NUS Sports Camp rocks. Well so far anyway.

alright, so i can't draw. get off it already 

dream a little dream

I've just had the weirdest dream. Actually I can't remember almost all of it except for this one very very disturbing scene that seems so damned vivid. Somehow I was a kid again, maybe 10 or twelve years old and hanging around this bunch of guys, soldiers maybe. And we're at the waterside. A quay, a jetty, a wharf, I'm not sure. Then out of nowhere there's this other boy who doesn't have a face. Long hair obscuring most of it anyway. The guys start laughing and then decide to see how the two of us boys would look kneeling at the water edge like one of those condemned Chinese during the Japanese Occupation. So we kneel and I'm just staring dejectedly into the water. Then all of a sudden I feel it. I feel it like I've just made the transition to the parallel universe I've made for myself.
The razor sharp, honed and heavy blade of a long sword that one of the guys has somehow produced out of nowhere. I freeze and then there's a hand on my head, forcing it down. I don't struggle. I don't know why. They walk over to the other boy. I hear a plop and there's a head floating face down in the water, its long hair spread out like a fan of writhing snakes. There's a dull thud.
I'm not sure what happens later but the only thing I can recall is me walking off with the guys and them laughing and saying nothing happened. And then I see someone drop a long haired head into a bin.

Go figure.

argh

I suppose the only thing thats keeping me at the restaurant is the high pay and the fact that its only a short ride away from home. Okay, their playing Lush 99.5 all day doesn't hurt either.
Every single one of the higher ups there seem to take offense really really easily and share a common trait. They're kan cheong frikkin spiders. Slightest up in customer volume and they're all breathless and jumpy.
Get this, I'm helping one of the other waiters grab settings for a table and stepped back to allow him to reach for the servettes in the top drawer, before I went for the place mats and cutlery. Within that split second where I'm standing there and he's opening the drawer, the manager spots me and proceeds to snap at me about using eye power and not helping him out. It was all I could do not to tell her to just shuddup. The other waiter knew what was happening but just rolled his eyes and told me she was always like that.
And then there's the waitress who just happens to have worked there for the longest among us and now thinks she's the resident 'Ah Jie', giving airs and being condescending to every other waiter like some goddamned prima donna. Today I asked her which table was 25 because the tables got rearranged for the lunch crowd. The one she pointed out turned out to be wrong and when another manager asked her how come she gave me wrong directions. she proceeded to lay all the blame on me, saying I caused her to gabra and screw up. Burn in hell bitch.
Ah, at least the other staff are pretty nice. Half the population's from ACJc somehow. There's even more than one pretty girl.

Essential Guidelines For Any Channel 8 Drama

- If you're gonna have any of your leads wear anything less than t-shirt and shorts, take the chance to plug that scene for all its worth, No matter how short, how completely irelevant the scene is or how utterly un-drool-worthy the actor or actress actually looks. In years to come, it'll be the only thing people remember about your show.

- There's no drama like melodrama. Every episode, each member of the cast must cry the obligatory 2 buckets of tears. Not only does it make your show seems sensitive and deep, it also saves on the water bill when the obligatory walk in the rain scene comes on.

- To emphasis the utter wretchedness of the character after being dumped/cheated/slimed/insulted/kicked-out-of-the-house, viewers must be introduced to the afore mentioned character's personal raincloud. This is to be done by ensuring that rain is pouring torrentially down on him or her and yet everything around seems to be completely unaffected by the storm.

- Boy-Girl relationships are great. But damn, Boy-Girl-Boy-Girl-Boy relationships are even better! Remember, love triangles are so passe. Love pentagons, now there's a scene. Too small a cast? Hell whoever said there couldn't be more to brotherly and sisterly love?

- Whenever the protaganist is in down and out, his or her current love interest will miraculously appear out of the blue for no reason whatsoever and bring our hero to either the beach, the railway tracks or the top of a tall building, after somehow overcoming all the locks and barriers that usually prevent people from getting there. At this point of time, the love interest will spout some bullshit about always going to said place to ponder life's mysteries and subsequently convince our hero to join him or her in prancing around, hollering at the top of their voices.

- Grandpa ALWAYS dies. And not just die in any ol way. He's got to die the tried and tested Channel 8 drama way.
1. Family gets into big brouhaha and starts screwing each other.
2. Grandpa, being the quiet old gentleman, is reluctantly brought to the edge and nearly bursts a vessel telling them to shut up.
3. It seems Grandpa DID in fact burst a vessel, at which point he will hold his quivering hand to his heart and make spasmic motions while he makes an expression like someone having a toaster rammed up his arse while reciting the 12x multiplication table.
4. Grandpa makes a desperate attempt to grab the bottle of pills that reside permenantly in his left breast pocket. On getting his hands on it, the slippery devil will fly joyously from his trembling hands and spill its contents all over the floor.
5. Grandpa dies. Credits come on so people will not have to abosrb more information after being stunned senseless by the sheer absurdity of the scene.

tcs

Its absolutely astounding that while directors like Royston Tan and Eric Khoo are receiving critical international acclaim and even long standing ovations at prestigous events like the Cannes International Film Festival no less, the standard of local productions here in sunny ol Singapore is nothing short of pathetic.
I mean, just take a look. Every sitcom we've had in recent years has simply been stupendously, mind numbingly stupid. Either that or its been a last ditch, half hearted effort to spark some life into a faded Hong Kong has-been's once illustrious career. Its as if the Singapore television industry's idea of a good situational comedy is one that includes either one or more of these pointers:
- bad or no storyline
- extremely crass, loud mouthed and stupid main protanganist
- even crasser, even more loud mouthed and even stupider sidekicks
- brazenly fake looking sets
- traumatisingly bad acting

Those period dramas that Mediacorp's so proud of aren't any better as well. Just think about it, half the shows that have come out on out television screens the past few years have been poorly disguised attempts to plug government campaigns. Or, once again resurrect some Hongkie Tongkie's half dead career. When the government wanted more babies, of course it was a coincidence that First Mums just happened to be released. When they started the Speak Good English campaign, all of a sudden Phua Chu Kang was plugging grammar classes. Whenever those bloody NKF circuses are about to be broadcast, somehow a whole spate of period dramas featuring Zoe Tay and her bretheren as oh-so-heroic kidney dialysis patients hit our screens as if someone put the shit to the fan.

