They sounded too alike

A client was over at our office and was asking us whether we are able to handle projects that will require the use of Flash Lite. I returned him a blank look. Embarrasing, coz 1) I didn't know what it was and 2) the image of a similar sounding device was flashing in my mind.

I need a holiday. A sexy holiday.

Why I need some sleep

Was in the kitchen looking for something chilled to drink. Ah, 3 bottles of Lemon Lime and Bitters on the fridge shelf, leftover from a drunken night over the weekend. Whipped one bottle out, unscrewed the cap, took a swig. It tasted sweet...and spicy. Weird. I took a second look at the bottle.

It was the bottle of sweet chili sauce lah.

*facepalm*

Experimental sex gone wrong!

Man almost loses his penis humping steel bench!

Don't anyhow anyhow lah!

Dear stupid Singaporeans, NOBODY is telling you to wash the dishes lah!

Seriously, guys. Seriously. WTF!

Picture Credit: SoShiok.Com

Apparently our Prime Minister, in one of his points in his recent National Day Speech 2008, gave the suggestion that we help clear our trays after we finished our food, perhaps at Food Courts and Fast Food Restaurants. Though I doubt the man has ever seen the situation of our Food Courts, being one of the more privileged people in this world (tagged with a high price tag as well), at least he brought this to our attention.

Shortly after comes the rebuttals from the citizens, who needs to share their two cents worth about the following issue on the Internet. Sources: Soshiok.com , SgComplainHub , Tomorrow.sg

Says one: "We shouldn't generalize about returning tray equates social graciousness. Many of these foodcourt workers are old men and women and they need jobs."

Says another: "When I was in the army I also washed my plates, so I need to do this in food court too?"

Says, the most imbecilic one from all: "We don't return our plates it's because FREEDOM allows us to do that and there is NO LAW that indicate that we must return our plates."

This leads me to ask the following questions: Am I actually living alongside and surrounded by fecking morons such as them? Did they actually studied in the same schools as I did in this country?!

I mean, come on lah! First of all, you morons are not getting the message. Don't know how to read between the lines, har? The Prime Minister just wants to tell you to think for the next person who's going to be using the Food Court table. That is called having SOCIAL CONSCIOUSNESS! Never mind whether he/she is a Singaporean/PR/WP/SP Holder. Basic Courtesy! He is not telling you to put on your gloves and whip out your scrubs to do some dish-washing!

And yes, don't be stupid, those aunties/uncles would not lose their jobs just because you help them with the table-clearing portion of their job scope. I'm sure if this practice of self-service table-clearing continues, I'm sure their employers would busy them with other duties that goes on "backstage" in this Food Court Orchestra: which is sure to include throwing the stuff into dishwashers.

National Service teaches you to be independent. Forces you to do stuff which your mother or maid has been doing for you. Oh come on, I've never been enlisted into my army, but haven't we been taught the same things since childhood? Can't you apply the skills and knowledge you've learnt? In our school canteens in Primary or Secondary Schools, we had big buckets infront of canteen stalls, where we can put our plates and bowls and what have yous back. You're just doing the same thing if you're returning the trays.

Even in the Polytechnic where the canteens we had worked like Foodcourts, cleaners were hired to push their trolleys around to collect the crockery and give the tables a quick wipe-down. It so happens that around 15,000 of us were distributed in the 4 canteens around the school, so you can imagine the horrible lunchtime crowd and the difficulty of getting any available tables. And those were the days you would have found me having no qualms clearing the mess left by the previous patrons, and wiping down the table with tissue paper, just so that me and my classmates could have a table to have lunch on.

Even till this day I still don't mind clearing the tables just so I could have a table with my friends or colleagues: at coffee shops, fast food restaurants, food court. But of course I draw the line when it comes to places where I pay a hefty 10% service-charge. And these are actions coming from someone who hates doing housework!

