The Sky is Falling

Without warning, or any signs of duress from the weather, a blast of wind came swept through the place. It was as if someone had turned the fan on for an instance, sending half-filled cups flying, lifting skirts and making girls squeal, an avalanche of napkins sailing through the air. The plastic sheets covering a tentage made a dramatic gesture, like how majestic curtains are lifted effortlessly on a stage.

It was beautiful, and when it was over a brief stunned silence ensued. Mother Nature issuing a firm reminder of her presence. Heads turned warily, as if something human was to be blamed for this spate of irregularity. Restaurant staff hurriedly came to clean up the mess and pick up banners that had fallen on the floor. I send out a silent plea, "Do it. Do it again."

I love the wind, and I can't imagine why people wouldn't. Cleansing, carthartic... almost like the rain but without the mess. The potential for destruction always setting us on edge.

The only time I felt fear in its presence was back in Dhaka. The monsoon was coming round, and afternoon rains became routine. I made a mistake of deciding to rush out to buy some smokes to tide over the rest of the afternoon. At that time it the sun was still out, but in the brief couple of minutes during my short walk the sky clouded over and it was clear I would not make it back dry.

So we huddled underneath the tiny zinc roof over the shop, ignoring the theory of personal space. The rain pelted down mercilessly, it was oblivious to our schedules.

Then the wind came, rattling zinc roofs, breaking branches and causing a ruckus amongst the leaves.We looked up at the piece of metal offering us shelther - it was clear it would not hold.

We didn't know what to do. To risk a potential head injury or to get soaked? After a while, the noise became unbearable and we stepped out reluctantly, some of us making a dash for alternate forms of cover.

And just as my feet stepped off the sidewalk and into the rain, the zinc roof came clanging down.

There wasn't much time to stop and consider theories on fate and destiny and luck, I just ran back to the office, trying to avoid trees and their falling branches.


Here in Dhoby Ghaut's Starbucks, there's really no fear to be seen in the faces around me. A lot of irritation, a lot of muttering.

Progress Report

Or not, actually. But I just remembered that's what they used to call it back in school.

So things are going quite well. Still not as adept in the workplace as I'd like to be, frequently feeling intellectually-challenged but I suppose I literally did ask for it.

Trying to get things in motion without thinking too much. I want to do away with the checklists, do away with the mental notes, do away with all the talk and talk and talk and nothing to show for it.

Maybe that's why I haven't been blogging much.

So a gym membership is in the works, all that's left is for me to sign and pay up. Motorbike lessons already paid for, just have to book myself into a class and get the system going. The bank account will suffer slightly, but its already doing amazingly well after only four months of work so I think I can breath a little easier. A certain Mr. Lim from Standard Chartered is supposed to do lunch with me to talk about a savings account, and Issue 2 is off to the printers and the next edition is so much better than the first.

So now its all of the above, plus Issue 3. Plus throw in some shopping because I still want more shoes.


Work is interesting. I'm not doing what I'd like to be doing, but I'm glad to be even doing anything at all. A little dabble into the magazine/fashion world and at least now there are some brand names I can pronounce although I will never ever ever remember how to say 'hermes' because its just one of those impossible words. It really doesn't make any difference because I would not spend money on branded clothes. But I suppose knowledge takes on many forms, and it doesn't hurt to know.


So yeah that's that. Cats are doing well. The older one is eating well again, although she's still heart-breakingly skinny but as long as she has the energy to hunt for cockroaches I suppose everything's alright.

Sick and Happy

Its funny how a day of sickness can turn out to be one of the better days I've had in a while.

A trip to the polyclinic in the early afternoon to get an MC, and oh yes medicine too of course, for a mere flu. I wouldn't go unless I had to, and I wouldn't have missed work but between the phlegm and the mucus and the easily irritable eyes and all... I figured I wouldn't have been of much help. Plus I would've been feeling very sorry myself and would just end up feeling guilty for feeling that way so really, there's no point.

And plus I had things to do. I've been experiencing an about-face of sorts regarding my sentiments about my room. It used to be a dread to be at home which was why I came home late most nights.

