Friday, August 20
I was there
Wednesday, August 11
Go East
There was no tripod for the occassion.
Dawn at Bedok Jetty. Pardon the blurriness.
There was no tripod for the occassion.
Friday, August 6
And here's one more
Food for thought, gentlemen. If you haven't already thought of those.
As National Day draws near, here's a little piece you might want to read.
Food for thought, gentlemen. If you haven't already thought of those.
The linkaholic
Opps. Cat out of the bag ?
*
and this.
Got it from the girl who said that, "that song still makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry."
My sentiments, exactly.
You have to read this.
Opps. Cat out of the bag ?
*
and this.
Got it from the girl who said that, "that song still makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry."
My sentiments, exactly.
Wednesday, August 4
Just like
Moral of the story: Don't shake your Corolla while doing it, if you don't want to get caught legally.
Just like,
Don't pen baseless discriminatory stuff, if you don't want to get criticized. Legally.
Another random piece of news article.
Moral of the story: Don't shake your Corolla while doing it, if you don't want to get caught legally.
Just like,
Don't pen baseless discriminatory stuff, if you don't want to get criticized. Legally.
Tuesday, August 3
I'm lovin' it
The highly acclaimed series was finally going to have its own time slots on cable, here in the nanny state of dear old S'pore. Of course whether it was going to be censored like the rest was another issue.
Not that it concerned me greatly coz just two days later, my dear old friend flew in all six boxes of the series, brand new and still wrapped in their plastic sheets ! If I had been any more of myself I might just kissed her.
So now as I drowned myself through seasons 1 - 6, I thought of her every minute of the shows, and wondered how life had never been the same since the day she gave me that big black bag which weighed a ton. How surprised and delighted I was that it was a ton's worth of SATC goodies. How I tore the plastic wrapper off the first box as she gave me a run down on the glamourous posse in the series. And how two long-time-no-see-coz-one-is-always-in-another-country girlfriends became girlish together in a small cafe all over again.
Yes. You may vomit your lungs out, but I am officially a chick flick addict.
One fine evening as I stood talking to a handsome young man at the train station, I saw the flyer for Sex and the City pasted on the side of the newspaper stand.
The highly acclaimed series was finally going to have its own time slots on cable, here in the nanny state of dear old S'pore. Of course whether it was going to be censored like the rest was another issue.
Not that it concerned me greatly coz just two days later, my dear old friend flew in all six boxes of the series, brand new and still wrapped in their plastic sheets ! If I had been any more of myself I might just kissed her.
So now as I drowned myself through seasons 1 - 6, I thought of her every minute of the shows, and wondered how life had never been the same since the day she gave me that big black bag which weighed a ton. How surprised and delighted I was that it was a ton's worth of SATC goodies. How I tore the plastic wrapper off the first box as she gave me a run down on the glamourous posse in the series. And how two long-time-no-see-coz-one-is-always-in-another-country girlfriends became girlish together in a small cafe all over again.
Yes. You may vomit your lungs out, but I am officially a chick flick addict.
Stupid people are taking over the world.
Monday, August 2
Where do you come from ?
But to assume where a person is from based solely on how "Chinese" or "English" or "Southern" she looks, is like declaring where a sausage is imported from by the "redness" of it. It could easily make a hilarious joke.
Somewhere someone wrote a piece where a "China wife" was the one of the central figures. Writer assumed her to be from China coz he thought she looked "Chinese" enough. In the same breath, writer wrote how, since she was from China and currently in a foreign land (i.e. his country), she must be some mail-order bride or a betrothed woman forced upon the man, a.k.a the "wuss" in his story.
The writer simply gushed out all that based on, guess what, the observations that the lady did not wait for the husband before tucking into her food and her supposed ungracefulness in consuming her food.
Is that considered almost baseless or what. One might even be tempted think that some China woman once ruined the writer's life or refused to give him head after he paid for it.
By the time I finished scanning the little piece, I was almost sure that either the writer is a dumb bell or an extremely uneducated racist. But the writer happens to be a Chinese too (but not from China) and a diploma holder, so that it may seem like the initial impressions of why the writer might thought of her that way may be more accurate than is thought.
Of course, anyone could write anything on his / her own site but I sure wouldn't want to be caught dead in my posts making a whole lot of condemning or boasting about half baked stuff. But then again I am only speaking for myself.
Realizing that sometimes baseless personal attacks-cum-mocking sessions do backfire ... on oneself.
