as told by bob

Desiderata

2009-12-15T22:25:00.001+08:00

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and ignorant;
they too have their story.

-excerpt from the poem "Desiderata," by Max Ehrman, 1927.

for us

2009-12-05T21:11:00.002+08:00

i love you.

09-09-09

2009-09-09T09:09:00.000+08:00

Epic.

Mr Children - GIFT

2009-01-17T23:59:00.001+08:00

seriously, this band amazes me to no end.

What is the most beautiful color?
What is that which shines brightest?
I searched for the perfect gift
while imagining what would make you happy

we say we want to find our “true selves”
we say we want to know the “meaning of life”
when I hand (this gift) over, I hope it up and solves those riddles
i hope you’ll accept it.

For the longest time, I’ve been holding on tight to it,
hoping to give it to you
so it’s gotten all crumpled, and the color is so different now
i can’t even flatteringly describe it as pretty.

we find ourselves presented with tough problems
“Answer with black or white”
with the wall we’ve run smack dab into before us
we’re not sure what to do
we may not know what to do but…

In between black and white there are infinite colors
and it’s there that I search for a color that suits you
once i’ve given it a gentle sounding name
then, I will give that most beautiful color to you.

even if we arrive at the edge of the horizon,
a new horizon stretches on from there
I ask my heart
“Ready to call it quits?”
and I heard it say back
that it wants to keep on.

i can still manage carrying this baggage
that suddenly seems to have multiplied
I’ll even carry yours
so come on over,
that alone will lighten my heart.

at the end of an endless journey,
who is “the chosen one”?
even if its not me,
I’m going to keep on running
I’ll keep on running.

the sunlight shines down
which is why there is shade
all of it has a purpose
because each appreciates the other
no matter where we are
we can feel the light.

I send it to you now. I wonder if you’ll like it?
Please accept it. It was because I was with you that I could find it.
It’s I who should be thanking you.

What is the most beautiful color?
What is that which shines brightest?
I keep the gift you gave me, always, deep in my heart
see, how it shines now
it can still shine on.

-----------
for lyn.

i really should start actually writing something...

2008-12-29T08:22:00.001+08:00

but first! more videos to share!

see how i just slipped that in there?

Where the hell is Matt?

2008-12-06T19:15:00.003+08:00

http://www.wherethehellismatt.com/?fbid=y1SRHTvu0s6

i didn't realize this was a phenomenon..

truly inspirational stuff..

hooray for the simple ideas!

too much youtube

2008-12-04T09:19:00.002+08:00

椎名林檎-迷彩

now THAT... is a show.

Urban Spaceman by Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band

2008-12-01T09:18:00.000+08:00

catchy. dunno why. hurhur.

sha la la

2008-11-06T01:36:00.001+08:00

the english makes no sense. but who cares?

let me try to be back to this place any day.

i love old men!

2008-08-02T19:56:00.001+08:00

and i know you do, too!

The World is Just Awesome

2008-07-15T15:51:00.002+08:00

gogo Discovery Channel!

Beaker

2008-07-14T10:12:00.000+08:00

they just don't make 'em like they used to.

Bert and Ernie

2008-06-30T16:34:00.003+08:00

best comedy duo ever!

R.I.P. Jim!

Get Well Soon

2008-06-23T20:44:00.002+08:00

the iMac is at Applecare.

initial diagnosis: Hard disk failure.

i didn't back up my stuff. all my work, music, pictures, videos, memories... all could possibly be gone within the next 5 working days.

this dependance on technology is scary. i'm actually missing all those 1's and 0's!

here's to hoping those people at Applecare know what they're doing and not out to scam me of $3000 to get it repaired.

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

if you must know, $3000 isn't a made up number. Leticia at the service counter said it would take anywhere between $500 and $3000 to retrieve info from the hard disk.

Brand new intel iMac here i come!

Foux De Fa Fa

2008-05-19T10:52:00.001+08:00

Flight of the Conchords. Baguette!

sebastien

2008-04-22T11:00:00.001+08:00

simple. maybe even cliche.

but still very nice.

patience

2008-03-19T09:33:00.003+08:00

she sat very still.

her head was thrown back, turning her face up towards the sky and pulling her jaw agape as she soaked in the sun.

she had her eyes closed and as far as i could tell, she was content. was it the curl at the corner of her lip? was it the crows feet that patterned her eyes? was it simply the way she sat, relaxed; the stillness that she evoked as the world seemed to speed by around her?

i looked up into that patch of sky that had caught her attention and for a brief moment, was arrogant enough to think that i understood.

it was strange, but her quiet composure excited me. i could only imagine that what lay underneath her slight, motionless frame was something well beyond my experience and imagination.

she sat very still. and she was very calm.

the minder, who... didn't seem to mind, wasn't far off. arms folded and legs crossed with a knot in her brow, agitated by some thing or other the person on the end of the line was insinuating, she yammered away trying desperately to prove a point that i hadn't cared to pay heed to, but was sure was unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

and turning back to look at the steady figure not 3 feet away, fawning at the sun, i found myself hypocritical and was compelled to retort: "isn't it all unimportant after all?"

but just as quickly as my cynicism arose, it was dispelled. for, captured in that one woman reclined unabashedly in her wheelchair, were all the questions... and all the answers of the universe.

and then, i was jealous. what had she discovered about humanity that allowed her to sit so still and be so calm and be at ease? what was it that allowed her the serenity to lay motionless, ignoring all else and be fixated by an unknown singularity? was it a singularity at all?

but just as i was to muse further and delve deeper into the psyche of my unexpected inspiration, i was yanked back through the vortex of imagination and romanticism and back into cold, hard reality.

the minder was done and had hung up. she stood impatiently and carelessly engaged herself in what was surely standard operating procedure for the pair.

the minder lifted the svelte, aged woman up out of her chair and plunked her back into a more 'comfortable' position. she then produced what looked like twine and proceeded to mechanically secure our heroine into the wheelchair, possibly for fear that the limp carcass of a woman might fall out of her human-powered sedan as it was pushed carelessly along.

she did not resist. she could not. and so she sat then in her new position, body limp with head hanging low. the awe and wonder that her simple, upturned face had exuded was now obscured by the cruelty of gravity and of time.

and i swear i saw it: the joyous curl of her lip that, moments ago, was lit by the sun... faded.

and yet, she could not have smiled at all. she was too old and she did not have the strength.

then what was it i saw? what was it that inspired this piece?

a hope?

a joy?

a feeling?

i'll probably never know. all i know is that the knot was secured and the brake was released and the chair wheeled away behind a corner. and i never saw the old woman again.

but i do remember her.

how she was always still. how she was always calm. and how she was always strong.

------------------------------------
i've read that "strong people are always calm." and that "you'll understand when you understand."
it makes me happy and sad at the same time that if i do, someday, come to finally understand, i might be too old to realize it.

Lies - Glen Hansard

2008-03-02T16:34:00.003+08:00

one of the many tracks in the 2007 Irish musical movie 'Once' written and directed by John Carney. i don't think it ever came to Singapore. stupid crummy blockbuster ghost story korean drama jack neo loving local industry.

I think it's time, we give it up
And figure out what's stopping us
From breathing easy, and talking straight
The way is clear if you're ready now
The volunteer is slowing down
And taking time to save himself

The little cracks they escalated
And before you know it was too late
For making circles and telling lies

You're moving too fast for me
And I can't keep up with you
Maybe if you slowed down for me
I could see you're only telling
Lies, lies, lies
Breaking us down with your
Lies, lies, lies
When will you learn

The little cracks they escalated
And before you know it was too late
For making circles and telling lies

You're moving too fast for me
And I can't keep up with you
Maybe if you'd slowed down for me
I could see you're only telling
Lies, lies, lies
Breaking us down with your
Lies, lies, lies
When will you learn

So plant the thought and watch it grow
Wind it up and let it go

good show, good song

2008-02-25T18:35:00.002+08:00

seeing as i'm not too much in the groove of writing at the moment, i'm taking the easy way out and posting this excellent song from the series "Ed".

not sure if you 'get it' not watching the whole episode, but its still a great and surprisingly heartfelt testament to life.

life's a bitch. but i love her.

Journey to the West - Cinderella

2008-02-14T12:17:00.001+08:00

the final 9 minutes of the most beautiful love story ever.

one year later

2008-02-09T02:07:00.000+08:00

woot!

today, i get to remove the pair of stoopid triangle thingamajigs that've been hanging on the car's wind shield!

i r good drivings!

but parallel parking... :(

Right Now

2008-01-14T10:36:00.000+08:00

"Wow. Would you look at that?" said Wallace to himself as he peered in at the elegant display through the clear glass window.

"I mean, look at it. God damn most beautiful watch I've ever seen in my life."

And Wallace was right. For, despite his humble background, he possessed an uncanny appreciation for fine craftsmanship. Each gleaming timepiece had been specially and specifically tailor made by very skilled but also unfortunately unknown Swiss watchmakers.

"Man, I gotta get me one of those."

He was standing in the cold and his skin was moist from the drizzle and fog that was iconic of his country. But it didn't stop him from marveling at the masterpieces that lay in glass and bejeweled boxes before him ticking away.

Servos turned and regulators cranked. Each moving mechanical part dancing and singing in harmony under the whimsy of an invisible conductor.

tick-tock-tick-tock
bing-bing-bing-bing
clickety-clickety-clickety-click
whiiiiiir-ting-whiiiiiir-ting

He couldn't hear the symphony through the glass. And he couldn't bear to press his face against it either for fear of smearing it, thereby inadvertently obscuring his view. But if it sounded anything like it did in his head, it must have been wondrous.

Wallace looks down at his own wrist and realizes that he already owned a watch. A cheap, dull, plastic thing that his youngest had got for him two Christmases ago. She had been saving up to buy it for a year at least. How an eight year old girl managed to scrounge up fifteen pound ninety nine baffles him to this day, but it was because of it that he loved the little ill-fitting Casio, and would wear it forever. But that didn't matter right now.

Right now, all he could do was be enthralled. All he wanted was to be mesmerized by the regular, hypnotic and comforting back and forth of the mastercraft sitting nonchalantly in its display case.

Sometimes, though, he would lose control and let himself be overwhelmed.

"I'll just go in there and ask to look at it."

But Wallace knew better than anyone else that it could be nothing more than a pipe dream. Minimum wage and 4 mouths to feed wasn't going to let him through the front door, let alone buy him a ten thousand pound watch.

Yet, he stood there still. His breath condensing against the glass, ticketing machine strapped to his waist and a street full of parking offenders getting away scott free. A trivial matter. He'd just have to work a little harder tomorrow.

But for now, right now, he shifted his weight and leaned in as close as he dared. For there was a watch that needed admiring.

Mr Shoeshine

2007-12-30T06:13:00.000+08:00

Now, I don't profess to know much about anything. But I do know that shoe-shining is a noble profession. My Daddy did it, and his Daddy did it, and his Daddy did it, and so on and so forth up the family tree.

In fact, now that I think about it, I don't think any man in the family wasn't shining shoes for a living. And we're pretty damn good at it, too, I'll tell you that.

People would come from miles away just to have their shoes shined by my old man. 'Mr Shoeshine' they called him. Best spit shine this side of the West Coast. Hell, best shoe shine anywhere. Period. And for good reason, too.

See, it's not about shining shoes. It's about creating an experience. You can't make a gent sit down for fifteen minutes and have nothing but a pair of shiny shoes to show for it. It'll be the shiniest pair of shoes they've ever seen, for sure, but that ain't good enough when you're already the best.

"Do you know what we do, boy?

"We shine shoes, Dad."

"What?! Hell, no, son! We don't shine shoes. Look at all these people dressed in they suits and they greased up hair. Each and everyone of 'em needs to wear they shoes. You don't earn the big bucks if you ain't got the proper shoes, see? Where they be at today, whether it be they a banker or a lawyer or all o' that, they owe it to us. 'Coz we make 'em look good. 'Coz we shine they shoes."

So when it came my turn to pick up the old brush and cloth, I'll tell you, I couldn't have been prouder. Imagine. Me. Son of Mr Shoeshine carrying on the family business. Sitting in the chair next to him with my kit, calling out to gents that pass by.

My Daddy he told me that sometimes you got to insult them a little bit, you know? Make them feel small because their shoes ain't as polished as the other gents'. Even if they don't stop right then, you know that you got it in their heads. And sooner or later they're going to figure it out. They're going to stop dead in their tracks and think to themselves, "Damn, I need to get my shoes shined."

They could be in their office drinking coffee or sitting in the middle of a meeting or in a cab or walking their dog. It don't matter. That gent you called out to three days ago because you were doing your job right the way I taught you, he's going to drop whatever it is that he was doing, and he's going to think about getting his shoes shined. Guaranteed.