I'm not too sure what sparked it off. It could've been the CNY mini-clean up or that night I spent talking with ex-colleagues on a beautiful balcony and yearning for a similarly beautiful place to call my own.

So yes, I decided to take a stake in my room. A trip to Ikea to stock up on much-needed candles and other varied accessories, extra wardrobe space, organising more than 200 CDs, stacking up my books exactly where they should be - not hidden but right in front of me on the shelves.

More has to be done. Tried to do some painting today but it turns out I bought the wrong kind of paint. The room colour has to go, and there's about 10 years worth of academic nostalgia that needs to be cleared out.


The point is, I don't like going out much anymore. With a cleared out desk and my speakers and an actual coaster for drinks and a desk pad - I want to stay in. Stay in with the cats and listen to 鄧麗君 over and over again.


Plus I can't afford partying for at least a couple of months. Not after splurging on a dress and shoes for the launch party. Not after that trip to Ikea. Not after the trip to the vet today.



I wasn't the only one who was sick today. After tending to my own illness, Cat made a long overdue visit to the vet.

I've been to two vets so far and decided to check out a third one. The previous two were fuckwits as far as I'm concerned.

Dr Chua at Serangoon Garden's Pet Resource proved to be not bad. And pricey. I walked out of that place nearly 200 bucks poorer.

Cat has fur mites. And intestinal problems. And I think she's stressed out. But I suppose we'll just take it one step at a time. Because of her long fur, I'm also incredibly fussy and I want to SEE IT FLUFFY and SHINY. So I made the decision today to invest in bloody fucking expensive cat food. I'm glad no one uses the old-fashioned cash registers anymore. The ka-ching! sound would make me nauseous. Silent transactions are the easiest to practice denial on.

Turning My Back

It sucks that I keep forgetting to bring home the steamer. I am fast running out of wrinkle-free clothes to wear. Plus right now, I only have two pairs of wearable shoes (the others need to be washed or thrown out) and I have no jeans that doesn't make my thighs look fat. I'm no fashionista, but I do like some semblance of choice in the morning. Drastic action needs to be taken. I'll start by bringing home the steamer. Then maybe a gym membership.

The last gym membership (actually it was a dance class but technically its exercise to me) failed partially because I just couldn't make it on time anymore and mostly because I was not happy with the financial transactions I had with the place. And I shudder at the thought of joining the ranks of the yuppies who wear gym clothes in the middle of Orchard Road, but maybe there's no choice. At this rate, my ass won't fit into anything.

I did go cycling after midnight during the CNY break. Not in the mood to get dressed to go out, not in the mood to stay home and do nothing. So I got on a bike and went away. I cycled the whole stretch of Tampines Road only to discover I didn't have the guts to get onto the expressway to Sengkang so I had to turn around and cycle all the way back.



I tried to call the models to arrange to meet for a clarification interview as I did the captions for the photo essay. English over the phone can be difficult without accompanying hand gestures. Nataly said she'll call me back, but she never did and so I headed home.

I usually try to board at the end of the trains for more standing room, but today the train arrived just as I stepped onto the platform. Its always such an event for me, deciding which carriage to enter and which door to enter it by. Today's choice was made slightly easier by the fact there was a rather attractive dude who would've improved an otherwise dull ride with some eye candy.

But things always happen when you least expet it, and Nataly stepped out as I was about to step in. She didn't see me of course, I was lost in the sea of people. But its not difficult to spot a 1.8m tall girl.

So we went grocery shopping and had dinner and I did the interview. I found it difficult trying to simplify the question "How do you feel about being judged only by your looks all the time."

She tried to understand what I meant, and kept silent for awhile and then said:


"You can't recognise somebody you are not."


She probably meant something else, but that line really stuck with me for some reason.



And as the theme of the night (expecting the unexpected) continued, I just HAD to bump into the dude I met a week ago. Smart, funny, subtle, I had thought about him briefly in the morning (why did he NOT CALL) and I shrugged it off (or tried to anyway). I debated initiating contact. Then I remembered how the other attempt in the past went and decided against it.

