SPEAK HAR? I NOT FRAMOOSE ENOUGH MEH? HAR???? HARR??? I BELLY HURT LEH!

I would write more about what happened in the convention, but there have been tonnes of reports already. I like blinkymummy's and adrian's the best, mainly because they mention how cool I am (just so you know, I AM DAMN COOL OK! WHY NOBODY ELSE SAY HOW COOL I AM? I feel so slighted.)

The press was there, too, but, as most of you know, all they could say was how boring it was. Again, they interviewed the wrong person. I am awesome for sound bites. Furthermore, I am a semi-por-pu-lar blogger, am I not? People have told me, of course the press won't feature my blog, because of the naughty URL. I say, aiyah, use blanks lah! My friends reply; some people very stupid, cannot fill in blanks one. But you see, if you tell people to fill in blanks, they cannot be THAT stupid, right? Reporters, for example, could quote me as follows:

Joel Tan, who operates an oh-so-naughtily named blog at bigf__k.blogspot.com (must fill in blank hor), said "KNN CHAOCHEEBYE HOW COME NEWSPAPRER EBERY TIME NEBER INTERBIEW ME HAR? I NOT FRAMOOSE HAR?"

You see, events like this, essentially, are the only times bloggers like me get to feel special for being bloggers, I figure. When I'm not blogging, I'm busy getting flak for blogging from my friends, who tell me what a nerd I am. That's why I go to these places, where I can get plastered with other bloggers, where I can introduce myself as Joel, and have people say they like my blog, where I can be the biggest drinker there, where I can get into the VIP room and see nehnehs; that's what these things are there for, right?

After the event, I found my way to china black, where I could barely get to the front of the line by mingling with a bunch of random ah bengs; I'm good at mingling with ah bengs like that, you see. Anyway, I asked them if they read blogs and all, since I'd just come from the conference and was still thinking about blogs.

"Simi brog? Porno si boh?"

Ah well, at least for an afternoon, I got to feel sort of special.

I am a Frickin' Champion

2005-07-14T23:18:00.000-05:00

Anyone who knows me knows that I lose things all the time; peoples' numbers, money, common sense - I'm known to misplace all this shit from time to time, mainly because I'm a bit of an idiot sometimes. Last night, though, I broke a personal record by managing to misplace my cell phone approximately 30 hours after I got it. Yes, that's right, if I've given you that number, you can stop calling it; even if it did ring, you wouldn't be calling me. Instead, you'd be calling either:

a) Some godforsaken drawer which, at the moment seemed a very clever place to put my phone, but for obvious reasons, turned out to be a not so clever place to lose my phone.

b) Some unknown cab driver, or some cab's back seat, or the handbag of some whore who fortuitously picked up my phone, and very graciously decided NOT to return it.

c) Mutant cats who ate my goddamn phone as I dropped it somewhere

d) A strange hybrid of all of the above.

Damn it, cell phones are like little fish, trying to escape from my pockets all the time. It doesn't help that I hate jeans. I always wear loose pants, which my devious phones wriggle out of. Also, I blame alcohol. It's a well known rule that cheap drinks contribute directly to losing cell phones. After spending most of the morning searching for it (I went through my phone operating SOP - called my phone, which was off, went through my pants, which smelled of smoke, but had no phone, tried to retrace my steps after coming home, most of which i couldn't remember), I have finally concluded that the stupid thing is lost.

Fucking cheebye. At this rate, I should start welding cell phones to my head.

Toronto Once More

2005-07-13T04:04:00.000-05:00

The last couple days have been pretty hectic, but, like I said yesterday, I'm finally back in Singapore. Toronto was awesome - my friend and I explored the Toronto Islands south of the city, and ended up hitting the beaches. As we walked, we suddenly saw signs for a 'clothing optional beach', and decided we had to check it out - you know, research purposes and all. We walked down the beach, then we walked some more, then we walked some more, but there was no 'clothing optional beach' in sight. Eventually, about a thousand years later or something like that, we finally found the beach, and discovered it was filled with wrinkly old men. It was not a pretty sight.

Following this, we discovered the value of signs. This sign probably means 'danger, slippery'.

Man, that grass sure was slippery.

After this, we were very tired. Given that we are two Asians who were in a foreign city, we had to take pictures, right? We were super tired, though. Thus, we ended up taking lots of pictures of the sky. From benches. See, how artistic!

We took many, many pictures like this.

That's pretty much all we did in Toronto. I mean, there was other stuff, like walking, and eating, and seeing stuff, but hey, you can refer to my last post about Toronto if you want to know more about the city.

Before I sign off for the day, though, Jess pseudo-requested creepy pics. Seeing as to how she was not in Toronto and also gave me her address, I had to go take pictures of her house. Creeepy.

Yes, she lives in a restaurant. I suspect she's secretly asian.

Tomorrow I'll tell you all about Istanbul; as for today, I've realized I'm a lot more idle in this country. I brought a shitload of dirty laundry home, then I realized that I wouldn't have to wash it - we pay the maid to do that stuff. I went to Adam Road to eat Prawn Noodles, and was going to clear my tray, but then I realized that they pay the sanitation engineers to do that. To stop myself from going crazy, I decided I would cook dinner, so I'm off to do just that. Later, y'all.

Home, home, home

2005-07-12T04:29:00.000-05:00

I'm writing this from Changi's free internet terminals.

I'm back, baby. At long last, I'm back.

Change of Plans

2005-07-06T12:18:00.000-05:00

So, seeing as to how there's a hurricane in New Orleans, I'm headed to Toronto. Again. Not that any of this matters, of course. Nonetheless, if anyone is going to be in the vicinity, give a call, yeah?

Sweet.

Road Trippin'

2005-07-06T02:04:00.000-05:00

So tomorrow, I set off for the south, specifically N'awlins. It'll be a long drive down, but given my awesome driving skills, I will probably be able to run over a couple pedestrians on the way down. Or perhaps drive into a truck. Considering how trashed I am now, anything is possible.

Seeing as to how my road trippin' buddy will be bringing his laptop, I may just be able to write an entry or two to check in from the road. I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you, though.

Once again, I'll be back in the 'pore on the 12th.

Check you all later!

J.

The Incredible Disappearing Act

2005-07-04T02:08:00.000-05:00

So, in case you all are wondering, I haven't quit this yet. I'm just, well, in hibernation. I'm planning a grand trip of the south, and must not be disturbed from my preparations. Granted, this might include some binge drinking, perhaps a cigar here and there, and copious amounts of video game time, but hey, it's all in the name of progress, if you know what I mean. Naturally, by 'progress,' I don't really mean any sort of productivity.

I'll be back in Singapore somewhere around the 12th of July, and hope to blog my head off then. Until then, however, I'm going to focus on my full-time occupation, drinking. And driving. Though not in that order; I'm not crazy yet, you know.

Alright folks. Sorry for being such an errant blogger, but I have responsibilities to my last days of life away from my parents, you know.

Regards,
J.

When Household Appliances Rebel

2005-06-28T03:00:00.000-05:00

There are some days when the little things can really get to you. Today, one of those things is my box fan. I have a box fan sitting on the edge of my desk; I keep it blowing at me so that I don't melt. Unfortunately, due to some totally idiotic construction, when the fan is at full speed (which it is always on, to prevent me from turning into a slimy pile of mush), it has a tendency to move around. I didn't realize this until the fan had lept out of my bedroom window for the second time today; previously, I just thought it was a little depressed. Now that I know it's being belligerent, I'm tempted to beat it with a metal stick until it learns to be obedient.

I tried weighing the thing down with my desk lamp, stacks of cds, as well as potted plants, but the damn fan is just too strong for all of them. It totally has a mind of its own, and hurls itself out of my window every five minutes or so. Right now, I've put it on its lowest setting, and I can feel the sweat coming already.

I think I'm going to need an exorcist or something, because this fucking box fan is totally possessed by the devil.

Damn it, appliances in this house have to learn once and for all that I'm the boss.

Now where the fuck did I put my metal stick?

Today's Blog Babe: L X Y; now with gallery section as well, since I know there are some of you who don't exactly read these sites very carefully. Sort of like me; I mean, I used to read all these blog babe sites, but then, after a while, I realized that I'm really bad at reading.

This Entry Totally Blows

2005-06-27T05:28:00.000-05:00

I'm stuck in Chicago until the middle of July with nothing to do. This sucks. I was writing a long, in-depth post about exactly why I am stuck here, waiting for a plane, but then I realized that writing about your travel agent woes is kind of lame, especially when you can't make it very funny. Seeing as to how I'm stranded in the windy city with most my friends gone for the summer, I've resorted to trying to drink my reserve of alcohol while sticking tape to my face; while I'll be one of the first to say how much I love sticking tape to my face, I have to say that it probably won't entertain me indefinitely.

To make things worse, I have absolutely no idea what to write about. Given the fact that I've been, in general, an absolutely craptastic blogger recently, I figure I owe it to my faithful readers to pull out the goods (no, I don't mean my genitalia, you fucking pervert). I'm therefore stuck. It's times like this when you wish you had autoblogger handy.Unfortunately, I'm not sure such a program really exists, so that isn't exactly an option.

I suppose I could do one of those nice reciprocity posts; you know, the ones where you dish out a couple links, spread the traffic around a bit, say how some blogs other than your own are cool and whatnot. I've been reading minishorts a fair bit, and I must say that she's pretty much a mistress of dishing out traffic. I'm still catching up on all the blog entries I missed while on holiday, but I did notice that she finally got round to handing me a role in one of her stories, which was nice of her, even if she did make hurtful comments about my gender, and also call me 'fugly'. Eh, whatever; being the traffic whore that I am, I am obliged to say how cool she is for writing about me.

I figure, though, that I'm bad at dishing out traffic, mainly because I like keeping all the traffic here. What do you mean, you like to read other blogs? You infidels! Other blogs suck, you know.

Other than that, I suppose I could point out a couple of my classic works. Unfortunately, I've decided, upon reading my past entries, that this blog sucks as well. Yes, that's right, my standards are so high that even I can't meet them. This doesn't mean that I have unrealistically high standards. Rather, it means that the whole world sucks. I've been on the internet for about 3 hours straight now, and I can tell you, it sucks tonight. I don't know why, it just does.

Having listed the two options I rejected, I come to the last option - whinging about how I have nothing to write. Given that I spend all of my time whinging, I figure I've gotten pretty decent at it. Man, I wish I had something cool to write about. I wish I had lots of hot babes coming over to give me back rubs. I wish I had a maid to clean my room. I wish the fucking travel agent would get me a confirmed flight home so I could sit at home and vegetate, and then wish I was somewhere else. Oh, life is so hard. I'm going to go get drunk. Oh wait, I'm already kind of drunk. Time to pass out. Fuck.

Hopefully I'll be more entertaining tomorrow.

Today's Blog Babe: minishorts; she wanted to be babe of the month, but hey, you need to send me tantalizing pics to be babe of the month, silly.

Totally Awesome Theme Park Day

2005-06-23T01:26:00.000-05:00

You know, I just realized that theme parks are so ridiculously expensive because, more often than not, they're a shitload of fun. Yes, from time to time the lines can be ridiculously long, some of the rides aren't that fantastic, other theme parkers are usually royal pains in the butt, and once in a while, the skies will open up and piss all over your parade, but hey, none of this alters the fact that you're given 12 hours or so to jump on as many mind-numbing, death-defying, stomach-wrenching rides as you possibly can, take as many pictures as your camera will allow and, in general, make a total jackass of yourself. I know - what could be more fun?

Being a seasoned theme park veteran, I figure I've come up with a pretty good method for tackling theme parks. I am a total theme park marauder - today I took my little brother to both of Orlando's Universal theme parks - when we weren't squeezing our way past the lines for attractions, or wrangling ourselves places in the express line, we'd be running from ride to ride. Considering we covered two theme parks in a day (pretty thoroughly, too, I might add), I figure we did pretty damn well for ourselves. I spent all day yelling, 'GO!GO!GO! HURRY! QUICK QUICK IF YOU SLOW DOWN CANNOT SIT ALL THE RIDES ALREADY! FASTER FASTER!' one second, then the next second yelling, 'WAIT! STOP! TAKE PICTURE!'

Yes, it might have rained for about 5 hours (or perhaps 5 billion? Who's counting?) and we might have sat next to a bunch of excitable fat people on some of the rides (you know, those twits who spend the whole ride going 'WHOO!! OH! AIYEEYEEYEEEEYEEE!!!' and occupying half your seat with their overflowing buttcheeks, but hey, all in all, it was still an awesome, awesome day.

Mickey Loves Money

2005-06-20T01:11:00.000-05:00

I'm in Orlando, Florida, on my pseudo-godfather's laptop; we've finally moved beyond dialup connections, and onward to the great promised land of wireless internet. Unfortunately, it's kind of hard to do photo-editing with a touch-pad. I tried for a bit, but totally gave up. Fortunately, we can always rely on google images:

'that's right... tell daddy to give me all your money'

For those of you bright sparks who have yet to catch on, I'm scheduled for a visit to the magic kingdom tomorrow. Let me tell you, these play-dates with Mickey and friends don't come cheap. A one-day 'magic your way' pass will set you back US$59.75 per adult. Seeing as to how they define 'adults' as anyone aged 10 and above, I suppose a large proportion of those paying adult fares in the disney theme parks would have barely gotten used to the fact that they're no longer sperm. For a party of five, this comes up to about US$300. Couple this with the fact that there are FOUR disney theme parks in Orlando - The Magic Kingdom, Epcott Center, MGM-Studios and Animal Kingdom, as well as the fact that each ticket only gets you into ONE of these parks, and you're looking at spending a small fortune paying these bastards for the pleasure of waiting in line. We're in Orlando for 3 and a half days, which means we're looking at US$900 to Mickey's bank book. Is it just me, or is this a lot of money?

I've been to plenty of theme parks. You might think that the hefty fees would keep the crowds at bay, but, unsurprisingly, they don't. I was recently at six flags, and in the 4 hours I was there, we managed to get on a grand total of 4 rides. I know, fantastic, right? Given that I spend, say, ten hours, and sit on, say, 10 rides, that will be roughly 6 bucks per ride. Thus, I will be lining up an hour to pay 6 bucks for each ride.

There's obviously a cheaper way - I could always buy a 'magic your ~~money a~~way' pass for 3 days - this would cost US$171 per adult, and would save us a whopping 10 bucks each. Oh, joy. Considering I also want to go to Universal Studio's 'Islands of Misadventure', so that I can give them my money as well, I suppose I'll pass.

So, the question remains, why the hell am I putting myself through this?

The answer, of course, is that Daddy's paying. You're only a parasite for so long, you know, and I plan to make the most of it. If my kids want to get on a magic roller coaster, though, I'll just drive real fast through Genting highlands. Given my wonderful driving skills, that would be scarier than any rollercoaster. I figure my parents have given disney enough money for one lifetime.

The Slow Boat to St. Paul

2005-06-17T23:12:00.000-05:00

I'm currently on a dialup connection in St. Paul, Minnesota, the city I (sort of) grew up in. I haven't been here for 16 years, but, somehow, according to what foggy memories I have of it, it hasn't really changed. I mean, they built a monolithic tribute to consumerism called the mall of America (complete with an indoor amusement park) but, other than that, a lot of the city is still how I (very faintly) remember it.

I've been spending the last couple days in the back seat of a minivan, driven around by my parents, and seeing the people who used to play with me when I was about 7. I seriously almost feel like a kid again. There are only so many times you can hear stories about the time you were 5 and proudly told the waiter in the chinese restaurant that you didn't speak any chinese. I mean, it's kind of cool that all these people still remember you, but seriously, I'm almost 24. It's been a long, long time, people.

This whole trip is leaving me really disoriented. I just don't know how to react to all this. I suppose it's good seeing these places, and walking these streets, but, on the other hand, it's really, really, really weird. What do you say to the people who used to be an integral part of your life when you were a totally different person? I seriously have no clue.

I'd show you guys pictures, but this dialup connection is really slow. Next stop: Orlando. Disneyworld will probably be much less awkward.

The Middle of Nowhere

2005-06-16T02:54:00.000-05:00

I'm currently blogging from Indiana, the land of corn, soy beans and Wal-Mart. It's a nice place, somewhere I haven't been for, well, a little too long, I guess. Today we were led along by the whims of my sister and god-sister; we went out to ride horsies (oh, how little girls love their horsies) and also went to go look at little pretty things. It was alright; long car rides mean that I can sleep a lot, which explains my poofy hair and squinty eyes.

Somehow, everywhere I go, I manage to look silly.

This is me with my mom and brother in Navy Pier. I look silly.

This is me and my mom on horses. I look silly.

Tomorrow we're off to Minnesota, where I will continue to look silly, and not have a computer.

Oh yeah, as a final note, after looking at the source code for Kenny Sia's Singapore Blogger quiz, I have this to say:

1) I was born in 1981, not 1982. I know I look young, but you don't have to make me so young, ok, Kenny!

2) I almost never ever go to Zouk.

3) I am not promiscuous, ok! I am shy. See so shy!

4) I don't understand why Kenny thinks I'm a happy guy. Don't you read the anger and depression on this blog? I'm full of negative emotion, man! How am I happy? I don't get it!

Alright folks. Catch you later.

Which Blogger am I?

2005-06-14T23:30:00.000-05:00

So, the other day I took kenny sia's increasingly popular singapore blogger quiz. I'd been checking comments on my blog in my retreat, and I got a couple (meaning, one) comments (ok, fine, i got one comment) from this guy saying something like 'I TOOK KENNY SIA'S QUIZ AND HE SAID I'M YOU'; it was the sort of dumbfounding comment that makes me wonder about parallel universes, before I realize that it's actually referencing an internet quiz.

Somehow, though, this quiz was different. Why? I'll tell you why.

1) Kenny Sia is a funny guy. Everyone says Kenny Sia is a funny guy. You know what? Kenny Sia actually IS a funny guy. I had to say it so many times because I resent people being funnier than me. THE BASTARDS! WHY ARE YOU GUYS FUNNIER THAN ME? FUCK YOU GUYS.

2) I am one of the possible answers. How kick-ass is this? Haven't you ever wanted a quiz where people can say 'hey, I'm you?' Naturally, I had to go and take the test and see if I would be me. I've always wanted to be me, I hear being me is kind of cool.

OK, so I went to take the quiz, and lo and behold, it pronounced me Mr. Miyagi!

I figure, you know, being Mr. Miyagi is pretty cool. He's a cool blogger. Everyone seems to be going on about how cool he is. But, you know, I'm cool too, and I like being me. I clicked the 'back' button, and filled out a couple questions different. Lo and behold, I got:

I tried it a third time. Still Miyagi. Maybe I wasn't changing enough answers. I revamped all my answers, thinking long and hard about what Kenny would think I was like, and I came out...

By now I was frenetic. I changed answers like mad, shifting things here and there - kenny should know I have a shitload of music on my computer, he should be able to guess I was born on or around 81, and perhaps he would know that I thought episode 3 sucked. I changed all the other answers around, then I found that suddenly I was...

Ok, actually first I got finicky feline, but then that was such a freak incident that somehow, when I decided to write a blog entry about this fiasco, I couldn't get myself as a result.

Finally, I tried to get myself, the old-fashioned way. I read entries written by people who had gotten results proclaiming them 'big fucks'; I read the description Kenny wrote of me. I read a whole bunch of stuff, and contrived to get the answers just right, so I'd get to display a sticker saying that I was me, so that I'd pass Kenny Sia's newly given identity test, so that I could say, damn it, I'm the real big fuck.

After all my effort, I came out xiaxue. Damnit Kenny, I give up. What do I have to do to be me?

Police Come Already!

2005-06-13T16:54:00.000-05:00

So, having graduated on saturday, I met my parents at the airport on sunday afternoon. As it stands, I have my parents, my pseudo-godparents, my brother, my sister and my godsister all sleeping in my bedroom and living room. Having bundled them off to the museum of science and industry for the afternoon, I finally have a good half an hour with my faithful computer to shoot off a blog entry before we head for the peaceful little town of Terre Haute, Indiana. Readers of my old blog will remember this as the land of corn and soy beans, and not much else. It's recommended for a laid back couple weeks of daily trips to Wal-Mart, and not much else. If you like Wal-Mart, I guess it's not a bad place.

After living alone for so long, though, it's hard to have your parents over. Seriously, it's like the police are here, you know?

Gone are the ciggies (though, to be fair, I kicked smoking a while ago), gone is the mountain of alcohol, gone are the late night sexy, sexy parties. I can't even sit around and play winning eleven all day. Hell, even blogging is hard. Wah, life with the police - it's hard. Somehow, though, given that they're family, I guess it's alright. My parents decided to come in to chicago a full day after my graduation. Given that I don't have a stinking camera (other than my wonderful webcam, which is totally useless and produces stunningly pixelated pieces of trash), I had to rely on my good buddy Andy to take a picture for me. For your voyeuristic pleasure, let me present my only goddamn graduation photo:

Naturally, though, my parents, being Asian, also insisted on taking a whole set of pictures - two days after my graduation. Today we did the normal parental tour of the campus thing, except I had to wear my graduation gown, and feel vaguely like an idiot. Ah well, I figure that's cool, too. Given that I spent a good 38 dollars on the damn gown, I might as well get a little bit more mileage out of it, right? After today, the silly thing is probably headed for a long, long, time spent in the back of a dusty, dusty wardrobe. At least it got worn more than once, I figure.

Anyway, thanks to all of you who've still been reading this blog, even though it's getting dreadfully boring, and I've been so negligent in maintaining it. Things have been hectic around here, but I'll be able to sit down and write shit eventually, I promise. It's great hearing from all 6 (or 5, or 4) of you who left comments, too. You guys are cool. I'll be back in Chicago on the 24th, but you know me - I'll try to check in when I can, yeah?

See y'all later.

Regards,
J.

Oh, by the way, give you all blog babe today: friends don't let friends date mullets (whatever the hell that might mean); I like this livejournal for some reason, and I don't usually like livejournals. Therefore, this site must be at least ok. That is all.

I'm a Bad, Bad Blogger.

2005-06-09T02:39:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I realize I've been churning out pretty crap posts, but between the heat, the pre-graduation ceremony socializing, and my general ennui, I really can't get it together to come up with anything good.

My parents are coming in on Sunday, which means that this place will get even more quiet. I know that, having just come off a super long hiatus, this isn't exactly the cleverest blogging career move I will make, but hey, I figure I'm going to ease up just a teeny little bit, because, hey, you don't have to be awesome all the time.

I love self indulgence.

Chicago is in Heat.

2005-06-08T03:27:00.000-05:00

The thing about Chicago is, we're more prepared for the cold than for the heat. Days like this, you sit in your apartment; the heat is horrible, and all you have to fight it is a box fan, which really doesn't go all that fast. You wish for air conditioning. Oh, how you wish for air conditioning. All you have, though, is that fan, the occasional breeze from a generous open window, and a cold bottle of guinness. The heat makes you thirsty, and my water filter can only make so much water, you know.

Besides, a cold bottle is definitely necessary to survive those summer days. The heat, it can really kick your butt sometimes.

After that, there's the 5 minute thunderstorms which hit you in the middle of nowhere; if you're used to tropical weather, you should be fairly adept at avoiding the rain. Here, though, this involves some mega-nimble sleight of body; you have to magically appear and disappear as the rain starts and stops falling. Of course, it doesn't really matter if you're caught in the rain, the dry heat reduces your pouring sweat into something dry, sticky.

Then again, at least the heat keeps you on the move, you know?

The downside with all this drinking (to keep cool) is that your memory doesn't quite work as well, nor does your mind in general, but hey, I'm done, man! I'm gradumacated! YEAH! FUCKS YEAH!

Ahhh.

