The day when Bob came in to replace Baldrick as butler to Edmund...
Edmund: Well, Bob, welcome on board. Sorry Baldrick, any reason why you are still here?
Baldrick: Euh .. I've got nowhere to go, my lord.
Edmund: O surely you will be allowed to starve to death in one of the royal parks.
Baldrick: I've been in your service since I was two and a half, my lord.
Edmund: Well that is the why I am so utterly sick of the sight of you.
Baldrick: Couldn't I just stay here and do the same job but for no wages?
Edmund: Well, you know where you will have to live.
Baldrick: In the gutter.
Baldrick: Yes.
Edmund: And you'll have to work a bit harder too.
Baldrick: Of course, my lord.
Edmund: All right. Go and get Bob's stuff in and chuck your filthy muck out into the street.
Baldrick: God bless you, sweet master.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Mills and Boon
Haha....
Finally saw a book from the legendary publisher in Popular Bookstore today...
So saucy that it's dripping juice. =)
Finally saw a book from the legendary publisher in Popular Bookstore today...
So saucy that it's dripping juice. =)
Friday, February 25, 2005
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Wierd Dream
Being a tourist in your dream to someplace in Germany has it's cons (the horrors!) and pros (it's not real. Phew.)
On boisterously entering a german restaurant filled with happy and boisterous german customers, our order of german sausages brought forth an army of Einsatzgruppen who were not so happy at our calling their wursts as sausages.
I was dragged onto the 2nd storey of a double-decked roofless bus to be sent somewhere, but I managed to do some Jackie Chan stunts and jumped onto a nearby car (driven by a naked German [guy... sigh.] who happened to be sunbathing (?) )
I hid in a corner of the car (god knows how) and dropped myself off to a snowy atmosphere resembling a scene from 'The Little Matchstick Girl', to stare into a kitchen filled with buxomy female chefs preparing german wurst. A few of them saw me in the harsh elements and came out to give me a long chain of german wurst (??).
Then I woke up hungry.
I think I have been reading too much Blackadder.
On boisterously entering a german restaurant filled with happy and boisterous german customers, our order of german sausages brought forth an army of Einsatzgruppen who were not so happy at our calling their wursts as sausages.
I was dragged onto the 2nd storey of a double-decked roofless bus to be sent somewhere, but I managed to do some Jackie Chan stunts and jumped onto a nearby car (driven by a naked German [guy... sigh.] who happened to be sunbathing (?) )
I hid in a corner of the car (god knows how) and dropped myself off to a snowy atmosphere resembling a scene from 'The Little Matchstick Girl', to stare into a kitchen filled with buxomy female chefs preparing german wurst. A few of them saw me in the harsh elements and came out to give me a long chain of german wurst (??).
Then I woke up hungry.
I think I have been reading too much Blackadder.
Rants and arghs.
I go into a nonchalent frenzy whenever I see stockpiles of unread blog subscriptions inside Bloglines.
39 entries under DP-Review,
92 '' under ExtremeTech,
128 '' under PC Magazine.
This is going to take me some time.
-------
Suffered from heartburn yesterday, after attempting my usual circuit at night, despite having the most intense curry (Muthu's!) dinner @ Eu's house. In retrospection, this Chinese New Year period (together with my Bro's marriage events) made foie gras of my liver, and this does not bode well... More exercise is in order.
Speaking of exercise, I think I'm comfortable enough to up the ante.
39 entries under DP-Review,
92 '' under ExtremeTech,
128 '' under PC Magazine.
This is going to take me some time.
-------
Suffered from heartburn yesterday, after attempting my usual circuit at night, despite having the most intense curry (Muthu's!) dinner @ Eu's house. In retrospection, this Chinese New Year period (together with my Bro's marriage events) made foie gras of my liver, and this does not bode well... More exercise is in order.
Speaking of exercise, I think I'm comfortable enough to up the ante.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Birthdays
are days when you get lavished upon when you were young, and dread when you get older.
I am not totally into birthdays, not even my own.