So yes, running into someone you're interested in when you look like shit (with a model next to you for comparisons too!) and when he's with a very attractive girl is just not a nice way to end the night. But well, no love lost and no harm done. Just the way things are.



And I kept thinking of what someone said a year or two ago. She said, "When you get older, you realise there are just some people not worth wasting your time on."

Maybe its true. There are some people who certainly fall into that category. At 23, I think I do have time to waste - but maybe I just lack the energy these days. So, well yeah. Fuck off!

And I just have that nagging feeling others have come to the same conclusion about me as well. Ah well.



One of my bosses told me today that I have to be more ruthless in my work. I completely disagreed with him, but he said it would come with age. I continued to argue, but now I wonder if I am already more ruthless than he is. Which is worse? To take advantage of another's money, or to take advantage of another's trust?

Rolling into Town

Euro FunPark is now in Hougang. Amidst the swirling neon lights and swooshing metal, there's a chance for me to feel something again.

I wore a dress to work today, much to the derision of most people. I probably shouldn't have done it on Valentine's Day. It is hard to argue with logical causal connections. I appreciate compliments, although I am terrible at receiving them. But somehow I don't know if it is a compliment to receive compliments only when you wear a skirt. For sure, feminity is very appreciated, and that pisses me off slightly for some strange and probably illogical reason.

No longer feel that urge to drink. I still have drinks, but my bottle of gin at home has not been touched in weeks, and that's a better indication of my alcoholic habits.

I like that the carnival is here, because I want to get on a ride and feel my stomach turn itself upside down, and my hair flying into my face, and my feet dangling in the air and my eyes darting to see everything from that height in that spilt second before the machine moves again.

I usually feel too much, but these days its been the opposite. Everything's slightly muted and grey. I used to drink to mute things, but now I want to find a way to turn up the volumn because the silence can get unnerving.

So my mom is upset, that I haven't been home much. And even when I am, I don't talk anymore. But how do I explain that I have nothing to say? And really, I just want the silence at home. I know I have completely contradicted myself. She asks if its work, or some boyfriend problem. She doesn't look convinced when I tell them its neither.

I had a conversation with Lars on the phone, and it was strange because I didn't remember him sounding the way he did. I wish it wasn't over the phone, I wished we were heading out for decent coffee at Somerset. I've been thinking a lot about Bangladesh, but then again I don't think I ever stop thinking about that place.

Yesterday I was trying to remember the way I did my laundry there. The system that I had, and that unreliable clothesline anchored to the mango tree on the rooftop that saw so many of my clothes blown by the wind onto the sandy floor. And all the places I would go have char at, and the late night rickshaw rides on the near empty streets, and the oily pizza place next door that made the world's worst fries.

And maybe I think about it so much because it is one of the rare things that make my grey, muted thoughts go ablaze with colour. I miss everything and I repost this photo in complete infringement of Lars' copyright.

I saw this and I instinctively purred.

Hee.

Back.

Following three 1.79m tall models from Ukraine all around town today was an exercise in... I dunno what, but it was an exercise alright.

Generally, I love women who are distinctly comfortable in their own skin - not appearing comfortable for the sake of appearing so - and these girls were quite something. I like!

But it was tiresome. Not speaking the language didn't help much. Being with three girls without knowing what they're saying all day can be really tiring. I can't smile for that long.




After it was over, and I was exhausted and tired and mentally preparing myself for the long night ahead (its still the beginning, even now), I guess maybe I was looking to let off some steam.

So it was just that guy's bad luck that I walked past him just as he snapped a photo from a digital camera, held discreetly in his hands which were down by his side as if he was holding it as he walked past. But it was held at a strange angle, so it looked deliberate.

The flash went off, which made me look, and I saw him lift up the camera almost immediately after as he stood at the bus stop, 'previewing' the shot.

I looked around, a bit bewildered. Where are the short skirts or big boobs? The only bit of flesh I saw was from a woman in mini-shorts and heels.

That's it? I thought I might have made a mistake.

But the dude just kept looking at his camera, and I suppose he just had that kind of face that made me want to yell at him.