You know how you could sometimes guess where a person is from from her appearance, accent, clothing or the way she carries herself.
But to assume where a person is from based solely on how "Chinese" or "English" or "Southern" she looks, is like declaring where a sausage is imported from by the "redness" of it. It could easily make a hilarious joke.
Somewhere someone wrote a piece where a "China wife" was the one of the central figures. Writer assumed her to be from China coz he thought she looked "Chinese" enough. In the same breath, writer wrote how, since she was from China and currently in a foreign land (i.e. his country), she must be some mail-order bride or a betrothed woman forced upon the man, a.k.a the "wuss" in his story.
"... most of them (the china females) had very little education when they uprooted from their rural and undeveloped homeland to come live in Singapore for a multitude of reasons."
" ... plainly obvious that there was no love between them"
"... married him for the Singapore's equivalent of a "green card" to upgrade to a better life in a better environment."
"... did the poor loser marry the shrew for the sake of having a descendant"
"... did the shrew marry that loser just because in that sad, ugly mug of his was written the route to a potential amelioration of her life?"
The writer simply gushed out all that based on, guess what, the observations that the lady did not wait for the husband before tucking into her food and her supposed ungracefulness in consuming her food.
Is that considered almost baseless or what. One might even be tempted think that some China woman once ruined the writer's life or refused to give him head after he paid for it.
By the time I finished scanning the little piece, I was almost sure that either the writer is a dumb bell or an extremely uneducated racist. But the writer happens to be a Chinese too (but not from China) and a diploma holder, so that it may seem like the initial impressions of why the writer might thought of her that way may be more accurate than is thought.
Of course, anyone could write anything on his / her own site but I sure wouldn't want to be caught dead in my posts making a whole lot of condemning or boasting about half baked stuff. But then again I am only speaking for myself.
Realizing that sometimes baseless personal attacks-cum-mocking sessions do backfire ... on oneself.
Suddenly I thought
When it comes to treating the close and personal.
Maybe it is my bitchy self rearing its ugly head or my alter ego emerging from its occasional sleep modes. But sometimes I can't help but think, perhaps it really is just me being ... me.
People I ever dated know best. Of how grouchy I can really be. How judgmental, and harsh, and rude, and oppressively tyrant.
And the thing is, sometimes I really am sorry for my unreasonable self or the brutally tactless words that I sprouted. But like most tyrants, I've never gotten down to using the S word on any regular basis.
Dee asked me, how I could be so level headed and be so ... 'childish' at the same time. Since I've been down the same road with my two headed self before, I could answer it almost flawlessly: that I think with my rational side of the brain, and act with my emotional side, or a.k.a the childish side. The side which dictates that I get all whiny, complainy, and totally unreasonable at times.
When treating ex- boyfriends, I am mostly level headed in both thinking and actions. Frankly they seem to like it; after all, that seems to be a superbly nice upgrade from my previous behavior as a girlfriend. But I am that only because I am cool and detached, and as interested in their lives as I would be interested in the life of the old cranky woman who lives across the street.
Then I tried to see if I could be childish in both thinking and actions. I started by attributing my getting rashes all over my body to cosmic bad karma for leaving my pet hamster outside my house for more than a week, to battle on its own, all the poisonous traffic rubbish from the virtually perpetual rush hours.
And that as I sit here typing this entry, it is still out there, feeding on the dust covered sunflower seeds or choking on the air which contains little oxygen coz I am angry at it for bringing this upon me.
Suddenly it feels good, coz there is suddenly a simple graspable reason for every happening. No more complicated reasonings or train thoughts to places where you might end up feeling more helpless.
And I heard that, if I could keep up this kinda thinking and behavior for a couple of months or so, I might even be stamped an approval seal for entry into the Club of the Bimbos ... Finally. Every little girl's dream, and most guys' pride. A certified bimbotic girlfriend. No more tyrannic oppression. Just breasts and yes-s.
I can be such an A(sshole) person.
When it comes to treating the close and personal.
Maybe it is my bitchy self rearing its ugly head or my alter ego emerging from its occasional sleep modes. But sometimes I can't help but think, perhaps it really is just me being ... me.
People I ever dated know best. Of how grouchy I can really be. How judgmental, and harsh, and rude, and oppressively tyrant.
And the thing is, sometimes I really am sorry for my unreasonable self or the brutally tactless words that I sprouted. But like most tyrants, I've never gotten down to using the S word on any regular basis.