"And who do you think they gonna come to, boy?"

"Why, Mr Shoeshine, of course!"

"Mr Shoeshine? Who that be? Don't be playin' wit your ol' man now, you hear?"

"That's you, Dad! Ain't no one shines a shoe like you do!"

And my old man, he'd look at me sideways from under his lucky hat, look up into the sky with his lower lip turned up, smile that half smile like he always do and say the words that made him sound like he owned the world, "Damn straight."

But that was thirty-five years ago. Dad's gone now and I sit here by myself in the corner with my polishing cloth slung over my shoulder, calling out to gents, just like he taught me.

These days though, people don't like to be sitting down waiting for you to shine their shoes. Gents now, they're rich. If their shoes get muddy or something they could just go out and buy a new pair. Heck, they could buy one everyday if they wanted. And those that ain't rich... well, I... I don't know how to shine sneakers.

People these days got places to go, people to meet. Ain't no time for stopping no more. Ain't no time for a little conversation.

It's a pity, too, because I've gotten pretty good at talking about anything and everything. Used to be you meet a lot of people at the corner. Paperboys calling out the headlines, guy at the news stand could spare a minute or two to tell you about stuff happening in the world. I think about it now and it was surprising how much information I got looking down at shoes all day.

"Keep yer eyes and ears open, son. Someday, someone is goin' to come up and tell you somethin' that'll make you rich."

But these days no one even looks at the shoe shine guy. It's like... It's like you doing me a favor if you sit down, you know? It's like novelty. Like a tourist attraction.

I think about how it is now and how it was then, and I think to myself, "Damn, Dad, things have changed so much."

Used to be we were shining shoes all day. Used to be we'd go home with our hands red and sore from all the brushing. Used to be we couldn't walk straight because our pants leg were always full of change.

These days, I just sit on my chair, twiddling my thumbs waiting for someone to think about how their shoes are gonna take 'em far. And hopefully they'll find me sitting in our corner, waiting for them to show up.

"Hey."

"Yes, sir? Need your shoes shined today, sir? Seems to me like you need it."

"'You Mr Shoeshine?"

"No, sir. That honor belongs to my dad. Best spit shine in the business."

"Really? My dad used to talk about a Mr Shoeshine who used to sit right here on this corner."

"If you don't mind me asking, sir. Did your dad have the shiniest shoes you've ever seen?"

And I saw this man stop for a moment. I saw him look down at my shoes and at the other shoes that passed by just that second. He looked at his own shoes last of all then out into the distance. He was thinking. And he cocked his head a little to the left, squinted and let his forehead wrinkle up as he nodded slightly.

"Why, yes. Yes, he did."

And I stood up, whipped off my cloth from my shoulder with a flourish and dusted my chair off for the gent to sit on.

"Damn straight."

------------------------
i've met and saw more interesting people in Las Vegas this past week than i have my whole life in Singapore. and to think i almost didn't want to go.

i hate to win

2007-11-19T14:36:00.000+08:00

i look back after a match and think to myself, 'great job. good work. all those hours in the gym finally paid off.'

but then i think about my opponent and i think, 'man, he went through the same things as i did. in all probability he's been training even harder than i have. he sacrificed his body and mind and soul to face me. he had dreams. he made promises to people. his whole life had revolved around that one encounter.'

and just like that, i took it all away from him.

how can you expect me to think about victory when i just made another man lose? when i now carry with me the burden of all the promises, hopes and dreams he left behind?

who can say that any one person deserves to win more than another?

yet, the truth of the matter is that both of us gambled our lives willingly and knowingly. both of us understood the possible consequences of our actions, accepted them and agreed to live bravely through them.

still, it doesn't make winning any easier.

Young@Heart sing "Fix You" by Coldplay

2007-10-26T10:10:00.000+08:00

chanced upon this clip while browsing.

"This is from a documentary shown on Channel 4 in the UK called 'Young@Heart'; the name of the New England octogenarian chorus line. The performer here is Fred Knittle, who suffers from congestive heart failure. This song was intended to be a duet between Fred and another chorus member, Bob Salvini. Sadly, Bob died of a heart attack and it was left to Fred to carry the song on his own. If I'm correct, the people you see crying at 01:13 are Bob's family. The lady you occasionally see mouthing the lyrics in the audience is Fred's wife.

There were some very touching scenes where we see Fred rehearsing alone soon after Bob's death. It was an incredible film."

yeah, those irregular clicks that sound like puffs of air? thats Fred's respirator.

honesty

2007-10-23T00:42:00.000+08:00

the underground tunnel was bustling. it was the weekend after all.

he'd been working the same shift for a while now but for all the hours he had put in, he still found it hard to tune out the noise and the crowd.

it took him a while, more than most, to concentrate. to stay focused on the job at hand. but he tells himself that his was an important job, and that important jobs had to be be done, and be done well.

"concentrate."

it is an unfortunate truth that he wasn't a very intelligent person. and it didn't help that he was born to a poor family who couldn't afford his special needs tuition. so it came to pass that he scavenged through life the best way he knew how - with eyes up, a lowered head, and a half-confused smile. what roadblocks did he face? what walls did he climb? what words did he endure? what prejudiced looks had pierced him before?

as he homed in on the loose piece of scrap that lay on the floor, trampled upon by the thousands that passed by unaware, with his chin tucked in and his mouth slightly agape and his lower lip hanging loose, his right hand gripped the broom a little tighter and his left maneuvered the dustpan into the ready.

"concentrate."

it was an honor for him to have this job. most people he had met in life wouldn't give him a second thought or hung around long enough to meet his gaze, and so he considered himself a most fortunate soul to be donning a uniform and entrusted with this, arguably the most important job in the world. it was with this single-minded happiness that he begins his days, and it was this quiet joy that made his life meaningful.

but even now as he waits patiently for the crowds to offer him an opening to approach that vile and treacherous sliver of compost that sullied his otherwise pristine ground, he is ever aware of his place. still very much the outcast. still very much overlooked. he must remember to stay in the background. he must not come into view. he must not get in the way.

"concentrate."

despite his pride, his uniform was dirty and unpressed. he had not been taught how to clean his clothes. he also walked with an unnatural limp. a previous injury, perhaps? or simply a case of poor psycho-motor skills? still, it was beside the point. although it does hamper his speed, it made little difference to the core of which he had been entrusted.

he shuffled forward now. little by little until the offending trash was in his sights. where he stood now cut an eddy into the wave of human traffic. the eye of the storm. gently he lay down the dustpan with his left and in a ballet of motion, flicked deftly with his right. indeed, God himself could not have wafted paper so.

such fluidity, such beauty is rarely seen in one's lifetime. but here is a man who himself just accomplished it. and with his eyes up, his head lowered, and with a half-confused smile, he sought another chance to do it again.

"concentrate."

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

i find myself very intrigued and inspired by honest, determined people.

viva la revolución

2007-10-10T12:31:00.000+08:00

the revolution was quelled.

protestors and picketers were dispersed by smoke bombs and water cannons not an hour ago. now the street is littered with the broken glass of Molotov cocktails, charred remains of cars overturned in the chaos and the broken dreams embodied in the wood, cardboard and plastic of ruined picket signs and paper banners. it started peacefully, as they all did, but the combination of sheer heat, short fuses and angry men already on the brink of despair had this confrontation written in the books the moment the first voice was blared over megaphones.

but still he knelt there. in the centre of a quiet hope. he had not slept, nor shaved nor eaten. and his face was riddled with blood and spit. the sign he had so vehemently carried over his head these past 5 days now lay precariously over his drooping shoulder, his tattered clothes and broken soul. his jaw was slack and he stared at the ground, hands between his knees, too tired to stand. his hands were dirty and rough and his nails had been chipped, his thick fingers reduced to an exhausted curl, caked in dirt and gun smoke.

a bead of sweat fell from his nose as he breathed in deep, his sunken cheeks dark under the mid-day sun.

"why don't you go home?" i heard myself ask him.

and it was then i saw it in his eyes:

"because i have nothing else."

and so i watched him kneel there, even as the last truck pulled away bursting with his brothers in arms locked inside, he moved to grip his picket with calloused fingers. he screamed but no sound came out. his muscles ripped but no strength came forth. his veins burst but no one could see.

such pain he endured.

and yet, it seemed that fate was beyond him, and she laughed as every step he took, brought him further and further away from his goal.

"i want to walk"

2007-10-01T08:59:00.000+08:00

said the old man.

he was almost 80, bow-legged, hunched over and ridden with arthritis. his hair was thin and cropped short. but it was surprisingly firm and stood up almost straight, and you could see the blemishes that slowly invaded the skin of people his age on his scalp through it. he had lost his last tooth back in 1998, having just turned 75, and now sometimes still finds it difficult to adjust to this, one of many, notable change in his anatomy. not that it mattered much. porridge and oatmeal doesn't often require chewing. if only his jaw didn't slack when he wasn't paying attention and, compounded with his toothlessness, didn't make him look surprised all the time.

his skin was bronzed and weathered. his hands seemed gritty and rough and only so because it had been a long time since he had let go of his walking cane, or raised his arms and turned his palms out like he used to when he was standing along the sidewalk, and because no one had shook his hands for as far back as he could remember. indeed, his hands had worked hard; but now they barely do enough to help him stand up from sitting down. and his fingers. they were long and thick and evidenced a hard life and it was almost unbecoming, almost sinful, that they've degenerated the way they have and called attention to their weary selves whenever he needed to muster any kind of strength.

his eyes were sad, albeit surprised, and would flash rare glimpses of lucidity if only you had took the time to carefully study them for a half a day or so. it wouldn't have been difficult, he didn't often go anywhere.

but now they looked tired and worried. the corners of his eyes were turned down as his slacked jaw began to, slowly but surely, pull his entire face down along with it. it was quite a feat, to stand. his feet had to be planted firmly on the ground which shouldn't be too smooth or he might slip and fall, not to rough or it might cut up his pointlessly calloused sole and, for obvious reasons, consistently well-leveled. it was an ergonomic ballet. he had to lean far forward enough, and push up with his sabulous hands enough, and power through with his ginger legs enough, that gravity would throw him over into a standing position, but not so far that it would throw him over into a broken hip.

he was, however, determined.

"i want to walk."

"we're in the middle of the street! please, just sit down."

it took two people to help him stand. and he could walk no more than 10 feet or so before those with him got impatient and encouraged him to sit back down in his wheelchair. but he did walk. his weathered sandals scraped against the floor as he gambled each spindly leg to carry the weight of his body as he laboured one foot, centimeters, in front of the other. to the untrained eye it was a shuffle, but in the heart and mind and soul of an aged man it was a sprint. it was all his wishes come true.

and as he did so, the world skipped, cantered, hopped, jogged, ran, marched, jumped, strolled, sauntered, pranced, trotted and ambled by around him.

keeping up appearances

2007-09-08T21:24:00.000+08:00

that's the name of the game.

don't like it?

well, then, YOU LOSE, SUCKER!!

this time its for real

2007-09-04T23:49:00.000+08:00

left side low beam headlights are out.

seriously.

gack! why don't you believe me?!

mmmmmeleeeeeeeelaarrrrrghghg!

and thats why we argue

2007-08-21T21:40:00.000+08:00

it was something that he would dread.

she would yell.

she would yell as he came through the front door.

she would yell as he was in the shower.

she would yell over dinner.

she would yell before bed.

and she would yell some more.

he never did like to yell. he figured she could yell enough for the both of them. besides, his head hurt when she did so. the veins on his temple felt weak and the muscles in his neck were always close to cramping up. his throat would rasp in the aftermath and there would be much spit to clean up. and that was never a good thing.

all he felt he could do was pray quietly that her lungs would give out before his ears did.

but little did he know...

that all she really wanted...

was for him to yell back.

09/08/07

2007-08-09T09:00:00.001+08:00

whooooo!

this year is just chock-a-block full of cool dates eh?

i killed a cat

2007-08-07T23:40:00.000+08:00

a white one.

not 10 minutes ago.

it ran out into the street from the bushes lining the east coast parkway.

and i squashed it beneath my driver's side front tyre.

i saw it roll around a little bit in the rear view mirror as i sped away at approximately 85 km/h in the center lane.

when i got home, i got out of the car and inspected the front wheel for some remnance of the life i just took.

there was none. no blood. no splatter. nothing. the journey back must have spun whatever might have ended up on the wheel away.

there was probably a smell, but i have a cold.

i don't know if i would have wanted to see or smell anything.

i just thought maybe there should have been more to a life than a 'thud' beneath a wheel.

there is none.

except these stupid words in cyberspace.

---------

they say animals can sense when you've killed one of their own. i'll let you know.

the great happiness space

2007-07-26T11:21:00.000+08:00

its poetic justice. that the ones who sell happiness should be the saddest of all.

he was tired.

his head was throbbing. his mouth was dry. the cigarette that he had lit for comfort now tasted bitter in his mouth. 'wait. or is that just the taste of alcohol?' Issei didn't know anymore.