I was at a Thailand University when I was 18, for an Asian debating competition (Not to debate, really, I'm a lousy debater), so expect debaters from everywhere in Asia. We had our meals in their canteens which served really horrible food. The 'proud' Singapore contingent did what we usually do back at home: left our cockery on the table. I remembered that one of the ladies, possibly from the organizing committee, approached us and told us to clear the plates ourselves, pointing to the stations we could returned it at. These people must have been thinking: "These first-world country snobs, snortsnort."

Lastly: Mr SgComplainHub, do you really need the law to tell you what to do? PREASE LAH, use your brain lah! "We don't return our plates it's because FREEDOM allows us to do that and there is NO LAW that indicate that we must return our plates." Yeah seriously, I think you belong to the same league of people who leave the junk at ZoukOut parties or those big countdown parties. Or drop your flyers infront of mailboxes. Boh Zheng Hu mah! But thanks for the suggestion! Perhaps we really do need a law to force morons like yourself into social-conscious creatures!

Returning the tray is just like holding the door for someone. Or giving up the MRT seat to someone else that needs it. Or holding the lift for the neighbor who's ushering his/her noisy kids to school. Or pressing the lift buttons. Tree-hugging hippie it may sound, but it's simple acts like that make this place a better place to live in.

Mr Lee is so right. "It's going to take time to change the mindset". Unfortunately you are right, Mr Lee.

Jesus is on Myspace. And he's looking quite hamsum too.

His profile:
About me:
Genesis 17:1- I am God Almighty

The Internet's down.

KNN, dunnoe what happened lah. I can't surf the net on my computer for the past 2 days. Use 2 different Internet Browsers also cannot!

Here's the summary:

1) There is nothing wrong with the Internet Connection: I'm still able to use MSN Messenger.

2) There's nothing wrong with the router the family's using: tested it with my mom's friend's Asus Eee.

3) I've switched off Windows Firewall already lah.. I don't even use it in the first place.

4) There's nothing wrong with my wireless adaptor as well.

Well, usually I do some googling to find solutions for any of mine or my friends' computer problems and many problems as well (mold and mildrew, anyone?), but now I couldn't do that. And running back and forth from my bro's computer, trying out different solutions is fucking leh-cheh.

Arrgh. So much for a Diploma in IT. Well my brother, armed with his Degree in IT, he also cannot solve the problem... so this is troublesome. Anyone got tips?

The hidden terrorist

Vote for Meh!

Harlie and myself love ICHC.

I could have been The Sexy Fragrance Prince.

One of my old webcomics, Fuzzy Animal Farm. The character, Spongebrain Tapered Mat, is a stereotype of Malay people, as well as the tapered-jeans wearing punks. My Malay friends loved the character and didn't mind it (only probably because they are my friends and they understood I meant no harm), but it didn't go down well on others (read the comments). I have discontinued the comics ever since, one of the reasons being that the comments did affect me in a way and made me thought through "my actions".

My current job requires me to assist the graduands of the school to collect their graduation gowns, so I meet plenty of 20 or 21 year olds, and the occasional matured ones around my age. Pretty fun job, with Charis (who's working with me as well) dropping by my workstation half the time during not-so-busy hours and we'll laugh over dramatic prairie dog & Charlie the Unicorn.

Last week there was a group of boys with a mix of ethnicity: Chinese, Malay, Indian. True life Poster Boys of Racial Harmony. MCYS will love them for their next campaign. They reminded me of the people I hung out with during my reckless school days. I liked these boys already.

The token Malay boy of the group needed to have his form reprinted. He took quite awhile at the computer station: not really his fault, because our online booking system isn't the most user-friendly. Boys being boys, being all boisterous, were pestering their Malay friend, saying all the Why so slow! and Faster lah. When I assisted the boy, the Indian boy of the group turned to me and said the following:

"You'll have to forgive him, he's Malay, he's abit slow."

And the entire gang, short of the Malay boy, all broke into raucous laughter. For quite a while they laughed (possibly half a minute), while their Malay friend simply smiled widely, with teeth and all. Not a flinch of anger on him, only because he probably heard this one a million times. And yes, I laughed as well.