Just as Prof. Sun Teck commented about V-day when I approached him to buy flowers for his wife, 'I don't need a day to show attention to someone who's special to me. I show it in what I do everyday.'
Likewise, if I am important to anyone, I don't need a day to prove how important I am to anyone. Or do I?
Now there seems to be a fallacy in my thinking as well as Sun Teck's, but the reasons do not run parallel to each other.
Girls do like to be serenaded and showered with presents once in a while (I think), never mind how you treat them everyday. It keeps the spice in life, and all I can think of Sun Teck is that he's too miserly/unromantic to be moved into actions. Maybe he's dulled by the years past, and there's really no need for sparks in his marriage (is this possible?), and what's left of his marriage is a partnership too eroded to be refreshing, yet too entrenched to be broken off. Pity to it if that's the case, but who am I to say that this won't happen to me? I am, after all, an uninteresting bloke merely trying to survive, and not living a terribly vibrant life.
And why don't birthdays matter to me? Perhaps it's my own bleak outlook on life. Perhaps I am afraid to find out how insignificant I am to everyone else, that there's no one who loves me enough to celebrate my living. Frank's a joker well-liked, but never loved.
Ok, this is getting too dark and depressing. I shall curtly end it here, and enjoy the serenity the night bestows upon NUS.
I am not totally into birthdays, not even my own.
Just as Prof. Sun Teck commented about V-day when I approached him to buy flowers for his wife, 'I don't need a day to show attention to someone who's special to me. I show it in what I do everyday.'
Likewise, if I am important to anyone, I don't need a day to prove how important I am to anyone. Or do I?
Now there seems to be a fallacy in my thinking as well as Sun Teck's, but the reasons do not run parallel to each other.
Girls do like to be serenaded and showered with presents once in a while (I think), never mind how you treat them everyday. It keeps the spice in life, and all I can think of Sun Teck is that he's too miserly/unromantic to be moved into actions. Maybe he's dulled by the years past, and there's really no need for sparks in his marriage (is this possible?), and what's left of his marriage is a partnership too eroded to be refreshing, yet too entrenched to be broken off. Pity to it if that's the case, but who am I to say that this won't happen to me? I am, after all, an uninteresting bloke merely trying to survive, and not living a terribly vibrant life.
And why don't birthdays matter to me? Perhaps it's my own bleak outlook on life. Perhaps I am afraid to find out how insignificant I am to everyone else, that there's no one who loves me enough to celebrate my living. Frank's a joker well-liked, but never loved.
Ok, this is getting too dark and depressing. I shall curtly end it here, and enjoy the serenity the night bestows upon NUS.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Everyone loves Frankie Foo~~~!
Not that I am terribly interested to update everyone on how refreshingly exciting my life has been these few days, but incessant pressing by a bevy of ardent Frank-fans has caused me much annoyance that I am compelled to blog, in attempt to satisfy their insatiable appetite for more updates on the greatly cheesed off (but nevertheless, popular) Frank.
After much efforts in my first attempt at generating income to uplift my station in life by selling roses on V-day, things never seem to stop coming my way. Ah well, such is the making of a great man...
FRANK's GREAT EXPANSIONISTIC POLICY (INVOLVING THE LONG OVERDUE MOVING [DRIVING] OUT OF HIS ELDER BROTHER)
It's about time for Frank's Elder Brother to make space for Frank's Great Expansionistic Policy (hereforth known as GEP) for a Greater Co-prosperity Sphere in the house. Recently (and finally!) he's wisened up to hasten his marriage to Baoli. Already, the Union of Siblings has enqueued (physically and mentally) all his belongings for relocation to his new house in Dover, and cast dices for the forthcoming properties. The wardrobe is mine in expectations. Subtle hints of 'When are you going to move all your stuff to your new house??!?' does have effects on Frank's Elder Brother, never mind his resistance.