"Issei, where are you! i miss you! come back here and join us!"

"of course! i'm sorry for leaving you all alone! don't worry, it won't happen again!"

"liar! you always say it 'won't happen again', but in 5 minutes you'll be gone, attending to someone else!"

"oh, come on, don't say that. i'm here now! let's be happy! let's drink! you first! go! go! go!"

his gut wrenched. 'if i have anymore i'm going to puke'. not too long ago a friend and colleague of his had coughed blood. Issei knew it would be his turn soon. 'my liver is fucked' he winced as the cork flew off another champagne bottle. 'it better not be tonight though,' he looked around at the smiling faces of girls flushed with drunkenness, clinging to his arms, each one clamouring desperately for his attention, 'i have too much work.'

"oh, Issei, i'm having a great time!"

"haha! of course, you are! that's why you come to see me, right?"

"marry me, Issei!"

"are you sure? if i did that, you wouldn't be able to have fun like you're having now! but who knows, right? time will tell what happens between us."

it was an art. tug at the right strings and any girl will stay hooked forever. keep them wanting more. never give them what they want. but yet entice them just enough for them to come back for more. it was an art. and Issei had perfected it. he had to. his next paycheck depended on it.

"but enough of the future! lets have fun right now! right now, its just you and me."

change the subject. redirect their attention. keep them happy. keep them focused on this dream. lie. lie to them. and blind yourself. ignore your morals. there was no room for sympathy here. it was a tricky business. and morals and sympathy was a one way ticket to bankruptcy.

"i love you, too."

"do you, Issei? i don't believe you."

but they did. girls will always believe what they want to believe. all Issei had to do was tell them what they wanted to hear, and he'd have won. for every girl he met, he would have a different approach. 'be like water' mused Issei. to fifteen girls he was fifteen different people. as long as it would make them happy, he could be anyone at all.

and to himself, he was...

he was...

'?'

Issei didn't know anymore. amidst the singing and the music that blared through the club, amongst his drunken clients and his even more drunk colleagues, Issei found himself in a silent void, an ache tearing at his chest. his ears began to ring and the tips of his fingers began to sting. for a split second, Issei forgot to breath.

"Issei! hey, Issei! pay attention! its your turn to drink! you're not drunk are you?"

the music returned. the noise resumed. the ache was quelled. and sucking hard through his nose, Issei blinked himself back to reality.

"what? what are you talking about? me? drunk? you really are the funniest girl in the world, aren't you?"

Issei grabbed the jug, 'i will have to wait.'

"As punishment, you'll have to buy me another jug when i'm done with this!"

"its a deal! go, Issei, go! drink! drink! drink!"

he tilted his head back and emptied the pint of vodka in one swig. his face twisted as he swallowed hard, the burning in his throat and chest almost knocking him over. he breathed out stiffly and turned the jug upside-down over his head. 'like i know where my head is anymore.'

"yay! barkeep! one more for Issei!"

"bring it on!"

the alcohol turned violently in his stomach, but the corners of his lips remained turned up. 'smile, Issei, smile'.

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

inspired by The Great Happiness Space, a documentary by Jake Clennel
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-6186147595582048109&pr=goog-sl

i know this is an old joke...

2007-07-24T15:51:00.000+08:00

... but what crazy weirdo thought that this would make a good nursery rhyme!?

Rock-a-bye baby on the tree top,
when the wind blows, the cradle will rock.
When the bow breaks the cradle will fall,
and down will come baby, cradle and all.

you have to be kidding me! and people sing this to their children to coax them to sleep?! relax and go to bed while you dream of falling from a tree?! what the heck is a baby doing up in a tree?!

if there is any logical, social-politcal reason behind this song, PLEASE tell me.

even something like, "it was created in the time of the black plague, so it was safer for children to be in high places to avoid the germs, but the hopelessness and despair of the time and the dreary, pessimistic situation made people succumb to the futility of their actions which led them to believe that death was unavoidable, even for the sweetest and most innocent of God's children." will do fine to bridge this gap of complete idiocy and appropriateness!

good day!

07/07/07

2007-07-07T07:07:00.000+08:00

like so many others who will be posting today, i hereby add my own post to remember this cool but otherwise significantly insignificant day.

hooray!

the girl with kaleidoscope eyes

2007-07-03T01:14:00.000+08:00

she stood with the sun in her eyes.

and i could not stop myself from talking to her.

"what are you doing up here, girl with kaleidoscope eyes? what is it that you see?"

she turned her head slowly. purposefully, but nonchalant.

"i see tangerine trees and marmalade skies. cellophane flowers of yellow and green towering over your head. i see a bridge by the fountain where people on rocking horses eat marshmallow pies. i see a world of gold and blue and red."

"but there is nothing here but bricks and mortar. men in suits with files under their arms and papers to their noses. the billowing smoke from trucks and cars. broken windows and leaky hoses."

"you asked me what i saw, and i told you."

i turned to look, too. and slowly, very slowly, a grey fedora turned to red. a rhythmic bob as it is carried away atop a wave of dead commute. a mere trickle amidst a monochrome sea. and with much effort, i thought i could barely comprehend it.

"how beautiful it must be. if only i, too, had kaleidoscope eyes. if only i could be like you."

she blinked. and her eyes sparkled. and with an unwavering honesty, she spoke again.

"why would you want to be like me?"

her voice was faded. and her breath was sore. and with eyes closed, she sighed.

"why would you want to be twice removed from reality?"

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

inspired by Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, The Beatles.

car trouble

2007-06-30T09:51:00.000+08:00

since i started driving the family car, there has been:

1) 1 parking accident
2) 2 scrapes
3) a couple near misses
4) a fizzled out dashboard
5) burned out low beam headlights

what fun!

my God

2007-05-29T17:43:00.000+08:00

a long time ago, i discovered God.

probably when i was 12 or 11.

i can't really remember how i became a Christian. i do remember sitting in for a lot of bible study sessions that made me very uncomfortable. i remember being moved to tears and confessing my sins to the Almighty One. i remember going to church and falling asleep. i remember volunteering as a member in Youth For Christ. i remember walking the streets and sharing the Good News. i remember trying to convince my family that God was the only way. i remember being self-righteous telling off my friend, who had a drinking problem at age 14, and saying to him, "i won't judge you. but what would God think?" i remember one bible study when a door slammed shut from the wind and i retorted, "niaaaah.... sheeeaaddduup!" like Daffy Duck and all the kids laughed but the bible study teacher said to me, "now, as a Christian, you don't say things like that. its very rude." i remember praying to God during a softball game, "please God, let us win. if we win, i'll never ask anything of you ever again." we did win, and i did ask again. i remember being close to a girl, and her friend said to me, "if only you were Catholic."

who is this being that created me and is responsible for everything in my life, before and after i met Him?

whether He's real or not, and as much as i'm often inclined to deny Him, discovering God has been important to me.

yeeesh.
-------------
"When you do things right, people won't be sure you've done anything at all." - 'God', Futurama

i am rock

2007-05-17T13:22:00.000+08:00

proudly, the rock sits.

'the stillness of my form more readily accentuates my rough, yet stout and unwavering stature. yes, i am very much unlike the fallen leaf, who so readily commits himself to the wind. just as i am the concrete opposite of the blade of grass that bends to every invisible force that would choose to move it. firmly here i stand, set in my way, confident and without even the minutest of doubt. i... am rock.'

and so the rock continues to sit in its quiet dignity, just as it always had.

oblivious, that for a rock, it is most talkative.

nothing to report

2007-05-10T14:31:00.000+08:00

yup.

absolutely nothing.

its quite sad really.

hmm.

Mr Children - Shirushi

2007-05-03T01:54:00.000+08:00

because youtube won't let me upload it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YkICF3BEt6Y&mode=related&search=

i wonder...

2007-04-20T19:08:00.000+08:00

... how many ants i've eaten accidently.

they always seem to be floating around in the soup.

sometimes in the cereal.

sometimes it looks like it could be an ant, but its really just a piece of meat that looks like an ant.

on a side note, has anyone noticed how ants seem to be getting smaller and smaller?

i mean, right now, the common domestic house ant (made that species up. could you tell?) is downright miniscule compared to the ones i remember seeing not 10 years ago.

same for mosquitoes. they are tiny now.

mosquitoes also seem to be taking smaller bites.

instead of the Super Big Gulps of yesteryears, today it seems they're more into single shot cappucinos.

ah, evolution, you happen right in front of our eyes.

don't tell the conservative Christian community though. eye-roling is really unbecoming.

one stitch on my face...

2007-04-15T21:58:00.000+08:00

...for every year i've been alive.

flame

2007-04-13T11:51:00.000+08:00

'excuse me! can you help me, please! i seem to be almost put out!'

'what? who said that?'

'i did! i'm down here! the little flame in the fireplace!'

'oh. hello, little flame. that's an awfully small peace of wood you're sitting on.'

'nngggh! please, miss! could you bring me another? i fear i'm losing my grip and will fall at any moment!'

'i don't know. i was told never to play with fire.'

'please! i'll do you no harm! i just need a little more wood so that i may sit comfortably for a little while longer!'

'oh? and why is it that you would need to be around a little longer?'

'i was started by a girl who needed some warmth! but she is gone for the moment. still, i'd like to be here when she returns! she might still need me! it is a terrible thing to be cold.'

'could she not make another flame if she needed it?'

'... yes. she could... but... but will it know to warm her face the way she likes? and to be gentle with her hands? they are so smooth and delicate. any flame who did not know better would surely burn them. please! you must not let that happen! this piece of wood will soon burn out and me with it! will you not throw in just one more? just one big enough for the girl to return?'

'what if the wood she used was meant to be that small? perhaps she had known she would not return? what if she came back already warm, would you not feel saddened that she no longer needed you?'

'... that would be cruel if it were true.'

'on the contrary, if she returned to see you still burning, would she not feel ashamed of herself for having let you burn in vain?'

'are you... asking me to burn out?'

'i'm asking you to remain in her memory the way she would want you to.'

'...will she be warm?'

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

inspired by Calcifer, Howl's Moving Castle

talk

2007-03-20T07:36:00.000+08:00

and then, she began talking to herself.

years of solitude had driven her to it.

sitting in her little room day in and day out. nothing to do except watch television or recite religious teachings from the book.

hadn't her family noticed it? hadn't they seen her sit there with a blank expression on her face. hadn't they asked?

and then, she began talking to herself.

first it was to other people. "what is that man saying? can you hear what he's saying?"

"what man?"

"that man in the corner. here, come closer, sir. i cannot hear you from way over there."

"what are you talking about? there's no one there."

"there! in the corner! come closer, please! speak up!"

with furrowed brow and a concern only for the 2 minutes that had been wasted, the family left the room.

and then, she began talking to herself.

"instead of talking from over there, why not just come in? i'll wait for you. here's our address. come. come and we'll talk properly. no, that's not the address. listen carefully, now. got it? ok, i'll wait for you."

and she got out of her chair in her room.

"family! family! open the door! we have guests!"

"what? what are you talking about? what guests?"

"i don't know. he said he was coming."

"who said?"

"i told him i would wait for him. i gave him our address. open the door for him."

"gave who our address? who is this man?"

"i don't know. open the door. i told him i would wait for him."

"there is no one there! no one rang the door bell! there is no man!"

"eh? there's no one at the door..."

"of course there isn't!"

"he said he would come."

the door slammed shut, and she returned to her room. what little color she had, drained from her face.

and then, she began talking to herself.

"did you get the address right? here it is again. got it? ok, good. come when you're ready. i'll be waiting."

and she dressed herself.

washed her white hair and styled it with her fingers for it was curly and could not be brushed.

powdered her face and colored her lips.

opened a tiny box which contained her tiny trinkets. clipped them to her ears. stuck one in her hair. nestled one around her neck. and threaded the rest through her hands and fingers.

dug into her closet and pulled out her finest blouse.

slipped on her socks and shoes and left her room.

with her purse under one arm and her cane in the other she hobbled to the front door.

"where are you going?!"

"the man is coming."

"what man?!"

"i don't know. he said he would come. i'll just wait for him here. if he comes, he comes. if he doesn't then he doesn't"

"you got dressed to go out with someone you don't even know?! who is he?! what does he want!?"

"he should be here soon. i gave him our address. i'll just sit here untill he comes."

"no one is coming!"

"he wanted to talk to me but i couldn't hear him. so i asked him to come."

and she sat down and waited.

and then, she began talking to herself.

the grandma...

