Living In A Cloud

Without my knowing it, I have totally shifted my computing habits to one that's very much tethered to the cloud computing system.

it started with mobileme a while back. The ease of having my browser bookmarks, emails and contacts synced seamlessly and more importantly, invisibly across 3 platforms was heavensent. And without realising it, I kinda took it for granted until one day I was rushing out of the office and wanted to read more on a link I had bookmarked, during the commute to a meeting only to realise that I hadn't allowed enough time for the "sync" to go through. Boy was I peeved. And then I began to laugh at how much I had taken it for granted.

I also began using Dropbox to sync work and reference files between my work laptop and home desktop. Thumb-drive to transport files? That's so archaic! And then yesterday my brother let me know that there was the iPhone version. OMG how could I not know this?!

These days with mobile devices stepping up and performing more functions beyond the intended "making phone calls", cloud computing has really come into its own. It's really easy to get into and the convenience it supplies to a busy individual's life is unrivalled. Thing is, how much of a crutch would this slowly become without us becoming aware of it? And what's worse, what would happen when one day something goes wrong and things fail as it inevitably would and should? Can you imagine the collective global scream of horror??



Anyway, here's an awesome website, the Expedition Titanic. What's it about? Well it's a pretty well publicized attempt (yet another) to raise and/or salvage the wreck of the RMS Titanic. Yes, THAT Titanic we all know and love (or hate depending on what kind of cold-hearted creep you are).

I'm mentioning this not because I'm a Titanic fanboy (though the nature of a world-famouse shipwreck DOES have its intrigue) but because of... the website itself!

It's an awesome concept, leveraging on the nature of a dive to have a website just scroll on downwards like seemingly forever. And done rather seamlessly too. But I have to say, using it is a tad of a chore on my Magic Mouse.

Awesome Song By A Local Diva

Want to download want to download want to download want to download WANT TO DOWNLOAD!!!

At The Gym II

He first caught my attention from the corner of my eye. Blinking in disbelief, I slowly let down the weights I was carrying and subtly shifted my body to get a better look. Yup, I wasn't mistaken.

You don't get to see such a specimen even if you spend 24/7 in the gym. I shook my head in wonder at what I saw. He casually strolled across my field of sight and I got a full view from the back. He was there, almost bare and he was proud of it. I was amazed and to be honest, a little envious.

I glanced around surreptitiously and caught the knowing smile of another guy who was working out near me. He looked at The Guy, then at me and gave a quick wink. I flushed with embarrassment because I was caught looking, BUT I COULDN'T HELP IT.

Should I go up and say something? I was unsure, for all I know he could just give me the rude brush-off. But I hate going through life with "What Ifs..." running through my head and I know this would be one such example. Nervously, I licked my lips and took a swig of water for courage. I glanced over at my neighbour with what I hoped was a pleading gaze for backup but he just mischievously continued grinning at me. I was alone in this whether I liked it or not.

As I crossed the 4 or 5 steps between us, I took in a closer look at his entire physique. Having weighed close to a baby whale mere months ago, I empathised with what The Guy was working to achieve. The thought then struck me as I reached out to tap his shoulder, "Would I wanna know if that was me??"

Too late, I watched as my hand landed somewhat clumsily on his shoulder. He turned in astonishment and for a moment, I was conscious of my sweaty disheveled self. Oh gawd what the hell was I getting myself into??

"Hi..." I heard myself squeak. He growled and/or grunted in reply and stood waiting for my answer. I forced an awkward smile on my face and figured an apologetic shrug would go best with what I had to say next. Around me, I noticed detachedly that people had stopped working out to witness our exchange. Even the music in the gym seemed to pause, to lend emphasis to my next few words...

"Your g-string is showing... think you could pull up your pants?"

A Guide To Commonly Used Terms On Dating Sites

Recently got back into the sack er... game. I was pretty baffled by all the nonsense people spout these days. If you're like me, I hope you find this to be helpful. LOL

P.S Sorry if this is offensive to anyone. It's purely tongue in cheek!