"Did you just take a photo of that woman in shorts?"

He turned, and the look on his face was all the confirmation I needed.

"No! No, no...."

"I saw you. I saw the flash go off."

"No no no you can see the photo."

And I did, and obviously he missed his mark because the shorts was almost not in the frame. So what now? Failed attempt means no attempt is it!?

"So what's the point of this photo? Why did you even take it in the first place?"

--- stammer, more 'No no no no no' ---

"It was an accident, is it??"

"Yes, yes.. accident, accident."

"But you immediately went to look at the photo you took! I saw you!"

--- stammer, more 'No no no no no' ---



I said some other line, calling him sick and what not and just turned and left. I would've told the woman, but he didn't have a photo anyway, and talking to him didn't help me blow steam, it made me pissed off.

So then I was thinking, whether or not he did do anything wrong. Public property and all that. Plus pple take photos of cute strangers all the time.

I dunno, maybe it was the perverse-ness of this situation, and how I had spent all day worrying men behind me on the escalator were looking up the models' skirts....



Aiyah. I have a lot of work to finish.

Immortally Challenged

After trawling through a euphemisms site and other ways to describe death, I think the one above is my favourite so far.


Exhausting week. If you couldn't tell already, since I'm posting after finishing stuff at 4 am. Ideally I shouldn't sleep, but realistically I have to.

Someone asked me, wah Jess, why you always stay at work till so late?

Slight misconception there, that long hours = hardworking. To me, long hours = slow and stupid.

But oh well, we do what we can!



Tongkat Ali coffee has been a very good friend.



Exhausting week also, because I have been doing research on single fathers and spoken to a few of them. There is something very very very draining about these interviews, and I think maybe its because I am just not used to hearing men say things like this:

"I have just grown to love them more and more. They need to be loved so much and to be safe and secure, it breaks my heart that they wouldn’t have an intact family and that they have to carry those scars and wounds for the rest of their lives. Sometimes I look into their eyes and I see their vulnerability, and it physically hurts me to think they will have to one day face this themselves."

Its one thing to read this in an email interview, and another to have the emotion and the pauses and the deep breaths when hear it spoken to you.

The Sembawang music shop near my house turned out to be a gem of a place. I bought a Travis singles compilation and A Scanner Darkly VCD for $12.90 each.

Maybe I've not really been in-tune with the prices of such things these days, but these are bloody cheap in my book.

Not too sure why I chose Travis though, over all the other slightly more 'recent' stuff they had on offer. Maybe it was the CD cover. Or the fonts. Or the fact that seeing their name made me smile.

Its been a long long while. I think the last time I really listened to them was back in 2001 after the Coldplay/Travis concert. I still remember what I wore to that place. Some shiny silver top from Bodynits which I can't seem to find anymore, and I suspect I left it behind in Darren's place. Dammit. I liked that top.

That was also the first time I went to Rice Table. I remembered thinking it was a helluva bad idea because I ate till I was going to burst and you can't help but be conscious of a bloated tummy when you're wearing a shiny top.



Have been very stressed. Mostly because the article I'm working on is supposed to be the opening article and I don't really feel very confident that its going to do the magazine much justice. They may just switch it to the back, and I really really wouldn't mind.

But then again, this is the reason why I left ST, because I had forgotten what stress felt like. Stress, not just nervousness or anxiety. But pure stress that stems from ugly feelings of insecurity and questions about your own abilities. And stress that requires you swallow all that down just so that you are able to function.

I always did have a masochistic streak in me.



A Scanner Darkly proved slightly disappointing. I liked the idea and all, but a brief read of the original script by Charlie Kaufman makes me think that Linklater made a slight mistake adapting it by himself.

And I don't really appreciate drug-laden performances anymore. The hyperarticulate Robert Downing Jr. was of course utterly entertaining, and that scene where they argue about the purchase of a 18-speed bike was really quite something - but I think maybe real life is harder to deal with and I guess I don't relate to whatever point the director is trying to make.

But I love the title of the movie.