2007-03-13T17:58:00.000+08:00

... has been accusing the maid of stealing her stuff.

grandma now refers to the maid as (roughly translated) "the thief".

she's recently started telling me that this thing or that is missing from her room.

problem is, i really don't understand maybe three-quarters or more of what she's saying.

so most of the time its her talking and me trying to figure out what it is exactly she's trying to say.

tone of voice, gestures and what little understanding of Cantonese/Hokkien combine together to make a passive listener.

during one such accussational session, she suddenly veered off topic and stared talking about how she raised her children.

something about her children wanting to go to an English-speaking school, and how every cent she had went into paying the tuition fees.

"they say its better, you know. your dad thought so, your aunt thought so. so what could I do? i payed. everything cent i had i used to pay. it was expensive."

she never talked to me about these things before. most times its stuff like "i don't have much appetite anymore." or "look. look at my arm. i suddenly have this spot. it was never there before." or "i wanted to go to the temple, but i get tired so easily now. how can i go? i walk a couple of steps and i'm tired. i'm old."

i don't say anything. i don't know what to say and how to say it. most i know how to say is "yes" or "no" so that leaves me with a lot of nodding and smiling in between.

but this time, i felt like i had enough.

she'd just been showing me all her little hiding spots, and how she couldn't sleep because she's afraid the maid would come in and steal her things in her sleep, and how nobody believes her about the maid stealing her things. 15 mins into this, she pulls up a chair "here come. why don't you sit down."

"i can't stay. i have an appointment." i remained standing, arms folded and my feet turned away.

she's a little hard of hearing, so i have to raise my voice everytime i talk to her.

this time, i thought i sounded dfferent.

maybe it was because her room was small and stuffy, or maybe i was frustrated, but i could hear myself speak. it was almost like i heard it for the first time. and it wasn't pleasant.

she didn't persue the matter and just sat there and sighed.

less than a minute later, my phone rang.

without excusing myself, i left her room and answered it.

a minute later i was back and she had gotten up and was washing her face.

"it's ok. go watch your TV." she said softly.

and i did leave. i went out and had a good time with my friends.
----------------------------------------------------------
i've often given myself the excuse of looking after the grandma, being around the house so that i could do something if anything should happen, as a reason not to study or work overseas. as a reason not to get a regular job so that i could have the time to react to emergencies. as a reason for me to have time to deal with things more important than money, commercial success and fame.

well done, bob.

vrrrooooooom!

2007-02-13T21:13:00.000+08:00

license came in the mail today.

the photo is really bad :(

drove my mom around the day after i passed. yes, its been a long time coming and i was ecstatic (can you tell?).

in other news, i bought a bicycle. SGD250 second hand. not bad. its a bit smaller than the one that got stolen (my brother bought that one for about SGD1500... eeps) a couple years ago.

if anything happens to it this time at least it wouldn't hurt as bad...

a e i o u

2007-02-08T23:02:00.000+08:00

english words that have none of the above:

fly
myth
sly
cry
lymph
nymph
try
pry
dry
rhyme (doh!)
hymn
wry
ply
my
why
shy
glyph

thats all off the top of my head.

help please!
------------
p.s. no names, you!

i, driver

2007-02-08T22:06:00.000+08:00

a journey that began on the 5th of Sep 2006 (actually.. it began sometime in 1998 if you wanna REALLY nitpick), cost about SGD1600, and more than 3000 minutes ended today, the 8th of February 2007.

ah yes. let my new life begin!

but first.. there is a need to gloat.

goat + float = gloat

yay. done.
-------------------
p.s. yah, i got distracted half way into the post.. sue me!

golf

2007-02-05T23:38:00.000+08:00

went to the range today.

and broke a friend's driver.

Chuck! Forgive me!
--------------------
there was something important i wanted to say... but i forget what it is... typical.

the miserable man

2007-01-21T08:19:00.000+08:00

"so why're you like that?"

"hm? whad'dya mean?"

"you know, why are you miserable all the time?"

"i dunno... i just am?"

"oh c'mon. no one is "just miserable". its a choice. you can choose to be happy, or you can choose to be miserable."

"i guess... well, now that i think about it, i guess its 'coz i'm lonely."

"what?"

"'misery begs company'."

"oh, harhar, very clever. so if you're not lonely, you won't be miserable? then don't be lonely?"

"you mean like make friends? tried that. didn't like it."

"so you're telling me: you don't like to make friends, and because of that you're lonely, and because of THAT, you're miserable?"

"yeah... pretty much."

"you're pathetic."

"hm... making friends is such a hassle, you know? i mean, you think its as easy as going out, smiling and shaking a few hands. but it really isn't. there's responsibility, there's attachment, there's emotion, there's investment of various and numerous sorts. its very complex, i'm sure you of all people should understand."

"that's what making friends is about. everybody has to do it. what? you're not good at it? is that why you don't like it?"

"not so much as 'being good' as 'having the ability to'."

"you don't have the 'ability to' make friends?!"

"it often starts out simple enough. you find a common interest, hang out, share a few drinks and a laugh. easy. but its when all that other stuff comes in that i begin to have trouble. its easy to make friends. but its hard to be a friend."

"you never take it far enough to even begin to comprehend what you're saying! to me, you're just theorizing. and you're a coward."

"have you ever let anyone down?"

"sure. of course. it happens."

"sucks, doesn't it?"

"yeah, sure. i mean i wouldn't want to be let down by my friends. nobody does."

"and when it does happen. it makes it feel like all that laughing and fun times was a farce. it was something you had to do, like an investment. you had to buy friendship with laughter."

"we all make mistakes. just apologize and move on. you can't feel disappointed forever."

"so you let your friend down and you just 'move on'? pretend it never happened? carry on being happy like before?"

"why not?"

"you hurt someone. you. hurt. someone. you fooled them into liking you and trusting you. you bought them with your laughs and good feelings. and you hurt them."

"its life you know? you feel happy, you feel sad. you get hurt. but it doesn't always have to be that way."

"well..."

"..."

"it only hurts when i laugh."
--------------------------
inspired by The City of Frownsville, The Powerpuff Girls.

grab life by the balls!

2007-01-17T21:33:00.000+08:00

when i was still in university, staying in hall and doing nothing but eat, sleep and play basketball (hey! things never change!), i remember vividly this one incident (of many, i assure you) that still bothers me.

it was some kind of open air concert hall event thingy. good friends playing bad music on stage and everyone just out to have a good time. but there was, strangely, no one in front of the stage like a real concert. most of us just hung around the edges and looked down from our rooms. i was on the edges.
then the act on stage at that moment started playing this elvis song (1 o'clock, 2 o'clock 3 o'clock rock!) and we were all pretty much into it (first real rock 'n' roll song all night).
i think the first stanza was just over when Jackie (not her real name.. or IS it?), who was simply itching to jump out and dance asked me to join her.

"c'mon bobby! let's dance!"

no points for guessing what i did. boo!

i refused her a couple times, and she, not having anyone to dance with (her girl friends hadn't arrived yet), reluctantly sat down also as the song played on.

stoopid stoopid stoopid! you are TEH DUMBDEREST EDEEEEOT!

*sigh* you fool.

Jackie is now happily attached, last i heard, and i wouldn't be surprised if she isn't already on the road to marriage.

you go girl. don't forget to invite me to the wedding.
-----------------------------------
this other time, i was on my way home from hall, and i saw Jackie at hockey practice.
i strolled up to the gate and hung around outside.
she noticed i was there (i was conveniently shouting at my friends who were also at hockey practice, hahhah!) and walked up to the gate where i was.
we exchanged a few words. and then i bailed.

"er. i think i better go now. don't want to disturb your practice."

"no lah, they're not doing anything now."

"izzit? no, i think i better go."

real smooth, bobby. REAL smooth.

2007-01-17T19:00:00.000+08:00

omgomgomgomg!

Its button moon!! woot!

california dreaming.. on such a winter's daaaaaaaaay

2006-12-27T13:12:00.000+08:00

had 2 dreams in one night a couple nights ago.

first:
a man with a gross fetish/desire to kill people, someone how got permission to kill death row inmates ("they're gonna die anyway.")
but just as we are ready to dismiss this psycho for the crazy arsehole that we thought he was, we somehow 'discover' (this is MY dream so i somehow sorta knew how it was going to end when it started.) that before he killed anyone, he would ask them if they had any regrets/last wishes etc, and would do his utmost to fulfill them.
so while the world curses and swears at the bugger, the people whom he helped (the family etc of the killed) would think that man a saint.
(hooray for anti-heroes!)

second:
the world is coming to an end. all the polar ice caps have melted and a world consuming tsunami is about to engulf us all. since we're all going to die anyway, i decided there would be no need for any of our belongings anymore. so i 'did what i always wanted to do', that is, to throw stuff out of my 24th storey window.
i got some people in on the act (don't remember who.. darn) and we started throwing stuff out the balcony and watched it fall to the ground. there were people already running in the opposite direction of the ocean and i remember thinking 'oh no, what if it hits someone?' then i thought, 'aiyah we're all gonna die anyway so who cares?!'
each time i went back into the house for more stuff to throw, i remember picking and choosing the stuff. 'maybe i shouldn't throw out that low-table.. and Mom really likes that horse statue so maybe not that either..' also noteworthy was that though the exterior view of the house is that of the one where i live now, the interior house is the one at Cairnhill where i used to stay, between the ages of about 6-17 years old.
and as i grabbed the last thing (before i woke up) and hurled it out into oblivion, i saw the thunderstorm in the distance and i thought, 'this is it, we're gonna die. I'M gonna die.'
and i thought about how it would be like to drown.
and i was scared.
and i didn't want to die.
-----------------------
me thinks its because i'm about to lose my job at MTV.

"what's your goal in life?"

2006-12-23T17:00:00.000+08:00

asked the banker.

"hmm... what's yours?" replied the garbage disposal man.

"first, i'm gonna earn a lot of money, then i'm going to open my own restaurant."

"i see... now that i think about it... i don't think i have a goal yet."

"hah! you can't be serious! you HAVE to have a goal. take me for example. i took this job coz it pays good. do i like this job? no. but who cares? its easy and all i have to do is mosey along for about 10 years before i can quit and do what i really want. the bottom line is: without a goal, you're not going anywhere."

"hmm.. you have a point. well, i don't have a goal. but i do know that the path that i'm on right now will lead me to my goal."

"but you don't even know what it is!"

"that's true. but its because i don't know, that i can better appreciate the present. that i MUST make my present better. after all, my present is connected to my future, and its there were i'll eventually find my goal, no matter what it may be." You have your sights set so far ahead you don't even see what's directly in front of you, and you're squandering it."

----------------
inspired by REAL, a manga by Takehiko Inuoue

"hah! thats just an excuse losers like you make up for your lack of ambition!"
"i guess so..."

Vagabond

2006-12-01T17:08:00.000+08:00

the lone Swordsman roamed the land in search of a greater challenge.

"to become the best in the world." he would goad himself when times were harsh.

"to be the greatest swordsman in the world." he would chant to fend off the cold.

"to have no equal." he meditated to stave off his hunger.

his journey was long and arduous.

and he would slay many men on his climb towards his dream.

after each victory he would think to himself, "i draw nearer to my goal."

looming over each new defeated opponent he would reassure himself, "soon my journey will end."

after many years of travel and having seen much death, the Swordsman was finally confronted by his most powerful, and final adversary.

"i have travelled long and hard to find you." breathed the Swordsman.

"and so have i travelled far and wide to find you." came the reply.

"after i slay you, i shall be the strongest swordsman in the world."

"after i win, i shall have no equal."

both men drew their swords and stood poised, ready to fight.

"in a few seconds my journey will end."

"with one stroke of my blade, this will all be over."

"goodbye.."

"farewell.."

the sky and the land was tainted red with the blood of the fallen as the roars of both men echoed into the distance.

"..Friend."

--------------
inspired by Vagabond, Takehiko Inuoue

you mule!

2006-11-23T17:10:00.000+08:00

one word has followed me throughout my life.

and it comes as no surprise, i'm sure, to any of you who know me.

the word is: stubborn.

i hate this word. hatehatehate.

but the joke is on you! i will reason thus:

you call me 'stubborn', based on your own standards.

you are therefore imposing your standards on me.

you imposing your standards on me implies, therefore, that you are unable to accept MY standards.

and by refusing to accept my standards, you are yourself not open to alternative standards.

because you are not open to alternative standards, you are, by implication, not willing to compromise your own morals.

and by not being flexible with your own morals, you yourself are therefore, stubborn.

BUAHAHAaahhaAHAHAhaHAAH!

p.s.: not only that, calling me 'stubborn' makes you pushy, narrow-minded and impatient!

p.p.s.: i'm not stubborn!! i'm noooooootttt!!!

an comic

2006-11-07T15:40:00.000+08:00

The bunny peered its head out from behind his curtain and Agatha was happy to see him.

