Meandering Thoughts II

Read the papers, both local and international. Process. Analyse. Highlight if anything relevant.

Go through department's work-in-progresses and various accounts. Deadlines. Chase. Follow up.

Account / Brand discussions. Evaluate. Propose. Set deadlines.

New account director always ends meetings with "ok, good meeting, bad meeting, waste of time?" Ha ha.

Gazing out of window. Enjoy view.

Starbucks time. The walk to the joint is always a calming experience. Inhaling the aroma of brewing coffee whenever stepping in. Frapp for the win.

Lunch time. Hustling bustling crowd. Joining the queues. "1 please, packet yes." Need fruits. Damn fiber.

3pm lull. Need a break. Log onto blog. Hence you're reading this. Hah!

Emails waiting to be answered, reports to be vetted / approved. Sigh.

Sms from friend. Dinner? Nah. Lunch? Maybe.

Sms the boyfriend. Meeting up? Maybe. Haven't had sex in months. Sigh.

Courier delivery. Client sent basket of wines and cheese. Wow. Yum. *burp*

Elusive client. Don't ya scream at me when deadline is missed bitch.

MSN beep. Some random gossip / cry for help / bitching session.

MIght have to work overtime but WoW raiding beckons. Looks like dinner is eat in.

Miss Ah Boy.

Human Rights Vs. Effing F1

Read this.

"Lawyer Kala Mohan, on the other hand, echoes a long-held sceptic's view — that Singapore does not need a human rights body, for we have good laws already in place."

The sheer fucking HYPOCRISY of it... not to mention the idiocy of which ever freaking toad in CNA who wrote that piece of crap.

Why? Well, apparently I'm living in a country (not that it's any news to me) that manages to ram through a bill allowing casinos, street car drag racing (whatever), bartop dancing faster than one can imagine but when it comes to HUMAN RIGHTS, it treats it like we're talking about buying or building a say, gladiatorial bull fighting ring.

It's a "nice to have", but it might not be "Singaporean". Yes, from the way Singapore speaks of Human Rights, it's like talking about starting a bull fighting culture here. Equally relevant and important. Get it?

So what's gonna happen from here? Our bullshit Government will hem and haw about this for a while, and then quietly shelve it for the next X number of years while it plays it song and dance about having brand new gambling dens and F1 racing, distracting it's citizaens about soaring inflation and CPI rates, lessening returns of CPF, irresponsible handling of our national reserves by Temasek Holdings, lowering of minimum wages due to fucking Foreign Talent.

Oh by the way isn't it sweet irony that thanks to our beloved Foreign Talent 106 people has come down with food poisoning due to Prima Food's embrace of our government's cheap labour scheme? So much for "leavening" our population with foreign "talent". (Sorry, couldn't resist that pun).

Faded Glories

The thought hit me over the weekend as I was out in Orchard, having my haircut, doing some light shopping, gaming etc.

This month would see me hitting 28. Twenty fucking eight. 11 years ago when I first dated seriously, my bf then was 28 and all his friends were teasing him for being a "cradle snatcher". Today should I date someone below 20, I'm sure I'd be termed the same.

Not that I want to. Have had enough of bottom "geenas". *shudder*

Anyway, I digress. I looked at myself in the mirror this morning prior to stepping out for work. In a fit of pique at the salon, I told my stylist to crop off everything. The last time I did this was 2002, right smack on my birthday when I had shorn off my shoulder length blonde hair. *wince*

THe effect back then was startling. My face was constantly behind a veiled of expensively maintained locks. For 2 1/2 years I hid my face from myself in a whirl of club lights, on & off stage drama and sex. Facing myself, I was gaunt from overwork as a starving dancer, I was deeply tanned and I was constantly bitchy, nasty and cold. As I looked myself in the eye seated on that barber's chair, I didn't like what I saw.

Today 5 years later, I'm alot older. Overweight and tired. I've been through really shit times in the past 2 years odd, but I've also experienced exquisite happiness. Growing up in recent times saw alot of tears, frustration, despair and fear.

Looking ahead, the immediate future is fraught with worry. Looking around me, my close friends are beset with their own problems and tribulations in life. We're all getting older and wiser. But sometimes life throws you a curveball and you fumble trying to cath it and be back in control.

Look at yourself in the mirror. 5 years from now what do you hope to see in that same but yet changed reflection?

Bummed Out

Feeling totally crapped cos' my PR campaign ideas for an upcoming pitch, was shot to pieces by my boss.

He said they were good ideas, but I had overlooked / forgotten / ignored the overall campaign (Advertising + Media Buy) direction. Mine was totally off on a tangent.

Rather crushing to sit in the meeting and hear my ideas kena shot down. Not to mention embarassing, mortifying.