Engagement in church was last Sunday, and I had to play mentos-distributor-cum-doorman-cum-photographer during the ceremony. Now, I am a prodigy photographer, and I have done my best for my beloved brother. I do admire all my artistically blurred shots in the dimly lit ceremonial hall, but it's a pity not all can appreciate such artsy fartsy shots. The indignity Frank suffers from his solitude in this highest realm of artistry. Frank suffered again, from indigestion, from the ala carte lunch of buffet proportions after the ceremony.
ROM was on the following day on Monday, and once again, my skills as photographer was called upon, but not (never) rewarded enough. My expertise at artistically blurred shots was once again showing at its peak - and once again, such flawless shots were condemned by the masses. What fun is there in cliche shots of perfection? The essence of natural imperfection of Life is drained away, leaving nothing more than a utopic make-believe of the self-deceiving mind. Frank suffered again (indigestion, again) from a lunch buffet at Hotel Phoenix after the ceremony.
There's going to be a sampling of dishes on Thursday night for the coming wedding dinner at Marriot, and once again, Frank's palatte is going to be tarnished by mundane food. Tsk tsk tsk. Woe upon me.
ISLAND LIFE @ SENTOSA
I embraced the bloody hot weather in Singapore with a swim and a tan on Saturday in the company of TCWITB @ Tanjong Beach. It's a shame that the desperateForFrank babes kept a distance away from me due to the unwanted presence of TCWITB.
After the sun gave up on bronzing us, we headed for Cineleisure for the showing of A Very Long Engagement (casting Audrey Tautou!). It was, indeed, a very long engagement, in both the marital and military sense. Highly recommended for the artistically inclined who has the patience and appetite for the finer things in Life. If you don't, you will find it a thoroughly confusing and boring show deserving your great acclaimation, in the name of keeping up appearances per se.
UPCOMING EVENTS::
1) Driving lessons have started.
2) Catching up of homework is to be started at the earliest possible convenience to avoid periods of extreme stress and discomfort in the near future.
3) Visitation to Eu's place tomorrow.
4) Autograph session with Frank's ardent fans (namely he, him, and himself) on Friday.
After much efforts in my first attempt at generating income to uplift my station in life by selling roses on V-day, things never seem to stop coming my way. Ah well, such is the making of a great man...
FRANK's GREAT EXPANSIONISTIC POLICY (INVOLVING THE LONG OVERDUE MOVING [DRIVING] OUT OF HIS ELDER BROTHER)
It's about time for Frank's Elder Brother to make space for Frank's Great Expansionistic Policy (hereforth known as GEP) for a Greater Co-prosperity Sphere in the house. Recently (and finally!) he's wisened up to hasten his marriage to Baoli. Already, the Union of Siblings has enqueued (physically and mentally) all his belongings for relocation to his new house in Dover, and cast dices for the forthcoming properties. The wardrobe is mine in expectations. Subtle hints of 'When are you going to move all your stuff to your new house??!?' does have effects on Frank's Elder Brother, never mind his resistance.
Engagement in church was last Sunday, and I had to play mentos-distributor-cum-doorman-cum-photographer during the ceremony. Now, I am a prodigy photographer, and I have done my best for my beloved brother. I do admire all my artistically blurred shots in the dimly lit ceremonial hall, but it's a pity not all can appreciate such artsy fartsy shots. The indignity Frank suffers from his solitude in this highest realm of artistry. Frank suffered again, from indigestion, from the ala carte lunch of buffet proportions after the ceremony.
ROM was on the following day on Monday, and once again, my skills as photographer was called upon, but not (never) rewarded enough. My expertise at artistically blurred shots was once again showing at its peak - and once again, such flawless shots were condemned by the masses. What fun is there in cliche shots of perfection? The essence of natural imperfection of Life is drained away, leaving nothing more than a utopic make-believe of the self-deceiving mind. Frank suffered again (indigestion, again) from a lunch buffet at Hotel Phoenix after the ceremony.
There's going to be a sampling of dishes on Thursday night for the coming wedding dinner at Marriot, and once again, Frank's palatte is going to be tarnished by mundane food. Tsk tsk tsk. Woe upon me.