"Hello, So-and-so."

The bunny smiled merrily and jumped onto stage in reply.

"Hey, Agatha."

But Agatha suddenly sighed.

"Things have been pretty rough recently..."

The bunny put one furry paw to its mouth and gasped in concern.

"Oh dear!"

But no sooner had he done so that the bunny sought to lighten the mood.

"Think of something nice. Say it out loud."

Without missing a beat, a delighted Agatha squealed as she watched the bunny do a playful handstand.

"In that case I will say... So-and-so!"

But the bunny was suddenly disappointed and furrowed its furry brow apologetically. It drooped its tuffy white ears as it began to sigh firmly.

"No, Agatha. Not this time..."

And as he bounded away back behind the curtain, Agatha could see only its bushy tail as he heard him continue to say,

"This time think of something real."
---------------------------
adapted from the comic Art & Agatha by Barnaby Richards, 2004

ode to video games

2006-11-04T11:53:00.000+08:00

i love my video games! have been playing them since i was.. oh..maybe 6.. and through the years i've played a few very special games.. a select few that maybe changed my life forever.
so without further inclinations towards my geekazoid-ish-ness and ado, and in no particular order, i bring you:

THE 10 BEST GAMES I HAVE EVER PLAYED!
------------------
Skies of Arcadia (RPG)
------------------
This is the one of a few game that has ever made me cry.
Even though it is the first game on this list, i am finding it very hard to say exaclty why i like this game so much.
Really the only thing (and many argue the MOST important thing in RPGs) i can truly say struck me is the story (omigod and the opening soundtrack.. beautifully majestic.)
You're a pirate sailing the seven skies in your trusty airship and you're unsuspectingly drawn into an adventure to foil a conspiracy to control ancient powers in order to bring chaos and eventually rule the world. And even that is classic RPG fare.
But as they say, its the execution of the tried and true formulas that seperate the good from the great, and the great from the excellent, and from the excellent to the historically mindblowing (or something like that).
Each character has its own unique and deep story. Each plot point is carefully inserted and resurfaced with just the amount of care. And the ending (wooooh boy the ending!) of this game is the single most satisfying experience i've ever had in a video game.
Story-telling gold.

------------------
Chrono Trigger (RPG)
------------------
A true classic in every sense of the word. One of the best RPGs ever conceived and i dare you to find anyone who's ever played it to honestly say they didn't like it.
The innovative battle system (which is another 'make or break' in RPGs) and its compelling and focused story line, made in the golden age of gaming, is a true masterpiece.
Its hard to say what exactly made this game so great for me (although an epic soundtrack and the aforementioned battle system helps that quite a bit), but it was the overall experience that really made this game shine through.
Do yourself a favor and (a) go to Japan and look for some crazy old coot who's stockpiled thousands of old games and game systems adn buy this game (b) go on ebay and look for the idiot willing to sell his copy OR (c) find a Super Nintendo Entertainment System emulater for your computer and get this game. Now.

------------------------------------
Shadow of the Colossus (Action Adventure)
------------------------------------
The first game of its kind, i believe, to boast nothing but boss battles.
In most action adventures, you're made to wade through hours and hours of levels and puzzles and more hours of (sometimes) pointless interactions with NPCs (non-playable characters. like 'extras' in a film).
Some developers see this as a given, seeing that people won't spend USD60 to play a game that ends in 2 hours.
But the boys who made Shadow of the Colossus had a different take: that the long hours of adventuring take away from the point of the game - that is, to kill the giant monster at the end of the level.
So the solution is obvious... make it a game of purely boss battles!
"But still, if its just boss battles, then the game will STILL end in 2 hours and people STILL won't buy it!"
"Ahah! Not if the bosses are soooooo big that they each take 2 hours to kill!!"
Tadah! Shadow of the Colossus is born!
Ride on your magnificent steed and ride around in a beautiful but barren world, find the big bad colossi and kill them all to save your one true love.
Simple. Elegant. Brilliant.
edit: there's a nice touch added to the ending sequence, that i forgot to mention, that really drives home the theme of the story. so sad. so futile. makes your heart ache.

----------------
Counter Strike (FPS)
----------------
Ah, the hours i've spent playing this game at the obscure lan-shop with buddies (i lurve you all K7!).
I'm not a big fan of First Person Shooters, but the sheer joy of playing this mindless game with friends puts this game on the list easy.

--------------
Halo/Halo2 (FPS)
--------------
For all the hype surrounding this game, i must admit i was slightly turned off when i first discovered it was a First-Person Shooter. I'm not a big shooter fan so i was rather disappointed when i first laid my hands on it on my brother's xbox.
But 2 hours in and i couldn't put it down. It was fast, it was exciting and you could shoot, blow up and run-over alien monsters who are threatening the very existence of man!
My brother boasts of girls who started playing it and gave up shopping to play it! My god if that doesn't convince you nothing will.
You did good with this one Microsoft. Fark!

-------------------------------
Advance Wars (Turn-based Stradegy)
-------------------------------
There is a friend of mine who is not what you would call a gamer. Sure he plays Counter Strike with us and enjoys the occasional Winning Eleven here and there, but thats pretty much it. So imagine my surprise when i bring this gem of a game to my dormitory at school to ease the tension over exams.
I challenge him to a game and he graciously patronized me. We never finished that first game, nor any other games following that, but over the next couple of weeks he would come to my room and relax before the next class and ask, "Eh, bob, where's that fun game, ah? The army one?"
Another one bites the dust. And it really is loads of fun.

-------------------
Double Dragon (Action)
-------------------
I played this game to pieces on my Nintendo Entertainment System back in the day and it was always a challenge. I really don't remember much of the specific levels or all the moves you could do, but there's a warm feeling inside when i think about this game: the weird squelching noise when you jump, the cool helicopter spin kick special move and the fact that it was a two-player game!
it was a simple two-button affair, but the sheer number of moves was simple staggering for an 8 year old of the time. Like all great games it was easy and fun to pick up and play, but it also took great skill and was always a challenge to get to the end.

---------------------
Katamari Damacy (Action Puzzler)
---------------------
You have never seen a game like this. And you probably won't ever see one like it again. Ever.
The premise is simple: You roll a 'Katamri' (a sticky, oddly-shaped ball) around, using it to pick up everyday objects that lay strewn on the ground. Your Katamari starts small so you'll only be able to pick little stuff up like ants or paper clips, but as you gather more and more stuff, your Katamari gets bigger and bigger, and you'll eventually be able to pick up things like post boxes, elephants, clouds, mountains, rainbows, islands and eventually the whole solar system!
But the real kicker, is the music. The soundtrack is absolutlely delightful and you'll want to play the game just to hear that special tune.
Play it, and you'll be surprised just how much you'll love it.

------------------------
Super Mario Kart (Kart Racer)
------------------------
Who can hate Mario? Well... many people i guess, but that doesn't stop him from being one of the most recognizeable characters in video games. Since his grand appearance in Super Mario World (which is the godfather of ALL platform games ever made and which many still regard as THE best platformer ever.), Mario has moved on to many, many other things and many people have critisized Nintendo for using the face of Mario to sell its games.
While this may be true, it is also true that all games with Mario in it have been good, if not great and genre re-defining.
Super Mario Kart was the first of its kind and, in my opinion, is still the best kart racer to this day. Many have tried and many have failed miserably to emulate the perfection of this fun racer and it will be a long time before a better one is made.
You can mark my words on that one.

----------------------
Super Bomberman (Action)
----------------------
Excuse me? Did you say 4 players?!
This game wouldn't be what it is without that magic number.
You and 3 other friends fight frantically to blow each other up in a square grid using bombs, wits, lightning reflexes and little else. It is the most fun 4 people can have indoors (yup.. better than Twister by a long shot!) and is a must for any respectable party.
Again, its simple to play and tough to master but you can be sure it'll be fast, furious and frantic every step of the way!
I got this game as an 'extra' to a 2-in-1 game i bought. That poor 'other game' never had a chance. Ker-blaowee!

And so ends my list of the 10 best games i've ever played. Each one owns a little piece of my heart that'll forever, never be replaced.
A toast to you mon amie! You complete me!
---------------------------------------------------
tune-in next time for the games that almost made this list. they're great games too... but i said 10 so.. i stuck with that..

did you know...?

2006-11-02T12:04:00.000+08:00

heard of the miracle of Christ who fed an entire congregation of people with only 2 fish and some bread? here's an excerpt from the good book:
-----------------------------------
Gospel of Mark 6:34-44

34 Jesus came out, saw a great multitude, and he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd, and he began to teach them many things.

35 When it was late in the day, his disciples came to him, and said, "This place is deserted, and it is late in the day.

36 Send them away, that they may go into the surrounding country and villages, and buy themselves bread, for they have nothing to eat."

37 But he answered them, "You give them something to eat." They asked him, "Shall we go and buy two hundred denarii worth of bread, and give them something to eat?"

38 He said to them, "How many loaves do you have? Go see." When they knew, they said, "Five, and two fish."

39 He commanded them that everyone should sit down in groups on the green grass.

40 They sat down in ranks, by hundreds and by fifties.

41 He took the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up to heaven, he blessed and broke the loaves, and he gave to his disciples to set before them, and he divided the two fish among them all.

42 They all ate, and were filled.

43 They took up twelve baskets full of broken pieces and also of the fish.

44 Those who ate the loaves were five thousand men.
------------------------------
it is also said (in one of the other Gospels) that the 5 loaves of bread and 2 fish came only from a single boy.

wow, a miracle.

but its not really a miracle like its made out to be: that of physically making enough bread and fish to feed 5000 people. its really the miracle of sharing.

Christ did not make all that food. the people had them on their persons all along, but they were just too selfish to share it when the disciples went around asking for food to share.
but they were later so embarrassed by the generosity displayed by a young boy and Christ himself, that they began to take out what they themselves had and passed that around.

hooray.
--------------------
"and what kind of ship will never, ever sink?"
"i dunno..."
"a friendship!"
-Friends

2006-10-30T15:48:00.000+08:00

Mr Children - Hero

Mr Children again..
amazing shot selection..
story telling at its finest.. truly.

2006-10-30T15:42:00.000+08:00

Mr. Children - Kurumi

The first Mr Children video i ever saw a couple years ago..
still gets me every single time..

2006-10-28T11:00:00.000+08:00

Break the Law

this has been out ages (as kindly made known to me by my brother) but i've only just figured out how to put it up here... so here.

drawing blood in hospital

2006-10-20T13:57:00.000+08:00

was in hospital yesterday coz of bad belly pain (that i thought might be peptic ulcers).

and all i care to remember is the blood test.

Filipino male nurse - "Relax your arm and squeeze your fist."

it took me a moment, but i managed it.

male nurse stares intently at the bulge that appears - "yeeesss... yeeesssss... oooh thats a nice vein you got there...*deep breath* gooood..."

i am so glad i'm not a male nurse.

the boy, the shells, and the pail

2006-10-14T18:33:00.000+08:00

the old gentleman watched from afar as the little boy clutched onto his big blue pail, scowering the beach for sea shells.

"Oh!" the little boy would exclaim as he bent down to inspect the shells that caught his eye.

"you have such a pretty color! let me put you in my pail with all the other ones that i have picked up along the way."

and that is just what he did.

"Oh! you have such a unique shape! let me put you in my pail with all the other ones that i have picked up along the way."

and he did so.

as he picked up more and more shells, there was then less and less space in his pail. soon, he could no longer put any more shells in his pail.

"Oh! you make such a beautiful sound when i put you to my ear! let me put you in my pail with all the other ones that i have picked up along the way."

but the little boy could not because his pail was full.

the old gentleman looked on curiously, "what will he do, now that his pail is full, i wonder?"

and just as he had finished wondering, did he see the little boy tip his pail upside-down, letting all the shells he had picked up fall back onto the beach.

the little boy looked for a moment at all the shells that he had picked up, laying there on the beach.

then he looked at his big blue pail. he saw that it was empty, and could feel that it was lighter.

"such is the sadness of life," mused the old gentleman as he nodded to himself, "you spent all that time gathering beautiful shells, but you cannot keep them all in the end."

the little boy stood for a moment longer, looking at the shells as the waves began to wash them away.

he then looked at the shell that he was still holding, the one that made a beautiful sound when he placed it against his ear, and placed it down next to the ones that were beginning to be swept away.

"thank you, sea shells, for spending time in my big blue pail. he and i shall remember all the good times that we had together." said the little boy as he waved the sea shells 'goodbye'.

and the sea shells smiled. and the big blue pail smiled. and the boy smiled.

"my big blue pail is special because of you."

and the old gentleman smiled, because he knew that it was true.

------------------------------------
gargh... stories aren't as good when i think them up myself...