"You're a manager, I don't expect to hold your hand and tell you what to do. But when you tell me what you want to do, you better be sure it's backed up soundly."

My team's having low morale now. Gotta cheer them up, but not much I can do considering the pitch is in 4 hours time.

Sigh.

Meandering Thoughts

As I'm typing this, my eyes are constantly drawn to a pretty stunning view of Chinatown area from my new office. Despite the rather cramped nature of my workspace, I'm simply delighting in the exuberant creative atmoshphere in my new surroundings.

No more angsty stuffy bitchy lesbians. No more dull-as-yesterday's-milk colleagues who think that mall decorations are so "happening". No more loud ah bengs haggling over the pricing of plywood structures or cheesily blaring tacky polyphonic ringtones from similarly garishly decked out handphones.

Yesterday I saw soemone in the office sporting a Harry Winston for gawd's sake! I've never been so conscious of what I wear to work before in my life hahaha...

In a rather ironic twist, my window looking out from this rather chic steel & glass building overlooks my former tacky office at People's Park Centre. Ha!

Anyway, I'm a little behind the news. I just found out that Albus Dumbledore is gay and I just stumbled across Thio Li Ann's rather passionate speech in Parliament. Good stuff. And here I was just happy that we downed Leotheras last week. (WoW reference, doesn't matter if you don't get it. I'm such a geek)

I gotta say, for all that the Alex Au and Stuart Koe tribe wanna hurl anti-homo labels at Prof. Thio, the woman has some rather compelling points. A huge positive-PR spin was done on her by ST today.

I gotta say, our SPH seems determined to paint her as a lone champion of moral rights, rather Joan of Arc-ish like, while the activitists' camp is looking rather shabby in the public eye. Alfian's email telling her to Eff-off & wanting to pee on her grave didn't help much. Stupid queen. Lol. Stick to writing plays lah.

I do wanna ask all the pro-gay activists out there though, now that the dust has settled and the battle lines are looking faded and rather out of place in the wake of the Govt going "No ass fucking for you", what's next?

It's all nice and cheery to hear cliche lines like "We've raised awareness" or "At least we get to discourse" or even lamer "we're grateful & amazed at the level of support", so what? The law hasn't changed. For all the emotional chest beating and drama, what has changed for the average gay guy in Singapore that wasn't different 6 months ago, or hell, 1 year ago?

I'm just glad I didn't bother to attend some silly rally a friend invited me to. I wouldn't have completed my tier 4 that night then hahaha...

My Take On The Repeal377a (Crap)

First off, I'm gay. I'm mostly out to everyone from my family, friends, NS buddies, former church friends to some of my colleagues.

Yet I find all these call-to-actions by gay rights activists to be rather shallow and frankly, hypocritical. Why? Mainly because alot of said homosexuals aren't even out to their immediate friends and family, living their lives as normally as one can except that well, one's gay.

This little step, coming out of the closet, is something a huge majority of gay people are unwilling to do.

Now before one gets all "yeah but it's because there's a law banning gays!" let's clear things up. By law, it's not a crime to BE gay, merely a crime to well, commit said acts that make you gay. I've told a police inspector in his face before "Hey I'm gay" and he gave me a look that said "So?"

Being gay is not grounds for arrest. Screwing a non female's arse (or maybe even female, I'm not sure here) or receiving a blowjob by a non female lands you in jail etc. Ok fine. But unless you choose to commit those acts in public I don't really see how one gets arrested for it. And throughout my 12 years of being gay in this country with a rather prolific sex life has never landed me in jail before. So what's the fuss all about?

Seriously, there are bigger issues out there. "Championing" this cause is but pandering to the very skewed agendas of a very few minority, all blown up and out of context.

I can't say I trust THIS government to do the right thing and change the laws to be more non discriminatory, but I find the self righteous whingings of a group of activists who themselves, run gay bath houses that provide facilities for gay sex, to be a tad "conflict of self interest" to even want to be caught up with it.

Harry Fucking Potter & The Fucking Convenient Moments

So I finally wasted 53 bucks on the last instalment of the Harry Potter series and yup, J.K Rowling did not disappoint. If the 6th book was trash, the 7th surpassed it.

Before I go on bitching about it, if you are gonna ask WHY do I read it then? Well I can't possibly bitch in the face of the mindless gormless HP fan I meet on the street if I haven't read it first right? I swear the next idiot who tells me in a simpering tone that "oh my hobbies include reading. I read Harry Potter" is gonna get a fucking roundhouse bitch-slap in the face.

J.K Rowling is not an author. She's a fucking soap opera writer. And a bad one at that. Think Days of Our fucking Lives.