A Guide to Commonly Used Terms on "Dating" Sites

1. STRAIGHT-ACTING = Remembers to lock his wrist every once in a while. Also believes that using the term "Dude!" in conversations makes him sound "man". Can be found hanging out with "TOP".
2. GYM-BOD = Commutes between home and gym everyday.
3. BUFFED = Steroid-induced pecs and abs. Knows all sources of good protein. A dinner date with him will probably see only you eating while he helpfully tells you the amount of calories and fats in between bites.
4. NO EFFEMS/CROSS DRESSERS = Only one bitch in a relationship at a time. In this case, it's him. See "BOTTOM".
5. MSN ME = Wishes to monopolize your time online.
6. I'M NOT EASY TO GET = He is, but he believes this makes him sound less needy.
7. FUN-LOVING = I'm here for sex.
8. HANDSOME GUYS ONLY = Been told since he was 3 what a God's gift to women everywhere he ws by his doting mother. Also firmly believes he's too good for YOU.
9. JUST HERE TO MAKE FRIENDS = I'm here for sex but I'm discreet.
10. TOP = Believes that being a bottom makes him too gay. See "STRAIGHT ACTING".
11. BOTTOM = Only son / had sisters and female cousins only for company when growing up.
12. I'M NICE = Has absolutely nothing to contribute to a conversation. Be prepared to monologue by yourself.
13. I'M BAD = Believes that having sex in the living room/kitchen is the height of hedonism.
14. I AM ATTACHED = Cannot be seen in public with you.
15. I LOVE TO TRAVEL = Cabin crew.
16. IF YOU'RE NOT CUTE, DONT EVEN BOTHER = Looking for more glamour-shots type of profile to add to his Facebook / MySpace / Friendster.
17. I AM SENSITIVE, LOVING, CARING AND HONEST = Above 45years in age. Probably came out to himself after his failed 2nd marriage. Still hopes it might not be too late.
18. I GIVE GOOD MASSAGE = Orchard Towers masseur looking to do freelance on the sideline.
19. NO PIC, NO REPLY = Believes he's God's gift to gay men everywhere with a self proclaimed Simon Cowell personality.. See "HANDSOME GUYS ONLY".
20. DISCREET = Attached and looking to have one-night-stands on the side. See "I AM ATTACHED".
21. CURIOUS STRAIGHT MALE = Dead fish in bed. Be prepared to do ALL the work.
22. SWIM-BOD = Former GYM-BOD.
23.FUN-SEEKING = Disease carrier. See also "FUN-LOVING".
24. QUIET AND SOFT-SPOKEN = Closeted freak who is so paranoid at home, he believes that answering a phone call could out him. See "STRAIGHT-ACTING" and "TOP".
25. MACHO = Closeted BOTTOM.
26. HOMEBODY = Free-loading bum who's occupation has never stated anything other than "Unemployed".
27. OUT-GOING PERSONALITY = Flaming queen.
28. I DONT LIKE CASUAL SEX = Attached feller who wants a regular fuckbuddy. See also "DISCREET".
29. LOOKING FOR A SOULMATE = Late teens / early 20s who's watched Sex and the City way too many times.
30. I AM NOT HANDSOME = Definitely thinks he is but believes this makes him sound modest. See "HANDSOME GUYS ONLY".
31. I'M HANDSOME, INTELLIGENT, GORGEOUS = Purchased a makeover package recently and believes that's all that it takes.
32. SHY TYPE = See " I AM SENSITIVE, LOVING, CARING AND HONEST" and "CURIOUS STRAIGHT MALE".
33. I’M SENSIBLE = Expect to go dutch on dates. Clashes with "HOMEBODY".
34. I’M NOT JUST INTERESTED IN SEX = Utterly tired of getting rejected.
35. BISEXUAL = Dead fish in bed, but can be persuaded to give a blowjob. For like 45secs.
36. BOYTOY = Over 30s, desperate to be young again.
37. NATURE-LOVER = Doesn't have his own place, may have to do "it" in a deserted park/ under the flyover at Fort Road / East Coast public restrooms if you don't either.
38. HEALTHY INDIVIDUAL = Has every supplement product from GNC & Nature's Farm.
39. EXECUTIVE TYPE = Doesn't own a gym membership.
40. TYPICAL GUY = Totally boring on a date, fucks like a jackrabbit and falls sleep right after he ejaculates.
41. I AM SENSITIVE = Desperately seeking a relationship. Would sms you "miss you" and "love you" after the first date. Believes sex = marriage.
42. I HAVE A WONDERFUL MIND = His excuse for why he's THAT fat. See also "EXECUTIVE TYPE".
43. I AM THE LIFE OF THE PARTY = Party-scene queen. Never home on Friday, Saturday AND Sunday nights before 4am. See also "OUTGOING PERSONALITY".
44. DECENT GUY = Over 40s living with his parents, firmly believes his family still thinks he's straight.
45. I AM FUNNY = Watches sitcoms and laughs along with the laughter tracks. See "I'M NICE".
46. PURE TOP = Been discovered to have a "chocolate berry" once when he was bottom and never got over the embarassment.