5 minutes and 5 seconds of fame

2006-10-14T08:17:00.000+08:00

hohoho!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gQs_I7zaD4Y

#$^!!@$*

2006-10-13T11:11:00.000+08:00

today i was waiting at the bus stop on my way to work.

then a filipino maid, out walking her dog, came ambling by.

she stopped next to me, bent down, and picked up a crumpled 5 dollar bill less than a foot from my right leg!!

just then, sudoku seemed much less fun.

story time!

2006-10-03T11:37:00.000+08:00

a man, perpetually unfortunate, saw himself near his end.
he'd recently lost his job, owes his landlord 3 months rent, and his past 3 days has been without electricity or running water.

no friends, no family, just the confines of his 1 room apartment. and in this dead of night, he doesn't hear a sound, nor smell the stench of his dirty laundry and rotting food, nor see further than the tip of his nose.

his only reality is the cold bite of floorboards on which he now sits; his only chair broken over a television that refused to turn on without power.

suddenly through the black, came a voice that seemed to pierce reality, and it called him, "edward."

the shrivelled up shell of a man looks up into the darkness and squints, so tired that he could only afford to be puzzled as to how someone could enter his windowless hole, with him propped up against its only exit, "wh..who's there?"

"your future. now place your mark upon this parchment, and for 50 years you shall be given a life beyond your wildest dreams."

and out from the darkness emerged a scroll, accompained by a feathered quill, its tip already coated in ink.

"and for this perfect life, i pay with my soul?"

the scroll unravels itself and the quill floats into his hand, "what else?"

edward closed his eyes and committed himself.

but when they were opened, he was met by riches truly beyond the scope of his desire. all that he had dreamed he could possess was within reach of his reguvenated person.

and with his earthly excesses, returned a confidence he had lost as a child, and it wasn't long before he would perchance to meet his only true love.

she was strong, confident and beautiful. but most of all, she loved him. and he, her.

true to the agreement, they would live in blessed matrimony for another 50 years. but when he was 87, and she 81, he would finally succumb to nature; his heart had simply stopped.

she was at his side when he breathed his last, and it was into each other's eyes they had gazed before his would close forever. "i love you" the last thing he would say, and the last thing he would hear her say. the gentleness of her hand on his, the final reality he would experience.

and as his soul pulled away into the darkness of the abyss, he would hear a familiar voice call his name.

"edward."

the voice came up alongside him and he could do naught but pour out what was left of his soul to the stranger who bore him aid, as he gazed upon the fading image of his love left behind.

"you fool. you could have loved her for an eternity. but you chose to love her only 50 years."
-----------------------------
was told this story today, and the original is supposedly written by a Nicky Mui.

expendable

2006-09-22T21:11:00.000+08:00

a little background:
i've been working at MTV Networks Asia since April 06.
i was hired to do this one show: Mobbed.
its the biggest account MTV Networks Asia has (the client is Motorola by the way) so they thought it right to hire an extra hand for the job.

fastforward to the present:
Mobbed is 5 months in and the bigwigs at Motorola aren't happy.
the show sucks; its not what they had in mind; what the show is now was not in the brief that was written last year when they were planning the show etc.
the long and the short of it is that Mobbed is now canned and the last show goes on air October 1st 2006.

moment of silence, please. ah, Mobbed, we hardly knew you.

there WILL be a new show in its place however because the unhappy Motorola, unhappy as they were, signed another 2 year deal with MTV. go figure.
this new show is still a mystery, however, but its brief is scheduled to be presented within the coming 2 to 3 weeks.

and now we come to the point of the post:
what to do with bobby in the 2 to 3 weeks (maybe even MONTHS) between now and the confirmation of the new show and its format since he has completely NOTHING to do?

"eh, bobby, can get me some coffee?"
"bobby, the intern's last day is today. tomolo help me do his job, can?"
"yo, bobby, actually i can do this job by myself, but since you have nothing to do... help me, lah. i tomolo want to take leave go on hot date, leh."

sucks to be the new guy.
------------------------------
i was playing the xbox360 in the office and got told off.

"eh, bobby, She-boss told me to tell you not to play the games during office hours."
"but i got nothing to do, wat."
"yah, i know lah. but not nice, mah."

so i went to surf internet, but my desk HAS to be placed just outside the Boss' cubicle so that he passes by EVERYTIME he has to go anywhere; take drink from the cooler, talk to colleague 2 cubicles down, take a piss etc.
i can't even do nothing when i have nothing to do!

gaargh!

when Monday rolls around, call me "INTERN"!

out from nowhere

2006-09-19T10:18:00.000+08:00

ziechon says:
do u still go to church
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
nope
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
why?
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
*gasp
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
you want to go?
ziechon says:
gosh i have heaps of church going friends, perhaps you might've liked to join them
ziechon says:
that was the motivation behind my question
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
hoho
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
i stopped going becoz i was always sleeping
ziechon says:
grieve not heathen, god [love]s all his children and does not judge thine faith (or lack thereof)
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
no leh
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
God is the only one who is allowed to judge
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
and WILL judge
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
he's a badass mofo
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
super jealous
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
and bears a grudge forever
ziechon says:
he is allowed, but he either is angry or loving, depends which era of christianity you grew up in
ziechon says:
modern christians seem to think he is a jolly old fella, sort of get mixed up with santa claus
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
God created Man as an expression of who he wants to be, but couldn't stop Woman from being born because thats what he truly is
ziechon says:
but, in the dark ages, "beware the inquisition"
ziechon says:
God created Man as an expression of who he wants to be, but couldn't stop Woman from being born because thats what he truly is - wow is that in the bible
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
no lah
ziechon says:
no wonder the perfect man is gay
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
muahahahahah!
robert: and why must we be quiet in church? because people are sleeping says:
this is going into my blog

-------------------------------------
and here it is.

vroom vroom

2006-09-09T16:25:00.000+08:00

so learning to drive is exceedingly fun.

a little more complicated that it needs to be, but fun nonetheless.

but for crying out loud,

stop teaching me how to pass the damn test and start teaching me how to drive!

stoopid singaporeans...

MTV roxxxx

2006-09-07T15:03:00.000+08:00

ain't it great to work with people who are crazy about music and music videos?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLeOiDF99Yo
Grizzly bears, ukeleles, tanks and russian dancers!
who could ask for more!?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NINJQ5LRh-0
best choreography ever seen in a music video!
i kid you not!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xq7N5sQN-hI
nice music, better video.
can YOU figure it out?

Horsey and Chicky

2006-09-06T22:22:00.000+08:00

in case you missed the comment 2 posts down... my brother is a weird guy lah.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Once upon a time there was a farm and in this farm lived Chicky the little chicken and her good pal Horsey the horse.

As there were only 2 animals in that farm they became the best of friends.

One day, after a raging thunderstorm the night before, Chicky woke up and found Horsey stuck in a deep puddle of mud outside the barn.

"Help me Chicky! I'm stuck in this mud!"

Horsey was a smart horse so he immediately remembered the old farmer's BMW 5 series parked in the garage and told Chicky to drive it over and tow him out of the puddle.

Chicky backed up the car next to horsey and tied a rope for Horsey to bite onto and 'Vrooom' with 250+ horsepower pulled one Horsey out of the mud.

"Thank you Chicky you are my best friend!" neighed Horsey, and he promised himself never to go to that part of the field ever again.

Well the next day Horsey woke up and couldn't find Chicky anywhere. He suddenly heard Chicky call out, "Help me Horsey, I'm stuck in the mud! Go grab the farmers BMW and pull me out!"

Well Horsey was a smart little pony and went over to the puddle and told Chicky, "It's ok, just reach up and grab my ding-dong and I'll pull you out!"

So Chicky stretched up her beak and nipped onto Horsey's ding-dong and with a slight twitch Horsey yanked Chicky out of the mud.

"Oh thanks Horsey, you are my best friend!"

The moral of the story is if you have a dick the size of a horse you don't need a BMW to pick up chicks.

The Big Red Monster

2006-09-06T14:28:00.000+08:00

Once upon a time,
there lived in a cave on a hill,
a Big Red Monster.

Now the Big Red Monster knew
that he was a big, red monster
and was always afraid that he would scare people away
just because he was a big, red monster.

So the Big Red Monster did the only thing he thought he should do:
stay in his cave on the hill
coming out only when he needed to do the things
that big, red monsters do.

Sometimes,
the people living at the foot of the hill,
the same hill that the Big Red Monster lives,
would wander to the hilltops,
close to the Big Red Monster's cave.

During these times
that people would come near his cave,
The Big Red Monster grew even more afraid.
"What would they think of me,
the Big Red Monster who lives in a cave?"

And so he hid,
making nary a sound,
in case the people grew curious and came looking for him,
and upon seeing him, would run away in fear,
leaving him with less friends than the none he already had.

But one day, as he came out from his cave,
the Big Red Monster saw a Straw Basket sitting outside of it.
Curious,
the Big Red Monster picked it up and looked inside.

It was full of food!
"Oh dear," thought the Big Red Monster,
"One of the people living at the foot of the hill
must have come up here,
and upon hearing my growls,
dropped her basket and fled in fear."

"i must return it!", thought the Big Red Monster.
"But i shall do so quickly and quietly
so that i do not cause anymore fear to anyone."
And so the Big Red Monster waited for night to fall.

And when it was, the Big Red Monster emerged from the hills
and walked towards the village in which the people stayed.
He was afraid.
"What if they misunderstand? What if they attack me?"

But the Big Red Monster looked at the Straw Basket
and thought of the owner who had lost it outside his cave.
"i did not mean to seperate you from your master.
She must miss you so."

Suddenly, there came a bright light
from among the houses of the village.
The Big Red Monster was caught off guard,
and in a flash he was surrounded by the people who lived there.

"Please," he quivered amongst them
the light of their torches flickering in his eyes,
"Don't hurt me. i mean you no harm.
i came only to return this Straw Basket
which was left outside my cave.
i imagine one of you came too close
and was frightened away by my growls."

The Big Red Monster lay the Straw Basket gently on the floor.
"Here it is, i took nothing from it.
i hope nothing was lost as i carried it from my cave on the hill.
i shall be going back there now.
i am sorry to have come in the dark and frightened you all."

Then a Little Girl came forward
and grabbed the Big Red Monster's hand as he turned to go.

"Thank you for bringing back my Straw Basket,"
the Little Girl began gently,
"But the food inside was for you."

The Big Red Monster stopped in his tracks.
He turned to the Little Girl,
but could only blink in disbelief.

"We were waiting for you to come down
from your cave on the hill."
Without missing a beat,
she squeezed his hand a little tighter and continued,
"What took you so long?"

withdrawal symptoms

2006-09-05T16:50:00.000+08:00

last night i went jogging.

needed to clear my head (and make myself feel like its helping my girth).

the emptiness is back.

only this time i know why its there.

work takes my mind off it. playing games.. not so much.
you know its really bad when the one thing you thought you liked to do isn't helping the situation at all.

i have a real complicated, yet very simple, problem.
and with each mistake i make it becomes easier to analyze, but more difficult to resolve.

i am stubborn, scared and confused.
with time this feeling will go away.
not resolved mind you, but at least it goes away.

until i decide i need to jog again.

wish i didn't cramp up so fast though... will probably need a couple more minutes the next time.

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

on a different note, Devil's Playground (my second directorial work), will be screening on First Takes at Substation tonight.
they better like it.. or else!!!

2006-09-03T17:02:00.000+08:00

.

last night, around 2240hrs, i was in a cab on my way to the airport to send L. off.

"so you go airport for what? picking up friend, ah?"

"no lah, sending friend off, lah."

"oh.. who? gerfren, ah?" (cabbies are so cheeky nowsadays ah...?)

"haha. no, lah. its a good fren. if is gerfren i send her there myself liao."

"oooh i see..."

then there was a strange break in the conversation. not long enough to start another topic, but short enough to maybe expect it. like a half step, or the upbeat in a tune...

"but this kind... if not someone special... you oso wun just anyhow go, right?"

then there was another break, as i turned to look out the window into the ECP.

"yah. true."

some friends come and go. but others refuse to leave.
i hate you L.
come back soon.

.

raaawwwwrrr!!