ISLAND LIFE @ SENTOSA
I embraced the bloody hot weather in Singapore with a swim and a tan on Saturday in the company of TCWITB @ Tanjong Beach. It's a shame that the desperateForFrank babes kept a distance away from me due to the unwanted presence of TCWITB.
After the sun gave up on bronzing us, we headed for Cineleisure for the showing of A Very Long Engagement (casting Audrey Tautou!). It was, indeed, a very long engagement, in both the marital and military sense. Highly recommended for the artistically inclined who has the patience and appetite for the finer things in Life. If you don't, you will find it a thoroughly confusing and boring show deserving your great acclaimation, in the name of keeping up appearances per se.
UPCOMING EVENTS::
1) Driving lessons have started.
2) Catching up of homework is to be started at the earliest possible convenience to avoid periods of extreme stress and discomfort in the near future.
3) Visitation to Eu's place tomorrow.
4) Autograph session with Frank's ardent fans (namely he, him, and himself) on Friday.
Friday, February 18, 2005
Spitoon Bisque - by Eric
Ingredients:
1 pound of well-aged fish. Preferably raided from the fish market waste bin. (Whole fish are better, since they provide for a complete taste)
6 eggs in their shell
2 cups water
Salt and pepper
Ketchup
If you are on a diet, add 10 squares of laxative chocolate
Bread crumbs, if you can find any. (Pigeon droppings substitute nicely if no crumbs are available)
8 oz. can of beans
A few leaves of mint, so you can have fresh breath if you taste during the cooking
Method:
In a rather large cooking pot, put the fish and water. Heat until water boils, then reduce heat to "medium". Throw eggs in one at a time, and watch the water splash. Once the eggs yolks start to coagulate remove it from the heat. Now you must turn this fine stew into a fine soup-like paste, so a blender would be useful here. Of course, if you are like me, you are poor but you have good teeth, you can grind it yourself by chewing and spitting out into a large bowl. Add ketchup, salt and pepper as you see fit.
Once complete; chew on the mint leaves, so that none will be the wiser.
Serve as a hot entree.
1 pound of well-aged fish. Preferably raided from the fish market waste bin. (Whole fish are better, since they provide for a complete taste)
6 eggs in their shell
2 cups water
Salt and pepper
Ketchup
If you are on a diet, add 10 squares of laxative chocolate
Bread crumbs, if you can find any. (Pigeon droppings substitute nicely if no crumbs are available)
8 oz. can of beans
A few leaves of mint, so you can have fresh breath if you taste during the cooking
Method:
In a rather large cooking pot, put the fish and water. Heat until water boils, then reduce heat to "medium". Throw eggs in one at a time, and watch the water splash. Once the eggs yolks start to coagulate remove it from the heat. Now you must turn this fine stew into a fine soup-like paste, so a blender would be useful here. Of course, if you are like me, you are poor but you have good teeth, you can grind it yourself by chewing and spitting out into a large bowl. Add ketchup, salt and pepper as you see fit.
Once complete; chew on the mint leaves, so that none will be the wiser.
Serve as a hot entree.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
I've got something against lady drivers
and that something has to do with their driving. They're doing anything but driving.
Now we've all received emails with picture attachments showing some ladies doing spectacular stunts with their extraordinary cars, ranging from driving off the cliff while on the phone, to driving into a wall straight on for whatever reason that continues to elude the general public, but I've personally done some back-of-the-mind counting on my personal encounters with them dangerous senioritas, and they stand up to a pretty good curve distinctively different from a normal distribution.
There's a few of them who stopped dead in the middle of a cross junction when the red lights are up (and some actually reversed back to the box); some who pay immense attention to what's-for-lunch and have to be loudly reminded to drive off by forgiving drivers behind; some who park one car in one-and-half lots; and one most memorable lady that drove against the flow of traffic (albeit on a lonesome road). Most times that I witness some anomaly with traffic flows on the street, it naturally comes to my mind to check if it's a guy or lady driver. Most times, I stand correct.