Graduating is Hard Work

2005-06-07T07:39:00.000-05:00

It's 7.41 am, and my world is spinning around like one of those rides in an amusement park. You know, those amusement parks where you spend all day waiting in line, and then get on a two-minute ride, and then go to the next line and wait again, because, hey, you've already paid the admission, so you might as well, right? Anyway, imagine being on the ride for, like, three hours, and getting off, your legs weak and wobbly, your stomach doing the 100 meter hurdle, and your head feeling like it was smashed by a baseball bat (albeit a fizzy, lemon-spiked baseball bat).

I'm going to see Blue Man Group later on today, but man, did I drink a lot yesterday. I'm going back to bed.

Later.

Thrift Store Day

2005-06-04T21:57:00.000-05:00

The best thing about thrift stores is that they're cheap. As in, real cheap. I love cheap stuff,

A couple things make thrift stores even better:

1) Half-off day. What an incredible idea!! Whereas you would previously pay, say 3 bucks for a jacket, you now get it for the paltry sum of a buck fifty! I was tempted to pay in change. It felt like I was spending no money at all!

Tada! A jacket and a hat for a buck fifty each! Hurrah!

2) Stylo-ass garbage bag raincoats. It was raining very hard, and we had no raincoats, but the store owner gave us garbage bags. They were cool.

Here I am modelling the latest in rainy day fashion:

COOL RIGHT! I know, I know.

3) Good company.

Yeah, today was an awesome day, but it wouldn't have been cool without a spontaneous companion for the long-ass bus ride / fashion advisor. Ok, time to go out. Catch y'all later.

Today's Blog Babe: cubatastic

Adventures of Evil Fuckhead

2005-06-03T20:16:00.000-05:00

I might not draw as well as Daniel Wang (who all of you should check out), but I sure manage to keep myself amused.

In other news, I am done with college. I just have to sit back and wait for my damn degree. I feel awesome! AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME!

Today's Blog Babe: ryoko, courtesy of Andy; you may have noticed that the monthly blog babe has been taken down, but no new blog babe has been installed for June. Yeah, well, I'm prone to fits of self love, where I decide that my face should be all over the place. Sue me.

Super Pow-Ka-Leow Meme

2005-06-01T19:02:00.000-05:00

I've noticed a whole bunch of memes floating around the blogosphere lately. By this, I mean that an alarming number of posts I've read lately have been distinctly meme-inspired, or merely meme posts. It seems like the whole blogging community has hit a wall in terms of creativity or something, so we're all recycling posts and stuff. This is alarming, you know - if this happens, the blogosphere will be taken over by idiots, then what will we do? That's right, boys and girls, we will be SCREWED!

Unfortunately, I am, as always, the last person in the world to stop the rot. In fact, I'm joining in, because I'm one of the world's premier idiots. I have decided to do the all-encompassing meme - the super-kiasu, pow-ka-leow meme.

PART 1: These are the following memes you will satisfy by doing this pow-ka-leow meme.
1) First, there's the musical baton meme. Damn musical baton meme.
2) Next, there's the musical baton meme's stunted cousin, the movie meme.
3) To finish the unholy trilogy of 'how much pop culture I've soaked up like the brainless sponge that I am' memes, there's the literati baton. This one I haven't got yet, which is fortunate, seeing as to how I don't read books because I am illiterate.
4) Next up, we have the interview meme.
5) Finally, we have the sgblogconspiracy meme, because obviously, with all the memes, it's a fucking conspiracy.

I also include my pig from the pig drawing test going around, for good measure.

PART 2: Answer the following questions. If you don't want to answer these questions, you can change them. But you must try to fulfill your meme obligations, ok! Otherwise how will it be a pow-ka-leow meme?
1) Why are we meme-ing?
2) What is your favourite book-turned-into-movie-turned-into-soundtrack that is awesome and why? Also, how much pirated media do you have on your computer/bookshelf/stash and why does this make you cool? If this question is too complicated, an answer like, 'I am damn cool, I listen to funky music and read good books.' will suffice. Extra bullshit optional.
3) Talk about your sex life. If you look at the interview meme, the question behind all the questions is basically, 'got dirty stories or not?'
4) Talk more about your sex life. If there's nothing to be said, tell us something embarassing so we can laugh at you. Failing this, take silly pictures of yourself.
5) Who is behind the blog conspiracy in Singapore and what music does he / she / it / the devil like? State your evidence.

Ok, here are my answers:

1) We meme because it's part of the giant conspiracy, of course. You see, the grand government machinations behind the major Singaporean blogs have all run out of steam already. By getting everyone to meme, then nobody will do horrid, nasty things like criticise the government and get themselves sued. We will all be happy campers and be happy.

Have you ever noticed how a meme is like a form? Answer question 1, answer question 2, answer question 3. You see, on top of keeping us occupied, the government is keeping you well trained; well trained to fill out forms. Every government in the world loves happy form fillers.

Not so happy form fillers would also suffice, though.

2) Given that the government is watching this blog, there is no pirated stuff on my computer. Hell, I don't even have a computer. I access the internet through my collection of radioactive mice. That's why my pictures are so grainy, you see - mice have shitty eyesight. Even radioactive ones.

My favourite book turned into a movie is trainspotting, and it has a cool soundtrack, too. I totally win, because I am awesome.

3) Yesterday I picked up two girls in downtown Amsterdam. We went down one of those canals in a boat, because I am super rich. After this, we went to one of those infamous Amsterdam coffee shops and got so high on drugs which would be illegal anywhere else in the world (particularly Singapore) and then adjourned to a seedy hostel for discovery channel style sex.

What do you mean, you don't believe me? You asked for a dirty story, right? Not enough, is it? You want the colour of their panties? I will tell you. One had the red lacy kind, and the other had mickey mouse. Don't ask me why, I also don't know. These white people are crazy.

One girl said 'I really like the song why by nicole norderman' and I thought, holy cow, it's mr. brown in disguise. That was scary. Then again, it just proved that government agents are everywhere, even in Amsterdam.

4) I don't have any more dirty stories already. Give you picture.

See, we even cover the sexyblogger meme.

5) If you've been reading my blog for any length of time, you will realize that I have the most variable writing style, ever. I remember that, at one point in time, some douchebag said I had an inconsistent point of view; guess what, asshole, this is because I am not one person! Remember when i said I accessed the internet through a bunch of radioactive mice? A-HA! I actually AM a bunch of radioactive mice!

I know, you are thinking that I will say I am behind the conspiracy, but you are WRONG! I am fighting the power, undercover. I was going to write a post about how I saved the world the other day, but unfortunately, I screwed up. You see, more often than not, this blog should be titled 'the big fuck-up' rather than 'the big fuck'. So basically, yes, that's it. The government wins again. The conspiracists (so called because they are also racists) always win. Were you thinking otherwise? Please, wise up.

So, who's in charge? Obviously the people at tomorrow.sg, lah! Particularly that James Seng fellow. Anyone who can come up with such a myriad of organization charts must be a government minion. Oh, and mr. brown. Seeing as to how he's so por-pu-lar, OBVIOUSLY he is in cahoots with the government. Nobody loves a good monopoly like the Singaporeans, eh?

charts this nice? MUST be working with the government!

Oh, and they all listen to teeny-bopper music. And eat at MacDonalds. And support Microsoft. All the diversity is a front... a FRONT!

CONSPIRACY!!!! ARRGHHHH!!!!!!!

PART 3: List additional rules. For the heck of it.

1) You must follow all the rules of this meme. Particularly this one.
2) You must answer all these questions on your blog. Particularly these ones here.
3) You must post everything on your blog and link to the guy who arrowed you and all the guys who arrowed him because this is a MEME. It has ME in it twice. I am important. I demand your linkage, to support the good fight against conspiracies.
4) Arrow five (or more, also can, I don't care) other people to ~~link to you and answer your stupid questions~~ participate in the community-spirited meme.
5) Ignore all the rules, and just try to finish as many memes as possible in one blog entry. Oh, and link me, because I am cool.
6) Post this letter so that a poor child won't die. IF YOU DON'T YOU HAVE NO HEART, OK!

PLEASE POST THIS ON YOUR BLOG SO THIS LITTLE BOY CAN LIVE. YOUR ENTRY WILL BE TRACKED AND A CHEQUE WILL BE MADE BASED ON THE FINAL COUNT!!!

Dear All:

This is the request of a special little boy who will soon leave this world because he has no arms, no legs, no head and no testicles. By you showing this to as many people as possible, you can give him and his family a little glimmer of hope. That's because on every blog that this is posted on, the White House will donate USD1 towards his treatment. If this is posted on more than 100 blogs, George W Bush will donate both his testicles to this little boy!

On a side note, my balls will also expand knowing that you actually listened to me... but you don't need to know that.

Just think. Instead of that little boy, it could be you one day. Post this on your blog. Its not even your money, just your time!!!

IF YOU DO NOT DO THIS YOU HAVE NO HEART!

Dr. Kenny Sia
Professor
Center of Research into Human Stupidity
University of Uranus

PART 4: Arrowing other people who I wish would link me more often but never link me WHY DON'T THEY LINK ME / whose blogs I think are cool / who I think would oblige me / who I know about because I have no real friends:

1) mr brown, because he's been meme-ing more than normal lately. not at all related to the fact that I want to whore off the traffic from his site a little more. no, it has nothing to do with that. what are you thinking.
2) kenny sia, because DAMN IT KENNY, A POOR LITTLE BOY WITH NO TESTICLES WILL DIE OK! DON'T YOU HAVE A HEART????? HARRRR????
3) Don AQ, because he's one of the few people who actually seem to give a shit what I say either way in the blogosphere, and that's mad cool. Oh, also because it will give him something to do other than expanding l.e.w.d, which gets larger and more distended every day.
4) makanguru, because I'm sure that, sooner or later, he'll want a plug for his new blog, and this is as good a plug as any.
5) evelyn lee, because she's a chiobu. Also because her face has been up on this site for so long already, might as well get her to write another ~~useless~~ blog entry glorifying the big fuck.

All of you, please try and finish as many memes as possible in one post, so you all won't have to meme no more. Thanks very much.

PART 5: Good stuff you will get by participating in this meme:

1) You can avoid all memes forever already. Someone arrow you with a meme? Give them a link to the time you did the super pow-ka-leow meme entry and say, 'sorry, did that one already'. If there's a new meme in town, you can just update the pow-ka-leow meme entry. Hurrah! It's like meme vaccination, only it's a meme. Oh wait, isn't that how those vaccines work?
2) You can engage in yet more ~~blog whoring~~ ~~social linking~~ cyberspace community building. This is awesome.
3) YOU WILL SAVE A YOUNG BOY'S LIFE!!!! ARE YOU HEARTLESS???? HARRR???????

Today's Blog Babe: I ain't blogging to blog (whatever the hell that means); this one recommended by Kenny Sia, ok! I surely feature one, right?

technorati tags: meme, sgblogconspiracy, infantile

Go to Hell

2005-06-01T01:18:00.000-05:00

So, all that stands between me and ultimate irresponsible mayhem (well, for about two days or so before I have to start with all the end-of-year-administrative bullshit) is a final on thursday which, to be honest, I'm not very motivated to study for. I'm tempted to email the prof, cite domestic troubles, and take a pass/fail in that class; I probably won't do it, but man, I have to say, it's tempting.

So anyway, I was watching the motorcycle diaries yesterday, and there's this part where Che and his buddy are at a leper colony; I was watching this with my ex-roommate, and we had a brief exchange over the scene, which I have paraphrased for your reading pleasure:

Him: Dude, you know how much leprosy sucks?
Me: Yeah man, bits fall of you and shit. It sucks.
Him: So, Jesus spent time with lepers too, right?
Me: Yeah, he healed them and stuff.
Him: Yeah right.
Me: What, what do you mean, 'yeah right?'
Him: He didn't heal the lepers.
Me: Yeah he did.
Him: Dude, it's leprosy.
Me: He fucking healed the lepers, alright?
Him: Why, because it says so in a book?
Me: I happen to believe that book is the word of God, alright? Are you trying to piss me off?
Him: It's still a fucking book.
Me: Dude, this seriously offends the shit out of me. You should know that this sort of talk pisses me off.
Him: Yeah, I know, it's the one thing that pisses you off.
Me: Seriously, man, what the fuck, dude.
Him: Ok, fine, fine, he HEALED THE LEPERS.
Me: That's right. He fucking healed the lepers.
Him: Oooh! Looky at me! I'm Jesus, and I'm healing the lepers because I'M MAGIC
Me: You're such a fucking asshole.

You know, I might not be the best Christian, or even a very good one, but I still tend to get pissed off when people tell me my personal lord and saviour is a fraud. If I were the lord almighty, and I didn't know that my ex-roommate was, in general, a cool guy, I would throw him in the lake of fire out of spite. Naturally, this is a bit of a stretch, given that an almighty god would also be omniscient and stuff like that. I suppose that, all things being told, God is also less spiteful than I am. If he isn't, well, we're collectively fucked, ladies and gents.

Is it just me, or is there very little love for Christianity on the net these days? I mean, I've seen all the 'I love Jesus' blogs (and, to be honest, I don't really read most of them) but, aside from the blogs that are openly Christian, like, 24/7, it seems that there's a lot of blogs with very little nice stuff to say about Christianity in general. To be fair, I don't care whether my beliefs are in vogue or not; I don't believe in God to please people. All the same, though, it'd be nice to read a little less, 'oh, Christians suck because they think everyone else is going to hell,' or 'evangelists suck because I dislike people telling me what to believe'. If I was a better Christian, I'd be an evangelist, too, you know. I remember when I was a little kid, my faith was founded exclusively on a fear of hell. I used to try to get my friends to believe in God, just so they wouldn't have to go to hell, you know, when we all died and stuff. Now, of course, I realize that, even if most of these friends went to hell, I probably wouldn't remember them.

Yes, that's right, I'm not a very nice person all the time. In fact, sometimes I'm an asshole. You know what, though? I didn't make up the rules of my faith, ok? I believe God did. I'm not a perfect dude as a Christian, I'm just, you know, a forgiven one. Don't give me the whole 'what if a mass murderer repents and blah blah blah what about good people, benevolent God, etc, etc,' and all that nonsense. If it were up to me, everyone I liked would go to heaven, and everyone else would get stuffed come judgement day, because hey, I'm selfish like that. Just so you know, though, the last time I checked, I wasn't God. Faith, as far as I see it, is a stretch. I'm believing in something I can't see, don't necessarily know exists, and believing a whole bunch of definite properties about God which we may never be able to prove one way or another. Given that I signed up for the package deal, rather than the simple 'get out of hell free' card (which, I'm told, might not even necessarily exist as an independent offer) I figure that, unfortunately, I am doomed to believe that some people will go to hell. Isn't it more comforting if the people who fill hell, therefore, are those who didn't make the same religious gamble as me?

I just checked again. Nope, still not God. Don't bitch at me about the rules, alright? I didn't make them, I just believe them. I can do that, can't I?

Today's Blog Babe: Amelle; oh, if you guys have noticed, it is June, and I have yet to replace my blog babe of the month. First, I've gotten really shit few applicants. At this rate, I figure I will stop this whole fiasco, especially if applications don't pick up. No girls want free advertising? Can get a LOT of hits, you know! Whatever, lah.

Where You Been All Weekend?

2005-05-31T00:28:00.000-05:00

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)

2005-05-27T19:06:00.000-05:00

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

2005-05-26T09:27:00.000-05:00

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

2005-05-24T21:36:00.000-05:00

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

2005-05-22T23:43:00.000-05:00

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.

2005-05-19T22:58:00.000-05:00

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

2005-05-18T22:37:00.000-05:00

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)

2005-05-16T22:36:00.000-05:00

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

2005-05-15T13:29:00.000-05:00

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

2005-05-14T02:46:00.000-05:00

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!

2005-05-12T00:51:00.000-05:00

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

2005-05-09T19:27:00.000-05:00

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

Post-Its from The Edge 2

2005-05-08T06:35:00.000-05:00

Still on hiatus.

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

Post-Its from The Edge

2005-05-07T01:31:00.000-05:00

I'm officially on hiatus. Just saying hi:

The Big Post o' Hate

2005-05-06T02:14:00.000-05:00

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

2005-05-05T00:24:00.000-05:00

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!

2005-05-03T23:59:00.000-05:00

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.

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

2005-05-02T23:16:00.000-05:00

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!):

NOT SO BIG VERSION:

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

2005-05-01T23:53:00.000-05:00

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

2005-05-01T06:43:00.000-05:00

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!

Sucky Poems Suck My Ass

2005-04-29T13:21:00.000-05:00

So, yeah, I read a lot of blogs, and occasionally, because I've read one too many sappy poem that makes me want to vomit blood (ok, some are not bad, but most suck so hard they make the hairs on my anus stand), I decide to mock all these fuckers by producing my version of their shitty poems:

First, poems have to have a shitty name, that doesn't tell me jack shit about why the fuck I should be reading them. Something like 'pretty flowers' or 'birdies with wings' or some shit like that. Fuck, man, you know what I do with birdies with wings? I fucking eat them. Here is a picture of my favourite type of bird with wings:

Can you say yummy chicken? If you're a blog poet, probably not, because you're too busy being pretentious to say anything with less than three syllables in it. Hey, asshole, take your fingers out of your ass and write normally, jerkface! Gah! I fucking hate shit poems!

Next, the shittiest poems always, always, always rhyme. Now, I used to write a shitload of poems myself. Reading all my old poems, I've come up with a simple formula:

For those of you who don't understand, that simply means that, in amateur poetry, the degree of rhyme will be proportional to the degree of suck.

Compare the following two poems:

My love for you is like the sea
And we can run to where we're free
And I will give you pretty lillies
And feed you many ikan billis

Compare with:

Fuck you
Poems are gay
So are you, faggot.

I like the second one better.

You know what the problem is? The problem is, that too few people are willing to tell their friends, 'hey, you know what? Your poems suck ass,' Instead, they will be all impressed at their friends' 'sensitive sides' and shit like that, and be like, 'oooh, you wrote a poem you're so sensitive' or some shit like that. I used to force my friends to listen to the shit that I wrote, and I know, inside, they were thinking, 'man, I wish this fuckhead would stop reading me his suckass poetry' but on the outside they were like, 'yeah, that's pretty good.'

Bullshit.

Fortunately, I eventually got pretty good at writing poetry. You can see the evidence here and here. Notice the lack of a) rhyme scheme and b) stupid wanky feelings bullshit. Especially angst. I fucking hate angst. If you're all tortured and shit like that, you might as well convert your feelings to rage, because rage makes for much better writing. Again, a comparison:

The sands of the hourglass
Fly by fleetingly
As I am trapped in my prison
Of sand, and I am
Sad

Compare this with:

That fuckhead!
I will rip off his head
Open his mouth on the ground
And piss in his lifeless mouth, motherfucker!

Second poem wins, with extra points for judicious use of the word 'motherfucker'.

In conclusion, let me write a poem mocking all the shitty poems I see on shit blogs:

Sunshine and Love

I went for a walk and I saw the sun
And so I thought I'd start to run
And write poems too, oh look, I'm a pretentious fucking faggot
What the fuck rhymes with that oh...err...maggot!
And baggot! What the fuck is a baggot? I don't know
Oh woe! Oh woe!
I love the sun because it is warm
And I have shit for brains
Don't you like my poetry
And this sensitive side of me?

Please love me, darling, you know you
The girl in lecture, yes she who
Is always staring at that guy
With nice hair; hey, you know I
Write poems!
I'm clever!
And not a pretentious fucking faggot?
Oh wait, fuck, I am.

Don't you see that we
Were meant to be?
I love the sun and I love you
Even though I don't know anything about love
Because I'm a pretentious piece of shit.

Yes, I know, I'm fucking awesome.

Ok, before I end, though, I have to say that, naturally, not all poems suck balls. My little brother has been writing a whole bunch of poems on his blog, and he's tolerable. As in, I don't want to puke out my insides when I read his poems. This says a lot, because it really takes very little to make me want to puke out my insides. That's how many shitty internet poems I've read. Also, my adopted son (long story) consistently churns out pretty good shit. Check out his re-wording of Hopkin's 'God's Grandeur' - see, it's not shit, even though it rhymes, and is based off another poem. Yes, I like shit like that.

Edit: a certain suzy also brought to attention another of my son's parodies which I think is fantabulous: go read!

So, to conclude, before writing poetry, please stop to analyze whether you suck. If you want to have an unbiased opinion, feel free to email me your shit, and I will give you a suck-o-meter rating. Actually, don't, because I can't be bothered to read your shit. Ask your english teacher instead. Oh, and if you have to write a poem, and don't think you're all that good, at least do us all a favour and get yourself wasted, first. Nobody wants to read angsty shit.

Today's Blog Babe: jiameei; why does she have 2 'e's in her name? I have no idea. Ask her. I hesitated in linking her for a while, because she looks really young. Then I realized that she just turned legal, and thought to myself, eh, why not?

Happy Birthday Cheng Yan Yan

2005-04-28T06:54:00.000-05:00

Seeing as to how it's Wendy Cheng's birthday, and seeing as to how I don't have money to buy her espadrilles, or aircon, or a slow loris (you think what? I'm DAMN POOR, OK!), I have decided to dedicate this entry to the blog-queen of Singapore, Miss Cheng Yan Yan.

Recently, minishorts has been writing a whole series of fairy tales involving por-pular bloggers like Kenny Sia and Cowboy Caleb. So, I figured I'd copy her and write a fairy tale of my own. Ok, ready? Let's go!

A long time ago in a land far, far, away, there was a princess named xiaxue. Now, as the day approached for her 21st birthday, the king of the land decided it was about time for princess xiaxue to be married. Being a (relatively) enlightened despot, the king summoned princess xiaxue to ask her opinion on the matter.

"My daughter, it is time for you to be married," the king said.
"Siao! So fast? I'm still young, you know!" the princess replied.
"It's your 21st birthday; you are not getting any younger!"
"Fine, fine, fine, whatever....but I want an ELF! And he better have PENIS VEINS!"

Now, unfortunately, the kingdom was at war with the elves, so this last comment made the king very angry.

"WAH BIANG!" said the king, "humans and elves are not friends, ok! Don't you remember how I was shot in the backside by an elf while you were a little baby?"

Before the princess could protest, the king locked her up in a dungeon. This was very sad, but what to do? Some times, kings are not nice people. To make matters worse, the king sent out a decree that he would marry the princess to the person who could kill the most elves. Princess xiaxue, who had always liked elves, was devastated. So unfair, hor? What to do? King is king, what! While there might have been some people who disagreed, none of them dared say anything, lest the king throw them in prison, with no trial. Or even worse, scarly he SUE their pants off!

Xiaxue was sad to be locked up. It was not fun.

Anyway, so all the daring warriors in the land went off to go find elves and kill them, because hey, what else was there to do? Even brave warriors can get bored of chowing down on stingray and shopping all day long, so off they went to fight the elves.

A couple bloody battles later, the brave warriors of the land came back. By a couple, I of course mean two, or at most three; you see, the brave warriors of the land weren't exactly all that brave, and while most of them had been in the country's army, they had spent their time telling dirty jokes and learning bad habits like how to smoke cigarettes, drink beer and fart a lot, instead of really learning how to fight. Thus, after about two or three fights (mainly involving swinging their swords around and shouting 'nahbeh' a lot), the warriors came back, tired and unhappy. Three of them, thinking that they had done a fairly good job, came to seek the princesses' hand in marriage.

After granting them an audience, the king asked the first, 'well? how many elves did you kill?'

"Your highness, I killed 3."
"ONLY THREE?" the king roared.
"Wei! Your highness! Those elves, got ARROWS leh! Kena hit already, can DIE, you know!" came the quick reply.