2006-08-26T11:07:00.000+08:00

Let it be known:
that on the 25th of August, 2006 AD, at 1536hrs, Bobby T sat for, and passed his FINAL THEORY DRIVING TEST1!1!!1!11!2eleventyone!11!!

worship me, ye dawgs!

i've had this feeling before

2006-08-23T00:56:00.000+08:00

it is no secret that i don't like to drink.

i've just never really liked the taste of alcohol, you know? is that so hard to believe?

but more importantly, i don't like to drink because it leaves me feeling empty (apart from the being sick and hungover... how do you people live with that, honestly? you are making yourself feel sick ON PURPOSE).

but back to the philsophising: you drink, you have fun, hahaheehee yeah its all good.

but then the day comes to an end and its time to go. you sit in the cab by yourself.

i don't know about you, but this ALWAYS happens to me (i'm melancholy big farkin' deal):

i feel empty.
i don't think thats really an appropriate description though.
its a combination of loss, lonliness, yeah-we-had-fun-so-what and... emptiness.
"what the hell am i doing?"

when i was having orientation camp in Junior Colleage i'd get the same feeling.
"yay we're having fun woohoo"
but at the end of the day, sitting in the bus on the way home... its just emptiness.

gargh. stoopid posts that go nowhere.

all tingly inside

2006-08-16T16:58:00.000+08:00

all geniuses have some kind of screw loose, some... inadequacy.

Michael Jackson, Michaelangelo, Einstein, Adolf Hitler, The Artist Formerly known as Prince, Satan...

"it balances things out. life is fair, lah." quips a colleague.

i nod and smile.

"yeah."

passive aggresive

2006-08-16T16:43:00.000+08:00

it is a terrible thing to hurt someone.

not knowing how to make it right is even worse.

not having the courage to try is a testament to one's character.

and i have failed.

weekend warrior

2006-06-05T15:14:00.000+08:00

i think i finally understand.

last weekend i played my first basketball for almost 3 months.

my team was leading 6-4 in a race to 7 points.

i posted up on the left side and received the ball in good position. the defender was almost half a head shorter than me.

"oh, you're goin' down, boyee!", i sniggered to myself.

i looked up and quikly assessed the situation. none of my team mates were in a good position to receive a pass, so i looked down and checked the defender's footing and spotted an opening to his right (dumb guy).
i turned to face him and pumped faked a dribble to his left. he bought it (man, i'm good) and took a step back with his left foot.

"you're mine now, foo!"

i drove hard to his right with my left hand, leaning in with my body, using it as a shield as i always do, overpowering the poor, skinny guy that probably wished he didn't decide to play tonight, or wondered to himself, "Why, oh why, do i have to defend the big guy?!".

i passed him easily (of course). wide open now, i picked up the ball, took a small pro hop and launched myself into the air just under the free-throw line for a quick and easy two-point jumper to finish the game.

and my right calf cramped up.

now usually when this happens (which was almost never, mind you) i'd calmly sit down, grit my teeth and swallow the pain, stretch out the offending leg and pull on my toes until the calf muscle stretched back out. simple.

but on Friday night, i simply stood there. i was shocked and confused and didn't have any clue what to do as pain surged through my right leg.

'ow, my leg. ow, ow, ow. what do i do? ow, shit, it hurts. do i sit down? dammit, ow. i know, i'll camly walk off the court. ow, f**k, i can't walk. *collapse to the floor* ow, damn, now i'm on my butt. got. to. get. up. ow. sh*t. can't stand. calf hurts. stretch it, stretch it. *grab ankle like it was a sprain* wait, thats not right. argh.'

my team lost 7-6 that game.

but as i sat there, stretching my calf and rubbing the muscles down, topping up on fluids and salt, and laughing at myself and how old i've become and remarked out loud, "i was 18 once", as i watched the rest play another half an hour of ball while i sat on my ass, i realized that deep down inside, despite it all, despite all thats happened,

i loved every second of it. and i miss it so bad.

an ode to drugs

2006-04-11T14:30:00.000+08:00

Fuck. You.

i... am a hottie

2006-03-25T23:46:00.000+08:00

ooooooh yeah! you betta b'lee dat! sho'nuff! aiiiiiite!

gotta love the Japanese

2006-03-14T09:35:00.000+08:00

ROLLING BOMBER SPECIAL!!!!
http://youtube.com/watch?v=1VMkCyViMVE&search=special%20bomber

and

a "How To..."
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-4946101556303618610&q=sushi

yay!

hmmm... i didn't know that!

2006-02-28T20:25:00.000+08:00

my phone has Bluetooth technology built in... aren't you the lucky reader?

Ezekiel 23:20-21

2006-01-18T10:45:00.001+08:00

"There she lusted after her lovers, whose genitals were like that of donkeys and whose emission was like that of horses. So you longed for the lewdness of your youth, when in Egypt your bosom was caressed and your young breasts fondled."

wow.

look it up if you don't believe me.

whine

2006-01-15T08:09:00.000+08:00

so its been awhile since i had any kind of work. almost 3 weeks (since christmas, to be vaguely exact).

and there comes a point when you start to get desperate.

"My God if i don't get some work soon i'll starve!"

so you grab anything and everything that comes along.

and it rips your soul right out of your body.

you cringe at the very thought of the impunity of what you're doing.

"this is exactly the reason why i decided to freelance, dammit! so i don't have to do shit work that i don't enjoy! so that i can feel good about myself and what i've done at the end of the day."

but the stomach growls and the future looms. the prying eyes probe at the idleness of a wasted life.

"are you going to do this forever? i mean, you've done it for almost two years now and it doesn't seem like you're going anywhere with this." says the successful property sales executive who works 60 hours a week raking in the big bucks.

in a country that doesn't respect it, passion can only take you so far. passion won't put food on the table. it won't buy your clothes or put a roof over your head.

i don't assume to have it. because Sales Executive is right. if i were as passionate about what i do as i always claim to be, wouldn't i have "done something" by now? shouldn't i be succuessful enough so that subsistence is merely an aside?

where is the drive that comes with passion?

where did i put mine?

"Cutlery"

2005-12-16T22:10:00.000+08:00

not "Utensils".

a little ol' lady

2005-12-09T23:37:00.000+08:00

was riding the bus home today when i noticed the old lady one seat in front of me.

on her person were: an umbrella, a bag of chips in an old, pink plastic bag, her handbag and another, newer white plastic bag.

when i first took notice she was folding up the newer white bag. just smoothening out the edges, looking like she was going to save it for later. and then i think she kinda noticed her other bag, the older pink one with the chips inside of it.

so what she did then was she started opening the new white bag up again - slowly, carefully, meticulously. then she started to fold her crunchy white bag inside out, again with great care, for fear of tearing it apart i imagine. but only half way though, like you would do at home so that the bag could hang from your dustbin.

so armed now with her half inside-out bag she then turned to her old pink bag, the one with the chips inside of it. it was hanging on her blue umbrella which was in turn hanging on the handle of the bus seat in front of her. so she took her raggedy old bag and began opening it up (it was tied up you see, so that the bag of chips inside, which was already opened, would stay crispy. poor old lady. looked like that bag of chips would take her ten years to eat. but i digress).

so she's undoing the knot on her old pink bag, again with her deliberately cautious pace which by now, i must admit, was beginning to grow on me - slow, steady, firm, driven and strangely poignant all at the same time.

so the bag is undone. the chips threaten to spill out. they don't of course - steady and firm, remember? - and she takes the bag of chips out from the old, creased pink bag and transfers them to the pretty, white, half inside-out one.

a perfect fit.

so here i am, observer to the tale. enraptured by the strange, mundane, everyday 80 year-or-so-old lady with her potato chips and plastic bags and blue umbrella. could you blame me if i was already trying to make up an ending for this story so that it would end with the biggest payoff for my 15 minutes of viewing?

in one hand, her three-quarters eaten bag of potato chips, nestled snugly in an almost crease-free, clean, white and most importantly branded plastic bag; and in the other, the old, decrepit, ugly-looking plastic pink thing shaped peculiarly like it could hold something in it. hmmmm... what could happen next?

yet, a better ending i could never imagine, and therein lies the crux to which this tale is worth relating.

she takes her branded white inside-out bag (with potato chips snug as a pug), holds it like a hotdog in her right hand, and coaxes it into the dirty old pink one which she held in her left. she moves them around a bit so that they would sit just right (as by now i imagine you would see her doing without me having to mention it) before once again tying the pink bag up again.

(and this is the OTHER best bit to this story) the pink bag somehow didn't tie up as neatly as it did before, and there was a little hole through which those sneaky potato chips could peak out into reality.

and as i got up to alight, the bell ringing with its piercing presence demanding to be heard and to be heard NOW, conjuring the familiar beep of the ticketing machine with a flick of my wrist and a tap of my card, the doors opening under the influence of pneumatic pumps that hissed with an impatience that threatened to consume us all, i saw a little old lady dip into her stash of potato chips and take a bite.

you go girl.

read a good book?

2005-11-13T16:14:00.000+08:00

here's an excerpt of a book i recently read:

"But there's Violet (it'll be Harriet next, I thought, with dread and fascination) in sudden hot tears because on a crowded and sullen Northern Line she's just bought a stupid keyring from a deaf-and-dumb woman every other passenger in the carriage has stonily ignored. The tears because when the deaf-and-dumb woman (sixties, watery blue eyes, a furred mole above her top lip, the anorak and old butter smell of the poor) has smiled and said something incomprehensible, Violet, not wanting to engage beyond mechanical charity, has responded with a look of puzzlement and okay-I've-bought-your-shit-now-please-go-away-and-leave-me-alone. Then, the woman turning away with a look of threadbare weariness, Violet's realisation that the garbled phrase was 'God bless you'. It holds her for a moment, this translation, poised on the brink of a shocking grief. The woman's last look: You can't understand me because I can't talk properly; you don't want me to talk to you because you're afraid that I'm going to want something from you - money, love, time, your life; you just want me to leave you alone; that's all right, I know, but I was just saying thank you. All Vi's childhood rushes up into her heart - the kids they made fun of, the tiny cruelties, the horrible guilt - all her adult excesses too, and thus with her heart full she looks down at the mute's keyring. Its gimmick is a little sign language chart in clear plastic. On the reverse it says: Learn my language and we can be friends! And this, this more than anything hitherto pitches her over the edge and she finds herself in tears, publicly - not discreet weeping, either, but audible boo-hooing and visible, body-shaking sobs..."

- Lucifer, 'I, Lucifer', Glen Duncan

had a similar experience once. makes you feel really small.

and the lesson for today is...?

2005-11-12T00:41:00.000+08:00

my Mum (bless her) cannot, for the life of her believe, that "Who's Line Is It Anyway?" is completely spontaneous and made up on the spot.

not seen the show? for shame! but the long and the short of it is:

4 comedians are given (often insane) scenarios to play out e.g. "Colin and Ryan are two Latino doctors operating on a Chinese Salsa dancer when their European nurse, Wayne, who is madly in love with both doctors, comes in and demands a love confession out of them both."

and the comedians play out the scene. its totally unscripted and often times pure comedic gold. (those guys are geniuses i tell you! i mean, we're talking reeeeeeeeally smart guys (and girls)!) (whoa... parentheses in parentheses followed by parentheses in parentheses... (and i don't even know if i'm spelling it right!))

so anyway, i watch and laugh my head off and Mum sits on the couch reading her Chinese newspapers, furrowing her eyebrows and stroking her chin.

"(in Mandarin) Is it really that funny?"

i try to explain as best i can in halting (an understatement, i assure you) Mandarin and she pouts and shakes her head.

"The whole show? Impossible! Even the singing?"

"yah! its true! damn good, right?!"

"How can it be? They've planned it all before hand for sure!"

"but they let the audience throw in ideas!"

"Oh, my dear boy. They planted those "audience members" there. Don't be so gullible, please."

various forms of this conversation take place every morning she and i are in the living room, her with her newspapers and me giggling like a schoolgirl over milk and cereal (some of which jettison out through my nose into carpet oblivion).

she is just not (and can not) be convinced that any of it can be true. and so she sits there frowning and furrowing her brow through the entire half hour (too short... too damn short). Dad tries his hand at it, too, but she's a stubborn one that woman.

so i sit and enjoy the 22 minutes (urgh, damn commercials) and think to myself,

"man, she's missing soooo much! just coz she refuses to believe it."

and so we arrive at the point. yay.

dumb guy!

2005-11-11T23:59:00.000+08:00

yeesh.

i've been doing it a lot lately. stupid.

take the previous post for example.