All About The Brokeback

Ok fine, I'm damn slow but I finally caught Brokeback Mountain on dvd, having ordered it in an insane moment on Amazon.com.

It was everything I expected (and feared) it would be when I chose not to watch it back in 2005. it was long, it had (overly) long sweeping scenery moments (damn you Ang Lee) and it made me have to reach for at least 5 Magnums before I finally finished the movie in one sitting. That and alot of restless moving to and fro for any slightest excuse, including checking my emails, calling a random Chinese restaurant for delivery (in vain) and watching movie clips on my iPod while trying not to fall asleep.

Critically acclaimed? It does prove to me that the media has its pet projects (like we don't all know that) and for what's it worth, it'sa good movie but it could have been alot better. Unless the movie was filmed on the assumption that the viewer would also be a reader of Annie Proulx's works.

In which case, load up on the silent innuendoes and artistic sweeping shots and whatever else that might / might not be occurring, leave it at the feet of "how different readers take the story is a reflection of their own personal values, attitudes, hang-ups" for your own intepretations of what's (boringly) going on.

There were at times I found myself wishing desperately for a serial killer or something to wander onto the film set and start murdering people, just to pick the pace up a little.

Why? Because as romantic as the notion of the love depicted within might seem / sound, it just doesn't apply to today's Youtube generations' of "no holds barred, responsibilities, traditions and discretions be damned".

And you can take that anyway you want to infer from me. :P

Humour Cos' I'm Bored

Me : hey babe, you busy flying a plane to hunt for this JI feller?

(note : he is in the airforce)

Him (without a trace of humour) : Huh, no lah. Logistically not realistic also.

Me : Oh, ok, helicopters then?

Him : No.

Me : Unmanned aircraft?

Him : No, nearby housing area not very...

Me (cutting him off) : Carrier pigeons?

Him : HAR??

Me (deadpan) : Paper aeroplane?

Him : ...

---------------------------------------------

Yeah, I can be a bully. :P

Anyway, more laughs!

---------------------------------------------

An old lady dies and goes to heaven. She's chatting with St. Peter at the Pearly Gates
when all of a sudden she hears the most awful, blood-curdling screams.

"Don't worry about that," says St. Peter, "It's only someone having the holes put into
her shoulder blades for wings."

The old lady looks a little uncomfortable but carries on with the conversation.

Ten minutes later, there are more blood-curdling screams.

"Oh my God," says the old lady, "Now what is happening?"

Not to worry," says St. Peter, "She's just having her head drilled to fit the halo."

"I can't do this," says the old lady, "I'm going to hell."

"You can't go there'" says St. Peter. "You'll be raped and sodomized."

"Maybe so," says the old lady, "but I've already got the holes for that."


=========== ========= ========= ========= ========= =====


A middle aged man bought a brand new convertible Porsche. He took off down the road
and pushed it up to 160 and was enjoying the wind blowing through his (thinning) hair.

"This is great," he thought and accelerated to an even higher speed. But when he
eventually looked in his rear-view mirror there was a Police Car behind him, blue lights
flashing.

"I can get away from him with no problem" thought the man and he floored it some
more, and flew down the road at over 210 km/h to escape being stopped.