Yes, it's only a joke. Malays are slow. A racial stereotype, a broad generalization of the group of people, that's how stereotype works. Of course that's not necessarily true, slow and stupid people exists everywhere. The thing is, the boys were comfortable enough with each other to be able to crack jokes like that, probably already utilized a whole bank of such jokes that could be found at TalkingCock.com. If you noticed, TalkingCock has categorized their jokes under "races", targeted at the major races of our country, looking like an attempt to balance things out", like a let's make fun of Everybody so no one takes us seriously enough to get offended thing.

But soon, the boys, when they graduate, go through National Service, and then progress to the working world, will learn along the way that this comfort level they have with each other should only exist between themselves, and doesn't go beyond that. Also, they have to remember that there are different type of friends: The ones who are going to tell you that you are right even when you are wrong, in order to placate you, and the ones who will tell you that you suck, when you really sucked, only because they genuinely want to help you.

Like myself, I've learned along the way that there are some issues & opinions which are bound to be sensitive, which you simply don't say to other people. You'll just learn when to keep your mouth shut up.Most of the time,it could be some stuff which I've accidentally blurted out without going through a brain process called "censoring".

You could be a Social Science student who went through ethnic studies with well-researched documents backing the stereotype. You could have heard it from your parents' mouth, them complaining about growing up with the other race. You could also be working in HR and sometimes given the "difficult task" of hiring someone of a "difficult race". Yes, must learn when to shaddup as well.

Yes, we have American entertainment shows like Family Guy or Harold & Kumar that thrives on racial stereotypes to squeeze some laughs out of you, but just because it makes you laugh and gain acceptance from many doesn't make it right.

Racial tolerance is tricky, and it's not only about doing house visits to your friends' house during Chinese New Year, or attending your Malay colleague's daughter's wedding. It's also not only about enjoying your Nasi Gorengs or Thosais or Satays. Your sensibility will tell you that it's way more than that. Along the way, you'll have major misconceptions of what you know about other people's religion & practices. Some of my friends actually bothered to explain to me of where I've gone wrong in terms of what I know, which is pretty generous of them. For that, I thank them.

Perhaps that was why FragrancePrince , just like aplenty of other Singaporeans who only hung out with people of their own ethnicity, said what he said. He didn't have the opportunity to make the mistakes I've made, and have friends from other backgrounds & religion to tell him No, that's not such a nice thing to say. Just keep this one to yourself or among us, okay?

But aiyoh, Sexy Fragrance Prince, why did you said what you said? Why did you put up a challenge like that?

To quote:

Even if you are a Malay and am reading this... good for you..coz this is my personal blog and i can say what i deem fit.... if u wana defend yourself.... i suggest you arm youself with education and a motor mouth to compete against me.. else dont bother... coz i will bet my life on the line that, should you challenge me in a conversation... you will lose like what a true malay would.... LIKE FUCK !!!

Well, I don't know how you going to defend yourself, now that you are probably going to get charged for sedition. Poor guy: it's not fair that the vicious blogosphere are reading through your past blog entries (oh no, is that another entry, calling an indian man "the black thing"?), scrutinizing every details to attack you, calling you a horseface & a himbo. If we're trying to be objective here, how you look and your wish to get ass implants has nothing to do with your racist post. But sadly, we all know that objectivity doesn't really exist in the real world lah, brudder.

Salah lah, friend.

Received an email from a friend who just set up a drama club and calling people in for auditions.

This was how he signed off at the end of the email:


Erm. I'm disturbed. There's something really wrong here. No doubt we're proud of our Polytechnic background, but in our country, we only sell ourselves with our qualifications if we have got degrees or our masters. Somemore, yours is a drama group, why the f do you need to tell people about your Diploma in Electronic and Computer Engineering for?

So, dear friend, I know you read my blog... do yourself a favour lah.