The king, not wanting to waste time, summoned the second warrior.

"How many elves did you get?" asked the king.
"Your highness...I killed 2," came the answer.
"ONLY TWO???" the king bellowed.
"Eh, your highness! Those elves, they run damn FAST, can? Somemore they climb trees, you know!" the warrior replied.
"Doesn't our army train you fools to run?" the king snapped.
"Your highness...all the best runners were running...in the opposite direction"

Sensing he was not having a good day, the king summoned the third warrior.

"Well? How many did you..."

At this moment, a messenger came running in.

"YOUR HIGHNESS! BAD NEWS!" the messenger cried.
"What, what, what's happening now?" the king answered.
"THE ELVES! THEY ARE COMING TO ATTACK!"

Before the king had time to panic, though, the whole palace shook with a resounding roar. Lo and behold, it was princess xiaxue, at the head of a rebel army!

You see, before she was locked in the tower, princess xiaxue had amassed a following of dedicated followers on her blog (what, you think this kingdom so low-tech, don't have internet is it? You are wrong! This kingdom damn hi-tech, you know!) who had learnt of her imprisonment and came to liberate her. Since they were so free, they figured they had time for a rebellion before supper as well.

Since nobody really liked the stuffy old king, the rebellion was over by about 8, just in time for dinner. When the elves came, the regime change was already over. Hurrah, xiaxue was now the queen!

Xiaxue was the Queen! Yay!

The general of the elven army requested an audience with the new ruler of the realm, queen xiaxue. While he was happy that the old king was no longer in power, he needed to make sure of the new alliance, and requested that queen xiaxue marry their prince, just to make sure everything was cool and groovy. Queen Xiaxue, having just won power, was not so ready to grant any old request.

"Is your prince cute or not?" the queen demanded, "if he's some old toot, I don't want, ok!"
"Your majesty, our prince is famous for his good looks!" the general replied.
"Sure or not?"
At that moment, the prince strode into the audience chamber, and the queen was dumbstruck, for he looked EXACTLY LIKE LEGOLAS! WAH!!!!

The pretty elf prince looked like legolas

Queen xiaxue struggled to control her excitement, feigning cynicism as she queried:

"But...does he have penis veins?"

The prince himself smirked, and paused dramatically before replying:

"My dear, ALL elves have penis veins."

And they lived happily ever after.

Today's Blog Babe: What, xiaxue not good enough for you all ah? Go say happy birthday to her lah!

Yeah, So the Cod are Screwed

2005-04-27T01:17:00.000-05:00

Seeing as to how it's really late, I'm putting up a paper I turned in for a science class last year. My teaching assistant read it, gave me 0, and said I wasn't 'respecting the class'; until I gave him the real paper, that is. Not that this one isn't serious academic material; somemore got QUOTES, ok! This one was funnier, though:

Everyone knows that the numbers of cod are on the decline. This really sucks; especially if you’re thinking in terms of the long run. Less cod means less food, and less food means we might have to start eating tv celebrities, because hey, everybody’s got to eat, and those tv celebrities don’t really do much anyway. So I guess everyone should be concerned with these dwindling cod numbers. Especially tv celebrities. Oh, and maybe the cod too. And environmentalists, maybe. But then, environmentalists tend to worry about everything, so you don’t really need to care what they think. I mean, if they weren’t fussing about the cod, they’d be fussing about the dolphins. Or the whales. And everybody knows that whales eat cod, so obviously those environmentalists don’t know what the hell they’re doing.

Seriously, though, cod are mighty useful. For one, cod are pretty tasty. According to Fatte, cod are probably the tastiest fish around (2001). While they might not be the tastiest fish per se, everyone probably agrees that the cod is a mighty tasty fish. Except maybe vegetarians. But then again, those guys don’t even eat meat, so who cares what they think? I mean, seriously, dude. Yeah, so what the numbers mean is that if we keep on fishing for cod, eventually they’ll all die and we’ll have no more cod, and while we could still eat tv celebrities, they aren’t quite as tasty, so that would suck. I mean, when you’re sitting down for dinner and all, and your mom comes out and says, ‘hey guys, we’re having cod for dinner’ most people go, like, ‘woah, that’s pretty cool.’ However, if your mom came out and said ‘hey guys, all the cod are dead and stuff, so we’re just going to have to eat TV’s Robert Newman,’ then most people would be all, like, ‘No way! He’s so bad for my diet!’ So yeah, that would really suck.

Furthermore, cod have all sorts of interesting uses. It’s a well known fact that the term ‘codpiece’ refers to one’s genitalia because of the hallowed practice of putting one’s piece into a cod. The cod has, in fact, been revered as pretty damn sexy, if not sacred, by our founding fathers for generations and generations (Kinkki, 1799). Clearly, something must be done to protect this fish, up to and including the invasion of minor countries, because hey, what else is America going to do if it doesn’t bust out its troops? Nuclear weapons may be necessary as well, but hey, shit happens, and when the cod are at stake, no price is too high.

Clearly, however, nuclear warfare might not be the best way to save the cod. This is because the cod might die as well, due to being accidentally bombed in the process. This would suck, because then we’d be killing the very cod we sought out to protect in the first place. The repercussions on our collective credibility would be irreparable. I mean, in the future, when we’re all, like, making contact with aliens and all, all the aliens would know that we were the jackasses who bombed the shit out of the cod when we were trying to save them. And then when all the aliens got together for inter-planetary sports meets or cool alien gatherings like that, they’d laugh at us and put up signs like ‘no dumbasses who kill the fish they’re trying to protect allowed,’ but everyone in the galaxy would know they were actually referring to us, just in a really sneaky, clever, alien way. Really clever dudes agree that, in the event of alien contact, it’s important to have galactic cred (Johnson, 2001). That’s why we have to think of a really cunning plan to save all the cod, so that when the aliens come knocking, we can say, ‘hey guys, not only do we eat cod, we also managed to SAVE THEM FROM CERTAIN DOOM,’ then all the aliens would be all like, ‘whoa, you guys are really pretty cool,’ then the human race collectively would have enough galactic street cred to hit on all those sexy, sexy alien ladies, which would be totally sweet.

So, if nuclear warfare isn’t really an option, what exactly will we do to save the cod? The problem with cod is that eating them kills them. I mean, maybe with all these advances in technology and stuff like that, it might be possible to one day eat a cod without killing it, but all that sort of hi-tech manipulation is way in the future, so it’ll be pretty hard to accomplish. Pretty hard, that is, unless we pour loads and loads of money into the ever-growing field of molecular biology. It is possible that, given enough money, molecular biologists will eventually be able to make really crazy nifty gadgets, like de-juicers. I mean, right now, we have these juicers, right? So you put fruits or vegetables or, I don’t know, fingers in them, and out comes fruit juice or vegetable juice or, err, blood and stuff. But one day, molecular biology will be so advanced that they’ll have de-juicers, so you can put in grape juice or apple juice or blood and out will come grapes, apples, or chickens. Yeah, so once they get to that stage, they’ll probably be able to put all the cod we’ve eaten into these big machines, and out will come, like, real live cod and stuff. Problem solved. However, what we all have to realize is that giving people money doesn’t always solve problems, even if they’re super smart molecular biologist dudes. This is because, given enough money, there’s always the probability that they’ll decide to screw what they’re doing, buy an island or something, then just go live on it and bring a couple hookers or something. Then we’d all be royally screwed, especially the cod, which would suck.

Another way of saving the cod would probably be to stop eating them, but then the problem is that all the humans wouldn’t have cod to eat. If this were to happen, then it would kind of defeat the purpose of the cod being there. I mean, they’d still be around for deviant sex and stuff, but unfortunately, statistics show that 9 out of 10 cods used for deviant sex end up dying (Duder, 1969). Obviously, then, they would serve no purpose. However, they’d all be alive, so that would be cool. From a cod’s point of view, anyway.

Having established a way of saving the cod, we must now consider the repercussions of such an action from a galactic point of view. If aliens were to come and make contact, saving the cod would mean we’d be able to say, ‘hey guys, look at all this biodiversity and stuff we’ve preserved,’ increasing the chances that they’d be really impressed and take us to all the cool alien clubs and stuff. However, on the flip side, they might also be all like, ‘well, do you eat those cod?’ and we’d all be like, ‘no, we were trying to save them, so we stopped that shit,’ then they’d all be like, ‘daym! Who wears the pants on this planet?’ Then instead of inviting us to all the hot alien dance clubs, they’d just take the cod out instead, and the cod would laugh at us and say nasty things behind our backs like, ‘yeah, those stupid humans. They could have eaten us when they had the chance but they just blew it because they’re a bunch of pussies.’ Can you smell a total loss of galactic street cred? I sure can. On the other hand, if we ate all the cod and stuff, and the aliens came by, we’d all be like, ‘hey, let’s go party’ and they’d be all like, ‘wait a second, where are all the cod?’ and we’d be all like ‘what cod?’ and they’d be all like, ‘what the heck, it doesn’t matter anyway, who gives a damn about cod.’ Then we’d all be able to party and stuff. We just wouldn’t be able to eat cod and all, but that’s cool, because there are still tv celebrities. I mean, some of the aliens might be all grossed out and say, ‘woah, you people eat people?’ but we’d just be all like, ‘hey, screw those guys,’ and the aliens would be all like, ‘yeah, you’re right. Let’s go party.’ Then everything would be chill on the planet earth, which would be mad sweet.

The question remains, then ? what do we do with all these cod? Obviously, we just keep on eating them. However, seeing as to the fact that they’re going extinct, we’d better eat them faster, just so we can eat as much good stuff as we possibly can before it runs out. I mean, just look at the superbowl and stuff. Everyone knows that it’s going to sell out, so you camp outside the ticket office and stuff so you can get your ticket before all those other suckers. Clearly, in the cod, we have a compelling parallel. By eating all the cod before those other suckers, you clearly have a leg up on the competition (i.e. all those other suckers). Therefore, get out your knives and start eating, because when nothing’s left except tv celebrities, at least you’ll be able to say ‘hey man, I ate me a lot of cod.’

I know, it was long, but hey, I liked it.

Today's Blog Babe: Mantouu's Xanga. I think this one was recommended by Gabrielle.

The Internet is Evil

2005-04-26T01:09:00.000-05:00

So, in what can only be described as a tragic turn of events, my in-real-life friend AcidFlask (incidentally, not his real name!) was forced to shut down his blog, mainly because people are threatening to sue his pants off. This only goes to show that nothing good can come out of the internet. As I write this entry, I have a midterm tomorrow that I haven't started studying for, and it's suddenly occurred to me that, just maybe, blogging is about to ruin my life, and I will become like Cowboy Caleb like that. Considering I don't know Cowboy Caleb, I have no idea what this means. For all I know, the bugger could be a millionaire, and also secretly Bruce Wayne, in which case, being like him would not be all that bad. Alternatively, he could be a secondary school janitor who blogs while 'pretending to clean the computer lab'. This, I suppose would suck. The point, however, is that I should really be doing more homework, when instead I am wasting time on the internet.

Consider the following conversation:

J Schnorng: it's led me to conclude
J Schnorng: that nothing good comes of the internet
Jol: hahaha yeah
Jol: very correct
J Schnorng: except porn
Jol: i was gonna say, except porn and webcomics
Jol: oh, and mp3s
J Schnorng: yes
J Schnorng: and free movies
Jol: and being able to buy shit online
Jol: actually, quite a lot of good things, hor
J Schnorng: yes
J Schnorng: but at the root it is evil.
J Schnorng: because technology is evil

This succinctly proves my point that the internet is, at heart, evil.

Seriously, it's really evil!

No, I mean it!

Ok, to prove to you that the internet is evil, I have found some evil, evil links, which show the utter moral bankruptcy of the evil internet:

1) Mr. T singing and dancing. You remember the A-Team? Then you'd remember that Mr. T should beat things up. And not sing. Or dance. Yucky.

2) Evil programs that gangster-ify your language. Two of them, somemore! First, we have Tha Shizzolator. Next, we have Gizoogle. Some of you might be saying, it's ok what, it's quite funny. Well, you are WRONG. As Goldie-Looking Chain tells us in their video, guns don't kill people, rappers do. So evil!

3) Evil google searches. Finally, if you search for bigfuck on google, you get my site, instead of pr0n. Unfortunately, this only works in Thailand. Nahbeh. Also, if you search for 'fuck your friends mother' in Germany, guess which site pops up? That's right, mine. It's sick! All this shows that Google is evil, mainly because I say so. Evil!

4) Juicypout's post calling me an ah beng. This is clearly evil, because I am not an ah beng! Too much! So evil!

5) Ok, I can't think of anything else. Except porn. There's a lot of porn on the internet. We all know that porn is evil! Evil porn! Yucks! I don't like porn, because I am a good boy! Bad porn! It needs to be spanked! Naughty, naughty, naughty porn!

Having wasted enough time on this internet, I will now go study for my midterm, which I am bound to fail, because I have been blogging when I should have been studying. I am a bad boy. Before this, however, I have to plug makanguru's new blog; he's been blog-whoring even more hard-core than I was a month ago, so you really have to give the guy r.e.s.t.e.c.p, you know? Go click click click on him, ok?

Don't you like clicking on things? We're all too used to computers nowadays, but man, I remember when I'd just sit around and click on things, for the fun of it. Click! Open! Click! Close! Click click click! Open Close Open! Click click click click click! Computer spoil! Parents scold me! Yay! So fun, right?

Finally, today's blog babe: The Ferris Wheel Project; recommended by Shortphat K

On Drawing Silly Faces

2005-04-24T22:00:00.000-05:00

You know something's wrong when I type more than one serious entry a week. Seriously, what is wrong with me?

When I was 13 or 14, I'd spend sundays with my friends from church, most of whom were older than me; all the kids my age had to go home, and I'd be loitering around town with people in their late teens, wandering the streets of Orchard.

Anyway, being the older people that they were, some of my friends had cars. One day, I was trying to irritate one of my friends into driving his car from point A to point B (I was 13, ok? Try and convince me that YOU weren't irritating at 13) and he replied, 'aiyah, here are my keys, you go drive, lah!'

Now, at this point, I had two options - I could either back down and walk (the sensible option) or I could actually take his keys, go off and look for his car (note that I didn't even know where his car was parked) and, presumably, try to drive it somewhere. This would most definitely be the stupid, dumb-ass, makes no sense, what-the-hell were you thinking option.

Two hours later, I found myself wondering what the hell I was thinking. Why the hell couldn't I back down and say, 'ok, fine, I lose,' and get on with it? The problem is, more often than not, I really don't know when to back down, don't know when to say I'm sorry, and don't know when to say enough's enough.

Today I was woken up by a phone call from a concerned friend about an entry that he felt could trigger a Chengzhan-esque wave of shit directed against your humble electronic correspondent. He even wrote a blog entry about it, in which he figures I have 3 days to act before things go to hell. I suppose the gist of his message is that it isn't worth it. In a way, he's right - if the shit really hits the fan, it won't be worth it - it's not worth having your family shamed, having your blog live in infamy, possibly being forced to shut down, all of that - that would royally suck.

Somehow, though, there's a big part of me that just doesn't want to take the entry down.

Maybe it's because I'm the sort of guy who hates being told off, maybe it's hubris, or maybe it's just my firm belief in the fact that things like this shouldn't matter. It's really distressing that people should care when you draw a moustache on a picture. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't hurt anyone. It doesn't say anything - or maybe it does, maybe it just questions what exactly we hold sacred, what we hold inviolable, and questions, just for a second, whether these things are worth keeping sacred, whether any many can be held in such high regard that even his image should be revered.

You see, there's a reason why I don't draw moustaches on Jesus. Any politician, though, no matter how wonderful he is, is still just a man. I can't help feeling that, if I take down my entry, I'm tacitly admitting that he's more than he is, that the man is sacred and inviolate. While I respect all that he's done for my country, and think he's truly a pretty formidable man, I don't think he's a demi-god. I think he's a man who should be able to tell that, in the end, some jokes are, in the end, harmless, regardless of whether or not they are funny.

If you guys think otherwise, and if anyone is really deeply offended, email me, and I figure I'll reconsider taking down the post. For now, though, here's my graphic response:

I found this picture when I was searching google for 'tan ah beng'; what a cute baby!

I wonder if people will think I hate babies if I draw a moustache on this baby.

Anyone who knows me will tell you I love Arsenal, and I think Mssr. Wenger is awesome:

Nobody told me he was actually a pirate!

Here's Mr. Mao:

Why does Mao rhyme with cow? It's a sign!

I have absolutely nothing against Tony Blair:

But his drag queen tendencies alarm me:

So, in conclusion, I'm sorry, everyone:

...sorry I forgot to shave.

Oh yes, sorry for not telling you that I am an evil lizard demon from hell, too. I forget to mention that from time to time.

Today's Blog Babe: Asking for the Sky; I'd actually been reading her blog for a while (i.e. ever since she linked me), but it took an extra recommendation from suspicious bastard before I realized she was linkworthy. Ok, I'm out.

FLIRT NO MORE.

2005-04-24T05:31:00.000-05:00

So, there was a party tonight at my place.

Tonight, I was a good boy:

1) I drank very little. Actually, I drank a fair bit. But I am not drunk. I'm not even tipsy. I'm a little tired, but it's 5.30 in the morning.

2) I didn't flirt with anybody. See what a good boy I am? I'm amazed at myself.

3) I didn't get my apartment trashed.

I just thought I'd let everyone know all this.

Oh, by the way, I've decided to give up flirting, because it's no good for my reputation. People will think I'm a flirt, you know! Then which nice girls will want me? No good, no good! From now on, if you see me flirting, be sure to, err, tell me off. You get extra points if you tell me off in a sexy way. Especially if you're a hot babe.

I didn't mean that, by the way, because from now on, I am a FLIRT NO MORE!

Just so you know.

Oh yeah; while I from time to time get anonymous comments telling me how much I suck, I finally got a whole hate post (ok, maybe HALF a hate post) dedicated to me. I wish the guy had done a little more research, so that he could have written more nasty things about me, but I suppose that we'll just have to make do with whatever he managed to write before passing out in a drunken stupor. You see, being the attention whore that I am, I love it when people write about me. It just makes me more famous, right? Let me encourage people to write about me by making this guy a little more famous:

This is Brose's blog; while he spent half his entry ranting about Miss. Cheng Yan Yan, he managed to dedicate a good three paragraphs to yours truly in this entry. He's only just started blogging, and some of his stuff is kind of funny. Ok lah! Give him some traffic, since he's quite amusing. Even Kenny Sia reads this guy's blog ok! Sidenote to Kenny: Wah, people write about me you never say! Tell me, mah, then I can link him!

What's left?

Oh, right, blog babe: Black High Heels; she wears high heels, a mini skirt, and plays computer games. I am lost for words. She just started her blog, but I'm really attracted to her...err...web design skills. I will try not to flirt with her, though, because I am a FLIRT NO MORE.

EDIT: Ok, maybe I'm a little tipsy. The sun is coming out already, you know! I am tired. Byebye.

In Response to Everything

2005-04-23T02:17:00.000-05:00

In Response to Everything.

After a night on the town, I have decided, my official response to everything that has been said is this:

Bollocks.

You know what? I don't care about being clever right now. I've had a couple too many beers, and I want to paint moustaches on posters. It's time to paint moustaches on lots and lots of pictures!

I want to say that firstly. I was wrong! After a carton of beer, I have discovered the truth!

I have been deceived, by Mr. Leeky! I did a google search for Mr. Leeky:

Bad Mr. Leeky! I draw a moustache on him!

Hahahahaha! He has moustache! Stupid Mr. Man! You have moustache! Why you have a moutsache, stupid Mr. Man?

Mr. Leeky is a stupid moustache face! Hahahahaha! I laugh at Mr. Leeky! Poopyface Leeky! Poooooooottttt!!!!!!! Fart fart fart pooooot!!!!

the other day I bump into Mr. Bushit! Mr. Bushit he is Mr. Moustache FACE! MOUSTACHE! But when Mr. Bushit have no moustace, super surprise!

I make Bushit super moustache-ify!

WOW MR. BUSHIT!!!! IS THAT PICTURE? WHY IS YOU PIRATE?

WOW MR. BUSHIT HE PIRATE!!!!!! ARRRR!!!! Pirate they is go arrr all the time and out of control, dancing and vomit all over the place to make big stink. Yucky pirate! I AM PIRATE! I PUKE ALL OVER YOUR FLOOOR!!!!! Puuuuuukkkkeeee!!!! Vomit! BLEEEEHHHLBLEEEHHH:

Mr Bushit, you sure is one stinky dude!

Where is Mr. Leeky?

He is staring at me again! Beat him up!

Mr. Leeky is silly. Hahahahaha. What a silly billy.

Oh wait! There is blog babe!
Sway sway My QUIrkY WAY!

YEAH!!!! RoxoRZ!!!!!!!!!!!

Singapore's "Infantile Blogosphere"

2005-04-21T23:13:00.000-05:00

So, as I was planning my stunningly amusing blog entry for the day, I was reading the heavily plugged Tomorrow and found a link to Mr. Steven McDermott's entry labelling the Singapore Blogosphere "infantile"; he refers to a 1995 article written by a certain “Ann Tellman” (which he reproduces in his site) and pronounces the Singapore blogging community ‘infantile’. In a nutshell, this statement pisses me off. Seeing as to how Mr. McDermott is obviously a reasonable, intelligent man, I will pitch this entry to a reasonable, intelligent, educated audience. Sorry, no ‘fuck you, fuck me, fuck the world’ in this entry. You can read my previous entry for that. I just have a few things which I feel need to be said, and damn it, I’m going to say them. You know the drill; if this bores you, click on the title of this post, see the blog babe of the day, maybe leave a comment, and go on your way. But for now, let’s get down to business.

To be fair, Mr. McDermott agrees that his statement may have been a little harsh; his logic, if I interpret it correctly is as follows:

1) Mr. Brown and Xiaxue are popular; in fact, they are, in all likelihood, the most popular blogs in Singapore.

2) The most popular blogs are by definition the most accurate reflection of the Singaporean blogger mindset

3) Neither Xiaxue or Mr. Brown raise thought provoking, status-quo changing posts, or incisive social critique. This makes their content un-intellectual. Mr. Brown’s ability to keep a job in the local newspaper somehow casts doubt on the controversial nature of his blog.

4) The lack of social commentary reflects an unquestioning support of the government, and thus allows the government unbridled power, which they are free to abuse as they like.

5) Singaporeans have thus fallen prey to the government’s evil ploy to keep our bellies full and our heads empty; we only have ourselves to blame when the revolution comes and we are the first against the wall.

Naturally, it was not Mr. McDermott’s intention to be inflammatory. However, I really resent the implications of his argument. I have a lot of very liberal friends here in the states, and they often say things about Singapore as well; how we’re citizens of a draconian police state, how our laws are punitive and harsh, how we’re oppressed, the list goes on; I always tell them that it isn’t as bad as they think, that Singapore’s system isn’t as bad as it’s made out to be, and frankly, I’m tired of saying it.

Yes, it’s true that it’s kind of silly that there’s a law against chewing gum. Yes, it’s kind of silly that you get caned for vandalism. Yes, it’s kind of harsh that smuggling drugs gets you the death penalty, and yes, I do sympathize with Shanmugam Murugesu. I can accept it when people say Singapore isn’t the most liberal country in the world, and I can accept that sometimes, the government babies us a little bit. However, I really can’t stand the popular notion that it’s our national culture which is somehow to blame for this; I resent the portrayal of Singaporeans as unintelligent, unquestioning sheep who blindly follow the government’s autocratic doctrines and are, in some twisted way, responsible for their terrible state of affairs. I resent the implications that just because we love to eat and shop (believe me, I have a distinct passion for both these things) we are thus, by definition, purely consumers, and nothing more.