Then he thought, what the hell am I doing? "I'm too old for this kind of thing" and
pulled over to the side of the road, and waited for the Police car to catch up with him.
The Policeman pulled in behind the Porsche and walked up on the driver's side.

"Sir, my Shift ends in five minutes and today is Friday the 13th." If you can give me a
good reason that I've never heard before as to why you were speeding, I'll let you go."

The man looked back at the Policeman and said, "Last week my wife ran off with a
Policeman and I thought you were bringing her back".

The Policeman said, "Have a nice day, sir"


=========== ========= ========= ========= ========= =====


A lady walked into a Lexus dealership just to browse. Suddenly she spotted the most
beautiful car that she had ever seen, and walked over to inspect it.

As she bent forward to feel the fine leather upholstery, an unexpected little fart
escaped her.

Embarrassed, she anxiously looked around to see if anyone had noticed and hoped a
sales person didn't pop up right now.

But, as she turned back, there, standing next to her, is a salesman.

With a pleasant smile he greeted her.

"Good day, Madame, how may we help you today?"

Trying to maintain an air of sophistication and acting as though nothing had happened,
she smiles back and asked, "Sir, what is the price of this lovely vehicle?"

Still smiling pleasantly, he replied, "Madame, I'm very sorry to say that if you farted
just by touching it, you are going to shit when you hear the price!

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.

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

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

Talk To Her Uncaring Hand

I'm not sure if you have heard of this recent issue, about a certain Miss Wee Shu Min, daughter of Ang Mo Kio GRC MP Wee Siew Kim, making totally insensitive, derogatory and insulting remarks about a Mr Derek Wee in her blog.

In her entry, which I won't elaborate but you can read it here.

It blew up over the local blogging community, so much so that her father was forced to make an apology that so was NOT an apology.

Frankly, I don't give a shit. If poeple took this long to realise that there ARE social elites in the country who truly look down upon them, who treat going into areas like coffeeshops and HDB estates like they are doing charity work, then they deserve the rude shock coming to them.

So why am I posting this?

'Cos during lunch I was of all things, called up by a reporter for MY reaction to this whole bunch of bullshit. Why my reaction? Well if you don't know why then I'll leave you to figure it out but I was relishing the irony of asking me. The pesty reporter was from none other than my "fave" trashy tabloid of the nation, TNP, of course.

I was mostly silent for the phone conversation after saying "Hi" and affirming I was who I was on the phone, I listened with a growing sense of deja vu as she rambled on and on about the issue. Then came the moment I was actually waiting for, which sprung to mind while her irritating whiny voice was talking.

TNP Reporter : "So what are your views on this, especially with how MP Wee referred to his daughter's behaviour?"

Me : "Frankly, I think he's a hypocrite, but then again he's a politician. Coming to think of it, I think your call's kinda hypocritical too. Now you're spoiling my lovely lunch so I'm gonna hang up. Ta!"

Geez, the fucking nerve of asking ME.

Anyway, here's a pic of that "biatch". Me wonders, does elitism have a certain "look" ? Cos' she sure resembles another pudgy complexion-challenged stumpy girl I know with pretty much the same attitude. :P Perhaps the Best Friend can shed some light. :P

The Cask Of Amontillado

If you are a fan of Edgar Allan Poe, the above picture is a very refreshing take on the classic, The Cask of Amontillado.

As a kid, I read this story and was morbidly fascinated by the idea of being walled up alive. Truth to tell, I was rather fascinated with various forms of death that were long and drawn out. The macabreness of one's realisation of the impending end yet impotency to do anything about it, sends a chill of horror and titillation down my spine. Much as we homo sapiens behave like we control the world around us, the fact is we control very little indeed. If indeed I could choose which forms of death I would not want to experience, it'd be;

1) Being buried alived.

2) Being walled up alive.

3) Drowning.

4) Suffocation.

I used to list falling from a great height amongst those but I read somewhere your neck snaps mid fall and you're most likely dead before you ever hit the ground so that eliminates its eligibility from "Long drawn out deaths I wouldn't wanna gro through" for me.

Happy Hallow's Eve.