Firstly, the entire series has gone to trash after Prisoner of Azkaban. Now why I say after Prisoner, cos' frankly before she hit that stupid reality tv show kinda fame, she had actually written the series up to that point. Yes Prisoner was the last book she had time to complete before she became a celebrity. So she was actually serious about writing back then.

But ever since then, she has taken her writing to a whole new level. Characters are shoved in without a thought, convenient sub plots and storylines are established within a sentence. Glaring loop holes and mis-logic are covered up because she engages in one main and I would say, only form of writing. That of the first person perspective.

Which is such a fucking cop out. Oh she needs something to have happened here but it didn't happen in the previous books! Oh never mind, if Harry doesn't know about it, the author doesn't either and hence you the reader either.

The moment of utter disgust for me came when Harry Potter found Albus Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth.

Who is none other than.. the Hog's Head barman!!! yes, the owner of the very same place that HP & gang chose to have their first meeting of the DA. And how many books it has been since... 3? 4?

And not once was there ever a hint that that was Dumbledore's brother! Cos' why? She didn't think so either! What a fucking cop out!

The rest of the book is utter trash. The whole thing about Snape being secretly in love with HP's mum and all that.. total trite and convenient bullshit. Totally.

I guess that's what you get for writing books in starbucks-like cafes and signing autographs every few mins or so to your hordes of mindless idiotic fans sitting outside watching with bated breath every time you hit a qwerty key.

I can't believe trees were actually killed for this crap. That's the biggest crime of the century to my mind.

Please Don't "Gimme More" Britney...

Maaaan, whoever's doing her PR ought to be shot.

Last seen and heard about Britney - Totally rushed marriage with that lame K-Fed guy ('fess up, who here didn't go "I give them a year" when you read about the wedding?), that whole nonsense about driving without a seatbelt and her kid, the divorce, her wild partying and showing her panty-less *cough cough*, her infamous shaving of her head, getting arrested again for DUI?... now her husband's suing for more custody over the kids and all...

So which lame brain came up with the bright idea of putting her on stage looking bloated in that skimpy outfit???

Her dancing was mechanical, her dancers out-energied her like by 10 times, the song is as forgettable as a detergent ad.

Sigh.. I'm a huge Britney fan, don't get me wrong (I did 2 of her local launches here after all) but I'm just hugely disappointed.

Geeky WoW Post :P

http://the4thwall.livejournal.com/10749.html

Decided to just link it because well, it's a) picture heavy and b) totally geeky lah!

Fed Up

I'm just have had FUCKING it with the work politics.

The background...

I'm working in a pretty established and awesome company, doing events planning and management. I have a fantastic GM, and her dad who is the MD is prety nice too. I mean, he got a box of godiva chocs as a gift and proceeded to walk round the office feeding everyone! Lol.

But my peer, who is also the default head of the dept. , is a perfectionist bar none when it comes to work. I won't go into the little office politics she's done yet.

I engaged my best friend. Yes I can hear the choruses of "NOOOO!!!" coming from all you silent readers out there. I know the time worn cliches about "friends can't be colleagues" and all that. I still made the choice and was prepared to live with it. We both know and understand our shortcomings, he knows my temper and how I handle things and for me, I need a good friend in the office to back me up from time to time. He's creative if not derailed, hardworking if not stressed. Well, whatever.

My best friend was hired into a position I myself held 4 years back. I was prepared for him to stumble around for awhile before he eases into it. Despite him having had some background previously, I knew it was not as extensive as this one and I was prepared to make up for his shortfalls come whatever they may.

What I was NOT prepared for nor forsaw...

My fellow peer and manager, aka the Lesbian, making life hell for him. I mean, you put a perfectionist together with a scatterbrain like my best friend and all drama breaks loose. I should have forseen this right? In this case, frankly I'm being made to be the biggest fool of all.

It doesn't help that another colleague, hired into the same position as my best friend, has performed and outstripped him in every way imaginable. She's conscientious, bubbly, cheerful, initiative-driven, takes responsibility for her work, looks out for her manager (the Lesbian) and even takes the car out and drives round for events and such. Essentially, the dream executive one should have hired.

Things are coming to a head whereby reviews are pending. My GM told me expressly that my best friend goes (nobody is the office is wise to exactly HOW good friends we are) only on my say so. On the other hand the Lesbian is pushing to hire a new executive and has already started interviews!

One comment made by the Lesbian which was rather chilling, "He is pulling your peformance down".

I dread coming to work these days. Losing a big account over the weekend didn't help matters, but my boss was very reassuring and told me to overlook it, she definitely does. My position in the company is pretty much stable and I'm being tasked to plan somethig for next June.

