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