You see, Mr. McDermott, in my opinion, it’s not the Singapore blogging community that’s puerile. It’s the whole world; the internet in general. If you wanted to judge the state of the world from popular blogs, then, on the evidence of Maddox and Tucker Max, we’re all a little infantile. If you want to look closer to home, the ingenious folk at Rather Good and b3ta.com aren’t exactly paragons of maturity, either. As Shianux says in a comment on your post, blogs serve many purposes. One of these is entertainment. I would go so far as to say that the major purpose blogs serve is entertainment. As much as I hate to say it, the most popular use of the internet is not intellectual discussion, but entertainment. Given a choice, I will unwaveringly predict that the average male college student in America uses the internet more for downloading pornography than for debating politics. This does not make America a perverted, disgusting society (though some close-minded Singaporeans may have mentioned this off-hand, and hence propagated the image of the conservative Singaporean, opposed to ‘Western liberalism’); it merely reflects the fact that, most of the time, man kind in general is rather base. I’d love to say that the world is full of thoughtful, considerate, intellectual people, but it isn’t. In fact, I’ll even go a step further and confess that, more often than not, I am not a thoughtful, considerate, intellectual person.

Nonetheless, none of this implies that we’re infantile, either. Anthony, in reply to Mr. McDermott’s post, remarked how Singaporean websites like Talking Cock use humour to question the government; I feel this is one of the most striking pieces of evidence that we aren’t the sheep people make us out to be. While I can’t claim that the local film industry is regularly churning out stunning works of art, I like to think that it shows a lot of promise, and regularly churns out fairly good stuff, like Royston Tan’s fifteen, and Jacen Tan’s Tak Giu, which, if you think about it, is really not too shabby for a tiny little red dot.

Perhaps what really distresses Mr. McDermott is the fact that politically minded, mature blogs like his own or Shianux’s get so much less traffic than the blogs with less intellectual subject matter. Here’s a heads up, Mr. McDermott; as far as I’m concerned, intellectual blogs, in general, get less readers than the funny, irrelevant, irreverent ones. This is true all over the world. This is not necessarily because people are stupid; rather, it is due to the fact that the vast majority of people don’t have the energy to think about politics. Yes, political blogs in America and the UK have more readers; this is not because the people in these two countries are by default more intelligent. Rather, it is a direct result of the fact that there are more people in these countries.

So, in conclusion, please don’t say that our blogosphere is infantile. Please don’t insinuate that we are the unwilling perpetrators of our own allegedly unhappy existence. We like our food, and our shopping, and our trips to Malaysia, but this does not make us passive automatons. It just makes us normal people, who don’t like being called stupid.

Alright, sorry to all my regular readers for boring you with that rant. Here’s the blog babe you’ve all come for: All Things Oriental. Oh, I love the delicious irony of providing a blog babe today. No, she’s not a bimbo. In fact, she seems quite clever, even if she might like food.

technorati tags: singapore, blogosphere, singapore blogosphere

Who Says I'm Vulgar?

2005-04-21T09:54:00.001-05:00

Oh blogger ... first it refused to publish this post, then it finally published the same thing a whopping FIVE times! What rubbish, right? I know, I know.

In response to yesterday's fuck-filled entry, Ci'en suggested I install a 'fuck' counter to see how often I use this blog's eponymous epithet. Actually, to be honest, I've thought of the same question myself. You see, I don't really think of myself as a vulgar person. Sometimes, I'm sitting around, and I just have to swear at something. Say, for example, my beer is warm. Fucking shit, beer should never be warm, right? Say, for example, my fucking computer hangs. Fucking hell computer, you shouldn't fucking hang! Say, for example, I am going to the toilet and slip and fall into the toilet bowl. In such a situation, even a monk who has embraced restraint would say something like, 'fu..nny toilet, forgive me father I have sinned and almost said a bad word'.

So...anyway, I counted the number of fucks (before this entry), and I found that, in 38 entries, I have used fuck a grand total of 200 times. Damn nice number, right? I think so too. I couldn't believe it was such a nice round number, so I counted it twice. Lo and behold - 200! I know, it's totally amazing, right? Just so you know, every post technically has one fuck, since every post ends with 'the big fuck said so'; I don't count those. Not my fucking fault that my website has a vulgar name, right? So what if I named it? I was forced by circumstance, ok! What circumstance, you might ask? Obviously, I was forced to name my blog such a startling and vulgar name by the fact that all the other good names were taken. As for all the rest of the lame-ass names link 'pinkponyblog' or 'cutekittenswithprettywhiskers', yeah, well, they're not in character for me, mainly because I'm not a giggling buffoon. Also, the sidebar doesn't count - it's always there. Just in case you're interested, there are 10 occurences of the word fuck in the sidebar. Anyway, the bulk of the 'fucks' come from 4 entries:

1) In first place, we have the post where I tell everyone to shut the fuck up. Yes, I know, there are several of these. Shut the fuck up.

2) The Blogging Tipsy post - 34 fucks. Cannot help it - I was drunk! Ok, not drunk, but at least tipsy. I can swear when I'm tipsy, right? Damn fucking right, I can! I can swear when I'm not tipsy too! I love freedom! Yeah! Freedom fucking rules!

3) My Awesome Pictures post - 21 fucks. Of course, this is cheating, because at one point, I say fuck 10 times in a row, for no reason. So I guess I only really mean it 11 times.

4) My ultra super quiz thing; I think this one had a lot of fucks because of the fact that I had to put my url in the hyperlinks (yes, I count those fucks too).

In all the rest of my posts, though, I actually use 'fuck' damn sparingly! I have FIFTEEN posts with NO fucks, and FIVE posts with only ONE fuck. See? MORE THAN HALF of my posts are actually not that vulgar, ok! I can write civilized when I want to! I mean, while I find myself compelled to swear at certain things, I don't actually have Tourette's, ok? I can hang around polite company without telling the annoying moron (you know, the one who spends the whole night giggling at stupid jokes) what a giggling fuckhead he is. I'm THAT civilized.

I mean, let's look at averages. Based on averages, I use fuck approximately 5.26 times per post (though this will probably go up after this post). Come on, people, I figure most people think 'fuck' more often that that, right? What do you think when someone cuts you off in a car? If you find yourself substituting those fucks for 'frick' or 'fish' or something retarded like that, well, err, good for you. I hope your butt-plug doesn't make you explode. I mean, I don't understand - have you been in those situations where fuck is implied, and everyone knows you mean to say fuck, but nobody actually says it?

The four Fs are ... fighting, fleeing, feeding and having sex.

Cue infantile giggling.

I don't understand why this should even be funny any more. It's not funny when you 'almost said a bad word'; are we supposed to cup our hands to our mouths and say, 'oh dear, what an almost naughty man!'

Oh, some days I wish we'd all stop being such retards and grow the fuck up.

By the way, reviewing my posts, I actually find that I really like my fuck fests. I think I write a lot better when I swear.

Ok, back to the daily inconsequentials:

1) For all you non-Singaporeans, here are some great Singapore English references. I'll probably put these in my sidebar when I can be bothered to:
- The wikipedia entry on Singlish
- The Coxford Singlish Dictionary (fucking famous, ok, this one!)
- Anthea Gupta's guide to Singapore Colloquial English

2) Mr QH wants to be referred to as Mr. Q from now on. I originally wanted to refer to him as Mr. Q, but he wanted QH, and now changed his mind again. Ok lah, Mr. Q, I hope you're happy.

3) Sandra is not only a chiobu, she is also quite clever, and also has an uncanny knack for chatting on msn in a fashion that doesn't annoy me. This is rare. I am mainly saying this because I am supposed to thank her for the traffic she brings me, or something. Damn it, from now on I will stop taking requests, unless I fucking feel like it.

4) WHY HAVE MY SUBSCRIPTIONS DROPPED AGAIN? Fuck man, yesterday they were at 9 (on the feedburner feed) and today they are a measly FIVE! Did I scare everyone away? Fuck! Yes, I know, I'm an attention whore, but, as I've said before, at least I admit all this shit, right? Honesty is the best policy, especially since that means I can cuss at people who unsubscribe. You fuckheads! You're missing out! The bloglines atom feed people, however, are pretty consistent. Thanks, you guys, you guys rock.

5) No, I haven't forgotten about the blog babe. Here you go:

Today's Blog Babe: Rei hime; you might have to go through lots of pictures of food to find pictures of her, but man, I love pictures of food. Food and hot babes? What more could you ask for? Also, she's Japanese, and my fetish for all things Japanese is well-documented.

Blogging Tipsy

2005-04-20T04:02:00.000-05:00

This is a long entry; if you want, you can click here to view it in a new window, leave comments, click on the blog babe of the day and fuck off, if you wish. Then again, I'm such an awesome writer, isn't I? Yah, that's right.

I came home today with a burning desire to play Grand Theft Auto and drink beer. It's like drunk driving, man, playing Grand Theft Auto tipsy. The only difference is you can pull out a virtual gun and shoot virtual dudes, which makes it super awesome. If I wasn't concerned about the horrible social values violent video games convey, I'd recommend that people spend more time playing them. I'm actually kind of apathetic. Thus, I recommend all of you go play violent video games. They're AWESOME!

Anyway, having had a couple beers, I'm a little tipsy, and don't really give a fuck. I love how I can swear freely in this blog; having your own blog is awesome. Every last one of you should get one. Sure, your blogs might suck, but hey, I won't read them, and you'll get to say whatever the fuck you want in them. Freedom of expression, man! Let's say you like pandas, and think they're the fucking greatest thing in the world. Every day you can say 'holy shit, pandas are awesome,' and, if you're lucky, people will come and read you, and be, like, 'shit, this guy is totally right! Pandas ARE awesome!'

Of course, you could also say that pandas are fucking useless, like this guy. But that's entirely your choice. You could even blog about your butt-plugs or some shit like that. On a side note, is it me, or are butt-plugs fucking illogical? Consider this - your butt is designed to propel shit out of it. It would thus take a very fucking strong plug to seal it up, right? Wouldn't it hurt like shit? I don't see how it would work; I'm sure it would destroy the elasticity of your anus. Sometimes I take really big shits, but man, a butt-plug? That would fucking suck, man!

Anyway, you can blog about whatever the fuck you want, and sometimes, people will read it and say, 'shut the fuck up, you're an asshole and your layout sucks'; other times, people will say 'holy shit! you fucking rock!' and other times, people will say 'I don't understand a fucking word you're saying, because you are an incomprehensible drunk moron who should drink less beer and stop farting.' Excuse me, I can't help farting. Lots of beer gives me gas, and farting feels awesome.

If you write about your friends, though, people might slime them. This is not always cool. Mr. QH says I totally misrepresented his tricks and made him look like a shameless git yesterday. I told him to write a clarification, and would like to say a few words in his defence. Let me tell you all, Mr. QH is not a shameless git. He is very shameful.

No, sorry, wait, fuck, that's not what I meant. I meant that he is a super cool guy. Mr. QH can sing damn well. He can also speak many languages. He also is a nice guy, universally loved by all because he isn't really all that greedy, but he jokes about it all the time and we know it and it's funny. I sometimes get anonymous comments saying, 'hey, Mr. Big Fuck, fuck you!' and I think, 'that's right, fuck me, I'm the big fuck. Fuckety fuck.' See, fuck has no power over me. You could tell me to shove a dildo up my asshole and sit on it because I'm such a fuckface, and I'd read your comment and respond, 'I don't want to shove a dildo up my asshole, alright? My asshole is for shitting through - shitting on fuckfaces like you. Poooot! See, I'm shitting on you, fuckface! Hahahahaha!' My friends, though, are kind of sensitive sometimes, and I think they're cool. So don't say mean things about my friends. Or say them, if you want, because I believe in free speech, and the right of all men to be stupid fucking assholes, so I can rant about what stupid assholes they are, and wish anal dildos on the lot of them, the fuckheads.

Excuse me for a while, I'm hungry.

Alright, I just came back from the kitchen. I opened the fridge and attacked it with a spoon. Unfortunately, you can't really eat ham with a spoon, so I stood there with a spoon for a while and felt like a stupid dickhead for a while. Bear with me, I'm waiting for Mr. QH to email me his response. He says he's shy; blogging takes thick skin, ok. You might get enemies, enemies who try to beat you up when you're walking down the street!

Oh wait, no, that's just my old bookie. But that's another story, for another day.

So, where was I? Oh yes, Linda Chia wrote me a very nice email asking me if I could ask all of you to go see if you could identify the fucker who stole her handphone. Sorry, I had to make that bold to catch the attention of the sleeping fuckers in the audience. Anyway, having looked at the photos on her blog, I'm pretty convinced that the fucker in question is a jellyfish. Or perhaps a piece of kueh lapis. In other words, the picture is blur as fuck. I read some of the comments on the post, though, and apparently some eagle-eyed internet dudes could make out some sort of face. Maybe it's one of those stereoscope sort of things or some shit like that. I could never fucking see those things. So, yeah, go see, and help catch the bugger!

Still waiting for Mr. QH....

Oh yeah, my roommate's cat got castrated today. I feel sad for small animals with no balls. Why can't they just give the poor guy a vasectomy instead? I suppose that no creature should be denied the joys of sex. Then again, I don't want cat sperm all over my living room. Ewww. This reminds me; if dolphins have sex for pleasure (as I heard on the discovery channel or something) does this mean that they sometimes masturbate? Or is dolphin pussy just fucking plentiful? I think this is a question you should ponder seriously.

Still waiting...

Oh yeah, I was meaning to post a disclaimer on this site. You know, one saying that I'm not always serious about the things I say, and how, you know, I make up a lot of bullshit that I write. Then, I decided not to. Let it state for the record that I absolutely mean EVERYTHING I write on this site. I am 1000 feet tall, and have superpowers, and shoot lasers out of my ass. I also am a stud with a penis that could level the Tokyo-Yokohama metropolis, and have extra miles left over to fight Godzilla. When I was born, African tribes started worshipping me as a fertility god, because that's how far my penis extended. This is all the truth, because I NEVER BULLSHIT. Also, I think about my GPA all the time, because I am obsessed with my studies. Finally, I am a completely evil and twisted human being, and I eat babies... with soy sauce.

Shit, idle banter sucks...AH HA! Mr. QH's clarification:

Dear fans of The Big Fuck,

I am really honored by The Big Fuck’s occasional feature of my
bag of tricks and would like to clarify certain issues for
clarity’s sake (obviously!).

First, I must give credit to two of my wise accomplices for
adding valuable tricks to the Mr. QH bag of tricks and
refining unrefined tricks. May we put our hands together for
The Big Fuck and the less-known Mr. ML! Go figure out who Mr.
ML is…

Second, for anyone who wants to try the Ipod trick, let me
clarify the details. I was fulfilling an AOL offer to help my
friend fulfill the Ipod offer. So after I completed ONE AOL
offer, I got ONE complimentary free magazine subscription!
Then behold the power of the Internet Explorer (IE was still
cool back then), I backspaced my way into the magazine
subscription page again. Then I applied THREE more times and
I got FOUR confirmation emails! Fantastic, I thought. BUT I
ended up with TWO magazine subscriptions (what screwed up?).
But never mind! I am delighted enough with my
deservedly-gotten gains (I helped someone get an Ipod, ok!) to
present you with the moral of the day so that you can enjoy
Wired and Stuff like me: Help someone today and you might end
up helping yourself!

Third, the “grab the railing” move was inspired by the hordes
of stupid bulls barging their way up the red SBS bus from the
side. You know, I am in the queue going up the bus (yes, I
queue up…what do you think huh? Mr. QH shoves everyone out of
the way and gets up the bus first? NO! The key here is
subtlety!), then you have these mindless bulls charging up
from the side (“so tricky”, Mr. ML will say). So what do I do
uh? Let them up and deprive my hot date a seat? Of course
not! So I devised this “grab the railing” move to reclaim
justice! Go try it today and earn yourself a seat today!

Mr. QH

Ah, Mr. QH is a funny guy, man.

Alright, finally - time for some Grand Theft Auto!

Today's rant brought to you by four bottles of Bitburger and a couple shots of Tequila.

Today's Blog Babe: addict, courtesy of Scarlett

How to Get Ahead (or at least in front)

2005-04-19T00:14:00.000-05:00

So, I had dinner with Mr. QH today (you know, Mr. QH from the eat yourself silly post. I was in the library, studying, when he came up to me:

QH: Eh, what you doing?
Me: Wasting time lah, you blind is it?
QH: You eat already?
Me: No leh...why? Can you find a free dinner?
QH: Dunno...let's see...eh...I see first years.
Me: Steady, free dinner. You think it's ok?
QH: Aiyah, surely ok lah, I know them. Let's go!
Me: But...but...their dining plan is at the lousy dining hall!
QH: Yeah, that's true...what time is it?
Me: 6.30.
QH: Oh wait, we can look for the Singaporeans!
Me: Good idea!
QH: Let me just ask these guys, then if the first plan fails we got a BACK-UP PLAN!

So, over dinner, Mr. QH and I discussed yet more plans for getting small advantages in life. Honestly, few things are more important than the little battles you fight - getting in front of lines (why should you be in the back? OBVIOUSLY, your time is worth more than everyone elses!), getting to eat the most at dinner (after all, you're paying too, what - you have to MAXIMISE every cent, right? If your pennies aren't screaming, you aren't pinching them hard enough, you know!) and making sure you know EXACTLY when the next free stuff giveaway is (if YOU don't take the free stuff, someone else WILL). Mr. QH told me how he filled out the ipod offer THREE TIMES, not for an ipod, but for additional magazine subscriptions.

You might ask, why does Mr. QH do this? Are magazines really so interesting?

According to him, they're 'quite nice, what...you can read Wired and see what's hi-tech...not bad...free, you don't want meh?'

Mr. QH always has little rules. We discussed crowded buses as well. First, there are basic rules of positioning (these are quite simple - anticipate where the door will be and stand there; don't be a dodo and go and stand near the windows (you think you're the S.W.A.T. team or something, is it? Don't be stupid! You go into buses through the DOOR, not the window)! However, once you've done this, what about those guys who try and squeeze in front of you?

Mr. QH says: Just grab the railing!

By grabbing the railing, you cut off their path to the door, and if they push, you can just pull yourself up, guaranteeing that you will be FIRST up the bus. Well done!

Next, we have an addendum to the eating thing - some of you posted your suggestions, but none of them dealt with the concept of dinner conversation. Now, it is very obvious that you are stuffing your face if you don't talk. If you're eating non-stop, people are likely to think you're bad dinner company, anyway. The question, therefore, is how to maximise eating AND dinner conversation at the same time. Mr QH and I came to the conclusion that the best way is to ask questions the big eaters will want to answer - if they're football buffs, ask them about the coming season. If they're hardware geeks, ask them about the benefits of different sound cards. You get the picture. While these people are yakking, stuff your face. Be sure to pause occasionally, look interested, and make reassuring noises. If you're mouth is exceptionally full, interested grunts will also suffice.

Mr. QH wants to write a book with all his special tricks for getting ahead. I told him to start a blog instead, but he declined; he's too busy trying to squeeze himself a better GPA. He and I concluded that if you're about to receive an A- for a class, you're better off taking it pass/fail - after all, given our 3.8something GPAs, an extra 3.7 will pull you down, right? Think smart, people!

Besides, getting a blog will diminish his aura of mystery, he says.

We'll see, Mr. QH. We'll see.

Today's Blog Babe: crazy beautiful; yah lah, quite beautiful.

Roommate's New Pussy

2005-04-18T02:23:00.000-05:00

So, is there some bizarre connection between women and cats? I have a couple friends who have cats; strikingly, all the cat owners I can think of are female. I'm sure I have some male friends who own cats, considering the number of guys I hang out with, but then, it seems to me that girls with cats are much more likely to turn into crazy cat women, calling their cats their 'babies', fussing over the cats all the time, taking pictures of their cats and so on. This, it seems to me, is highly unhealthy.

While cats are kind of cool, they are not your babies. These furry purring things did not come out of your wombs, alright? They are cats. Cats are animals, not humans. It's bad enough that new mothers shower us with pictures of their teeny tiny babies who can't even open their frigging eyes; some people, however, insist on showing us pictures of their MOTHERFUCKING CATS! Holy fuck! I want to step in and tell these ridiculous women to wake the fuck up and have some real babies instead, because then at least the fuss would be goddamn worth it. I mean, seriously.

I know, cats are damn cute. I like cats myself. Don't these girls know, however, that they're headed down the path towards becoming crazy cat ladies? It's insane! Insane, I tell you!

A couple weeks ago, my roommate begins asking me if I would be ok with us having a cat. Now, I actually kind of like cats; I think they're cool. What I'm not crazy about, however, is the idea of having to clean out this cat's shit and whatnot. However, my roommate's voice, the way she talks about cats, as well as the way she fawned over my friend's cats when I was taking care of them, all lead me to the conclusion that my roommate is a potential crazy cat lady in the making. I know better than to separate women and their prospective pets, so I sort of pussyfoot my way around the issue, in typical, grunty, non-committal fashion. I think I've mastered the 'whatever you want' grunt.

Random Person: "Is it ok if I [here I blank out]"
Me: *grunt* *mumble*
Random Person: blahblahblahblahblah?
Me: Yeah. Sure. Whatever.

This enables me to get back to my main occupation, namely blogging / playing Grand Theft Auto.

So, yesterday night, my roommate comes in with her parents (who were in town for the weekend) and a cat.

"Hey ... I got the cat."

Notice it is now the cat, instead of a cat. This is the first sign of cat-lady-itis. Seeing as to how the cat ran into my room and hid under my computer, the 'I got a cat statement' was also an exercise in stating the obvious. I don't think I was ever formally introduced to the cat, in that she didn't tell me its name (or she might have, but I wasn't listening); she sort of expected me to know the cat's name automatically, since I am now living in approximately the same space as this furball. Anyway, the cat's name is something ridiculous sounding, and it starts with a T ... Taytawhatthefuck or something like that.

I refuse to call the cat anything but xiao mao, and I speak to it exculsively in chinese. You may ask why. Well, I hate it when pets get stupid pretentious names. You know, those obscure foreign names with lots of strange, misplaced consonants, like 'Syskikkyylll' or 'Tylananana' or stupid shit like that. Why don't people name their pets normal names like 'Bob'? If you want to give your pet a stupid polysyllabic pet name, why not call it 'enema' or 'constipatia'? That way, at least the whole world will know you have something stuck up your ass.

Seriously, though, when naming pets, try something that doesn't sound stupid and pretentious, like 'the rocket dog' or 'super awesome mutt' or 'fluffy'. These are all cool pet names, because I've either heard of them, or readily understand what they mean. My godparents named their dog 'sui sui', because they said (in chinese) that they were very 'sui bian' in giving the dog a name. I think this is an awesome pet name. Taytablahblahbullshit, on the other hand, is a far inferior name to something simple like 'cat'. I mean, for crying out loud, it's a cat, right? I love cats named cat.

Other than that, though, to be honest, I kind of like the cat, and I think the little guy kind of likes me. He spends a lot of time in my room, trying to gnaw at cables; I tell him he's a stupid cat and tell him to stop it, but the stupid cat doesn't understand chinese, I think. Stupid cat. I suppose he likes me because we're up at the same ungodly hours. Here's a picture of the cat making a jackass of himself:

Yes, the cat likes climbing all over my desk. I was typing, and the cat seemed to be amazed to see words on the screen. I was watching the cat, and then I got an idea. I opened up paint, and painted a cat on the screen. Holy shit, the stupid cat flipped the fuck out. It started meowing and pawing at the screen. I had to close the picture, because I didn't want the stupid cat scratching my monitor. I wonder what it'll do when it sees the webcam.