Circumcision doesn't mean "cutting the dick off"!

Taken from the funny blog of Jules, here's a conversation between two Malay girls which she overheard.

MG #1: "... Blah blah aku puki lobang square blah blah and I told him to go castrate himself."
MG #2: "Good reply!" (Pause) "Ehh, what does castrate mean?"
MG #1: "... ... I don't know. I think it's the same meaning as circumcise."
MG #2: "And what does circumcise mean?"
MG #1: "It has something to do with the kukujiao (SHE REALLY USED THAT OMGOMG) lah. Circumcise means to cut the dick off."
MG #2: "Ohhhh. So castrate and circumcise mean the same thing?"
MG #1: "Yep."

Upon reading this, my reaction was:


You cannot say that it's an honest mistake: perhaps the two words seemed the same because they both begin with the letter C and they both relate to surgical procedures to the male private parts, but the similarity ends there.

Circumcision is a procedure where they remove part, or all of the foreskin from the penis. Some guys do it for health and hygiene, and for the muslims, it's almost compulsory: also known as Bersunat in Malay: muslim boys have to go through in order to mark themselves a true muslim (Source) I don't know how it exactly works, so if you want to be further educated visually, there is always Youtube.

Castration occurs when you loose function of your testicles, or your balls (popular-speak), or your bolah(in malay). The procedure can also be summarised as "your balls being yanked off", thus disabling you from producing sperm, and of course you wouldn't be able to have children. In cases where a man contracts testicular cancer, he'll have to go through a castration, in order to remove the affected areas. People were castrated back then as a form of punishment back then as well! The Chinese men of ancient China, who became Eunuchs also voluntarily castrate themselves in other to work in the Imperial Service.

What's the correct word to use then?
Contrary to what the Malay Girl mentioned, both procedures does not (necessarily) mean "cut the dick off". For true blue "cutting the dick off", you could use the word Bobbitt instead. The word Bobbitt is popularised from the surname of John Bobbitt, a man who had his penis chopper-chopped off and flung out of a car by his wife (Source).

So, people, please use words that you understand lah please. *FACEPALM*

Wah your England is very Powder.

Spotted on the very first page of sgdriving.com, the site for private driving instructors. If you want to show off a customer testimonial, at least choose the one with no spelling mistakes and not written in really f4cked-up English, lah.

Break a leg, huh?

Yes, the image above is depicting my left foot. Yes, heavily-bandaged looking, in a half-cast. What happened, you ask? I met a CAR ACCIDENT: what a highlight in my otherwise monotonous life. If you happened to follow my Twitter updates ( which prior to the femes blogger Cowboy Caleb's wonderful little promotion, nobody really bothered about it) you probably already knew, but my buddy Harlie has been bugging me to update my blog about what has happened, and I've been granted too much medical leave, hanging around at home. So here you go:

"Before you cross the road, remember to look to your left, then to your right", that age-old advice that they've tried to drill into your head since you're a toddler are the very instructions I have failed to follow last Wednesday.

The story goes a little like this: I have two jobs, both temporary positions. Job A was with my ex-employer, who needed help to co-ordinate the works in shifting their office, and they needed more than just my brawns. Job B was a waitressing gig, at this small eatery which only operates in the evening. They don't pay much, but the boss and his wife are really, really cool people. Plus, loads of arty-farty types in this country's small art scene comes over: just last week I managed to strike up a conversation with a guy who's doing post-production work. I'm shamelessly doing some networking. But I digress.

And so I was trying to get from Job A to Job B, a little after 4pm. Job B starts at 5pm and I was running late already. And so I was awaiting for the ONLY feeder bus that will bring me to the MRT Station: now anyone who works at Toh Guan Road would tell you what a bitch Bus 183 is: the bus operates on a 15-20 minutes frequency, but sometimes you can wait up to 30 minutes for the friggin bus to arrive. On mornings it's chocked, bus after bus.