I don't have much against ladies driving if they can drive well, really. It's just that there are more ladies out there who spoil the reputation of the whole flock by reckless acts of selfishness (or pure denseness in the brain). I suspect it's a psycho-motor issue, but I have no evidence to back that up.
But I do know some lady drivers that can drive well, so there's hope for all of us. We do need ladies to fetch their own shopping bags/grocery/children, to relieve the workload of their other halves.
Now we've all received emails with picture attachments showing some ladies doing spectacular stunts with their extraordinary cars, ranging from driving off the cliff while on the phone, to driving into a wall straight on for whatever reason that continues to elude the general public, but I've personally done some back-of-the-mind counting on my personal encounters with them dangerous senioritas, and they stand up to a pretty good curve distinctively different from a normal distribution.
There's a few of them who stopped dead in the middle of a cross junction when the red lights are up (and some actually reversed back to the box); some who pay immense attention to what's-for-lunch and have to be loudly reminded to drive off by forgiving drivers behind; some who park one car in one-and-half lots; and one most memorable lady that drove against the flow of traffic (albeit on a lonesome road). Most times that I witness some anomaly with traffic flows on the street, it naturally comes to my mind to check if it's a guy or lady driver. Most times, I stand correct.
I don't have much against ladies driving if they can drive well, really. It's just that there are more ladies out there who spoil the reputation of the whole flock by reckless acts of selfishness (or pure denseness in the brain). I suspect it's a psycho-motor issue, but I have no evidence to back that up.
But I do know some lady drivers that can drive well, so there's hope for all of us. We do need ladies to fetch their own shopping bags/grocery/children, to relieve the workload of their other halves.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
V-day
And it's finally over. Yay.
Back to studies, with a lot of 'bad debt' that I'm not quite sure I can writeoff. Lalala..
Back to studies, with a lot of 'bad debt' that I'm not quite sure I can writeoff. Lalala..
Friday, February 11, 2005
Chinese New Year
CNY this time round is a period of great discovery, of relatives that have remained relatively elusive to me for the past decade or so. I am startled by the sheer numbers of primary associations that existed for me in this wonderful primate kingdom that I belong to.
Really, I knew that I was an uncle long before this, but an uncle to so many nieces and nephews, some even older than me? I would be much ashamed at collecting ang baos from them (but no doubt I will), if they ever get married before me. Now this is truthfully a very possible scenario, to which I bear certain feelings of ambivalence.
And I’ve not started on the cousins that existed without my permission or knowledge. There is a certain criminal property in either me not knowing their existence, or their very existence itself, and I am tempted to think in the manner of the latter, for I think myself faultlessly righteous most of the time. Nevertheless, I think it might be a good thing to rekindle whatever sparks possible between us, as seen from the many problems and dilemmas that Chris encountered on accounting for guests for his wedding dinner.
And oh , how I love the old aunts who brings up certain thought of familiarity that has dulled in me over the years. They marvel at my coming over for lunch, like I’ve not seen them for many many many years, which was quite to the letter of truth that way. They proposed monuments erected in memory of me if I had not had the time to come for this new year’s lunch. But what guffaws and blushes they break into, when I wheedled them with inaccurate wild guesses on their age, the guesses being conservatively discounted for the sake of Chinese New Year. Never failed to coax them into giving me attention generously. I am, after all, an Auntie-killer. ;)
Saw Yus on the bus while coming home and we had dinner and a casual walk-and-talk together. He’s going away for studies soon (15th) and he admits he’s rather a wussy where emotional farewells are concerned. I guess everyone’s a bit of that, but with enough farewells and heartbreaks, I’m sure our hearts will be callused enough to not beat so erratically. Always look to the future, and the past will not have a hold on you. Or so they say.