But the tension between my best friend and the Lesbian is so palpable, get a headache just thinking about it. I know where she's coming from, she has every right to be as demanding and bitchy as she is. I can't really make a beef about setting high standards and structures. Unfortunately it's often seemed to be targeted at my best friend. And despite his constant assurances that he will do better, it's simply just not happening.

A good friend once commented "If you chose to hire your best friend, you have to face the fact that you have to fire him as well".

Transient Life

Just found out that 2 people I knew previously, one an ex-colleague/dance friend and the other my ex employer, both passed away recently.

It's a huge shock. Both were in the prime of their lives. One's a star performer, up and coming and the other has been credited with founding Fridae.

It really goes to show you shouldn't take those around you for granted.

In remembrance of Ishi.

In remembrance of Robert Yeo

Missing You, Mum

I remember when you used to tuck me in at night
With the teddy bear you gave me that I held so tight
I thought you were so strong you'd make it through whatever
It's so hard to accept the fact that you're gone forever

I never knew I could hurt like this
And everyday life goes on I wish
I could talk to you for awhile
Miss you but I try not to cry
As time goes by

And it's true that you've reached to a better place
Still I'd give the world just to see your face
And be right here next to you
But it's like you're gone to soon
Now the hardest thing to say is
Bye

Regret

At the risk of sounding emo, I will confess to something.

I broke down and cried in the shower today.

Exhaustion from 4 days out in the f**king field, haven't eaten all day today due to the craziness of out process, frustration from things on the work front, the pain of seeing my mum go through cancer & chemo treatments, the simple happiness of seeing my Ah Boy again, the solitude of being by one's self.. everything just broke through and I cried.

The past few weeks have been tumultous. I've experienced rage, disappointment and regret both in my personal life and at work. I felt achievement for my efforts during reservist, but prior to that I nearly screamed in sheer frustration while pushing myself to my physical & mental limits. I was proud over the change in me from what I was 2 years ago, I felt ashamed for my lack of progress (regress even) in other areas.

The shock of feeling the exquisite pain (of loss?) when confronted by my ex's flat when dropping off a campmate was not something I was prepared for. He committed suicide a couple of years ago and it was surreal walking up the stairs to his flat. Don't ask me what drew me there but facing that empty well of loss at my feet, I felt regret. I went home laden with heavy thoughts and feelings. Once again I asked myself what I could have done and that blank wall of non-answers was as solid as ever.

I feel like I'm desperately grasping for resolve & strength to push on, with anything but it's so tempting to just bow down, give up and just not be.

This is not a cry for help, but then again, if I needed to, would I know how?

Shut The Fucking Hell Up Lah!

Every local media is bombarding us non stop on why it's good to increase the fucking MP's salaries, we have our pathetic Teo CH's lame excuses and justifications on how the benchmarks are fair and "transparent", we have bootlickers like Irene Ng and Vivian gagging to praise their overlord to the fucking high heavens non stop, and we have the 147th describing in breathless detail on how our queeny PM "spoke in a choked and emotion-filled voice" to let us know if we don't pay his greedy cohort enough, he might be without a job?!

WHAT-FUCKING-EVER LAH!

As if we don't know it's a bloody forgone conclusion already. It was the same with the casinos (call it whatever they want, its a fucking casino at the end of the day!), it was the same with the HOTA & that poor Mr Sim's family issue, it was the same with the GST increase. IT WILL ALWAYS BE THE FUCKING SAME DEAL over and over again so shut the fuck up I don't need to hear any more about it.

But just for good ol' nostalgia's sake, here's ANOTHER exampled on how our idiotic despots have to eat their words over and over again.

"Political entrepreneurs needed for success : SM", 147th The Straits Times, 02 Nov 1994


Qute : "At the end of the day, it is $5 million more. What on earth are we arguing about?"

It was now time to abandon tradition and opt for a new method of paying ministers, he declared.

He predicted that in five to 10 years' time, the benchmark formula would have succeeded and would be accepted as conventional wisdom, just as other policies pioneered by Singapore ministers had been adopted by other countries....

....'There can be no end to this argument. I read what Walter Woon says - let's have a referendum.

"The people at large...Are they in a position to judge? Is it within their range of experience? I have been through this life and had I lived a different life in Lee & Lee, I would never have this experience.

"Because I have gone through this, I say 'do it'. I am in a position to judge.

"I say I am prepared to put my experience and my judgment against all the arguments the doubters can muster.

"In five to 10 years, when it works and Singapore has got a good government, this formula will be accepted as conventional wisdom."

---------------------------------------------------------
It's 13 fucking years later and your people are still not happy. Our elderly have to work as cleaners in public toilets, pick up cardboard and used cans to make a living, people are choosing to die on MRT tracks every other week because f your outdated conventional wisdom. You were boycotted by Australia's politicians and booed by cohorts of truly intellectual students. You are a has-been so shut the fuck up, Lee Kuan Fucking-Yew.