And now I am wondering if the numerous bug/aphids/roach-references is any indication of an influence from Kafka? Themes of alienation, identity, self-imprisonment? It has to be.


I just felt like talking. Back to work now.

Coincidences

Strange week.

I'm not too sure what it means, but almost every person I had to deal with this week was Saggi. It became so obvious that I would ask halfway through the conversation, "So when's your birthday?"

1. Model from Czech Republic (Re: See Above)
2. Bubbly girl I liase with from the modelling agency
3. Prominent local lawyer whose wife passed away
4. Local 'celebrity stylist'
5. Ghim Lay


So its a bit of an overdose, but I'm happy because I liked all these people (some more than the others), and its just so agreeable to have something in common with nice people.


I was also reminded time and time again this week what an utter embarassment I am/was to my race/ethnicity when I was forced to converse in proper Mandarin and realised it was more painful than studying it in school.

And that's REALLY saying something.

I did try my best, but it was not easy speaking to people in Hong Kong and then sending an email to China, and then trying to decipher a website entirely in Mandarin before having to give an interview in, you guessed it, Mandarin.

In living rooms all over Singapore tonight, I will be ridiculed and shamed. My parents' parenting ability will be questioned, and there will no doubts be conversations about the sad state of youth and their lack of respect for culture.

I AM SORRY!!!!

I will listen to more 95.8FM.



I really never did feel so ashamed about it before. Maybe because I never really had to try very hard. Taxi-driver conversations are easy to get around because you don't have to sound smart. Or at least non-idiotic.





Also. I do believe that Bruno is Sacha Baron Cohen's best character. Less on the slapstick, pile on the talk. Its probably the 'smartest' character around who allows people to make the mistakes themselves instead of creating a slapstick situation.

Another reason of course, is that he did to Giselle da Model what I've been dying to do for a long time. Go up to a random stranger and:

"HI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOW ARE YOU!? How have you been!? I haven't seen you in a while!? Remember the last time??"

Never have the guts and probably never will =(




Oh and if you didn't know already. I have a camera again.

Skin Deep

Choosing a model is quite a strange experience. Its an almost perverse feeling, that sense of power you have over women who are undeniably more beautiful than you. And yet, it is probably one of those things that you get used to over time. Passing snap judgements, unabashedly grading people by their looks. I'm not so sure I want to get used to it, but I suppose such feelings are already inherent in most of us.

I kinda like not having any control over who my subjects are.

Ramble Bamble

Just another one of those which will go on and on until I am forced to take a pause so that my wrist doesn't go into spasms. Mixing a shot of solid espresso and U2's 1993 Zooropa tour on repeat mode is bound to elicit some happyhappyhappy rambles.

In the National Library's study lounge trying to get a bit of work done. I officially do not do any work at home, mainly because I can't. Maybe after I've invested in a nice desk and nice table lamp and a filing system. Right now, there's an inconvenient lack of table space. Which is ridiculous, since I've two tables in the room.

But yes. The study lounge is full. It is the middle of the first month of the year - what are all these people studying for!?? It is very perplexing. I don't think January existed in my academic life. It was always Feb-May and July-Oct.

Had to do a simple assignment yesterday, ended up sitting in the middle of a tailor's learning about bespoke tailoring and exchanging sarcastic banter with the British old man who came to get his suit fitted.

I will never tire of sarcasm, deadpan faces, irreverance and self-deprecating humour. Its a crying shame that few people get it right. You have to be sincere about the self-deprecating people. Not a half-hearted attempt to fish for compliments. I don't know why I am so addicted to these things. Colonial hangover?


And then I went off for Grandma's birthday dinner.

Birthday dinners are always rather schizophrenic in my family. Unless we actually bother to head down to some restaurant, which rarely happens. It'll end up being a mixture of home-cooked food and stuff bought from outside. it is always slightly weird to eat KFC chicken and pizza together with chilli crab and horfun, and then steamed fish and bak kut teh. They just throw all the usual favourites on the table. So much for planning the menu eh?


Ooh. Just realised that three dudes with very well-chiselled arms (lean and toned, not chunky monkey) took the table in front of me. Well-chiselled arms, like irreverance, is rather addictive. Its hard not to stare. Give me a moment.