We had a meaningless seating at the MRT station, marveling at the different people living their different lives that moves parallel to ours: the disgruntled uncles/aunties grimacing and lamenting about a life meaningless spent on unrequited loved ones (children or spouse); the scantily clad ah lians looking for a future with their ah bengs on white horses; the seductively dressed women determined to make a killing out of (and of) their future husbands (synonymous with prey in this context); the intellectual-looking gentleman who has no idea of what’s going on in the minds of their Singaporean counterparts mentioned previously; the repulsive-looking Casanova-wannabes; the bespectacled girls who have long declared their contempt to the ideas of finding true love in this shallow society; old gits ogling at young girls who are trying to declare some fashion statements for the new year; normal-looking people living their normal lives with normally loved ones; and young loveless individuals seated at MRTs trying to get others’ perspectives of life itself, rather then spend time creating a new perspective out of their sorry lives.
Much ado about nothings.
A piano recital of Desperado mellowed me on my speakers tonight, and I ask myself the same question that I’ve asked myself for many moons, and will ask for many moons to come.
Really, I knew that I was an uncle long before this, but an uncle to so many nieces and nephews, some even older than me? I would be much ashamed at collecting ang baos from them (but no doubt I will), if they ever get married before me. Now this is truthfully a very possible scenario, to which I bear certain feelings of ambivalence.
And I’ve not started on the cousins that existed without my permission or knowledge. There is a certain criminal property in either me not knowing their existence, or their very existence itself, and I am tempted to think in the manner of the latter, for I think myself faultlessly righteous most of the time. Nevertheless, I think it might be a good thing to rekindle whatever sparks possible between us, as seen from the many problems and dilemmas that Chris encountered on accounting for guests for his wedding dinner.
And oh , how I love the old aunts who brings up certain thought of familiarity that has dulled in me over the years. They marvel at my coming over for lunch, like I’ve not seen them for many many many years, which was quite to the letter of truth that way. They proposed monuments erected in memory of me if I had not had the time to come for this new year’s lunch. But what guffaws and blushes they break into, when I wheedled them with inaccurate wild guesses on their age, the guesses being conservatively discounted for the sake of Chinese New Year. Never failed to coax them into giving me attention generously. I am, after all, an Auntie-killer. ;)
Saw Yus on the bus while coming home and we had dinner and a casual walk-and-talk together. He’s going away for studies soon (15th) and he admits he’s rather a wussy where emotional farewells are concerned. I guess everyone’s a bit of that, but with enough farewells and heartbreaks, I’m sure our hearts will be callused enough to not beat so erratically. Always look to the future, and the past will not have a hold on you. Or so they say.
We had a meaningless seating at the MRT station, marveling at the different people living their different lives that moves parallel to ours: the disgruntled uncles/aunties grimacing and lamenting about a life meaningless spent on unrequited loved ones (children or spouse); the scantily clad ah lians looking for a future with their ah bengs on white horses; the seductively dressed women determined to make a killing out of (and of) their future husbands (synonymous with prey in this context); the intellectual-looking gentleman who has no idea of what’s going on in the minds of their Singaporean counterparts mentioned previously; the repulsive-looking Casanova-wannabes; the bespectacled girls who have long declared their contempt to the ideas of finding true love in this shallow society; old gits ogling at young girls who are trying to declare some fashion statements for the new year; normal-looking people living their normal lives with normally loved ones; and young loveless individuals seated at MRTs trying to get others’ perspectives of life itself, rather then spend time creating a new perspective out of their sorry lives.
Much ado about nothings.
A piano recital of Desperado mellowed me on my speakers tonight, and I ask myself the same question that I’ve asked myself for many moons, and will ask for many moons to come.
Ulysses
To love at all is to be vulnerable.
Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly be broken.
If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even an animal.
Wrap it carefully around with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.
The only place outside heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers of love is hell.
Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly be broken.
If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even an animal.
Wrap it carefully around with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.
The only place outside heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers of love is hell.
Edmund
Fear me. Fear me a lot.
I have come into possession of a great artifact, cursedly sworn upon by many to create massive destruction, its vileness matched only by a spontaneous rendition of La Vie En Rose by the Teletubbies (not one, but all of the teletubbies!)
I am talking about the book titled Black Adder: The Whole Damn Dynasty. It's literally dripping with sarcastic rebutts and abusive humour.