Oh yeah, that's right, it'll chew at the cables. The stupid cat loves chewing at cables.

You can't hold these things against cats, though, because at the end of the day, cats are cute. The little guy loves hiding around my computer. Perhaps he likes it because it's dark and cozy. Or maybe he just loves having all those cables.

'Oi, cat, stop chewing at my fucking cables!'

Ok, now he's on my backpack, getting ready for sleep:

Yeah, he's cute, I cannot deny this. I just wish he'd stop chewing at cables and learn some chinese already.

I'm going to endeavour not to write any more about the cat, lest I become a crazy cat guy.

Today's Blog Babe: warnjai; another xanga, with another bunch of pictures. Whoopee!

With Regards to Yesterday's Entry: I'm not really sure what's going on, and if it's a false alarm, but it seems that my family might be relocating or something like that. It was just big news to me, and left a lot of things to be considered. If you're interested in the details of that, you can always email me. It's not that big a deal, though. Thanks for expressing concern and whatever (yes, all 6 of you)

Some days...

2005-04-17T06:18:00.000-05:00

Some days, you're minding your own business, and then you get one of those pieces of news which makes you think, wait, what's going on? It might not exactly be earth shattering, and it's not exactly catastrophic, but somehow, it's big. And it needs to be dealt with - somehow.

Sometimes, I wish someone would just tell me what the fuck I'm supposed to do.

I'll be back with a rant eventually, but for now I'm just a little winded.

In the meantime...

Today's Blog Babe: Mellifluous; see, I so take care of you all, hor?

Some People Should Just Shut Up.

2005-04-16T05:50:00.000-05:00

So, I started reviewing blogs for the weblog review today. I figure that while I might not exactly be a world-famous, top-quality blogger per se, I'm pretty good at telling good blogs from crap blogs. Man, reviewing blogs is kind of tiresome. Due to the fact that I feel like I owe it to the bloggers I review to read through at least 60 or 70 percent of their entries before pronouncing judgement, I found myself trudging through banal comment after banal comment, wishing that someone would come along and shoot me because my brain was going numb from the sheer repetitiveness of it all.

Again, let me state that I have nothing against the people who write mundane blogs. I figure it's your right to write stupid, wankathon blogs about your mundane, wanky life, and share them with your wanker friends if you so choose. What I absolutely cannot comprehend, however, is why these people, who are ostensibly (I love that word, ostensibly) writing about their personal lives, choose to submit their sites to the weblog review. What are they hoping for? Are they hoping that a reviewer will find their writing style exquisitely beautiful, and bring publishers to give them a book deal? Are they hoping that they will have a sudden influx of readers taking an interest in their mundane-ass lives? Or, perhaps, here's my favourite theory - perhaps they're hoping that people reviewing their blogs will tell them, 'hey, so-and-so, your life is cool! You are cool! Hey, so-and-so, you rock!'

Seriously, man, this shit is not going to happen. Here's my advice; if a typical entry in your blog is something along the lines of, 'wah...today was XXX event, I went with A and B and C. it was fun / not fun / funny / totally boring / the most amazing thing I've seen since the last amazing thing I saw' or 'today I saw this movie, it was good, too much violence, blahblahblah' - yeah, if your blog consists of nothing more than this sort of thing, and perhaps the occasional quizilla result, you are, in all likelihood, writing for yourself and your friends. Do as all a favour, and keep your blog to your little circle. Occasionally (and I mean, very occasionally), you will come across bloggers who relate their experiences in an engaging, thought-provoking, and, if you're lucky, amusing way. However, you don't swing this by writing two line entries about how your day went, and you CERTAINLY don't achieve this by being long and tedious.

Here are my tips for making your blog bearable to an audience who does not know your friends, does not know you, and does not know why they should read your blog. I know that several 'how to blog' guides are already out there, but, if you're thinking of getting other people to read your blogs, here's a little checklist:

1) For the love of all that is good, edit your posts. I admit, I'm not exactly the best when it comes to doing this, but seriously, it would be great for blogging if people at least gave their entries a once-over before posting them. Keep your entries as short as they possibly can be. I like to rant, but then, I'm an angry guy like that. At least I skim what I've written a couple times before I post it. If you can't even be bothered to read what you write before you post it, don't expect anyone else to be bothered to read it, either. Except your wanky friends, of course.

2) Throw in a picture or two, if at all possible. Again, there are exceptions to this, but unless you write really well, (and I mean really well), it always pays to throw in a couple of pictures to break the monotony. Nothing's more intimidating, and frankly annoying, than a shitload of words. What, you think people don't read enough at school / the office / on road signs, is it? Please, everyone here can read. That's beside the point. Spare us your monologues.

I know, I get wordy. But hey, I think I write really well. Sue me.

3) Don't offend me with your goddamn template. If you don't know what I mean, read this entry by me, or this entry by the calm one or this entry by Adrian. There you have it, 3 fairly good bloggers agree: a lot of sites have sucky templates, and should never see the light of internet day. If you have one of these sites, don't spam your friends tagboards with demands that they link you; don't advertise your site all over the place. Change your template to something manageable like minima, then grow a brain.

Ok, those are just the basic, basic, basic things I can come up with off the top of my head. The underlying principle behind all this, however, is simple - there are two types of blogs - blogs which actually take into account the fact that they are written for other, reasonably intelligent human beings, and blogs written for giggling pre-pubescent morons; before you think about plugging your blog, therefore, it would help a GREAT DEAL if you were to reflect on whether your blog was worth plugging in the first place.

That being said, I suppose I have to grudgingly respect self-confidence. Thus, I am plugging the following blogs. Read them if you will:

Following my Xiaxue Killers post, lots of people have been asking me to feature blogs with good-looking guys in them. Seeing as to how I don't give a monkey's backside whether a guy is good-looking or not, I am unable to recommend any. However, I was going to chinatown the other day with a friend, when he said something to the effect of, 'eh, I'm quite handsome what, feature me, lah.'

I've heard some female friends actually saying this guy is fairly handsome, so I suppose there's no harm. Go see for yourself, lah. Oh, and I think he was actually joking, so I'm totally sabo-ing him here. I'm such a good friend, hor?

The other volunteer I have actually used the age-old 'Hi, I linked you' ruse - bloggers like me like being linked. I almost always check out blogs which link me. When I checked this blog, however, I found that it's owner had nominated himself as one of the potentially up-and-coming male bloggers. I have no comment. Except perhaps that shamelessness is damn amusing to me. In a good way.

Finally, I have to plug my teaching assistant's blog, because she's trying to get money to pay for something she bought very foolishly or something. I'm plugging this blog totally because I think this is a worthy cause, and not because I think she will give me better grades if I do nice things like this (Heh, heh). What type of guy do you think I am, anyway?

Ok, sorry for going on like this. I will stop now.

Today's Blog Babe: Angela; I think there's some background music playing somewhere on this site, but given that I find the song relatively unannoying, I'm willing to let it slide.

Blogdom's Little Miss and Mr Men

2005-04-14T19:43:00.000-05:00

So, I was checking my comments today, and I had made some comment about how I'm occasionally an asshole, and how wearing sunglasses indicates how I can be an asshole sometimes. Little Miss Drinkalot then very wittily replied that I would 'need to wear sunglasses for a while'. Ouch, that cut deep, Little Miss Drinkalot. I've been zinged.

So, anyway, I've always liked Little Miss Drinkalot's online pen-name. I mean, who didn't like the Mr. Men and Little Misses? I figured that, in response to her cutting remark, I would draw a picture of what Little Miss Drinkalot the Little Miss character would look like:

After making that one, though, I found I couldn't stop. Who else could I do? There are no other blogging little misses (or at least, none that I really want to make caricatures of). There are, however, two very spoof-able Mr. Men.

I give you:

Mr Miyagi!

Ok, I didn't really know what I could do for Mr. Miyagi, so I tried to make him look a little like the karate kid character. I think it's kind of funny.

And finally, Mr. Brown:

I know, after this, all of you must be itching to make your own Mr. Men - if you don't have artistic talent, it's ok; you can still go to the Mr. Men site and make your own! They won't be as stunningly awesome as mine, though, of course.

Ok, that's enough for one day.

Oh yes, shoutout to Celly, who demands to be thanked for giving me traffic, I think - I vaguely recall her saying something about that, so yes, here you go. Huzzah.

Today's Blog Babe: I enjoy being a slut.; since Adrian's been plugging her, and I've been reading her, I think it's about time to feature her. Oh yeah, I'm beginning to run a little low on girls with lots of pictures whose blogs don't irritate the shit out of me; hurry up and recommend me some, leh!

Nothing to Report, Sir!

2005-04-14T03:00:00.000-05:00

A little tired for blogging today; I just got back from two performances for panasia. One of which was this:

My buddy and I did a rendition of Ye Qi Tian's 'Ai Pia Jia Eh Yia'; to pre-empt any questions, no, I cannot sing. Yes, I was awesome, yes, we were fucking hillarious, yes, you should have been there, and yes, the competition wasn't exactly super intense. I flailed my arms a little and danced (in slow motion) on stage, and everyone had a good time. I also was talked into MC-ing the event, which is why I'm absolutely pooped.

Blog admin only, then, for today - I'll be back soon with something worth reading. For now, though, for those of you in the States, help me (and yourself) get a free ipod; I was browsing mlle.b's blog when I came across her plea for another ipod; being the sucker for free ipods that I am, I clickety clicked my way into one of these referral deals. Apparently, though, she's gotten one free ipod out of this already, and her next is already on its way. I covet ipods. So should you. I'll tell you what - if you clickety click your way through the referral thing, and let me know about it, I will put YOUR link on my sidebar, helping you in your quest for a free ipod. Good deal, right? Offer valid to first five dudes who let me know, so be quick about it, yah?

I figure, hell, I have traffic, I might as well capitalize on it. Yes.

Also, while talking to Mlle.B, I realized that, while her traffic increased by a whopping 200 hits today, not one person left a comment on her page (except me, when I left a trail of cyber drool all over her pretty white site); come on, guys! We like pretty girls. We like pictures of pretty girls. If we tell them we like their pictures, it is likely they will post more pretty pictures. Thus, it is a good idea to tell them that we like their pictures. Furthermore, considering all these blogs are fairly under-visited, you can be sure that their owners will be receptive to comments. Do the clever thing - get into the good books of promising bloggers while you still can. Even if you don't want the traffic, you can always say you got to know them first, right? I just checked her blog, and she's put up a couple more photos today, if anyone is interested. Leave her some love, and tell her I sent you, ~~so that she likes me more and I can hit on her~~ so that she will think you are a polite person.

Anyway, I was surfing the interweb, and I found a website called purevolume; it has lots of downloadable music from unsigned artists and the like, which always makes me happy, since I can listen to really fucking obscure music and seem like the coolest dude in the world. Let's face it, music which nobody else has heard of, yet is strangely good, that is cool. Once things get popular, it's just that much less cool to like them. Yeah, argue all you want, it's true. Shut up.

Anyway, I found a band called Chinese Ghost.

Here's there cover art:

If you decide to go listen to them, listen to their song 'miracle'; it's strangely familiar, isn't it?

Sounds a little like Sun Yan Zi?

That's because it totally is! What the hell? I feel like exposing them, but then, I'm too lazy. Any takers?

Final note for the day: I've added yet another little link button, in case anyone wants to use it. It's so small and cute, isn't it? Put it on your page today! Hurrah!

Today's Blog Babe: the future is bright; don't just lurk, hor! Say nice things!

Game Over

2005-04-13T03:17:00.000-05:00

Here's a conversation I had with a friend of mine just over a month ago, we'll call him J; I had just started reading xiaxue's blog; I thought it was cool.

J: what's the big deal anyway? isn't she just very normal?
Me: You know how many hits she gets a day?
J: how many?
Me: Like, almost 10,000.
J: har? really? why?
Me: I don't know. But man, that's a lot of hits.
J: ya lar...she's so funny meh?
Me: I think she's pretty good reading.
J: wah, 10,000 in a day?
Me: That's a lot of hits.
J: yeah, boy - who's reading her?
Me: Singaporeans, I guess
Me: Singaporeans love reading blogs.
J: really?
Me: I guess.
J: haha...yeah.
Me: Damn it lah, I should get 10,000 hits, I'm quite good what.
J: haha, i bet you couldn't even get 10,000 hits in a month
Me: Heh...what if I can?
J: i treat you to dinner lar.
Me: Sure or not?
J: haha...can...
J: if you lose then how?
Me: Eh...10,000 is damn hard, leh.
Me: You think easy ah?
J: haha, true, true...
J: so i am right, then.
Me: Fuck you.
Me: I will show you.
Me: You have yourself a bet.
J: eh, cheap dinner only hor
J: i got no money

If you notice, the web counter was started on March the 14th, 2005. It's now early in the morning of April the 13th, and, as it stands, I've gotten just over 10,500 hits. I have thus safely won myself a cheap dinner. Yes, that's right, I've been blog whoring myself for about 10 bucks. But you know what, it's not the cheap dinner that matters, it's the pride. Also, it's the fact that I had nothing better to do. Thanks to all of you for making this happen; if any of you are interested to know how I blog whored my way to success, well, I could post a guide to blog whoring, since I've been thinking so much about it. To be honest, though, for the past month I've been blogging like crazy - at least two hours a day on average. Now that the work's beginning to pile up, I might just have to ease up on this craziness a tiny bit, and get back to leading a normal life.

Yes, it's a triumph for cynical, clinical blogging. Hurrah for having a plan (and getting a couple lucky breaks)!

For your reference, though, here's a path to my 10,000:

March 15 - Xiaxue does a post on iq tests; I realize that this is a key moment in which I can siphon traffic, and post a funny reply. Based on that, my hits go straight up to 300 on the first day of operation, which is not bad for a first day of operation. I still get hits from that link; it's fucking amazing.

March 22 - The sexyblogger meme proves to be a godsend; I post my contribution on March 23rd; between my catchy website title and my *ahem* alternative sexyblogger pictures, I manage to yet again up my audience.

April 1 - I shoot myself in the foot with my April Fool's joke; site traffic drops, and doesn't recover till the 4th.

April 4 - After a series of mediocre posts, I come up with my online quiz post as well as my indictment of shit blogs. The second post, while being not so fantastic, sees me brown-ed; somewhere around this time, I notice my site on Mr. Miyagi's handroll.

April 9 - I make the Xiaxue killers post, and my victory is a mere formality. When the traffic skyrockets, I make a series of filler posts to ensure that it doesn't drop too rapidly. Fortunately, there are enough people sticking around to push the traffic just over 10,000.

Yay! I have a free dinner!

I'd like to thank:

1) Adrian - man, this guy was one of the first to link me, and definitely the first to plug me. This shows his exquisite taste in blogs. Actually, this guy really does have some pretty fucking good taste in blogs; every time he plugs a blog, I check it out, and it's quality. I'd been reading Celly's blog for a while when he plugged it, and I've been thinking "shit, I wished I'd plugged her first" ever since. Seriously, you should go read his blog, not only because it is cool, but also because he has a fucking good eye for the funny.

2) Mr. Miyagi - dude, this guy is arguably one of the nicest major bloggers in the Singapore blogging scene, in terms of linking you. I was plodding along, trying to get into the sidebars of Cowboy Caleb or Adri (she finally linked me in the end, though, so all the hard work paid off); I didn't think I'd be able to make it past surf stop, but wow, this guy is really nice. And cool. Thanks, man!

3) Cheng Yan Yan, for having such ridiculously high traffic that I was convinced I should be able to do it too.

4) Mr. Brown, of course, for brown-ing me.

5) Each and every one of you. Yay, you guys! You are clever!

Alright, now I'm going to slow down on the blog-whoring; like I said, if you want my secrets to blog-whoring gleaned after a month of intense blog-whoring (I think I'm pretty good at it, too), I can write a simple guide to increasing your traffic, while being:
a) not all that attractive
b) not all that intelligent
and c) kind of crazy.

For now, though, I'm going to sleep, and I'm going to wait for my fucking free dinner. Yeah.

Oh, right, before I sign out:

Today's Blog Babe: EGOMANIA SYNDICATED - for the first time, I'm featuring a girl I (sort of) know in real life. I just ran into her today, and I have to say that, for all of you who don't trust blurry webcam pics, this is the girl you should be stalking. She goes to my school, which is allegedly ridiculously difficult, and she's kicking it's ass, which means she's also ridiculously smart. So yes, this is one of those brains and beauty combinations, once again. Oh yeah, she writes real good, too. Clickety click your way to her page as fast as you can!

Eat Yourself Silly

2005-04-12T01:28:00.000-05:00

It's happened to you before. You're at a chinese restaurant, and you order a couple dishes. Someone at the table says, 'is that enough?'

Some people have their doubts, but invariably, the standard reply will come - 'it's ok, if there isn't enough, we can always order more.'

So many times, there just isn't enough food to go around; but then, once everything has been eaten, who would REALLY order a second round? You end up going home a little hungry, and before you know it, you're awake at midnight, trying to think of where to go for supper, where you'll have to spend even MORE money.

I know, you're not rich, neither am I, which is why I've decided to publish a friend's (we'll call him Mr. QH) secrets to eating more at a Chinese restaurant (with my expert commentary, of course).

1) PICK YOUR OPPONENTS.

This rule only applies in very select circumstances, but it is fundamental to eating as much as you can. There is a very simple rule of thumb; 65% of the female population is permanently on diet, with 50% of the remaining 35% being able to eat very little. Thus, only about 17.5% of women eat as much as men. You have to watch out for guys, especially fat guys or atheletes. Both are very dangerous due to their healthy appetites. Of course, forewarned is forearmed; the more you know about eating habits, the better you can gauge which table at a free-seating banquet to sit at. If there are many empty seats, see who's sitting there - pretty girls always attract more male company. The best bet is a table almost filled with girls.

Here are some sample tables:

2) GETTING STARTED

Usually, at chinese dinners, there is always soup, be it sharks' fin, or a poorer imitation. Soon after the soup, they usually serve a cold dish; which do you eat first?

Many of you will answer the soup. YOU ARE WRONG! You may argue that the soup, once cold, will not be nice. However, you are forgetting that the cold dish is the first communal dish to be served, just as everyone is hungry. Be sure to get your share! The soup is already yours; if you're lucky, someone at the table might not like their soup and you might even get TWO bowls; the cold dish, however, will always have people willing to eat it. Make sure you eat all the jellyfish you can, before it disappears. Pineapple slices / cherry bits are also quite popular, so be sure to attack those before the other greedy bastards at your table beat you to it.

3) THE MEAL ITSELF: DETERMINING WHAT IS "YOURS"

Here, we move into the real intricacies of this guide. Based on the basic principle outlined above, we already see that some things are 'yours' whereas some things at a dinner are 'communal'. Soup, being individually portioned, is obviously yours. You can thus save it for later, while happily tucking into all the rest of the food. The same also goes for rice. With the dishes in the centre, though, it's slightly harder to tell. Determining what is logically 'yours', therefore, is thus integral to making sure you don't get ripped off.

First, anything with clear-cut portions is easily divisible. For example, let's say there are five chicken wings, and five people eating. You know for sure that one is yours. The same goes for dim sum. If there's four pieces of siu mai, and four of you eating, one is DEFINITELY yours; it's very bad form of other people to deny you your siu mai tasting rights, after all. You can thus safely ignore these dishes in the initial feeding frenzy.

Next, anything with large bones that remain on your plate (chicken / duck / pork chop with bone) or shells (crab, prawn, lobster) are very easy to keep track of. People who eat a lot of these will immediately be recognizable from their large pile of animal remnants on their plates. Thus, you can go slow with these things. If you see people piling up large piles of shells, be sure to ask them, in as pointed a fashion as you can, something to the effect of, 'hey, is the chicken nice?'

This will draw attention to their greediness, and they will eat slower, because they will think that everyone is watching them. Seize this opportunity to eat more.

4) HOT PROPERTY

Obviously, some things disappear faster than others. The keropok on the chicken dishes, for example, is obviously a hot commodity. This must always be terminated with extreme prejudice. You can keep some on your plate, but be aware that keropok is very visible. Better to chow down on it as quickly as possible, to avoid a noticeable trail of food. Fish, as well, is usually extremely popular, due to the fact that it's expensive, and also delicious. Regard the image below:

Disclaimer: Mr. QH says it's often good to let keropok go, since it's yucky, and also cheap. Go for the fish. Keropok can be made at home, and is for little kids. Real eaters know better.

As you can see, the fish has been totally devoured early on in the dinner, as well as most of the keropok on the chicken. Hopefully, this makes it obvious which elements you should target first.

As a general rule of thumb, however, meat with no bones is always hot property. Don't worry about your rice, you can always eat it with the onions later, since nobody eats the onions. You're a growing individual, and you need your protein.

5) YOUR PLATE

Your plate can obviously serve as a buffer zone, allowing you to store certain 'hot' commodities, such as that extra bit of fish, or the little bit of meat. However, anything remaining on your plate for too long can become painfully conspicuous. Always remember, clear your plate early, clear it often, and try to get it discreetly changed by the service whenever possible so that you look like you've been eating less than you have.

6) ADVANCED TACTICS

One of the best things about Chinese cuisine is the ability to serve other people ... with the things you already know are rightfully theirs. Give the biggest eater at the table his share of the chicken early, and he'll have to eat it, or appear greedy, ungrateful, or both. This will occupy him, and free you up to eat all the hotplate beef, you tricky bugger.

Also, don't hold back on ordering something extra. If you feel like having a little glass of wine, indulge yourself. When the bill comes, few people will be thick skinned enough to point out that you had more than your fair share, but hey, you'll go home just that much happier.

Along similar lines, when doing the ordering, don't hesitate to order something you like, which isn't very popular around the table. Always obey your craving for pig liver, chicken feet or random intestines. Challenge your eating buddies to be adventurous, enjoy most of the adventure yourself, then split the bill cleanly down the middle. Sweet.

Other advanced tactics include drawing attention subtly to big eaters. Be sure not to be too obvious; if you appear to care too much, the game is up. Gentle ribbing always works; some other greedy person at the table will get in on the act, and soon you will be able to distract attention away from yourself to the other big eaters, while you chow down.

7) FINALLY

Always be sure not to point out that you've eaten more than everyone else. You don't want your friends resenting you when the bill comes along. Wait for other people to comment on their state of satiety, especially if you suspect everyone else ate less than you. If you've stuffed yourself silly at everyone else's expense, and they want to go for round 2, always cite being tired, rather than full, as your excuse for heading home to sleep off those well fought for calories.

Hopefully, this helped you in your quest to stuff your face. Until next time, dig in, pig out and get more bang for your buck!

Today's Blog Babe: The Mail Order Bride; she would have made it to the original post, but then, seeing as to how she made all her livejournal archives friends only, there are occasional picture droughts on her site. Don't be like that, leh, miss, we're all very friendly, you know.

What Blogs Are Made For

2005-04-11T01:42:00.000-05:00

Thanks to the fact that I've now been brown-ed (ok, technically this is the second time he's linked me, and the third if you count the sexyblogger meme, but who's counting?), I've gotten a flood of suggestions for sites I should check out, and questions as to why I didn't include so and so or whatever. Being the ridiculously free person that I am, I've looked over most of the new applicants, and have decided that if I were to list every good looking female blogger out there, I might as well turn this into a goddamn chiobu blogger directory. However, to do all these hots babes justice, I've decided to start a new "blog babe" addendum to my posts. If Mr. Miyagi has surf stops, I suppose I can have something similar, albeit with a slightly different criteria (actually, judging from his eye for beauty, perhaps our criteria might not be that dissimilar).

And yes, finally I can get back to writing whatever the fuck I feel like. As it should be.