Hm.


Maybe the airconditioning unit will break down. Maybe they will decide its a good idea to study without their shirts on.


Hm.


Ooh. One of them just picked something up from the floor.




Pardon the irreverance.


I'll get back to work now.

Organs Plan Intervention

IN a valiant effort to save their environment, various organs in Jessica’s body have decided to stage an intervention on Wednesday.

“We know the last attempt kinda didn’t go the way it was supposed to, but we really have no choice but to keep trying,” said Brain, who felt slightly responsible for not playing a larger role in preventing the regression.

Liver, which only consented to a quick interview due to “poor health”, expressed gratitude that the other organs were similarly interested in rectifying the situation even if they were not the ones being affected directly.

“I’m sure they understood it was only a matter of time before they were in the same shitty state. I mean, I work twice as hard as any of the others.”

Liver pointed out that processing a couple of gin and tonics were a reasonable amount of work. However, as the couple of light cocktails gradually progressed to harder liquors being mixed with various beers and wine, “I started to get very pissed off because there's no such thing as OT pay in this shitty workplace.”

Most interviewed were not too sure how effective the intervention was going to be since they lacked the "surprise-and-corner element". Another source, who preferred to remain anonymous, said it was doomed to fail since Jessica had already agreed to a "meeting" with old friends on Friday.

"I mean, what are they going to do? Sit and talk and sip tea? I think we all know her better than that."

Having-One-Beer Plan Goes Awry

Today's headline is (similarly, and from now on, always will be) brought to you by The Onion Day-To-Day Calendar.

Having-One-Beer Plan Goes Awry

YPSILANTI, MI-Due to outside influence and unforeseen events, the having-one-beer plan that 29-year-old Keith Flemming devised at the outset of Monday evening went awry.

After receiving a news bulletin that

"Nato-led forces have killed up to 150 Taleban fighters in a battle in eastern Afghanistan",

I decided to once-and-for-all find out for sure which conflicts/wars are still going on.

I'm tired of reading things that make me say,

"Oh I didn't know they were even/still fighting."

So here's the List.

War On String May Be Unwinnable, Says Cat General

Today's headline is brought to you by the Onion 2007 day-by-day calendar.

No real reason for the blogging hiatus. Its just become a bit more inconvenient, is all. The internet connection is now primarily connected into the desktop comp in my brother's room, and I seldom find enough motivation or energy to unhook and restart.

In other more scintillating news, I finished off Buffy Season 7 over the weekend. I figured it was better to get it out of my system rather than think about it during the work week. Now I just want to watch it again, and it wasn't even that great. The Spike-Buffy thing was unconvincing, but because I want to believe it so much I willingly submit to denial. And after seeing Nathan Fillion (pleasant surprise), I want to watch Firefly again to wash off the bad taste of watching him as Caleb.

Work is beginning to pile up. I think I have it easier than my colleague, but then again he's smarter than me.



I miss having a camera.

Flooded

So I didn't get a chance to do the birthday blog. Whisked away to Muar to do some work for Mercy Relief. Is nice that Guiqing and Liwei's here as well.


So apologies to the few unanswered Merry Xmas smses.


Its not really that bad here. The hotel we're staying at is as posh as we could possibly get I suppose. Yesterday, I caught a couple minutes of Star Wars on cable. The breakfast buffet has excellent nasi lemak.

Its nice to see at least I still have my priorities in order.

But seriously, the flood areas we've visited are seriously submerged, as in knee-deep, waist-high, roof-reaching.

And in a very selfish and indulgent way, I'm happy to be back to Aceh-ish times in cargos and tshirts and messed up hair and my aviators, hauling stuff around like a coolie. A nice change from the month-long Emerald Hill get up.

Seeya'll soon.

Mmm Mmm

Just three things before the day unfolds:

1. The weather is fucking wonderful this morning.

2. Terz's camera is a god-send (in more ways than one), and now I want my own 5D.

3. The weather this morning is reallyreally wonderful.


Tralalala people!