Bus 183 finally arrived, which was then I realised I've left my wallet at my workplace. Tardiness has always been part of my nature anyway, so I forgave myself quickly. I ran my way back to the office building, took the lift up, grabbed my wallet, said bye to the ex-colleague who was shaking her head in reaction to my tardiness, and took the lift back down. From the ground floor's lift-lobby I saw another Bus 183 approaching my bus-stop. It was a miracle for it to arrive in such a short time-frame! I made my dash across the road for it.

Little did I know, within the next few seconds, a car came my way. It all happened in a flash: I was knocked down, I fell on the road. I was very much conscious: no brains-splashed-over-road, no bones-sticking-outta-leg moment. When I tried to pick myself up my left-foot was throbbing madly, and Thom Yorke was still moaning in my through my earphones in one of those depressive Radiohead songs. The driver popped himself out of the car, and he looked totally helpless, not knowing how to react, only managing to splutter "Are you okay?"

He and a few pedestrians came dragged me to the side of the road. Some lady from a ground-floor office had rolled out an office chair and she made me plonk my arse on it. My left-foot was still throbbing mad and when asked whether I required an ambulance I replied "Yes, please". I made a few phonecalls while I await: first to the colleague of Job A and then to the boss of Job B. I told the colleague to come on down to retrieve the quotations/documents I had with me. I was the only waitress that night for Job B so he had to hurriedly find a replacement.

One of the witnesses that had helped me was telling me that it was my fault because the driver was actually driving real slow. A kid came forth and asked "what happened?" and witness said "you must cross the road carefully, okay". Yes, cross the road properly, kids. Or you may end up with a throbbing foot, cannot walk, like this stupid jie jie here.

The Civil Defence Ambulance came. My first ambulance ride. How very exciting: a mad childhood dream came true for I've always wished to ride on one of those vehicles that goes Bi Bo Bi Bo (or Ba Boo Ba Boo, whichever way you were educated). A buncha paramedics placed me on a stretcher : either I was way high or they were really good-looking.

Mr Driver passed me his namecard and I passed him my number. I told him "Don't worry lah, it's not your fault", but he told me to update him anyway.

As the ambulance drove away, they informed me that they were sending me over to NUH. I passed the good-looking lady paramedic my Identity Card without her asking for it. She then informed me that according to the traffic law "the pedestrian is always right", so I'm able to seek for compensation if required.

I guessed I was surprisingly calm, coping with my first mishap as a young-adult who still behaves like an irresponsible teenager half the time. Called my Financial Advisors and asked them whether the investment plans I had with them had any medical benefits. Nah, unless it's death or permanent disability. KNN. One of them told me I could actually use my Medisave to foot the bills.

It was a long ordeal in the A&E Department of NUH as the doctors tried to reach a verdict on my condition, and I wheelchaired myself around the place, made conversation with a random Malay family, and complaining constantly to the father ( who had came down an hour after I called him) that it was damn sian, but still managing to joke and laugh around with him, him calling me names like stupid girl and 小猪.

It was only when The Mother rushed over to the hospital, 4 hours after the mishap, did the waterworks started flowing when I laid my head against her familiar body.

I'll continue about my hospital stay the next time, lah.

Now you can request to ignore all the stupid Facebook applications!

There is a God afterall, Hallelujah! Or simply, very good sympathetic programmers in Facebook.

My very exciting Monday

The Dentist
The last visit I made to the dentist before yesterday was when I was 16. I'm 24 now. Seems like the advice which goes along the lines of have a dental checkup every 6 months have fallen upon very deaf ears. But who really follows that piece of advice, really?

I would like to believe I've a pretty healthy set of teeth. Firstly, every of them (except for one of them buggers*) are standing according to the formation of how human teeth should be lined, leaving no gaps for anyone to accuse me for copying Elton John or Madonna. Second: they're not gleaming white but none of them is threatening to drop out anytime soon. Thus the no-visits to Mr Dentist.