I hope you noticed the template changes, because if you haven't, you must be fucking blind, and that would make it hard for you to read this blog. If you actually ARE blind, and someone is reading this blog to you, I apologize (actually, I don't, but hey, the guy reading this, don't tell the blind guy, because he's a fucking dick anyway). I was on campus today, looking at my blog (I'm obsessed with myself, and my blog) on internet explorer, and I realized the font was so big it looked like it came out of a 3-year-old's story book. To cater to all you internet explorer users, I've decided to change my font to something smaller, even though my better instinct tells me to hit you on the head and tell you to change to firefox already, because I use firefox, and it's cool. Tell me if you like the new colour scheme, since being colour deficient, I can't really tell if the colours go well together. Kenny Sia has already stated his preference for this new colour scheme, saying that my background colour reminds him of cum. Thanks, Kenny, thanks a lot. I suppose this is fitting, though, given the title of this site.

If you haven't surmised by now, I'm a fairly random person. While this particular blog has been operation for a little under a month, I've actually been blogging for close to 3 years now, and started my first website somewhere in 1999. Seeing as to how, for the first time, my traffic is finally booming, I'm beginning to ask myself certain questions about blogging, such as 'when will I start getting money / marriage proposals / money / jobs / mailbox flooded with emails from hot babes / money / money / money' already? I've resigned myself to the fact that, in all likelihood, this will never happen. So, the question is, what the hell do I do with my blog? Every time I talk to people about blogs (lately I do this a lot, since blogging is my latest obsession), they say things like, 'oh, my life is boring, I don't have anything to blog about.'

What, you think my life is interesting, is it? To be honest, I doubt anybody's life is THAT interesting. It's all a matter of how you write about it, how much you play up situations. Boring lives don't make blogs boring, boring people do. Increasingly, I find that blogging is, essentially, another means of writing for an audience. Don't give me this rubbish about 'blogging for blogging's sake'; that's fucking stupid. Blogging, in itself, can't be intrinsincally rewarding, unless you have a fetish for keyboards or computer screens. Wanking is intrinsically rewarding. Eating is intrinsically rewarding. Drugs are intrinsically rewarding (THOUGH THEY ARE BAD FOR YOU, OK, SO DON'T TRY THEM). Blogging, however, must be done for a purpose - there must be an audience you're trying to reach, and there must be something you want to say to them.

I'm still trying to figure out what my message is, and who I'm trying to tell it to, but for now, let's assume that my message, in very rough terms, is 'I'm fucking awesome' and my intended audience is 'the whole fucking world'.

There you have it, there's my mission statement. To tell the whole fucking world that I'm awesome.

What's yours?

Today's Blog Babe: Melissa Lim, courtesy of Timothy; because she's such an interesting read. No relation whatsoever to the fact that she's a chiobu, or that there are pretty pictures of her here and here.

Oh, special mention to Sheena for her '"irresistable combination" of "beauty and brains". I'm quoting her, here, but that shouldn't stop you, because we all know confidence is incredibly sexy.

Happiness is Warm Rice

2005-04-10T03:25:00.000-05:00

Before today's entry, I just have to clarify a couple of things from my xiaxue killers post. First, the whole thing wasn't exactly meant to be a beauty pageant. While the bloggers in question definitely had to be pretty, I was also looking for certain elements that they shared in common with xiaxue which could possibly make them popular. In particular, I was looking for lots of photos, as well as a readable blog. Added points were given for the bloggers in question giving the illusion of availability or something to that effect. People like Little Miss Drinkalot or the gorgeous Adrianna simply don't post enough pictures to qualify in this category, even though they must undoubtably be babes, if only because their england is so blardee powderful.

Anyway, from the comments, I've found a blog that I missed out on:

Shoe Sessions: Daphne is an undergraduate at Purdue, and a certified babe. Also attached, but then, hey, being a chiobu like her, it makes sense, doesn't it? Purdue isn't that far away.

Honorable mention to Princess Gabrielle, who is also a chiobu.

Oh, yeah, I also happened to stumble across Sandra Ng's sister's (at least, she lists Sandra as her sister) blog; I've been enjoying that blog as well, but, seeing as to how its last entry was a plea to strangers to stop spreading her blog around, I'm not going to list it out of respect. Go ask Sandra, lah.

Ok, finally, on to my post:

I cooked dinner again tonight. I've been cooking at home a lot lately; the flatmate's boyfriend is away in Greece for the quarter, so the prodigal daughter has started coming home more frequently, giving me more opportunities to cook. While the flatmate wasn't around today, I invited a couple friends over and we had a simple, chinese dinner. I made pepper beef with asparagus, and stir-fried chicken, if anyone's interested. In my efforts to keep the food warm until my friends showed up, the meat dried up a little, but it was still pretty tasty.

I know, not everybody wants to read about my dinner, but I think it's important to talk about the things you take for granted when you're living with your families. While most people cite their hectic schedules as their reason for eating out through most of college, I find that it just doesn't make sense to cook when there's nobody to cook for. The good food I eat alone somehow just doesn't cut it; I find myself longing for a certain familiar set of walls with every bite of the eggs I scramble for myself, or the noodles I eat in front of my computer.

I've always believed that there's a very elaborate ritual that surrounds dinner, especially the dinners you share with your family. When I think of living with someone, I invariably associate this with eating together. Flatmates who don't share meals, it seems, are in many ways strangers; through eating together, you become so much more like family.

I once read an essay for chinese class which described happiness as a warm bowl of rice; for the author, the smell of cooking rice reminded him of the warmth of his family, of the depth of emotion that is not often expressed, and felt most acutely in its loss.

Sitting around the table today, chatting with a group of friends, I felt a bit of something that I feel so rarely now, living away from my home - I felt the warmth of a shared meal. I ate my warm, white rice, scooping it out of my faithful rice cooker and had one of those moments where for once, you really appreciate the depth of meaning that a bowl of warm rice can convey.

If my family is reading this, I miss you guys. Every day.

Everyone else, you can pretend you never read that. I'm not actually soft like that. I was lying. I'm a tough guy, I am.

Ok, maybe I can't be tough all the time.

Xiaxue Killers

2005-04-09T03:34:00.000-05:00

Any time someone stumbles upon a winning formula, it's bound to be repeated. The release of Wolfenstein 3D was the beginning of the first person shooter genre in the gaming world (ok, dorky example, sue me); boybands and teenage divas seem to rise and fall, but the winning formula of catchy, manufactured lyrics and saccharine, airbrushed good looks never fails. Judging from the steady increase in visitors to her blog, Xiaxue's rise to blogging stardom has been no fluke - there's definitely something going right in the way she maintains her online journal. Some might argue that it's all about her controversial, in-your-face, yet identifiably Singaporean style of writing. Some might argue that her success is due to her photoshopped good looks. Others may argue that she just instinctively knows how to court an internet audience.

Whatever the case may be, the fact remains that there are tonnes of blogs out there, and loads of attractive, young, female bloggers whose day in the sun may be just on the horizon. Who knows? With a couple strokes of internet fortune and a little time, we could witness the emergence of more blogging superstars in the mould of xiaxue. In fact, it could be argued that some bloggers like this exist already, waiting to be discovered. They may have been surf-stopped by Mr. Miyagi; some of them may have even been brown-ed, and one day, we could find ourselves worshipping the ground they blog on.

Today, bigfuck.blogspot.com takes you through a couple blogs which (in my, ostensibly bloated opinion) are on the up and up. While they might not be imitating xiaxue, and might even (in some rare cases) hate her, these blogs are drawn together by a couple common qualities:

1) Attractive, relatively young, female owners. While this is obviously not a prerequisite for blogging success, it definitely helps the cause of the website in general. I mean, who doesn't like looking at pretty girls? Even straight girls like looking at pretty girls. Related to this is:

2) Lots of pictures, particularly pictures of their sexy, sexy selves. If you've got it, flaunt it; there's something about a blog full of pictures of an attractive girl that you read about that makes mens' ... err ... hair stand. Nothing reminds you that you're reading a pretty girl's blog like seeing pictures of said pretty girl. I'll be the first to admit; it's pretty hot.

3) Engaging writing style. Even the most attractive pictures in the world could not make up for utterly braindead writing. There has to be a tangible person behind the writing. This is fairly self-explanatory.

4) Some semblance of a real life, and the willingness to share the juicy details online. One of xiaxue's best blog qualities is that she comes across as, above all, a real human being ... one that some talented punter might impress, or even, if he gets really lucky, get to meet. This is made possible by the fact that she blogs about her life, and you don't get the feeling that she's holding back. What could be more attractive than that?

There are a couple more minor points, but those are the main ones, and I've rambled on enough already. So, here we go, some blogs that could possibly be immensely popular in the near future:

DISCLAIMER: In case you guys were wondering, none of these ladies knows about this post as of yet, and I'm probably a little too lazy to tell them about it. Hopefully none of them mind, or think I'm a stalker. Then again, not like I really care either way. Whatever.

My tusheez

Silly or not silly, celly's definitely a babe.

After being a relative unknown in the blogging scene, things are starting to come together for Celly. Her post on the importance of appearances has gotten her linked by mr brown, mr miyagi, and Cowboy Caleb, among others.

Amidst rocketing traffic on her blog, Celly has continued to churn out amusing, humourous, and occasionally scatalogical entries that have kept her readers entertained and subscriptions to her blog on the up and up. She may be crass (like any of us care) and she may be a little flighty, but that's just part of her charm. In a year or two, I wouldn't be surprised if Celly's stock on the blog market goes through the roof.

Appeal: Anyone willing to wade through a barrage of "fyucks" (yes, fyucks) and KNNs to read about shits (wombat and human), genitalia and other finer things in life.

Picture Watch: Celly isn't afraid to look silly in her pictures, but she keeps those webcam shots coming, and the vast majority of them look damn fine.

If She Were Queen: We'd do our kegels, kebois, occasionally cuss in Japanese, and be damn happy about it.

wurh.com

ci'en exudes cool, and epitomizes hot

Wurh.com has been in operation since mid 2004, and it's definitely gathered a following of its own. Ci'en is obviously one of the smarter cookies on the blogging scene, as evidenced by her flowing prose and the fact that she's reading law in Bristol (don't harass her guys, she might SUE you then you know!). She's eloquent, poised, and armed with her trusty digital camera; her photolog archive is worth a visit, even if it doesn't contain a single shot of her fetching self.

Ci'en also frequents a whole slew of concerts; fans may be interested to know that she's heading off to Glastonbury. As if seeing class acts like Massive Attack and Portishead wasn't enough. If you're reading this, miss, let it be known that we're all jealous.

Apart from being surf-stopped by Mr Miyagi a staggering three times, wurh.com is currently number 19 on Rice Bowl Journals' Top 100 list. Ci'en has also been quoted on their site, something she reckoned was "the closest thing to blogging glitterati" she's going to get; who knows, Ci'en, your star may be ascendant.

Appeal: Anyone who appreciates well written prose and the occasional barrage of concert pictures. It seems that this site oozes cool, so be prepared to get your cyber-hipster-wear out. Or not. Whatever.

Picture Watch: While you might have to wait for pictures of the woman herself, when they come, they're worth the wait. I think she looks particularly fetching in this series.

If She Were Queen: We'd listen to better music, speak better english, and all be on the next flight to Britain.

Air

Linda Chia is a swinging single, we wish we could get in the swing with her.

While 20-something Linda Chia confesses not feeling young any more, she's still definitely indulging in the vices of youth, smoking a little too much, enjoys the occasional drink, and is even working towards her motorcycle licence. She might feel the clock ticking down on her days in the sun, but this doesn't mean she's looking to call an end to singlehood and settle down. She enjoys her independence, and damn it, she's going to make it last.

We first saw Linda during the sexyblogger craze; Mr Miyagi, with his knack for sniffing out beauty, put her picture up in one of his posts. While her blog counter hasn't exactly been jumping jumping, it sure deserves to be, given her intensely readable musings on life, motorcycle practicals and the indicators that she's not exactly a teenager any more. Fans will have to be forewarned though; she's not easy to impress. Firstly, she's constantly surrounded by attractive men, and remains immune to their charms. Next, she lives with a motorbike racing champion.

Not that that should stop any of you from dreaming, of course.

Appeal: Anyone who appreciates the slightly more mature, considered sort of blog. People who can't stand young punks.

Picture Watch: There seems to be a pretty consistent flow of pictures about this site. And yes, they all look good.

If She Were Queen: We'd all have to get on our bikes.

Sandralicious
Photo updated at Sandra's request; anything to make you happy, dahling

She's too sexy to care, but we forgive her

Sandra Ng is fresh out of Ngee Ann Polytechnic, and has a pretty, pink blog. There are a couple things about this blog, though. First, there are no comments; all electronic slobbering (including mine) must be put on Sandra's tagboard. Furthermore, it seems that the archives have mysteriously disappeared. Being the clever gal that she is, though, I'm sure she'll have them up and running in no time. Being the clever guy that I am, of course, I managed to hardwire the link for them. You can see February here, and hopefully figure out how to get beyond that yourself.

Anyway, Sandra is sweet. She likes cute furry animals, and makes food for her friends and family. She's so sweet, she even had a stalker. This obviously did not amuse Sandra (nor should it have). With looks like hers, though, it's no wonder. Sandra, unlike every other girl as attractive as her, was not featured by Mr. Miyagi. Her only claim to fame was a brief listing in the sexyblogger meme. Nonetheless, she's definitely worth a whirl, and she's single to boot. Apparently, though, she already gets scores of emails asking her out, so those tactics won't work. To get this girl's attention, fans will just have to do better.

And no, we don't mean stalking.

Appeal: Those who love sweet, cute girls. Don't we all? Yes, yes we do.

Picture Watch: When you get to the site, there are a whole bunch of pictures waiting for you down the sidebar. Sandra says 'A Picture Speaks a Thousand Words'. I say those words are all somewhere along the lines of 'hot'.

If She Were Queen: The world would be a better, nicer, pinker place for it.

Alright, that pretty much concludes this installment. It's tiring work, reviewing blogs; here are some of the blogs I shortlisted, just in case you're wondering:

Out of My Mind; while Joewei seems like a veritable babe, her tendency to swirlify her face makes it impossible to verify. Worth a visit, though.

Shelly Lives; You've seen her brown-ed, but the fact that this girl is married puts her too far out of the available bracket, in my opinion. I could be wrong though, and you could get beaten up by a commando. You're free to browse wherever.

amnezia's xanga; she's definitely cute, but the pictures are just a little too scarce. Besides, she apparently has a boyfriend, and that's never fun, is it.

Bohemia Bunnie; while even Cowboy Caleb was smitten by her, the fact that you have to cycle between lynn's photoblog and other blog is just a little too challenging for this cybersurfer.

Note that this is by no means an exhaustive llist. You can always email me recommendations; I'm always up for a good, you know, read.

Fuckety Fuck Fuck Fuck

2005-04-08T04:04:00.000-05:00

I am pissed off at blogger. It refuses to post my post. I need to sleep, I haven't slept yet. I am angry. Like a monster.

An angry monster.

Fucking blogger, let me post my fucking post.

Fuckhead.

Edit: you can see the latest post on my livejournal

Awesome Pictures, Part 1

2005-04-07T03:20:00.000-05:00

Nothing to say today, so I decided to post a shitload of pictures. I was going to write some random entry about my life, but then I figured it would be much more fun to show you random pictures. Ready? Let's go!

For the record, let me post a picture of my flatmate. Let the records show that I live with a pretty girl:

Yes, that's me putting out a cigarette. No, I don't smoke any more. I quit already. Yes, I still get cravings. Bloody hell, what do you expect, right? You think I woke up one day and said, 'ok, smoking sucks, fuck it' and then stopped smoking? No. Smoking is damn hard to quit. Some mornings I wake up, thinking, 'if I just smoked one today, it would be ok.'

No, it wouldn't. I would be addicted again. Fuck.

Here are pictures of me smoking, in which you will see how smoking makes you less handsome. The first picture is me saying, 'hey, lungs, fuck you. I fucking hate you, lungs.'

Notice how I look less handsome than usual. This is my opinion. I am very clever. Thus, I am right. Here is me saying, 'hey, lungs, suck this, bitches'

Notice my hair is long in these pictures. This is because I was a smoker. You might be saying, 'there is no logic to that' but there is. Everything bad about me when I was smoking was because I was a smoker. Now everything good that happens to me is because I quit smoking. Don't contradict me, or I'll start smoking again, and you will go to hell for tempting me, you bastard.

Some of you might know that I worked at a childrens' home in Tokyo over the summer. Here's a picture from our trip to Mt. Fuji:

If you're observant, you'll notice that I still have long hair in this picture. Somehow, though, I look less ugly. Maybe it's because the wind is blowing my hair and it looks cool. Maybe it's because you can't see my face. Whatever. That girl facing the camera? That's Nene-chan. I know, funny name. They're Japanese; deal with it. Anyway, she's the cutest little girl in the world. Here's a picture of her and Emi-chan:

Those little kids were ridiculously cute. I feel bad for not writing to them more often; I hope they don't think I've forgotten them. Sometimes, I tell my friends that I like working with kids. My friends assume that I'm a pedophile, because for some strange reason, my friends think I am a bad person. I blame this on cigarettes. Fucking cigarettes. I would gush more about how beautiful these children were, and how much my life was changed by working with them, but none of you are here to read mushy shit. To compensate, I will type "fuck" ten times:

Fuck, fuck fuck, fuckfuckfuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck. Fuck.

Ok, maybe 11, but nobody's counting.

This is a picture from one of my Japan trips, just for the fuck of it:

I think this is in Nara or Kyoto; I forget where. Anyway, my friend was pissed off that I kept stopping to take photos, and was very reluctant to take photos of me. Thus, I have, like, maybe two photos of me in these cities, and they both look like shit. Damn it, you travel and travel, and the least you could have is a fucking picture of you in some random street, right? Is that too much to ask? Fuck.

Fortunately, my photoshop skills are damn good.

Let the record state that my finger was in Japan. Yeah, that's right. I'd have edited myself into the photo but hey man, I'm fucking lazy.

Alright, it's late. Sleepy time.

Thanks for looking at my random pictures. I would say something like, 'I hope you enjoyed them' but hey, whatever.

2005-04-05T23:28:00.000-05:00

Singapore: Best Place in the World to be Singaporean.

Today I want to talk about home. Yes, perhaps I'm a little home sick. Yes, perhaps it's been too long since I've had mee siam. Yes, perhaps I've been reading blogs of chiobus like Celly (who now even kena brown-ed), Sandra Ng (who looks damn spicy in her bikini) and of course our evergreen Cheng Yan Yan and thinking, wah, back home really got a lot of hot babes, man. Maybe I've just been thinking about Singapore since I started reading so many Singaporean blogs.

Nonetheless, I just want to say how, to be fair, Singapore is a pretty cool place. While bitching about the status quo seems to be a big pasttime amongst the Singaporean community, I figure that, deep down inside, SIngaporeans are deeply proud of who they are and where they come from. I've always thought that countries have global brand names - you know, people think Japan and think pokemon, sushi, love hotels and banzai; people think Korea and maybe think about Winter Sonata, bibimbap and I don't know, Tae Kwon Do. You think USA and you have cowboys and MacDonalds and silly things like that. What, however, do people think of when they think of Singapore? I'm sure Singaporeans studying abroad are kind of sick of questions like, 'I hear Singapore is really strict; you can't chew gum there, right?' or 'is it true that they cane you in Singapore for littering?'

At first, when confronted with such ignorance, I got really pissed off. I figured, if everyone was so ignorant, why not let them continue being a bunch of stupid buffoons. Laughing at buffoons is funny. It makes me feel good. Conversations would go like this:

Random dude: So, I hear they cane you in Singapore for littering.
Me: No, they don't.
Random: Really? I thought so.
Me: Yeah, they strip you naked and shackle you in public so everyone can laugh at the size of your dick.
Random: No, you're shitting me.
Me: Actually I am. Everyone knows Asians like to castrate people. That's what they do.
Random: Really? Harsh.
Me: We don't f*ck around, us SIngaporeans.

Eventually, though, I learnt that you can't really blame ignorance on the ignorant, as much as I'd like to. There comes a time when you think to yourself, enough is enough. Now, when people ask me stupid questions about Singapore, I've learnt to try and shamelessly promote my country, point out things that are good about it. Look at places like Jamaica. While they're a piss-small island, everyone thinks Jamaica and at least goes, 'yah man...rasta' or some nonsense like that. Singapore, with all its quirks, needs to be promoted. I dream of the day when every ang moh thinks Singapore and goes, 'eh dun be liddat leh,' or perhaps, 'kao peh lah cheebye!'

Yes, like that.

How will this happen? Well, first, it's time to spread Singlish. I think that, all things told, Singlish is an awesome representation of our culture. I know, it's annoying to hear white people who don't know where their lahs and lehs go saying stupid things. But hey, to promote awareness, you first must make people aware, right? A lot of my white friends have taken to saying 'cheebye'; I know, it's not the most polite phrase to teach people. This probably came about because I don't like saying cheese.

White dudes: Say cheese!
Me: Cheese simi lan! Cheebye lah, cheese!
White dudes: What?
Me: You say cheese, I say cheebye.
White: Is cheebye Singaporean for cheese?
Me: No, cheebye is Hokkien for vagina.

Nonetheless, they still seem to say it exclusively when we take pictures.

Slowly, though, my white friends have moved beyond cheebye. Some even know when lah should and should not be said (ok, maybe roughly only, but still can lah). One day, perhaps these people will learn enough Singlish to understand two Singaporeans talking (which many of my white friends say is completely unintelligible).

One day, I think maybe Singaporean will be as imitated as those Jamaican slangs, if all us Singaporean bloggers unite and make our presence felt on the blogging community. I think the Singaporean blogging scene is coming along quite nicely - a lot of people have, to my surprise, proved intensely readable. All we need is to get global readership, and proliferate our cultrue.

I know, some might be saying, why proliferate our culture?

Well, it's better than hamburgers, don't you think? I figure it's time us Singaporean minds get together to make our presence felt. We're a small island, but we have a distinct culture and a burgeoning, uniquely Singaporean sense of humour. Singlish is more than just a blend of disparate languages; there's a distinctive discourse in Singlish. Look at the hokkien words that are incorporated, which in turn have been borrowed from Malay - I'm talking about how ah bengs say 'su ka' for like, 'ba lu' for new and talk about how they 'beh tahan' the weather. Anyone who has heard a Malay friend say 'kao peh lah!' will see that our tongues have blended together, making something unique and special (ok, maybe Malaysia also can understand, as can be seen from this hokkien blog, which I've recently gotten addicted to, but whatever), something which should be shared with the rest of the world.

Yeah, so it's time for us to start speaking Singlish, and letting everyone else catch on. It'll be good exercise for their brains anyway, hor?

2005-04-05T02:15:00.000-05:00

Mr Miyagi, Mr. Brown and Adri are all plugging the latest Cowboy Caleb post on how we should make love not war or some shit like that. While I laud the efforts of these very noble individuals in making a nice, loving blogosphere or whatnot, I have to say I actually kind of am the sort of person who doesn't mind watching a blog being torn to shreds. Note that I wouldn't actually do such a thing, seeing as to how I'm both a) fucking self-obsessed (if I was so free to hate on someone's blog, I'd at most do it on my own blog and increase MY traffic, instead of letting said fucker enjoy a traffic increase from my publicity) and also b) incurably lazy (hating on blogs is damn troublesome, you know).