"wow! look at me! i did something i never did before! i'm, so proud of me! i have to tell the whole world and smother myself in my own greatness (its a relative term, this 'greatness')!"

fuckin guy.

think you so smart.

what you think you know is a mere sliver of a shred of a speck (all S's leh) of something (there it is again!) a million others already know, have known or will know.

so get off of that nice little horsey (bitch!) before you get hurt or someone REALLY takes issue and kicks you off. its too tall for you, anyway.

think you so crever... you'll never get anywhere thinking like that (bakayahro!).

so there. i'm an arrogant pig. (took me a while, i know, but i got here.)

i'm going to hell for this

2005-11-03T12:41:00.000+08:00

i just wrote a blasphemous 6 page script.

i actually think its pretty original, which is cool. but i also think it'll never get made... or if it did it would never be screened... or if it did i would be labeled satanic and under satan's influence... or worst of all! i could be called juvenile and immature.! NnnnoooOooo!!1!!1

"oh, man, please... using the bible as reference for a story? grow up lah! hooooow many million people ever do it before? the only reason why no one does it now is coz its passe! you should be writing horror stories! now THOSE are in!"

yipes.

annnyway.

all i'm saying is that i'm kinda scared now. i like using the bible for reference and twisting its logic and in so doing inadvertantly insinuate that what Christians believe they know could all be just a big fat lie.

i tell myself that its just fiction. a story just like any other. "can use for debate". but a little part of me just can't help but wonder, "have i really been overcome by 'he who walks this earth'?"

pray for me.

p.s.:
here's a link to an interesting website. please DO NOT visit it if you feel you are unable to accept a broader world view (oh yeah, that's really gonna keep you away):
http://www.theosophy-nw.org/theosnw/world/christ/xt-ibel2.htm

the market economy is lined to the brim with assholes and cock-suckers.

2005-10-26T01:12:00.000+08:00

once again, the hired hand is shown his rightful place at the bottom of the economical pile.

i've never questioned my distaste of modern day economy, and everyday i grow more adamant of my decision. the more i participate, the more i place myself as a cog in the wheel, the more i don't regret never looking for a steady job.

sure, i have less to spend. sure, my future is only as far as my next meal. but by God i will eat those meals with a clear conscience and with a peace of mind.

yes, its true. i insinuate that "i am good" and i will even go as far as to say that i'm a nice guy. i've hurt people, this is true. and if any one of you are reading this now, you know... you KNOW, i'm too naive to have done it on purpose.

we feel sorry for the nice guys who finish last, if they ever finish at all, but look at the rich and famous, who've stepped on the toes of a million others to get to where they are, and envy them.

today i tried to stand up for my rights. and what i got was an earful about how i should "be like the lao jiao's" and take it in stride.

"Look at them, never say anything. They so cool. The most next time don't do job for this company loh. You make yourself paiseh only."

man. you keep swallowing and swallowing and wonder if people see just how big your belly's gotten from all the crap people force down your throat. but no, they see only the shit that comes out... and its all my fault.

back in 2000

2005-10-10T19:31:00.000+08:00

"I am 20 years old. And I have been for 3 months now. What have I done that could be worth noting? Worth the writing space on this book and the ink in this pen? If I think carefully, really carefully, I fear I may find nothing of such importance at all. But surely, you say, there must be SOMETHING? A birthday perhaps? A holiday in a foreign country, maybe? I too, of all people, would wish it true, of course. But alas, I need disappoint you, as well as myself, on this occasion, for there have been no such events.

I could be lying, of course, for you may feel that I do not owe it to anyone to reveal those issues which have most dearly influenced me. And you may be right, if not for the fact that should I choose to do so, I risk putting myself in such a position that would label me a simpleton or a fool, that even the slightest experience passed me by without my notice or afterthought. But this is the truth, and thus cannot be avoided. History, monotony, repetition - all is part of life. And in my life, a very big part indeed.

But the truth need not be told one way, the same way it has been told for centuries until now - with a pinch of salt, a hint of spice and an idiotically generous amount of enthusiasm - so that even the most mindlessly common household chore or activity would amazingly transform into a languish and glamorous earth-shattering event of magnificent proportions.

No, the truth can be told as it is, with no frills or decorations, without embarrassment or a fear that it might no impress, without worry that recipients of such factual information would care less. The truth is the truth as a rose is a rose is a rose, and keeping it that way would do nothing more than serve to enhance its value as it basks in its innate authenticity.

The truth is a rare and valuable thing, unintentionally made so through countless generations of, I believe, fear. Fear of rejection, fear of isolation, fear of mockery, fear of boredom. I for one have most definitely contributed to truth's exceedingly high value. And I am ashamed.

Could it be that the very reason why I have nothing important to relate is due to the fact that I have yet to be truthful to myself? Or could it be that I have been too truthful? In other words, scared. What are people's expectations of me? Would my experiences match up to those around me? what if they are unimpressed? What if they laugh? Wait. Now I contradict myself."

- bob, Dec 2000

fuck hell all!!11!11!!!1!!11!!!

2005-09-20T11:38:00.000+08:00

i am very, very disappointed at the general and wide-spread stupidity of Singaporeans.

i don't like to write about current affairs because very often, i really don't care. but this time... THIS TIME YOU HAVE STRUCK A NERVE, YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!1!1!!!2!!1

its to do with those guys who're being prosecuted for airing their "dangerous, unhealthy, seditious (wow, look! a special word just for this type of 'crime'! it must be really, really serious!), call-it-whatever-you-like" remarks in their blogs.

first of all... all you fucking cheebyes snooping around in other people's personal spaces and reading their posts for entertainment because its 'the in thing'... if you can't take the heat, get the fuck outta the strangers kitchen, fool!!

nobody asked you to go poking around in other people's business. its assholes like you who make walking around in my own house naked a fucking public offense!!!11!1!! you kah-nee-nah kapoh-face look inside my house for fuck1?!?! inside got model izzit?! inside got plasma tv for you to see izzit!?!?!??!?!?!?!!?

if you go poking your fuck-faces into places that you are unfamiliar with, or are likely to cause you harm (e.g. Singapore schools), then you better cheebye be prepared to face things you've never seen before, or encounter things beyond your narrow, nay... pin-hole sized point of view.

which leads me to my second point, you fucking know-it-all-wannabe-sit-in-my-chair-and-muse-about-the-intricasies-of-the-world-closet-psychologists... just because someone says "it" doesn't mean someone who listens to "it" is gonna believe "it" is true.

"like, duh, bob. EVERYONE knows that!"

yah. so what the fuck is all this shit about spreading social unrest when someone says, "All Singaporeans are dumbfucks!!!"

"oh look! he said "All Singaporeans are dumbfucks!!!"... it must be true!!!! he's causing social unrest by discriminating against his fellow man and turning Singaporeans against themselves!!! he must be prosecuted and put in jail!11!!11!!oNE!1

"but... not everything that everyone says is true... and not everyone is going to believe it...."

"you side with him1?!?!11?!?! you racist sympathizer!!11! next thing you know, you're going to say that everyone in Singapore watch porno before!!11$1@ you should be prosecuted, too!!"

"but... i read it... and i don't think Singaporeans are dumbfucks... i like Singaporeans! what about you? do you think Singaporeans are dumbfucks after reading the post?"

"of course i don't, lah! but other people are different!!! they will believe anything !!"

yay, great. twenty thousand points for you, holier-than-thou ass.

the point is... its a point of view. it is MY opinion. so what if I am a racist fucker. so what if I DON'T LIKE INDIANS BECAUSE THEY SMELL FUNNY. so what if I DON'T LIKE MALAYS BECAUSE THEY ALWAYS HANG OUT AT VOID DECKS PLAYING GUITAR. so what if I DON'T LIKE CHINESE BECAUSE THEY ARE CUNNING AND MERCILESS IN THEIR PURSUIT FOR WEALTH.

"people will read these statements and internalize them."

or sure... everyone in Singapore is a brainless, mindless, idiot who cannot think for themselves and absorbs everything like a sponge without asking whether its true or false, right or wrong, or if it clashes with their own belief systems.

wow! no wonder i like jolly shandy so much! they advertise on tv that its a good drink... so it really must be!! and look! only supermodels drink calsberg! wow! it means i am a supermodel, too!! and look at the government propaganda film! friends from all four races are smiling and patting each other on the back!! they must really love each other and it must mean i have friends from all four races!! yay! i am sooooooo happy!!

do you agree with me? do you disagree? let's have a discussion. or alternatively you can throw my ass in jail, prosecute me and pat yourself on the back thinking you've done a great service to the nation by silencing a single individual who's dumb enough to put his life on the line by expressing a point of view which may or may not be true and which may or may not be baseless, and at the same time sending the message to everyone else in the world that being different and having your own opinions is wrong, dangerous and undesirable. you are reaffirming the children in Singapore what they've been told for years, "behave yourself or i call the police come and catch you!"

fuck this country.

you're it!

2005-09-19T13:31:00.000+08:00

hey, whaddya know? i've been tagged.

hello Jean.

i'm not sure what i'm supposed to do (the original's in Mandarin so i might have translated it wrong) but i believe its something to do with personal traits or character quirks... something like that... so i'm supposed to list 5 of them things then burden 5 other people with this chain mail in disguise.

and who am i to give up a chance to talk about myself?

-"i'm only happy when it rains"
i woke up once in the middle of the night and sat there for 15 minutes just listening and looking at the rain fall.
when i was little i tried to engage in a little father-son time. so i tolds him i said, "you know, i dunno why but i kinda like it when it rains (the typhoon kind, where you could potentially stick out your hand and not see it)... just have this nice feeling about it."
and he saids, "well, when it rains its cooler and there's also the prospect of staying at home. studies have also shown that the low frequency drone of the rain hitting the ground is somehow soothing to the human ear, like the call of whales."
well, there's a bit of logic and science appropriately displaced. very nice, dad. very romantic.

-Ore wa Samurai desho!
i like to pretend i'm a samurai! i look into the mirror and pretend to swing my invisible samurai sword as my luscious locks flail rhythmically to the echoes of my japan-glish musings.

"shin ne da! ba ke mo no!!!"

it's a thing born from the fact that i talk to myself... incessantly. and i wasn't even aware it was a weird thing to do until JC (17-18 for those of you not under an European-type education system)
was just out one day with a bunch of friends and i, in my natural way, started saying something to no one in particular.

girl from 3 feet away, "ewwww, bob... you talk to yourself?"

"yah... (as in, "yah duh, doesn't everybody?")"

"that's so gross!!!"

needless to say i don't talk to myself to her anymore!

-'but i like staying at home...'
ah, dorothy. if you only knew how big a fan i am.
and what's wrong with that? hmmmmmmm? you like to go disco and dance and drink and smoke, i like to stay at home watch tv and play computer games, cannot meh?
what's so nerdy or loser-ish about that? sure, fine, thats one of the reasons why i have no girlfriend... but there are hundreds of other reasons why that is... long hair, BO, berms and t-shirt for every occasion...
i don't like crowds, i don't like "mingling" and i sure as hell don't like, "hey, bob, come here! i've got someone i want you to meet! you're sure to like her! *winkwink*."
thank you. but please stop.

-i like to look up words in the dictionary
yah. might be the smell of my ten (plus) year old Oxford (it says "New Edition" on the cover so its probably not that bad).
am consistently poor at spelling, especially stuff with 'double-doubles' e.g. "tom(m)orrow", stuff with 'X's, 'C's and 'S's, e.g. "ex(c)ercise" and latin, hebrew, other country words e.g. "bourgeoisie"
and mandarin dictionaries... hmm... i guess i kinda like it, too. flipping through all those pages... something about the flipping...

-"gee, uncle scrooge..."
i stinge on everything. i tell myself "today, i am going to the store to buy this thing!!" but when i get there i check the price, i walk around in circles, get stared at by the shopkeeper and leave empty-handed.
i even have this illusion that i won't stinge when it comes to food. i like to tell myself that money spent on the important things in life (like food), is money well and deservedly spent... but no... i avoid eating out as much as possible... heck, i don't eat when i'm out alone, period.
not trying to lose weight. i just don't like to spend.

-absolutely hate it when people throw parties for me
please don't. i don't deserve it, i won't appreciate it and i won't return the favor. i don't remember your birthday, nor do i celebrate any kind of holiday. don't send me instant messages or sms or email or snail mail or whatever. if it costs money... don't.
at the very least, know that it makes me feel guilty.

well, there you go - five (or was that six?) things you didn't need to know about bob. there's obviously a ton more but i'm thinking you REALLY don't need (read:want) to know.

as for passing this on... who's reading this space again?

god bless you, everyone

2005-09-12T00:56:00.000+08:00

first, there was dinner with the family (and friend).

friends came over uninvited, brought a cake and sang me a birthday song.

i received the odd phone call from people i haven't met in ages:

"just wishing you a Happy Birthday! have a good one!"

smses beeped in on occasion.

"oh, great... 365 days a year and you message me to work on my birthday..."

but low and behold out pops a friendly name:

"Wishing you all the best on your special day!"

IMs were left flashing on my tool bar the last couple days, all with birthday wishes.

was brought to Malaysia for some "local food"... best wanton mee i've had in ages.

i was content to stay at home and play video games, but no... you guys had to come over with your surprise cake and drag me out to another country and call me out of the blue with inane messages and well wishes...

thank you all.

god knows i don't deserve the love and care you've shown me, and you all know even better i wouldn't have done it for you...

thank you.

yay

2005-09-09T00:00:00.000+08:00

happy birthday to me
happy birthday to me
happy birthday to bobby (it rhymes)
happy birthday to me