In the earlier weeks I was observing my appearance in the mirror to find some grey stuff above one of my front teeth. Grey. Hardened. Stuff. Sometime in our Primary School education many of us would have been told that this might be tartar, arrgh! Further investigation lead me to finding more of my front teeth with the same Grey Hardened Stuff. I need help.

So I paid a visit to Mr Dentist which was a block away on Monday afternoon. He was a young fella without all the Good Afternoon how are you today pleasantries and he went straight down to work as soon as my bum touched the reclining seat. Mr Dentist was vicious with my teeth, his sharp, drilling apparatus paid much attention to the gaps between them. My gums were threatening to scream damn you be gentle lah!

I never knew teeth cleaning takes merely around 5 minutes because he was finished as soon as he started. "Very dirty" he concluded "You must start flossing." And I paid SGD$50 for 5 minutes of torture. Hummpz, so unfriendly, and expensive. Dunch care, next time I'll choose to go to the subsidized polyclinic ones. But this time around: 6 months later, not 8 years later. I still need my smile.

The Printer + Fax
My very first bid upon eBay.com.sg, for a Dell printer which originally would set me back for around SGD$99, for only SGD$39. The guy that was selling it off said I could pick it up at his place in Punggol. In the evening I travelled from my Bukit Panjang Town to Little India (45 min), changed to the NEL Train (20 min) towards Punggol MRT Station, and hopped on to the Punggol LRT Line (another 7 min). Halfway across the country later did it occur to my tiny brain that "Hey, I'm buying something from this guy. Shouldn't it be HIM doing a cross-country affair for me instead?!"

Met the guy, cash and goods exchanged hands. Nice indian chap, really, but not a smiley person. On the LRT I noticed that his 2nd name was PRATAB, as printed on the box label. I can't help but sniggle.

While lugging the huge printer around, there was a girl wearing a pair of black skinny jeans which I would love to own, and I suspected I was staring at her legs far too long to make her turned around to me to ask:

Girl in skinny jeans: You need help?

Me with huge box and This Fashion plastic bag (tak glam to the max): No, it's okay.

Girl in skinny jeans: Oh, it's an empty box, is it?

Me: Erm... no, its heavy. But its manageable. Thanks!

Whatever makes her think its empty? But whatever, she was lovely. Some people are just nice. Same goes for the people that offered me seats during my various modes of transport home.

And now I've got a printer+scanner, sitting nicely on the spot on the table that would usually be occupied by untidy junk. I just destroyed the ink cartridge accidentally by peeling off too much of the foil on the surface. I guessed I have to pay another $30+ more for a new one.

So much for travelling all the way to Punggol for a cheap deal. Cheebye lah.

Pole Huggers

I don't know what the heck these buggers are doing.

Doraemon and Teddy

These fellas are up to no good... as usual. Morons :P

Crazy Bunnies

by Nerderella

You can get these guys for me, anytime :) Love the facial expressions!!

Chio looking Chio

Chio means beautiful in Hokkien. Hokkien is a crude sounding dialect that's not very classy. But I made it look pretty classy with Arial. The power of a well chosen font!

The graphic above looks suitable for a woman's magazine. Would you buy a magazine called Chio? Chio can pass off as a Japanese word, you know. Alot of people like Japanese stuff.

Sir Robin!

Best tune from Monty Python & The Holy Grail!



Bravely bold Sir Robin rode forth from Camelot
He was not afraid to die, O brave Sir Robin
He was not at all afraid to be killed in nasty ways
Brave, brave, brave, brave Sir Robin

He was not in the least bit scared to be mashed into a pulp
Or to have his eyes gouged out and his elbows broken
To have his kneecaps split and his body burned away
And his limbs all hacked and mangled, brave Sir Robin

His head smashed in and his heart cut out
And his liver removed and his bowels unplugged
And his nostrils raped and his bottom burnt off
And his penis...

Singapore got super hero meh

Singapore Superheros!

Now, here's a fucking good one from Talking Cock. Especially the one about the Civil Servants, heeheehee!