Dee asked me, how I could be so level headed and be so ... 'childish' at the same time. Since I've been down the same road with my two headed self before, I could answer it almost flawlessly: that I think with my rational side of the brain, and act with my emotional side, or a.k.a the childish side. The side which dictates that I get all whiny, complainy, and totally unreasonable at times.
When treating ex- boyfriends, I am mostly level headed in both thinking and actions. Frankly they seem to like it; after all, that seems to be a superbly nice upgrade from my previous behavior as a girlfriend. But I am that only because I am cool and detached, and as interested in their lives as I would be interested in the life of the old cranky woman who lives across the street.
Then I tried to see if I could be childish in both thinking and actions. I started by attributing my getting rashes all over my body to cosmic bad karma for leaving my pet hamster outside my house for more than a week, to battle on its own, all the poisonous traffic rubbish from the virtually perpetual rush hours.
And that as I sit here typing this entry, it is still out there, feeding on the dust covered sunflower seeds or choking on the air which contains little oxygen coz I am angry at it for bringing this upon me.
Suddenly it feels good, coz there is suddenly a simple graspable reason for every happening. No more complicated reasonings or train thoughts to places where you might end up feeling more helpless.
And I heard that, if I could keep up this kinda thinking and behavior for a couple of months or so, I might even be stamped an approval seal for entry into the Club of the Bimbos ... Finally. Every little girl's dream, and most guys' pride. A certified bimbotic girlfriend. No more tyrannic oppression. Just breasts and yes-s.
Sunday, August 1
Yes I know ...
And that's coz I've hit yet another dry dough.
There seems nothing to write about and I don't want to fill a page of useless quizzes which doesn't say anything about anyone. Not only are the accuracies of such quizzes stupidly dubious, no one would ever know if the results are speaking for you or it's just one of those quizzes where you tamper with the results to your liking.
Like most ppl I know, I read blogs. You know how there are community blogs written by people with a common interest, like gardening or cooking etc, and individual blogs penned by anguished or bored people like me who utilize the Internet as frustration boards. And then there are blogs written by ppl who indicate on their pages often enough about how they would really like to be writers or journalists. You know, people who really seem to want their names or faces printed on a stack of papers or hard covers.
Some of them try to be funny, others flaunt their range of vocabulary. But mostly, many of them just don't seem interesting long enough to hold your attn or makes you wanna come back for more. But that's just me.
Luckily for my blog reading appetite, the yin-yang forces of contrasts do exist in cyber net too. For how else do we have bloggers like cw, thb and silvermyst whom anyone can count on to bring them those laughing-to-the-computer-screen moments of the day and make blog reading all worthwhile again. In fact all of them listed under the first heading on the right column of this site are hot, hot, hot properties.
Being the crappy blogger that I am, I don't know how to put together an award winning entry. But the least I know is that, it takes more than a good grasp of language to be a writer. A good writer has a witty sense of humor and that X factor perspective of things / people, for those are both the salt and the topping necessary to elicit that oommph from the readers. But hey, that's just me.
I haven't been entering any blog entries.
And that's coz I've hit yet another dry dough.
There seems nothing to write about and I don't want to fill a page of useless quizzes which doesn't say anything about anyone. Not only are the accuracies of such quizzes stupidly dubious, no one would ever know if the results are speaking for you or it's just one of those quizzes where you tamper with the results to your liking.
Like most ppl I know, I read blogs. You know how there are community blogs written by people with a common interest, like gardening or cooking etc, and individual blogs penned by anguished or bored people like me who utilize the Internet as frustration boards. And then there are blogs written by ppl who indicate on their pages often enough about how they would really like to be writers or journalists. You know, people who really seem to want their names or faces printed on a stack of papers or hard covers.
Some of them try to be funny, others flaunt their range of vocabulary. But mostly, many of them just don't seem interesting long enough to hold your attn or makes you wanna come back for more. But that's just me.
Luckily for my blog reading appetite, the yin-yang forces of contrasts do exist in cyber net too. For how else do we have bloggers like cw, thb and silvermyst whom anyone can count on to bring them those laughing-to-the-computer-screen moments of the day and make blog reading all worthwhile again. In fact all of them listed under the first heading on the right column of this site are hot, hot, hot properties.
Being the crappy blogger that I am, I don't know how to put together an award winning entry. But the least I know is that, it takes more than a good grasp of language to be a writer. A good writer has a witty sense of humor and that X factor perspective of things / people, for those are both the salt and the topping necessary to elicit that oommph from the readers. But hey, that's just me.