Fuck You, Advertising Industry.

Dear Advertising Industry,

I am the new consumer, and you are wasting my time.

You've been wasting my time for many years now, and I've finally gotten tired of it; so tired that the time has come to introduce myself to you, because it is clear you have no idea who I am.
Therefore, I'd like to take a few minutes to set you straight.

I don't care about you. At all.

Occasionally, you may amuse me with your clever commercials. Once, I remember pausing at a particularly beautifully-shot magazine ad... though I can't tell you which one it was, because every day I'm bombarded by beautifully-shot magazine ads, and they've all become a blur of nothingness. And that's the reality of it for you, right there in a cozy little nutshell: advertising is just one big blur of nothingness.

Your response has been at once predictable and utterly mystifying. You believe that shoving more and more advertising at me is going to make me sit up and take notice. It's such a flawed methodology that I can't help believing you are all out-of-touch dunderheads waving your arms in a hysterical frenzy of ignorance. Just who are you targeting with your ad-heaped-upon-ad approach? Surely not me, because I gave up paying attention a long time ago. I have far too many other diversions to capture my attention.

I am the new consumer. Ten minutes of searching on the web taught me more about the product you're flogging than entire campaigns you've created over a ten-year span. Did I spend those ten minutes combing through your minutely-designed interactive Flash website? Dream on. I went to the source: the people that have already used your product, and have something to say about it. And the really real kicker? It wasn't your ads that introduced me to the product in the first place!
Someone on a blog mentioned using it, and since she and I share a lot of likes and dislikes, I figured I'd check it out.

You people make no sense to me. Are you really that entrenched, that disconnected from reality? How do you manage to convince companies that they need you and your idiotic, pointless, instantly disposable ads? If you're so elite, so godawfully cool, how is it you've managed to drift so far from the cutting edge of culture? Is it possible that you're pretty much the animated corpse of years past? A ghost of 1950, come to haunt the people of the present?

I am the new consumer. I only buy the things that matter to me, the products that speak to me. Do you want my business? I believe you do not. If you did, you would come searching for me - and you would find me. In this hyper-connected world, there is absolutely no excuse for the inability to discover and ferret out people like me, the new consumers. What excuses do you offer for failing? If I can find you when I want to, why can't you find me when you want to?

It is my opinion that you have become meaningless in today's cultural climate. You, the advertising industry, are a dinosaur past your time on earth.

Not only are you meaningless, you're far too cocky for your own good.

You waste my time, yes; but that isn't so horrible by itself. Lots of things waste my time. I waste my own time... but I do it on my own terms, because I enjoy wasting my time, and I waste my time by doing the things I like to do. On the other hand, you waste my time... and in the process, you treat me like an idiot, which only goes to show just how out of touch you really are.

I guess I'll be the one to announce it. I am far from the mindless sheep you expect me to be. I am savvy. Sophisticated. Networked. I know more about what I want than you do, and your attempts to force-feed me crap do not work. No ad you create is going to sway my opinion. I might chuckle; odds are, I won't pay any attention. Do you want to know a secret? If I'm not TiVo-ing, I'm muting when the commercials come on. And I'm not watching much TV anyway, you'll notice. There are far too many other interests for me to pursue, and television is just a mindless exercise in winding down before I go to bed. Emphasis on the mindless; I am divorced from television, and don't really care about those ads.

You don't provide me with anything. Your advertising may as well be a void to me. Do I come to you, asking about the products you're hawking? Do you really think I remember the products you hawk in the first place? Please. Give me more credit than that; I am an active consumer, and haven't a bit of passivity left in my pinkie to offer you. Feed me your lines, and I'll just puke them back up, covered in vitriol.

You are out of touch, advertising industry. You show no interest in moving on, of adapting to my needs. That is why you are failing. I am the new consumer, and if you want me, you have to engage with me. You have to come to me, and you have to do it on my terms. I am far more intelligent and informed than you, and I am in control. Until you believe that - until you own that - you are worthless.

You want me to buy things. You tell your clients that you can convince me to buy. You lie to them, and they pay you for your lies.

Products have become extraneous. This is a me-too climate, where everything looks the same and does the same thing. Your response? To promote that mentality by producing even more me-too advertising. You talk of differentiation, but you don't walk the walk. You aren't willing to break out of the me-too mold, and that is why I do not care about you. I am an individual, but you can't grasp the concept of the individual, much less the reality of the individual. When will you learn? "Lifestyle branding"? Puh-leaze. You can't even be bothered to talk to me about my lifestyle, much less provide me with anything I want. You still think showing me pictures of pretty girls wearing pretty clothes is going to make me buy a watch, or a bottle of beer, or a new pair of pants. You have never been so wrong. I'll look at the pretty girls, I promise. But when I'm done, I'm going to go and search for the pretty girl in your ad, not the product you're selling.