That being said, though, I'm getting sick of the whole 'be yourself' or 'be consistent notion' getting passed along the Singapore blogging circles. Truth be told, screw that shit. It fucking sucks. The vast majority of blogs I read are really painfully fucking boring. I'm not saying my blog is the best or something (even though, being me, I think it's pretty fucking awesome); I'm just saying, compared to all the crap you read in other blogs, this shit is relatively less stinky. Since my site is so incredibly awesome, I decided to submit it to Best Blogs in Asia; having already submitted it to ricebowl journals, singapore weblogs topsites and a whole slew of other blog directories, however, the prickly bastards at best blogs in asia rejected my site; here's an excerpt from the email they sent me:

Just to reiterate my reply: fuck you, best blogs in asia! I know, I'm being bitter and petty. Seriously, though, fuck them. Just because my site is titled 'The Big Fuck,' apparently makes it too coarse for their pretty little site. I may be a little vulgar, but hey, I'm not as vulgar as my new blogging hero MasaMania, and he made it to their rankings. I suspect their rankers don't even actually read the goddamn sites, because they're too busy masturbating or something. Fucking wankers. That being said, MasaMania is on the BOTTOM of their rankings, showing that they all suck balls at best blogs in asia. On top of that, their domain name is 'misohoni' - what the hell is this? Some stupid white person probably watched Full Metal Jacket and thinks all Asians speak like that. What an asshole! I am angry. Granted, I would be less angry if they had said 'we like your site, we think it rocks,' but nonetheless, this just gives me another reason to bash them. While I respect Cowboy Caleb and want to do my bit to increase the peace, I have to say this to http://www.misohoni.com:

Blog directories, especially those with such lofty titles, as 'best blogs in asia' are supposed to help us separate the wheat from the chaff, they're supposed to filter out the funny, the insightful, the well-written and index them, so you don't have to cycle through the tedious, the unintelligible and the poorly designed bullshit you see elsewhere on the internet. Ever since every three legged donkey and his mother gained the capability to publish their daily pile of excrement on these weblogs we've been reading, there has been a glut of fucking retards telling the whole world what colour their boyfriends' faeces was this morning or how many times they argued with the bitch sitting next to them in class, and doing it in fucking unintelligible english, too. I'm someone who spends a lot of time on the internet reading random blogs, so I'd appreciate it if the really really crappy ones just exploded or something. It would make me that much happier a cyber surfer. Seriously. Thus, I think some criticism is good. Naturally, I only think it's ok to hate on people I think suck. Here are some rough guidelines on blogs I think suck by default:

1) Blogs with too many flashy plug-ins.
Seriously, what the fuck are these kids thinking? I don't care if you love the latest teeny boppy boyband video (actually, I do, since it's evidence that you suck and should die), but I sure as fuck don't want to see it on your website. If I wanted to play music, I'd do it in winamp. If I wanted to see a music video, I'd go and download it. Are these people thinking that I'll be impressed by their automatically loading mtvs they stole off some other site? Maybe they expect me to kiss their ass because their site is so cool, seeing as to how it plays music. Maybe, however, they are fucking butt-heads and should die.

Similarly, flash animations and shit like that, yeah, that pisses me off too. The occasional animated gif is pretty awesome (for an example of this, see xiaxue's phone sex post). However, I don't want to see your whole fucking website vibrating. If I wanted a whole bunch of vibrating shit on my screen, I'd buy a bunch of vibrating dildos and tape them to my monitor. Seriously, fuckheads - next time you make a blog, less flashy bullshit, more content, please.

2) Poorly designed blogs.
The vast majority of fuckhead blogs I see on the internet are cramped into little tiny boxes, require you to press a zillion and one tiny little buttons before you can actually get to their blogs, have ten different custom background images obscuring all the text, or do some other retarded jackass piece of shit stunt like this to piss me off. Here's a word of advice: if you don't know how to use html, get a fucking template and stick with that. I hate those jackasses with illegible blogs. They fucking suck my balls.

That being said, I know it's often hard to wield html. Hell, sometimes I figure I have problems with it myself. I try to keep the layout of this site fairly simple, but I know sometimes there may be some formatting issues. If you ever see these on my blog, email me about it. You can swear at me. I can take it.

But yeah, all you fuckers with anime angels or pictures of the ocean in their backgrounds - you fucking suck. I can't read the shit you say, and even when I can, I automatically think, "man, this guy is a fucking retard." Maybe this makes you happy, because you are a fucking retard, in which case, I have nothing to say. Maybe you think you are cool regardless. I think you're wrong, and I'm always right. Fuck you.

3) Blogs which bore me.
Ok, here I'm walking on kind of tenuous ground, because there is a lot of good shit out there which bores my fucking pants off. For starters, anything about politics usually bores me, because, quite frankly, I don't give a flying fuck. I know, some self righteous asshole is going to say, 'oh, you don't give a fuck about politics, what are you going to do when the world is ruled by fascists and they rape your mother, etc. etc.'

Hey, asshole, shut the fuck up. I know politics is important, I just really can't bring myself to pay attention to people talking about politics for more than five seconds. Blame it on the fact that I have a very small brain, if that makes you feel better. Basically, every time I hear a conversation about politics, I start thinking about football scores, then hot girls, then I start getting pissed off that I have to sit there while people go on and on about politics. It bores me silly. Thus, when I'm surfing the internet, I really don't like reading about politics. I'd much rather be looking at ninjashot.com (NOT WORKSAFE, BY THE WAY). For those of you who know what ninjashot.com is, and think I'm disgusting, here's a little confession I have to make:

Other things which bore me include the majority of humanity's sad and pathetic existences. Here again, I have to make a little disclaimer. Ironically enough, a large number of blogs I actually do read and love are about sad and pathetic lives. In the end, it's all about style. If you make me laugh, you win, you are king. You could write about your genital warts or your girlfriend's eyelashes, but if you make it funny, you win. If you're a shit writer, and you write about shit, your blog will be shit. This is due to a well known scientific principle called Big Fuck's first law, which states that shit + shit = shit. QED, fuck off.

Alright, to make myself seem like less of an asshole, I'm not saying that all these blogs should be shut down. What I AM saying, however, is that Best Blogs in Asia sucks major donkey dick, and that the rankings are totally crap. I checked out most of their tops blogs, and they are absolute rubbish, with too many embedded music videos, too many kiddy anime pictures and less collective intelligence than a retarded siberian hamster with a learning disability. Yes, I'm bitter. Yes, I think I'm hot shit. Let me reiterate, however, that I think it's one thing to publish your wankazoid blog for your wankazoid friends and have them read it in your daily electronic wankathon, but it's a totally different thing when all your wankazoid friends read your stupid ass bullshit and say, 'oh my god, this is awesome' when it fucking isn't. Spare me this bullshit.

Maybe I'm expecting too much, because the vast majority of the population is a bunch of fuckheads. I suppose, however, that this is the cruel nature of life. To all the fuckheads out there, I can only say this:

Yeah, fuck you.

Alright, I've gone on for a fair bit on that, so I guess I'll have to save my views on Singlish for another day. Just so you know, the calm one and mr. brown recently posted a bit about Singlish. I love Singlish. I have a lot to say about it. This will all have to wait for my next post. For now, though, people hoping to define things in Singlish should refer to the wikipedia entry on Singlish, because it's really well written.

Ok, finally, housekeeping. I noticed that yesterday (4th of April) my site received more trafific than it ever has in its history. Here's evidence:

During that same time, I got a measly 8 comments. While site traffic may have fallen for my April Fool's joke, I don't see why more people have been leaving less comments. I suppose, in short, I'm asking you all, very nicely, to please leave comments. It's ok if all you have to say is 'you are cool' or 'I hate you and hope you die.' I really don't care. I just want to know that someone out there is reading this shit. That being said, thanks to all the people who leave comments (yes, even you bastards who say fuck you, it's kind of funny); please keep doing it, because then I will feel like I am special, and everyone likes feeling special, even though they really aren't and should die.

Ok that's all.

Edit: While I may be ranting at a bunch of bloggers in general, I have to make a couple exceptions:

1) I don't mind when little kids have poorly designed sites. I don't hold immaturity against 12 year olds, ok? I'm not a retard. My brother's blog isn't exactly the best designed blog in the world, but I don't hold it against him.

2) I have double standards. I admit it. Some people I give the benefit of the doubt, just because they are cool by default. Examples of this are people I know in real life, or people who post lots of scantily clad pictures of themselves all over, or people who link me, because they are obviously cool. I know, I'm a hypocrite. I've never denied being a hypocrite. I think it's human nature.

2005-04-04T02:10:00.000-05:00

I almost subscribed to blogthings today, but I didn't. For this, I'm proud of myself.

Some people might be saying, well, blogthings is quite fun what; you know, you can say that you're like 35% normal, or your seduction style is "pulling off her panties until she consents to have sex with you", or your porn star name is "Jerry Hunglikedonkeydick" or some shit like that, but you know, this sort of thing is only interesting the first 2 or 3 times you see it. After reading xangas and livejournals extensively, I've decided that, well, blogthings (or quizilla quizzes, or whatever other retarded things people put on their websites) just really don't do it for me.

Unless, of course, nobody has ever seen them before. I figure, if people are going to be retarded online quiz fiends, they might as well put up quizzes I've never seen before. That way, it won't irritate the shit out of me when I see them for the 10 billionth time. I'm fucking sick of knowing whether you're Frodo, or Gandalf, or Rogue, or Ali Baba. Why do you want so many identities? Even if I took the Lord of the Rings personality test and they said I was Legolas, I still wouldn't be fucking Legolas. No chiobus would suddenly think I looked like Orlando Bloom and want to jump my pants, damn it. This makes me fucking unsatisfied.

Yeah, basically, if you need to put up some stupid sort of quiz on your journal, why not put this up instead:

What type of retarded online quiz fiend are you?

1. Why the fuck do you take online quizzes?
a) Because I want everybody to know how special I am.
b) Because I am always amazed at the results
c) Because I'm trying to find myself.
d) Don't you think it's quite fun? It's quite fun, what!

2. That's it. I don't want to tax your brain with another question.
a) Ok.
b) Ok.
c) Ok.
d) Ok.

SCORING:

If your answer to question 1 was a:

You are a FUCKING WANKER

You take quizzes to show how awesome you are. Well, here's
a news flash, hot shot: you're a fucking wanker.

Quick; quick - go share this with all your retarded friends! Just copy and paste the contents of this table:

<table width=400 align=center border=1 bordercolor=black
cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2>
<tr><td bgcolor=#66CCFF align=center>
<font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif"
style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'>
<b>You are a FUCKING WANKER</b></font></td></tr>
<tr><td bgcolor=#FFFFFF>

<font color="#000000">
<img src=http://photos1.blogger.com/img/81/4115/400/
ret00.jpg>
You take quizzes to show how awesome you are. Well, here's
a news flash, hot shot: you're a fucking wanker
</font></td></tr></table>

<div align="center">
<a href="http://bigfuck.blogspot.com/2005/04/i-almost
-subscribed-to-blogthings.html">What Retarded Quiz
Fiend Are You?</a>
</div>

Ok, for all who answered with option b:

You are an INCREDULOUS TWIT

You tend to think quiz results are amazing, and are constantly stunned by how much they reflect your inner being. What they really reflect is how ridiculously gullible you are. Go back to school, you nincompoop.

Quick; quick - go share this with all your retarded friends! Just copy and paste the contents of this table:

<table width=400 align=center border=1 bordercolor=black
cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2>
<tr><td bgcolor=#66CCFF align=center>
<font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif"
style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'>
<b>You are an INCREDULOUS TWIT</b></font></td></tr>
<tr><td bgcolor=#FFFFFF>

<font color="#000000">
<img src=http://photos1.blogger.com/img/81/4115/
400/ret01.jpg>
You tend to think quiz results are amazing, and are
constantly stunned by how much they reflect your inner
being. What they really reflect is how ridiculously gullible
you are. Go back to school, you nincompoop.
</font></td></tr></table>

<div align="center">
<a href="http://bigfuck.blogspot.com/2005/04/i-
almost-subscribed-to-blogthings.html">What
Retarded Quiz Fiend Are You?</a>
</div>

Moving on, we have option c:

You are an INSECURE DIPSHIT

Sometimes you take quizzes more than once, just to get a result that seems cool. Other times, you reflect on whether quizzes make you cool. Here at bigfuck.blogspot.com, we're going to do you a favour and tell you the truth. You're not cool, you're an insecure little dipshit.

Quick; quick - go share this with all your retarded friends! Just copy and paste the contents of this table:

<table width=400 align=center border=1 bordercolor=black
cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2>
<tr><td bgcolor=#66CCFF align=center>
<font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif"
style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'>
<b>You are an INSECURE DIPSHIT</b></font></td></tr>
<tr><td bgcolor=#FFFFFF>

<font color="#000000">
<img src=http://photos1.blogger.com/img/81/4115/400/
ret02.jpg>
Sometimes you take quizzes more than once, just to get
a result that seems cool. Other times, you reflect on
whether quizzes make you cool. Here at bigfuck.blogspot.
com, we're going to do you a favour and tell you the truth.
You're not cool, you're an insecure little dipshit.
</font></td></tr></table>

<div align="center">
<a href="http://bigfuck.blogspot.com/2005/04/i-almost-
subscribed-to-blogthings.html">What Retarded Quiz Fiend
Are You?</a>
</div>

Finally, we have option d:

You are a GIGGLING BUFFOON

You laugh at really stupid shit, because you have shit for brains. Stop being a dumb fuck and grow some brains, before someone kills your ass.

Quick; quick - go share this with all your retarded friends! Just copy and paste the contents of this table:

<table width=400 align=center border=1 bordercolor=black
cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2>
<tr><td bgcolor=#66CCFF align=center>
<font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif"
style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'>
<b>You are a GIGGLING BUFFOON</b></font></td></tr>
<tr><td bgcolor=#FFFFFF>

<font color="#000000">
<img src=http://photos1.blogger.com/img/81/4115/400
/ret03.jpg>
You laugh at really stupid shit, because you have shit
for brains. Stop being a dumb fuck and grow some brains,
before someone kills your ass.
</font></td></tr></table>

<div align="center">
<a href="http://bigfuck.blogspot.com/2005/04/i-almost-
subscribed-to-blogthings.html">What Retarded Quiz
Fiend Are You?</a>
</div>

See? All the fancy html is done for you some more. What are you waiting for? Go tell everyone which type of retarded quiz fiend you are! I figure, if I had to pick, I'd probably be 'the totally awesome dude'. But that's only because I didn't answer any of the fucking questions.

If you're offended, well, fuck you. I fucking rock. I am awesome. Yeah.

Anyway, on to other business. Here is what I had for lunch:

I know, some of you are thinking, man, that's just some rice, and maybe peas, and kong ba. Well, having not had kong ba in fucking ages, this was, without a doubt, the best kong ba I've ever had. It's all thanks to my number 1 fresh off the boat girl, xiao zhu....'s mother. Or grandmother. Whoever made this food (I was slightly too drunk at the time of receiving it to recall), thank you. It painted a glittering rainbow across my otherwise cloudy day.

Ok. That's all for today.

EDIT: Ok, actually the html is kind of crap; you have to do some formatting and all, but it's not like anyone is actually going to use it, right? If, by some miraculous coincidence, one of you wants to put this shit up on your site, drop me an e-mail and I'll fix it up for you nice nice.

2005-04-03T07:28:00.000-05:00

Ok, for those of you who haven't come across it yet, http://masamania.com/ is really fucking funny. I was going to blog about something stupid like how my couch allegedly had bedbugs or some retarded shit like that, but then I found masamania, and almost peed my pants laughing. Usually internet sites have me grinning a little bit, or maybe chuckling, but when I read this guy's site, I was actually laughing out loud.

You may ask why. Well, first, he writes in engrish. This alone never fails to crack me up. Second, he is one of those crazy Japanese dudes, and says fuck a lot. This makes me think he is funny automatically. Third, well, I don't know. He's just really fucking funny. At least, I think so. I think he might not be 100% work safe, though, so you might want to be careful with that. Or something. Check out his post entitled "Fuck you dick head mother fucker", where he cusses at a lady in front of him during a sumo match. With a title like that, how could you NOT want to check it out, right?

I also started listening to The Dollar Show, which was ok, and they said something in one of their podcasts about how the vast majority of other podcasts out there suck, because they only talk about their really boring lives, and nobody wants to hear about that shit.

Yes, it's true. Nobody wants to hear about peoples' sad and pathetic lives, unless you're a super big fuck, like me. So here's a little something about my family.

My mom called the other day, but I was having dinner with a friend, and had to hang up. I should have called her back but I didn't. Or at least, I haven't yet. I'm planning to do so soon, but, well, you know...time zones. Plus they're probably all in church and whatnot. I said I'd call her back that day, but she was getting ready to go out.

Me: So, I'll call you back, say, in an hour?
Mom: I won't be home in an hour; I'm going out.
Me: Then maybe tonight, your time.
Mom: I'll be out then too.
Me: Wah, how come you so happening?
Mom: You don't know meh? Your mother very happening, ok!

So here's a tribute to my happening family. I've carried the same photo of them in my wallet for the past three or four years, and it looks something like this:

Yes, I know, it looks like shit. This is mainly because I used to have another photo in the wallet with it, and the heat from my butt fused the two photos together. I later, well, discarded the other photo, but it left a big white splotch on my family photo. I don't know, I think it looks kind of charming like that.

My mother, like any good mother, used to nag me all the time.

I think that, naturally, some of this has rub off on me, especially when I'm talking to my roommate.

Ah well, mom, I'll call you back soon. I promise. Right after I'm done with blogging. And maybe napping. You can never nap too much, you know.

2005-04-02T13:42:00.000-06:00

Ok, so for those of you who didn't get it, 'Barn Yard Love' was my version of an April Fool's joke. Blame the time zones, etc, etc. It's now 1.29pm, central time, on April the 2nd, so I figure I can call an end to the whole prank. Those of you who missed it, however, can see barn yard love here.

Kudos to Adrian who had enough sense to realize where all the links on the page went. Nobody, however, seems to have found my explanation of what was going on. One concerned fan asked me if my blog had been hacked.

In response to this, yes, my blog has been hacked. By aliens. They are coming to take over everything now. We're fucked. All of us.

Ok, I have to roll back into bed now. I'm more hung over than I've been in ages.

Technorati Tags: aprilfool, aprilfoolsday

2005-03-31T22:27:00.000-06:00

Yesterday a friend of mine came over for dinner. Actually, to be more precise, he came over to watch me eat dinner, and also play some Grand Theft Auto. It was good times, man. While I was doing dishes, we talked about audioblogging and he decided to interview me. You can listen to the interview here. You can also listen to some of our ultra boring (seriously, ultra boring) dinner conversation here.

Audio blogging is really fun, even though the quality of posts seems to drop (at least, in my case) exponentially. Here's an example of the stupid things people say on audioblogs. Seriously, like, what the fuck, right? I know, I know.

Anyway, I was looking at blogs that link to mine, and other than hot babes like Celly (who recently even got featured by BOTH Mr. Miyagi and Cowboy Caleb) there were also some weirdos (don't want to mention any names - sekali I lose fans then how?). My favourite sites were the ones which people must have clicked 'next blog' from - you know, the random blogs which are, more often than not, absolute shit.

Check out this site in particular; allegedly a 'top secret website' of a mysterious individual named 'mike'. He lists the initals of 'people he wants to kill' (oooh...scary), mentions his best friend, the ever faithful Sm, and curses his sworn enemy, the nefarious Kejvrbkjeadfhbvf. Who the fuck has a sworn enemy named Kejvrbkjeadfhbvf? Who is this guy? Conan? Dyslexic Conan?

Anyway, he lists all the names of "people hoo no about this page" at the bottom, and ends with the request "Tell me if u find it, and I will post your name too…"

Quick quick! Go tell him! Then we can all be his "secret amigos".

So fun, right? I know!

2005-03-30T18:30:00.000-06:00

Here's a helpful lesson on American lingo:

Ok, so I've noticed that Singaporeans all love saying how they're 'stoned' or list one of their favourite hobbies as 'stoning'; just so you guys all know, it's different here in America. Much different. You can get yourself into funny situations saying these things. You see, in America, getting 'stoned' involves this:

For those of you who don't know what that is, good for you. It is illegal. Unless you live in Holland, in which case, you would be saying, 'oh, that's just weed,' or, perhaps, something that sounds more like 'ah! das guerning zook dem zeuw!'* since you speak dutch'

Yes, in America, being 'stoned' invariably has to do with a drug, specifically, the drug displayed above. That drug is marijuana.

See, in Singapore, someone who is 'stoned' looks like this:

original picture here

In America, however, someone who is stoned looks more like this:

original picture here

So, the next time you Singaporeans go to America, please make sure you know who you're talking to before saying how 'stoned' you feel.

The other phrase to watch out for is 'high'; while you can say you are 'high' in Singapore after a few drinks, you only get 'high' in America if you've been puffing the magic dragon, if you know what I mean. All of you take note! Or don't...not like it matters to me.

* No, I don't speak dutch and no, I have no idea what I typed.

Addendum: The author in no way has any knowledge of drugs. Don't ask him. He's a good boy, you know.

2005-03-30T02:07:00.000-06:00

Today, we talk about being cool. See, lots of people are cool. I like to think I am cool too. As we all know, the easiest way to convince peoples of something is to tell it to them many times. Eventually, they will forget who told them and assume it is true. So, assuming anyone is here to read this, I am damn cool.. Yes, I know, some of you might have been thinking that for a while now, but it is true. I am really super duper cool. I am so cool that when I walk into a room, the walls start crying. Sort of. You may wonder: 'why are they crying?' The answer is - beecause I am so cool.

Anyway, to celebrate my coolness, I've designed a poster. My walls cry because it is so great. I am really wet because I am getting cried on so much.

Ok, so maybe the walls don't really cry. In fact, maybe my ceiling is just leaky. Or maybe it isn't, and I'm lying, and my walls aren't crying. You will never know. But anyway, I still think that it's important to love yourself once in while. Or perhaps every day. I mean, people don't do it enough. Everyone indulge yourself a little, make posters celebrating your coolness. They can look like this:

or, if you don't like drawing, they can look like this:

(just so you know, I have no idea who that girl is. I found her xanga after flipping through a shitload of xangas, and didn't read it; I hope she doesn't get pissed. But she really shouldn't, since I'm making a picture celebrating her sort of good looks, right?)

Yeah, it doesn't matter. Just tell everyone how cool you are. Because damn it, what good are these things for if we can't all say how awesome we are on them, right?

That's right.

2005-03-28T18:18:00.000-06:00

Note: first things first; I've been notified by an incredibly helpful reader that the bloglines feed for this site somehow doesn't work. It's slow as shit, and generally sucks balls. Please use the RSS feed instead; seriously, it's way better. I think you can still use bloglines, but at least you won't be using that crap atom feed.

Once again, I'm in the library; I just submitted my degree application for this quarter, meaning that I'm going to graduate, well, soon. Hopefully. From time to time I'm a useless shit. It's true; I have to admit it. I was reading this page (yes, I often read my own page; I'm special like that) and a friend happened to glance at it. He said I shouldn't read the page at night because the pictures were damn scary.

Thus, in order to give all your eyes a rest, today will be a picture-free post.

Anyhow, woke up a little too early today; it was about 9.25 and the buzzer rang. I hate getting out of bed before my alarm goes off. In fact, I hate getting out of bed even after the alarm goes off. Let's just say I hate getting out of bed in general. It really sucks. So I haul myself out of bed and realize my back aches like shit.

How the hell did this happen?

I suspect that this must have happened while I was doing wushu yesterday. I knew that whole butterfly kick thing was a little too much for my body to take.

With this in mind, my resolution for today is to groan a lot and act surly.

Life is great when you set low targets. I mean, as the saying goes, 'if you never try, you'll never fail'. No wonder why I'm such an overwhelming success.