Challenge me, and face unparalleled witty repartee. I will make you wish you never existed.
Ok, I can't think of anythingcynical and deadly to rebuke you with now, but once I've mastered the mean language used by the great Edmund against Percy and his Whatshisname sidekick, I will make you wish you can crawl back into your mother's womb and turn back to the pre-lifeform substance that you once were.
Fear me.
I have come into possession of a great artifact, cursedly sworn upon by many to create massive destruction, its vileness matched only by a spontaneous rendition of La Vie En Rose by the Teletubbies (not one, but all of the teletubbies!)
I am talking about the book titled Black Adder: The Whole Damn Dynasty. It's literally dripping with sarcastic rebutts and abusive humour.
Challenge me, and face unparalleled witty repartee. I will make you wish you never existed.
Ok, I can't think of anythingcynical and deadly to rebuke you with now, but once I've mastered the mean language used by the great Edmund against Percy and his Whatshisname sidekick, I will make you wish you can crawl back into your mother's womb and turn back to the pre-lifeform substance that you once were.
Fear me.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
I play a game of Frogger
whenever I cross an overhead bridge.
It's a really fun game to play by yourself (when none of your friends are with you to think you insane), where you try to avoid any vehicles coming directly towards and below you.
It's really quite a challenge to escape unscathe on an expressway, really. I can only manage it during the wee hours of the night, or the early hours of the morning - when ants scurry in attempts to cross the great divide to see their relatives on the distant side of the continent.
It's a really fun game to play by yourself (when none of your friends are with you to think you insane), where you try to avoid any vehicles coming directly towards and below you.
It's really quite a challenge to escape unscathe on an expressway, really. I can only manage it during the wee hours of the night, or the early hours of the morning - when ants scurry in attempts to cross the great divide to see their relatives on the distant side of the continent.
Roses Marketing. Buy from me. Me me me.
Hello,
The NUS Entrepreneurship Society is currently selling roses for Valentine's Day to raise funds for future events. We are currently undercutting the market (even the NUS market) by a large margin (around 50%), and are happy to offer you roses at these INSANE prices for pre-orders.
We compare outside florist prices, NUS clubs prices, and our prices here.
Qty| Outside| NUS | Our price!
1 9 5 4 (wrapped) == Min 2 pcs
2 (non-wrapped) == Min 5 pcs
3 27 15 12
6 50 30 24
9 70 37 30
12 90 49 39
24 120 80 66
100 400 200 200
Attached are our ACTUAL SAMPLES for your choosings. We offer roses in white, red, pink and champagne color for your choice. Please note that hand bouquets are only available for 6 roses and up. Single stalks are popular for giving to friends and colleagues to show concern and appreciation.
We also have teddy bears and rocher bouquets for sale.
Check them out at our website listed below.
Prices do not include delivery fees. Delivery within NUS is 5 dollars. Delivery outside NUS is on a case by case basis (around 15 dollars for each location, regardless of order size).
Collection centre is at NUS Central Library on Valentine’s day (14th FEB)
between 10am to2pm.
Pre-order ends on the 8th, but you can still find us at NUS Central Library on 14th Feb,
though our prices will be slightly higher (but still VERY affordable).
For pre-order via email, drop us an email @ roses@nes.org.sg detailing your
1)Name
2)contact no,
3)quantity
4)type of flower
5)design wanted (according to picture names)
6)if delivery, state location, receiver, and preferred time range to send.
We will call/email you to confirm the order.
Please feel free to call/sms Frank @ 93620231, or Chris @ 98565795 for queries or pre-orders. You can also direct your questions to roses@nes.org.sg
You can find out more from our website @ www.nes.org.sg, or www.nexorion.com/roses.htm .
We at NES wish you a happy Valentine Day!
PS: Do forward this mail to your friends that they may enjoy this special offer as well. They’ll love you for it!