Bombarding doesn't work; pushing your products on everyone from trailer homes to multi-million dollar mansions is not effective. You want me? You have to come and get me, and that means a radical shift in the way you do things. Until you can admit that we are a fragmented marketplace, that we are individuals who are only interested in dealing with other individuals who share our interests and likes and dislikes, you are doomed to our hatred.

But have hope. I am the new consumer, and I am forgiving. If you can impress me, in my own arena and on my own terms, I can warm to you.
But my time is precious, and my interest is fleeting. Offering me a cup of air will get you nowhere. I demand substance for my time, and I demand it now. Not tomorrow, when you've gotten around to researching me and pegging my profile. And to make it harder - to make it more interesting - I am not going to be forthcoming with my information.

This has nothing to do with CRM. It has nothing to do with swooshing logos, or spectacular websites.

It is your job to reflect my passions, my ideals, my interests. Gone are the days when you could expect my attention, or at least trap it.
I am the new consumer, and I have become more sophisticated than you ever were. You may pretend to understand me. You may coddle me, tell me I'm beautiful and worthwhile. You may... because I will see through you in an instant, and it really won't matter to me because I will dismiss you just as quickly. Unless your approach is genuine, and genuinely aligned with my approach, you will fail utterly and miserably.

You have to work for my attention, because you know what?

I am the new consumer, and I am in the driver's seat.


Yours sincerely,
The New Consumer

At The Gym

The gym that I work out at caters to alot of working professionals. That however never gave me a so called upper class feeling or whatever, I first joined that gym chain back in 2001 and to me, the higher premiums doesn't mean anything social status wise or what so ever.

But apparently some people think it's a pretty big deal. From the messy ways they use the equipment to loudly demanding service at the front counter to the snobbish attitudes over the selection of lockers, it's like as if being a gym member very hoity toity lor.

Today something classic happened in the gym.

I was just finished with my workout and I sat on the bench in the locker room, catching my breath. (Fine I'm fat and I pant slightly more now after every work out.) Now throughout the day at the gym, be it peak hour or whatever, the average profile of the gymmers are rather much the same. They fancy themselves as high flying professionals, constantly checking their Blackberries on the treadmills and discussing stock options on the gym floor, loudly comparing COE prices for their latest 2-litre cars and which gym acquaintance they saw at the last condo open house whatever. It's so trite you really wanna laugh over the silly poseur-ness of it all.

2 such typical corporate types were hamming it up at the locker room bench, loudly proclaiming to each other whatever stock market crap deal they had observed etc. Down the row of lockers I saw an Indian guy walking towards us. I really didn't give the oncoming guy much thought.

The taller of the talking pair, a Chinese guy, already dressed back in work clothes after his shower, was clutching his bag ready to leave with his wet towels in the other hand. Out of the blue he turned round and tossed the wet towels (2 of them usually, a bath and a work-out hand towel) at the Indian guy and said "Thanks mate!".

He thought the Indian guy was a cleaner! Now I really don't understand how that mistake could be made cos' firstly, he was dressed in basketball shorts and a tee shirt; cleaners in the gym have a kind of obvious polo green tee shirt and pants outfit. Secondly, well.. there is no "secondly"! He didn't resemble a cleaner in any way! Duh!!!

There was like, 5 secs of awkward silence as his conversation partner, the Indian guy and I came to the above conclusion. The sheer cheek of it!

I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing in a bwa-ha-ha-ha manner on the spot.

The Indian guy dropped the wet towels with this utter digusted look expression and said in a tone that lowered the air-conditioning by another 10 degrees, "The towel bin is that way."

I couldn't contain my laughter as the Chinese guy red-facedly scooped up the towels, inched past the indignant Indian guy and practically dashed for the bin and the way out, leaving his flummoxed friend behind in the locker room.

And they claim I'm racist. Pfft

The WHAT Industry?!?!

I am not sure if I should be flattered or insulted that my colleagues dumped this in my in-tray this morning.

The title heading the document, replete with a Republic of Singapore insignia was "INVITATION TO TENDER -FOR- FOR APPOINTMENT OF CONSULTANT TO DEVELOP A SET OF ACCREDITATION STANDARDS AND ASSESSMENT FRAMEWORK FOR THE LOCAL DATING INDUSTRY".

"The WHAT industry?" was my reaction.

I read on further.

"1.1 On 17 Nov 2006, the Ministry of Community Development, Youth and Sports (MCYS) announced new initiatives to raise standards in the local dating industry.