Deep breath

So I've filed most of what I need to file for the inaugaral issue, and this weekend was series of deep, long breaths (and long long naps) as I get ready for the second.

After being out of the writing game for so long, it feels a bit nice to know that after three weeks, I can tell you what's a Reit, on top of naming the top richest men in Singapore, as well as tell you how many casinos there are in Macau and how much they are expected to earn by 2010, and oh yeah I also found out where Ivan Heng was educated and what the difference is between private, fund and wealth management is, and what are some ways hedge funds make money, and also that the PR lady working for A*STA**R has a melon for a brain, and how much CDL has in its land bank.

Its been a slow, ardous and very very painful couple of weeks. My ego has been bruised and beaten, incompetence-level raised to high alert, and I've fallen off the no-beer wagon.



On the plus side, I think I'm truely comfortable with the phrase "I don't need them/him/her to like me", and I discovered that professionalism at the workplace is truely underrated, and I am at heart still more conservative than I had expected. Also, I've reconfirmed my personal belief that 1. Respect is not guaranteed with Age/Experience 2. Respect has to be earned.

This is generally not good, because as my father would have me believe, I am an utter failure at hiding disdain.





Small kitty sits next to the laptop, eyeing me. She does that a lot. Sit prim and proper with paws in front, staring and staring and staring. She can do it for a long long stretch of time. Its almost as if she feels out of place. The girl they invited to the party because she just happened to be there when the invitations were being given out.

Who knew

I checked out the meaning of the word 'Jacuzzi' online:

1. a brand name for a device for a whirlpool bath and related products.
2. n : a large whirlpool bathtub with underwater jets that massage the body
3. a killing machine that snags victims with powerful evil suction






OH.

Full Glory

You.

Yes, you.

You with your fancy shirt and shiny shoes. I don't understand you. Your lifestyle, your mannerisms, your behaviour, and most of all - the arrogance that literally pours from your veins.

When I watch you, I feel like I am watching an exotic primate on display at the zoo. I know its a monkey, but my God, its like nothing I've ever seen.

Kopitiam : Monologue

Eh wah lau what you want to eat. The menu damn hard to read leh. I want the fruity drink. Huh but so many flavous ah. Mix them? Quite weird one leh. Nevermind lah.


Eh how ah, miss my rabbit leh. No lah how can, he pay the rabbit one leh. I take care and he pay. I think hor he very long never wash the cage liao leh. I tell him, if you don't want the rabbit to die right, you better wash lor.


Cos I am from express stream mah. And I die die don't want to do N level. I smart one what I can take O level one. But I stop school in Sec 3. Six years liao leh, you think you can just like that take O level meh cannot lah I tell you. I also don't want so long never study then like that go and take. How can?


You know ah, when we break up I take so long to get over him you know. Then ah when the hurt not so bad liao right, wah lau he come back then wah lau how can you like that, its like damn difficult you know.


You really don't want to try ah


No lah, I want to study lah. I want to get my O level. 18 years old liao I still don't have my O level, really fuck leh.

"Panel to probe why many youths taking the wrong path"

I giggled on the train quite badly when I read that in the papers.

But hey it was a successfully written headline because I read the whole damn article to look for more funny lines.

Can I please ramble now? Thank you.


What on earth do they mean by "Why"? Do we really need an Inter-Ministry Committee on Youth Crime? How about Inter-Ministry Committee on Bad/No Parenting? What about adults that are taking the wrong path? How can we abandon them?? We must figure out why they're taking wrong paths too! Shouldn't the headline read why MORE youths are taking the wrong path??

I shall now offer my suggestions as to why "many youths" are shunning the right and heading south.