Saturday, February 05, 2005
Table Tennis
It can hardly be pleasurable to play table tennis and badminton in a PGP hall where there's a non-cooperative air-conditioning system in charge of maintaining comfort levels. But that's what we did, and our abiddance in fellowship-mannered suffering did us good to enjoy ourselves not a bit less, but rather more. I'm much obliged and charmed.
Eu plays a mean hand at table tennis, what with all his strategic ball landings which kept me rather occupied and annoyed. But it's all in a good way, for he's a worthy challenge. I have yet to learn how to do a smashing good smash. But once I do, you (Eu) better watch out. =P
I was almost sure that my order for dinner bore a striking resemblance (where naming conventions and my personal understanding [which did not do me very much good] goes) to something I've been yearning for since leaving Taiwan many moons ago, but was refuted the chance to be gleeful. It turned out quite different from my idealistic pining, and I figured out that it's really never possible for me to get back the same feelings of that distinctive Taiwanese dish, unless I am back in Taiwan eating at that same stall, that same dish, from the old familiar chipped blue porcelain bowl. And even if that's the case, my expectations may prove us an unworthy combination already, and pleasure will evade us still. I am now in the opinion of leaving it as the beautiful memory it is now, instead of spoiling it with attempts to savour those moments again.
I slurp already.
And this is all on top of a gradually clearing up view of great trouble ahead. Oh bother.
Eu plays a mean hand at table tennis, what with all his strategic ball landings which kept me rather occupied and annoyed. But it's all in a good way, for he's a worthy challenge. I have yet to learn how to do a smashing good smash. But once I do, you (Eu) better watch out. =P
I was almost sure that my order for dinner bore a striking resemblance (where naming conventions and my personal understanding [which did not do me very much good] goes) to something I've been yearning for since leaving Taiwan many moons ago, but was refuted the chance to be gleeful. It turned out quite different from my idealistic pining, and I figured out that it's really never possible for me to get back the same feelings of that distinctive Taiwanese dish, unless I am back in Taiwan eating at that same stall, that same dish, from the old familiar chipped blue porcelain bowl. And even if that's the case, my expectations may prove us an unworthy combination already, and pleasure will evade us still. I am now in the opinion of leaving it as the beautiful memory it is now, instead of spoiling it with attempts to savour those moments again.
I slurp already.
And this is all on top of a gradually clearing up view of great trouble ahead. Oh bother.
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Bz bz bz
Time flies when you are busy doing something interesting in your life, and suddenly it seems to me that I am slacking a lot (and I don't wanna comment on the extent) in my studies, but I am not caring as much as I would prefer myself to be.
It's almost possessive, this feeling, this exhilaration, these thoughts. It's not something big, but at least it's my first baby.
There are fears, lots of them, as the big day approaches. And lots of misses that I don't want to think about. But I do hope everything works out well.
It's almost possessive, this feeling, this exhilaration, these thoughts. It's not something big, but at least it's my first baby.
There are fears, lots of them, as the big day approaches. And lots of misses that I don't want to think about. But I do hope everything works out well.
Lone rose in my hand
I hold a lone rose in my hand, do you not see?
It's for you,
my Love, my precious -
my precious Love
I walk a lonely path with a rose in my hand, do you not see, my Love?
Its gradual bloom, scent romancing;
colour so radiant, petals tender -
a morning's sunday with you in my arms
May its fragrance not faint, its red not fade -
t'is all I have of you on this january night,
this familiar trodden path which leads no longer where
I hold this lone rose in my hand,
a rose I no longer see,
I long forgot,
yet still exists to tell -
of a lone rose in my hand,
and nothing but a lone rose in my hand.
It's for you,
my Love, my precious -
my precious Love
I walk a lonely path with a rose in my hand, do you not see, my Love?
Its gradual bloom, scent romancing;
colour so radiant, petals tender -
a morning's sunday with you in my arms
May its fragrance not faint, its red not fade -
t'is all I have of you on this january night,
this familiar trodden path which leads no longer where
I hold this lone rose in my hand,
a rose I no longer see,
I long forgot,
yet still exists to tell -
of a lone rose in my hand,
and nothing but a lone rose in my hand.
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