1.2 As the local dating industry becomes more developed with the emergence of new players, it is timely to raise professional standards in the industry through accreditation to give singles the confidence to use services provided by private sector agencies.

1.3 This accreditation scheme will be introduced for the local dating industry in mid-2007. Accreditation standards would be applied to both dating agencies and dating practitioners. The accredited agencies will carry the Social Development Unit (SDU) Trust Mark."

Am I the only one who finds it laughable that we actually live in a country that has to depend on a set of government regulations on match making agencies for DATING?! Even if you attend a SDU event, are Singaporeans so mindless and spineless that they can't detect scams and what-not using their own common sense?! What's next? Laws regulating fucking?! Oh wait we do have some of those...

Sigh.

72 Virgins by Steve Martin

This is HILARIOUS.So which one are YOU?

Virgin No. 1: Yuck.
Virgin No. 2: Ick.
Virgin No. 3: Ew.
Virgin No. 4: Ow.
Virgin No. 5: Do you like cats? I have fourteen!
Virgin No. 6: I’m Becky. I’ll be legal in two years.
Virgin No. 7: Here, I’ll just pull down your zipper. Oh, sorry!
Virgin No. 8: Can we cuddle first?
Virgin No. 9: It was a garlic-and-onion pizza. Why?
Virgin No. 10: . . . so I see Heath, and he goes, “Like, what are you doing here?,” and I go, “I’m hangin’ out,” so he goes, “Like, what?” . . .
Virgin No. 11: First you’re going to have to show me an up-to-date health certificate.
Virgin No. 12: Hurry! My parents are due home!
Virgin No. 13: Do you want the regular or the special?
Virgin No. 14: I’m eighty-four. So what?
Virgin No. 15: Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!
Virgin No. 16: Even I know that’s tiny.
Virgin No. 17: “Do it”? Meaning what?
Virgin No. 18: I’m saving myself for Jesus.
Virgin No. 19: Somewhere on my body I have hidden a buffalo nickel.
Virgin No. 20: Don’t touch my hair!
Virgin No. 21: I hope you’re not going to sleep with me and then go sleep with seventy-one others.
Virgin No. 22: Do you mind if we listen to Mannheim Steamroller?
Virgin No. 23: Are you O.K. with the dog on the bed?
Virgin No. 24: Would you mind saying, “Could I see you in my office, Miss Witherspoon?”?
Virgin No. 25: Ride me! Ride me, Lucky Buck!
Virgin No. 26: You like your vanilla hot?
Virgin No. 27: Does Ookums like Snookums?
Virgin No. 28: It’s so romantic here, dead.
Virgin No. 29: Well, I’m a virgin, but my hand isn’t.
Virgin No. 30: You are in?
Virgin No. 31: Hi, cowboy. I just rode down from Brokeback Mountain.
Virgin No. 32: I’m a virgin because I’m so ugly.
Virgin No. 33: You like-ee?
Virgin No. 34: I’ll betcha you can’t get an erection. Go on, impress me. C’mon, show me. Show me, big shot.
Virgin No. 35: By the way, here in Heaven “virgin” has a slightly different meaning. It means “chatty.”
Virgin No. 36: Sure, I like you, but as a friend.
Virgin No. 37: No kissing. I save that for my boyfriend.
Virgin No. 38: I’m Zania, from the planet Xeron. My vagina is on my foot.
Virgin No. 39: It’s a lesion, and, no, I don’t know what kind.
Virgin No. 40: I’m Jewish. Why do you ask?
Virgin No. 41: Hi, I’m Becky. Oh, whoops—you again.
Virgin No. 42: I just love camping! Camping is so great! Can we go camping sometime?
Virgin No. 43: In the spirit of full disclosure, I’m a single mom.
Virgin No. 44: You like my breasts? They were my graduation gift.
Virgin No. 45: When you’re done, you should really check out how cool this ceiling is.
Virgin No. 46: I’m almost there. Just another couple of hours.
Virgin No. 47: Get your own beer, you nitwit.
Virgin No. 48: No, you’ve got it wrong. We’re in the Paradise Casino.
Virgin No. 49: I really enjoyed that. Thank you very much. Gee, it’s late.
Virgin No. 50: You make me feel like a real woman. And after this is over I’m going to find one.
Virgin No. 51: What do you mean, “move a little”?
Virgin No. 52: Not now, I’m on my BlackBerry.
Virgin No. 53: I love it when you put on your pants and leave.
Virgin No. 54: We’ve been together twenty-four hours now, and, you know, sometimes it’s O.K. to say something mildly humorous.
Virgin No. 55: That was terrible. I should have listened to the other virgins.
Virgin No. 56: I think I found it. Is that it? Oh. Is this it? Oh, this must be it. No?
Virgin No. 57: It must be hot in here, because I know it’s not me.
Virgin No. 58: Those are my testicles.
Virgin No. 59: Did you know that “virgin” is an anagram of Irving?
Virgin No. 60: First “Spamalot,” then sex.
Virgin No. 61: Great! I was hoping for circumcised.
Virgin No. 62: Was that it?
Virgin No. 63: Dang. George Clooney was being reckless on a motorcycle, but instead I got you.
Virgin No. 64: Tonight, I become a woman. But until then you can call me Bob.
Virgin No. 65: They’re called “adult diapers.” Why?
Virgin No. 66: We could do it here for free, or on a stage in Düsseldorf for money.
Virgin No. 67: I’m just Virgin No. 67 to you, right?
Virgin No. 68: Pee-yoo. Are you wearing Aramis?
Virgin No. 69: Condom, please.
Virgin No. 70: My name is Mother Teresa.
Virgin No. 71: I’m not very good at this, but let’s start with the Reverse Lotus Blossom.
Virgin No. 72: It was paradise, until you showed up