Oh yeah, while I was reading Mr. Miyagi, I saw his reference to a certain web machine that calculates readability of webpages and whatnot. According to the algorithm, I did better than even the almighty Mr. Brown, ok! What this allegedly means is that, while my writing is at a (slightly) higher level, it's still more readable. Yeah, right. I suppose this just proves that it doesn't matter how good your style is, nobody will read you if you don't have content. And web cred. Mr. Brown has loads of web cred, mang.

Ok. I see a cute girl I have to make conversation with. I need to go, so I can hobble over to her with my bad back before she leaves the library.

2005-03-27T20:54:00.000-06:00

You know those times when you take a whole bunch of awesome pictures, somehow forget to save or something, and all the pictures disappear? Yeah, that just happened. I just painstakingly used my foot photography skills to take pictures of me in wushu stances, had a whole series of pictures featuring another one of my stuffed animals to represent what i've been doing the last couple days, and even had a little pictorial lick-my-jesus-esque comic strip, ready to be photoshopped. Unfortunately, I am an idiot, and managed to un-save it at the last minute, or something equally stupid like that. Long story short, you guys are going to have to settle for a brief recap of my last two days.

I really didn't do anything the last two days.

Ok, maybe eat, sleep, breathe, shit, that sort of thing; I've been doing that. All the rest of the time has really been spent (sort of) in this pose:

Ok, actually, not really. More on that later, though. Note the mess accumulating in the corner of my room and on my desk. I've really been living like a slob. Why? I blame this:

No, I don't mean my un-made bed, though I've been spending a lot of time in it; I blame the big black box on top of my fridge (yes, that's a fridge) and the littler black box on top of it. Yes, it's my playstation. Let me just state for the record that it's kind of awesome to stay in bed all day playing playstation games. It really makes you feel like you're on vacation...and also a huge dork. I know, I know, you're thinking, man, that's pathetic. Let me explain, though.

So, like I said, I've been playing this game, right, Grand Theft Auto - the latest (and greatest) installation is really super addictive, not because of the fact that you can jack peoples' cars, not because you can shoot lots of innocent people, but because, get this, you can go to the gym and workout, and also go to fast food joints and eat. I know, some of you are probably thinking, that's stupid, what does any of that matter? Oh, it totally does; seriously, when you see your character's muscle statistic increase by two percentage points, and feel the vibration on the controller when he gets hungry, then watch him go and eat, you almost feel like you're getting stronger / fuller yourself. Seeing as to how I have a hard time keeping track of reality, I can't shake the feeling that I've been working out a lot lately, when all I've really been doing is pushing buttons. Man, I have to put the playstation in the living room before it destroys my life.

Before you write me off as a complete dork, let me state in my defence that I've also been doing some wushu. I feel my muscles getting bigger already. Soon I will be able to fight like Bruce Lee...before he started doing kung fu, or Jackie Chan...'s infant son. Yeah, then everyone will be scared of me...or at least those little kids, they'll be scared of me. Yeah, that's right.

Other than that, it's really been kind of uneventful. I tried to capture my mood, and ended up taking this photo:

It comes pretty close, except my eyes are kind of glazed over, making me look like I'm on drugs, so I tried again:

This captures how I feel, like, 75% of the time I'm alive. If they made an emoticon like this, I might actually start using it.

Seeing as to how I've been feeling exactly how I look in the picture, I decided to amuse myself by cycling through the two pictures I just took. I made another one of those animated gifs:

Awesome, right?

Yeah, that's all I have to say right now.

Oh, yeah, grades for winter quarter just came out. I kicked ass, because I am damn brilliant. I just thought all of you should know.

2005-03-26T03:39:00.000-06:00

I'm just back from Kabuki Lady Macbeth at the Chicago Shakespeare Theater. Ok, I see those incredulous looks on your faces. What, just because I like to say fuck a lot, you think I'm not cultured, is it? WRONG! I am very cultured, ok! In fact, I'm a bona fide culture vulture! Don't play play!

Yeah, so I saw the picture; I like Japanese stuff, I had nothing better to do, it was 15 bucks, so I thought, yeah, why not. From the picture, I seriously thought it was going to be something like Kurosawa's Throne of Blood; you know, lots of awesome samurai action and whatnot, or maybe kabuki action. Whatever. I mean, just compare the posters:

See the striking resemblance? I was all ready for lots of Japanese, and maybe some funny singing and whatnot. That would've been awesome. However, I was shocked to discover that the actors in the play were all ... ang mohs! Yes, that's right, despite the black hair and painted faces, it seems that none of the actors spoke a word of Japanese, other than perhaps 'shogun', which they said about a billion times. That's right, every other name in the play (ok, they use titles like Kurokawa and Tikitikitiki or something that sounded like that) was the same, but nonetheless, they felt obliged to call Duncan the shogun. Retarded, I know.

On top of this, Macbeth had a hairy chest. And a pot belly. How do I know? Well, in the duel to the death with Duncan (yes, they felt compelled to have the two characters duel to the death; it was bizarre), Duncan somehow manages to take off Macbeth's cape. I was almost expecting a pool of mud. And some wrestling. I mean, what the hell? I don't want to see a tubby guy with red underpants! I wasn't paying for Sumo Lady Macbeth, damnit!

Lastly, the fact that they were all speaking in English made the whole affectation of the Kabuki thing fall flat. I mean, I guess they couldn't be expected to speak Japanese, but then, why try right? I guess it's important to bring Kabuki to the Americans, but hey, I guess I wasn't exactly their target audience. I should've just gone to Japan and seen real Kabuki. Seriously.

Naturally, there were a couple of redeeming factors. Shozo Sato did a pretty good job of conveying the feel of a Kabuki production given the limitations of the space he was working with. Given the modestly sized theatre, it would have been kind of unreasonable to expect trap doors and revolving stages (though I still wanted that stuff anyway, because it would have been oh-so-kickass); he put together a real pretty set of screens, lights, feather boa forests and red paper blood baths. It was all very pretty, really. Also, considering it was 15 bucks, I could think of worse ways to spend the evening. I mean, all in all, it was a real great night out; a play, a nice Japanese dinner, great company. I'm surprised I still can write such an irritated sounding rant.

Actually no, I'm not. I can be irritated at anything. Oh, the actors laughed real funny, too. They'd do this stylized, stage laugh that was a 'huh huh huh' instead of a 'hee hee hee'; it sounded like a cross between Fat Albert and Apu from the Simpsons. It was funny, though; it cracked me up every time.

I guess it all boils down to the fact that I'm one of those asians who's always looking at the white man and saying, 'you have no idea; you'll never get it, so why bother trying?'

Maybe I should just be more open.

Then again, maybe white dudes trying Kabuki should first learn some goddamn Japanese.

2005-03-25T13:10:00.000-06:00

I've always liked the sound of my voice. One time I was singing on the bus while going home from school, and my friends turned around and said, 'eh, you sing damn horrible lah why don't you shut up.'

Since that day, I've always sung to myself instead. Unless I go to karaoke, in which case I sing as much as I want because damn it, I paid money already, right?

Anyway, seeing how Mr. Brown has been releasing a series of podcasts, I suddenly feel that it's time for people to hear my voice. I might not have a nice voice, and I might not even be entertaining, but what the heck. It's not like I have anything better to do. Click here to play the file, and don't let your parents here, because I like to say bad words some times.

Oh yeah, if you're inspired to release your own audio blogs, check out audioblogger; I can blog from my handphone, ok! Shiok or not? Oh yeah, it might only work in North America though.

2005-03-24T16:11:00.000-06:00

As some of you may have noticed, I've made minor changes to the layout of this site; I've also put up a couple more buttons (RSS feeds, voting links - be sure to click them ALL) as well as a little box showing how you can put a stylo milo button on your site linking to mine. Yes, I know you want to do it - don't think; just do it! Anyway, let me know if any of these template tweaks look stupid with your respective browsers, so I can fix all these problems; I use firefox, so I'm not sure if the site will look the same on, say, microsoft's internet sucksplorer.

Ok, back to business. So, as some of you may know, I've recently been fairly obsessed with Singapore blogging sensation Cheng Yan Yan, because she is, well, damn attractive (Oh! Those cuss words! Those curls! That tongue that spawned an internet phenomena!); I even drew a picture of her:

Nice, right? Some of you might be thinking, 'I don't believe this stupid fucker can draw.' You are wrong! I can draw very nice! Here's a picture I drew of myself:

Yes, that's right; I have sunglasses that say 'bad ass'. I'm just that much of a badass. Oh, just so you know, I quit smoking just over a week ago, so that's one of the last pictures I'll have with ciggies.

Anyway, back to my internet crush. So some of my snobby chicago friends, after reading xiaxue's blog, talked about how she wasn't that attractive, or used too much makeup, etc etc. I suppose it's true that she isn't exactly the most attractive woman in the world, but I think all this 'so and so isn't all that attractive' bullshit is getting just a little out of hand.

Let's face it, people. The majority of the world isn't that attractive. Seriously. There are a couple reasons why everyone's standards are so ridiculously high:

1) TV / the mass media: The problem with all this shit is that we see beautiful women / men every day. This makes us think, 'ah, since the world is so beautiful, I should be able to get someone good looking.' Let me tell you, this is a shining example of stupid thinking. Here's a news flash for the deluded: the beautiful people on tv are almost NEVER going to go out with you. It just won't happen, man! I used to dream about dating that girl from My Sassy Girl; it took me damn long to realize it would never happen. I was sad for a whole week. So, yeah, the majority of us will just have to be happy dating the average looking people we find.

2) The availability heuristic. Ok, this is a phenomenon in Social Psychology, which basically means that the easier something is to recall, the more common you think it is. Anyway, what this means is, since you find it easier to remember the pretty people that you see, you think they're more common. Thus, things work like this: you see pretty girl / handsome guy in Orchard / wherever. You find it easier to remember beautiful person (after all, they're beautiful). You thus think there are lots of beautiful people around. Haha! You are wrong! Next time you go out, open your eyes big big so you can see all the average looking people out there. Maybe you should even keep count of the average versus attractive people. The result? There are definitely less attractive people than average people.

Seriously, folks, this is an alarming trend. If all of us raise our standards so high, in the end, the whole world will end up chasing after the same 2 people or something. It will suck. Thus, I encourage all of you to find average people pretty.

I know, some of you will be saying, 'how the hell is this possible? Not attractive means not attractive, stupid!'

Fear not, I have a cunning plan!

See, there's this thing called the mere exposure effect; it's a really simple concept. Basically, the more you see something (or someone), the more you find it (or him, or her) attractive. No kidding. If you don't believe me, here's an experiment you can do it prove it.

1) Take this picture (an old picture of me from my NS days):

2) Print it out; even better rasterbate it first, and then print it out (on a side note, the rasterbator is an awesome program which you should check out regardless).

3) Put the picture somewhere you can see it every day.

After a couple weeks, you will probably think I am damn attractive. I know, some of you don't believe me; well, follow these instructions. I totally dare you.

So, anyway, back to the point. I think it would be damn awesome if we started a circle of people who just kept posting pictures of each other; then we would all seem more attractive. Just look at Mr. Miyagi; after posting so many pictures of himself, he begins getting wedding proposals and whatnot from random fans. This is clearly an example of the mere exposure effect. Here's my plan:

1) Everyone mail me their photos; the address to send things to is jschnorng@gmail.com.

2) Everyone post pictures of me in their blog and send me the link

3) I will reciprocally work in pictures of random bloggers in my blog

4) Do this with all your friends.

If it works out, everyone will become more attractive, because we keep seeing the same damn faces all the time. It will be awesome. Suddenly, we'll all seem a lot more attractive. I call it operation make everyone more attractive.

What do you guys think? Good idea, huh?

Awesome.

Before I sign out, I just saw a link to my blog in the comments section on some page written in an obscure language (incidentally, the post was a ripoff of a recent xiaxue post). Man, I love being quoted, especially when it's in a foreign language.

2005-03-23T19:57:00.000-06:00

Long Tongues are the Essence of Sexy

Ok, I got a couple comments regarding pictures of myself. This made me think of pictures. Hence, I'm going to bombard all of you with my pictures. I think this is awesome. You are free to disagree with me, but hey, at least I like how I look, and that's half the battle. After all, it's been scientifically proven that thinking you look good makes you look better, right? Obviously, I must be correct.

Why the pictures, you ask? Well, I've decided to show my allegiance to the Singapore blogging community and post my 'too sexy for my blog' picture (if you don't know what this is about yet, read Mr. Brown or xiaxue for the low-down on this); check out my amazingly long tongue:

Wah! What a long tongue! I know, all of you females out there must be ridiculously excited. Others will be thinking, who is this joker? Gene Simmons? The cow / horse headed demon from hell? What a scary looking tongue! In the interests of all you people, there is a more conservatively lengthed tongue as well (yes, I can retract my enormously long tongue on command, thus making it even SEXIER!):

I also included a version where I used the mood lighting to create an effect of extra sexiness:

Ok, that looks more like something out of a horror movie, I know. Nobody would want to be friends with someone who looked like that, right? Just in case all the hot girls reading this are scared of me now, let me remind you that I actually look like this:

Ok, I'm obviously fooling around here. Sunglasses, I feel, automatically make you look cooler. The same, however, cannot necessarily be said for the whole hand thing. You know, that hand thing. What the hell is up with that? Is it a gun? Is it a seven? Are you trying to turn your fingers into a picture frame for your face? None of this makes any sense to me, except that people think it makes them look cool. I suppose it might make you look cool, but it's more likely to make you look like a dumb shit who thinks his fingers can shoot lasers. Which they can't. Unless you're me. Which you aren't.

On this subject, however, funny poses I see people (especially us Asians) doing sometimes really crack me up. Having rediscovered the joys of my camera, I shall model a couple. There's the classic V-sign:

Every mother father cow pig donkey in Asia (ESPECIALLY JAPAN) has done the V-sign, or the peace sign, or whatever you want to call it, in a picture. Here are some examples I have found:

Exhibit A: Asian male with V-sign

Exhibit B: Asian female with V-sign

Exhibit C: Big-time Japanese politician with V-sign.

See? EVERYONE does it! Why? What does it mean? Is it a wish for peace? A sign of victory? When I was working in Tokyo, I asked my co-worker at the orphanage why Japanese people all seem to like making the peace sign.

Me: Why does everyone in Japan make the peace sign?
Him: What?
Me: You know, the peace sign?
Him: Peace sign?
I make the sign
He makes the sign.
Me: Yeah, that sign.
Him: I don't know.

Upon further questioning, the best answer I got was, 'sometimes Japanese people don't know what things mean, but just think they look cool.' I got that answer about a shitload of things I asked about in Japan.

Another sign that seems to have been co-opted is the whole 'rock out' sign, except Asians seem to need to do it with two hands (since one is not enough):

The scowl is, of course, necessary to make you look cooler. Or constipated. They might just both be the same thing. Alarmingly, I have seen a variation of the 'double rock out' pose which involves crossing your hands as well:

No kidding; I've actually seen a bunch of people posing like this. I have no idea what they're thinking. Can't people just take pictures normally? The 'crossed rock out' pose, naturally, stems from both the 'double rock out' and the 'ultraman' pose:

Ok, actually I think the ultraman pose is kind of funny.

That's enough modelling now, I suppose; I know, all of you must be wondering, 'wait a second - how did he take pictures of those two-handed poses on his webcam? don't you need a free hand to click?'

Ok, maybe none of you were wondering that, but for those of you who were, I applaud your perceptivity. You will go far in life. Or, at least, further than all those casual bastards who didn't think about how hard it is to put this goddamn blog up. Yeah. Anyway, note the strange angle I've been posing at for these double handed shots:

I now adjust the camera so that you can follow my body and ....

TADA! Yes, that is indeed my foot, controlling the mouse. See what lengths I go to for you guys?

Alright, that's obviously enough silly pictures for a day. I'll now leave you with an extremely serious group photo I took with my friend, Randy, the ear-cleaning rabbit:

Alright, I'm out. Later, people.

technorati tag: sexyblogger

2005-03-22T19:14:00.000-06:00

So, my new playstation 2 just came in. Yes, I know, everyone else has had one for ages. Yes, I know, the playstation 3 will soon come out and make my humble playstation 2 obsolete. Nonetheless, I've spent the greater part of today playing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas, and it's totally, mind-numbingly, awesome. If not for games like this, all of us would actually have to spend our time being useful human beings, instead of being able to escape to a magic la-la land where we all get to be bad-ass thugs who can beat up all the bad guys (or good guys) and steal peoples' cars because they are pretty (the cars, not the people).

So, other than the trip to Toronto, Spring Break has been pretty uneventful so far. We explored suburbia a little yesterday (no pictures from that; suburbia is bloody boring) and went to eat. Eating is awesome. Have I mentioned how much I love eating? I think eating is the best part of being a Singaporean; when we were in Secondary school, I remember doing some survey on the things you liked best and least about Singapore. They gave you options like 'stable government' and 'good economy' for things you liked, and options like 'lack of social freedom' and stuff like that for things you disliked. I picked none of the options, and wrote in 'food' for my favourite thing, and 'weather' for my least favourite. I mean, all the other things are important, but man, I eat every day, you know? I don't think about the government every day. I'm far too stupid.

Anyway, today I got my first fanmail from this site. This, I feel, is completely awesome. I know, fan mail is kind of a far cry from having beautiful women throw themselves at me. Perhaps this is because they are shy, and don't know whether I'm suitably attractive. Thus I've decided to put another face shot up. Yes, here is my face, in all its glorious detail:

You must be wondering where this awesome photo was taken. For your information, it was taken in a ridiculously swanky restaurant on the 54th floor of some tower or another in Canada. Yes, I'm just that classy. You must be thinking, 'holy shit, this guy must be loaded if he can eat in ritzy restaurants.'

You are partially right, in that I can eat at ritzy restaurants. However, this is due to the fact that I am damn stylo, rather than due to the fact that I am loaded. I am, in fact, super poor. Notice that I am drinking a coffee. That's all that I had. It was super expensive. I'm still broke. I spent so much on the coffee I even took another picture of it:

Notice the awesome view, as well as the nuts. The awesome view indicates, once again, how classy I am. The nuts, on the other hand, were free. They were also lunch. Yes, I'm that cheap.

Some beautiful women will be thinking 'oh shit, seeing as to how this guy is so cheap, he'd probably be a really lousy date.'

This is totally untrue. One day, I will be really incredibly rich, and then I will be a cocky bastard, and not have anything to do with poor bastards, because that's what rich, cocky bastards do. Hence, all of you better invest for the future and go out with me now, while I'm still a nice guy. Furthermore, I'm only cheap until you get to know me, after which I am super generous, as evidenced by this one time when I gave my friend a WHOLE BOX OF POCKY for his birthday. Pocky is damn tasty, you know; this proves my superb generosity.

Ok, so once again, hot babes please send emails to jschnorng@gmail.com

Alright, that's enough for now. I have to go back to increasing my street cred and killing people who piss me off. Sometimes, video games are just that much cooler than the real world. Unless lots of hot babes message me. Or people start sending me money. Either would be totally awesome. Yeah.

2005-03-20T19:25:00.000-06:00

Toronto: A City With Lots of Buildings In It.

So I just got back from Toronto last night; I'm all unpacked and rested, and now have got around to blogging about it. I know, my faithful fans (all 3 of you) must be excited. In today's entry, I share what I've been up to for the past couple days. It's totally awesome, mainly because my life totally rocks and you wish you were me. Except maybe smarter. And maybe a little richer. But yeah, whatever.

Anyway, having left in a complete hurry on Thursday morning, I neglected to bring a camera on my trip. Some people would say that this was caused in part by the fact that I do not have a camera. This may be true. Perhaps, if I had a camera, I would have been more likely to bring it. Well, it's too late for thoughts like that now, isn't it? Fortunately, my buddy was there to take a couple pictures for me. Unfortunately, I don't have them all, and said buddy is leaving for Alaska tomorrow. Fortunately, I have an idea.

So, we were at Niagara Falls (which, as far as waterfalls go, is a pretty big waterfall) and there was this guy who took your photo against a green background, and then gave it to these guys who would photoshop Niagara Falls into the background. This gave me a clever idea - instead of boring you all to tears with a pictureless account of my trip, I will instead painstakingly recreate the pictures I took in Toronto. Don't worry, given my superb photo editing skills, these shots are all about 97% similar to the shots my friend has in his camera. Really. I'm that good.

So, we arrived in Toronto on Thursday night. It looked something like this:

Ok, maybe it didn't look like that at all, but we were tired, so we hung out at Chinatown for a while, then went to sleep. Anyway, any pictures would totally have turned out like that, because it was so damn dark. Seriously.

So, the next morning, we went to see the CN tower. It did not at all resemble the Seattle tower. Ok, maybe it did a little bit, but it was cool in a totally different way. I was a little disappointed at the fact that it wasn't all that tall, though.

I was taking a picture with the tower, and I almost knocked it over. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, 'man, that picture is complete bullshit; the CN tower is taller than that!'

No, it isn't. I happen to be a couple thousand feet tall, thus the picture is 100% accurate. Or maybe 98%, because I look 2% cooler in real life. And also shoot lasers.

So, after seeing the tower, my friend and I were hungry, so we went for brunch at St. Lawrence's market. It was a nice, quaint sort of place, and the peameal ham sandwich was really tasty. Man, I love eating pig, especially when it was juicy. We decided we had to take a picture of the market.

My friend said we had to retake the shot, seeing as to how I blocked the sign, so we took another shot.

I was happy with this picture, but he said I was still blocking the pole thingy in the background, and told me to move to my right. I was all, like, 'but then you'll barely see me!'

SEE WHAT I MEAN? This picture totally sucks! Being the clever dude that I am, however, I decided to animate the three pictures - this way you get the best of both worlds, seeing both the market and me. Unfortunately, none of the image hosting services that I use support animated gifs. You can see the glorious gif in question here; it's like a home video, only slower. And possibly more fantastic.

After this, we walked around a little more, and eventually ended up in Chinatown. Seeing as to the fact that I'm damn huge, we only managed to take a picture of my shin. You can see all the signs in chinatown, though. Several of them were in Chinese. It's lucky that I speak Chinese; I'm a good Singaporean like that. However, it's not so lucky that I'm huge. I squished a lot of people. Next time I will be more careful when I walk.

After a fun-filled friday, we went to Niagara Falls on Saturday. My friend said, 'eh, if you jump off the waterfall, I bet a damn lot of people will visit your site,' so I did it. Here is proof:

Boy, did my feet get wet. Niagara Falls is goddamn wet. It's as if it's raining all the time, except it's also cold, and everyone just freezes their ass off. There's a 'journey behind the falls' thing, which you pay money for, allegedly to see behind the waterfalls, but, if you are smart, don't do this in the winter. All you see is ice. It's all frozen. You can't even hear the bloody water. I was so disappointed. Who wants to see chunks of ice, anyway? I have plenty in my freezer. I'll make a 'Niagara falls in the winter' diorama and charge people 2 bucks - less than half price! I'll be super rich.

Ok, I hope you enjoyed my account of my trip. I'll be back soon with more exciting stories! YAY!

2005-03-16T23:33:00.000-06:00

Everybody Loves to Tak Giu!

Since I'm about to abandon you, my loving newfound audience, I thought I'd leave you something to entertain yourselves with:

So, I was reading Cowboy Caleb's blog and came across his recommendation of a new local movie attributed to Jacen Tan. Having downloaded and watched said movie (it's totally free; you can download it here; it's a 15 minute short) here's what I think:

I like soccer. I like Singapore. I like movies. I like free shit.

WITH SO MANY THINGS TO LIKE, HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY LOSE?

Alright, now I'm really going to shut up for the day.