1. Bad/Absent Parenting
2. Exposed to too many Gangster flicks as an infant
3. Better pay
4. Taking over family business
5. Not enough chicks on the right side
6. Hair just looks better messy
7. Bullied by class nerds when in primary school and determined to never be smart
8. Was a Saint in past life and is making up for it

Well, I Guess That Genocide In Sudan Must've Worked Itself Out On Its Own

June 8, 2005 Issue 41•23


I was pretty worried a year or so ago when the news came out that thousands of people had been indiscriminately slaughtered in Darfur. It was unsettling to hear that citizens of one ethnicity (Arab, maybe?) were systematically mass-murdering the population of some other ethnicity (Was it the Ganjaweeds? It's been so long since I've read their names!) But lately, the main stories in the news seem to be about Deep Throat, the new summer blockbusters, and something about stem cells. Since I'm sure I would have remembered if the U.S. had intervened in some way to stop it, I can only assume that the whole genocide-in-Darfur thing has somehow worked itself out.

Well, that's good news then, isn't it?

I also seem to recall that this genocide was causing a massive exodus of displaced refugees, with millions starving to death while attempting to flee to neighboring nations. Since I haven't seen any petitions or heard any emotional entreaties for somebody—anybody—to please, for God's sake, do something... Well, I'm gonna guess that the major humanitarian crisis must be over. And thank God, too! The whole situation sounded really awful.

Not that I wanted to be an alarmist, but when I first heard about the Darfur conflict, I thought to myself, "Uh oh! Sounds like another massive ethnic cleansing, not unlike Bosnia and Rwanda!" Those genocides sure were unfathomable! And not only because of the inhumanity of the acts, either—the blind indifference with which the world allowed the killings to continue unchecked was upsetting, too.

Well, someone must've invaded or overthrown a corrupt government or something like that. I know it wasn't the U.S., though. I may not be all that up on current events, but I do follow the news enough to know when my own country attacks another country. Maybe it was one of those genocides that solves itself without substantive international intervention. Well, that's one less horrific reality of modern geopolitics hanging over our heads!

Good thing, 'cause for a while there, it seemed like the Sudan situation was pretty serious, especially when both President Bush and Sen. Kerry talked about it in the presidential debates. Heck, that the Darfur conflict qualified as genocide was practically the only thing they agreed on! So, if both presidential candidates acknowledged on TV that genocide was taking place, it's pretty safe to assume that someone stepped in before more innocent victims were systematically butchered. Right?

What a great turn of events! Frankly, I'm relieved that all the horror, death, and human agony is over. I mean, after all those reports of ongoing murder, rape, and looting, I confess I was a little surprised when I didn't hear much more about it, beyond some international sanctions and aid packages. Ah, but what's the point in belaboring the grisly details? Why go on and on about which paramilitary militias were killing and raping which women and children? The important thing is that the conflict's apparently over.

Evidently, the hatred has been healed, peace has been restored, and the perpetrators of this unimaginable crime have been brought to justice. It sure is good to know it all must've turned out all right. It's like they say: No news is good news! Right?


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The Onion is not intended for readers under 18 years of age.

Speaking Loudly with a Small Stick

At least 200,000 dead, and 2.5m displaced.

" SINCE THE FIGHTING BEGAN BETWEEN Darfur rebel groups and the central government in Khartoum in 2003, several hundred thousand people have been killed, with millions more displaced to squalid, overcrowded camps. The government of Sudan bears the greatest responsibility for these deaths: Soon after the Darfuri rebellion, the government launched a counterinsurgency strategy principally aimed at wiping out the ethnic groups from which the rebels came.

To do that, the government bought off and armed individual ethnic groups in Darfur. With their proxy militia on the ground supported by government air power, the government systematically cleared out "rebel strongholds" (otherwise known as towns and villages), to brutal effect. By the following spring, refugees were flooding over Darfur's western border into Chad. "



And they said 'Never again'. Hm right.

Just received an sms following a 'Private Number' call which I answered only to hear silence.

"Helo i haf ur no in my sim card sorrie to dizturb ya i heard ur voice are u a gurl"




Aw such a keeper.




Update : 5 mins later


"My fren go back bangladesh i use his sim card bt let mi ask r u indonesia or phillipine girl?"


Yup definately a keeper.

It doesn't get more tragic than this

On wiki searching for some stuff and came across this:

"Tara Rose McAvoy, 18, reigning Miss Deaf Texas, killed by train while walking on tracks."

Apparently, she was smsing someone.




Yup.