Oh My Effing GAWD

This was a conversation between me and a supposedly (posing as, I suspect) industry-pro of a marketing manager for a supposedly established events management company.

Me : "I have a proposal for my client, Singapore Science Centre and they're looking to do a Festival coming March."

Her (in very auntie ah soh buying fish from market voice) : "ah yes. How much your budget?"

Me : "I don't really have those figures yet, I'm currently proposing to them."

Her : "So your event is what?"

Me : "It's a Festival being held by Singapore Science Centre."

Her : "So what kind of event har? Dinner and dance is it?"

Me : "NO, its a FEST-ival."

Her : "So where is this festival?"

Me (sarcastically) : "It's by Singapore Science Centre, where do you think it should be at?"

Her : " In town is it?"

OH MY F**KING GAWD. It should be legal to shoot stupidity like that.

The Rant Post From The Office

Well, for the first time in weeks, I'm bored at work, waiting for clients to revert, waiting for emails to confirm, waiting for the clock to hit 6.00pm, waiting waiting waiting.

Yes, I'm bored. Very.

One thing that has come to mind on and off is that I seem to have fallen off the blogging bandwagon. I still take snapshots with my phone, i've taken quite a number more wth my digicam. Snapshots that upon reviewing were rather nice in their quality or composition, but frankly were too lazy to upload and share.

So here and now in the office, bereft of my own laptop with specially selected pictures (and photoshop ffs!) I shall attempt use my time effectively enough to write an entry that endeavours to be engaging and entertaining in its read.

Yeah right. You very free also hor?

Ok time for random thoughts spewing;

1) Which blinking moron actually thinks Mahatir deserves a Nobel PEACE prize? For someone so obviously antagonistic towards the West, bitterly jealous over Singapore's economic success and rather ham fisted in his oh-so-obvious overthrowing of his former deputy Anwar cos' he couldn't handle the competition (which also sparked off riots in KL), yeah I can see how he is such a paragon of virtous peace making ideals.

2) My god. I know I'm working in a rather Chinese-oriented company but even the enunciation of Shirlyn and Charlene is something most of my colleagues struggle at.

3) I had a rather weird dream last night, where I was a resident in Wisteria Lane, having to plot how best to burn Sarah Jessica Parker's house down cos' she slept with the Blonde Best Friend's friend's boyfriend and someone ended up in jail or something. Yes it's the worst mash up of SATC and Desperate Housewives ever and it only happens here in my dreams.

4) After the recent almost-meltdown I had with regard to working on the 3M pitch, I have come to the conclusion that while being initiative-driven might be an admirable quality, it's mostly a waste of time when you work for a mostly-family-run company.

5) Got an offer to buy a 1Gb thumb-drive for only S$34 bucks.

6) What's more icky than coyly cruising that cutie at a couple of tables away during your company's D&D only to find out that he isn't an undiscovered hottie from the Creatives Department or whatever but he's the cousin of your manager? Ok probably alot more but I backpedaled from making that contact faster than you can say "They're building a WHAT at Mt. Faber?!"

7) What's sexier than knowing that you put on more than 8kg cos' you haven't worked out for like a year and your former FB still finds you hot?

8) I'm becoming used to kopi-O-peng every morning. Not exactly as glamourous as a cuppa ice blended from Coffee Bean every morning but alot more decidedly economical.

9) Just when I think I might have seen/experienced all the levels of queen-dom one could ever see/experience (I did work in a cabaret for over 3 years dammit!), a new designer bemuses me by speaking pseudo-French loudly on his handphone and has to moisturise his hands like 5 times a day in the office.

10) Whatever may happen, I'm gonna spend my birthday this year out of this god-knows-we're-repressed country. I'm also not above accepting donations for this endeavour