Wonder what the government would dod if someone came up with a drama about the daily life of an opposition party member. Or a political satire. Wonder what would happen to me if I happen to mention the 'L' word in this post.

crap

So good things do happen to me. Just that they've got really really frikkin awfully bad timing.
ACS(i) finally responded about my job enquiry and said they needed me to relief teach maths. Thats like a frikkin dream job. I think its more than $65 a day and you get air con classrooms, air frikkin conditioned canteen, or should I say refectory, nice staff room with its very own secret staircase, olympic sized pool and track at close disposal. And the best part. Your very own LAN shop. M-m-m-m-m-monster kill!!!
Problem is, I just started out at Corduroy and Finch and its bloody impolite to just up and leave. I'm not particularly fond of wham, bam, thank you maam. Not that I've done it before. I think. Plus the ACS(i) expects me to devote five days a week of my time to them which I can't if I want to attend the NUS sports camp.
Ah crap.
What the hell am I complaining about. Mark, if you're reading this, you owe me man.

Anybody got kang tau for Kent Ridge hall? Help me get in le.

mj

I think its high time we gave Michael Jackson a break. I mean, even though he's finally been acquitted of charges and walks a free man, there's been a humongous outcry from people who just can't quit thinking that people who can't keep their noses on are bad influences on kids. I suppose you might say they do have a point, but then we're not in imminent danger of bringing up a next generation of kids looking like an anorexic pontianak who's just seen a ghost. Or its reflection in the mirror.
Think about this. If you were an 8 year old kid given the chance to visit a humongous wonder world filled with ferris wheels and roller coasters and games and prizes and all, and get to hang out with a rich and famous international star at the same time, wouldn't you just stop short of giving yourself a heart attack jumping for joy? Even bigger chance of that heart attack when you're battling cancer at the same time and chances of you making it past your tenth birthday aren't all fine and dandy. If it were anyone else other than MJ offering something like that, the world would probably hail him as a hero.
Also, if you were that same kid and facing the prospect of sleeping all by yourself in a huge, completely foreign room in an even biggger and even more foreign house, I don't think you'd be exactly enthralled. And if you had a grown up friend whom you've had fun with all day and sleeps just down the corridor, well, it doesn't take a genius to figure out what that kid would do.
What the media says isn't exactly false, but then again, it isn't exactly true either.

Lets give ol' 'not Mr Billy Jean' a chance.

in memory

I can't say that I knew Kang Fei very well. Other than us both being part of the same big group that went down to Bukit Timah Plaza every other night to play Warcraft after a long day of studying for A levels.
Hmm, I suppose I really oughta have played less and studied more. But thats not the point here.
For some reason, of all the people I met in my first few days of school, Fei was the one who stuck most in my mind. I was in 1sa1 and he was in 1sa3 and I rememeber talking to him during my first ever F maths lecture. Can't remember what we talked about, but I know that started me going to lectures looking more to talk to people than actually paying attention to what was being said. I remember him telling me about life in ACJC and generally giving advice on how to survive JC life without becoming too much of a nerd. He also warned me not to be like him and treat first year as a 'holiday year' and end up regretting it. All this with a smile and an energy completely unlike most people taking F maths.
Six months ago, I caught up with Fei during the ACJC batch of 2002 reunion at Hard Rock. We just happened to end up at the same table. Basic small talk about how we'd spent the last two years ensued, but somehow I could sense something was distracting him.
Six months later, Fei lies in an ornamented white box with his eyes closed and his arms folded across his chest. If only he was but asleep. He looks so unbelievably small wearing the ACJC blazer, as if the chemo took more than just his hair. He looks like the boy his exterior belies, now that the man within has left.

Take care up there Fei. Finally you get to meet our dear Lord face to face. And heaven is a better place for it.

Be there at the gates when the rest of us finally get there.

singapore needs more places that sell stuff like this 

oh my oh my. twin peaks in more ways than one 

tram station 

hong kong skyline. be blown away 

its not polite to point 

quality really never does go out of style 

first morning in jackie chan land and my camera was star struck too 

4 hours of flying later, jh is walking and smiling in his sleep 

home, well kinda

Hong Kong. The land of Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan and low budget movies every other day was an absolute blast. Apologies though, for my ever present black face whenever the guys decided to go play Dota. I know Shaun was a little cheesed off that I was so adamant about not making the Dragon Knight my alter ego. Or any other hero for that matter.
Nu Ren Jie, Mong Kok. Tsim Sha Tsui and our ever popular Times Square. Unforgettable times man. Its been a while since I've done that much walking in a period of time. And certainly the first time its ever been voluntary.
Whats not so wonderful however, is the herd of unruly, dirgruntled elephants that have suddenly decided to go spelunking inside my skull, probably due to the fact that less than 10 hours after my feet touched the ground of Changi Airport, I'm overseas yet again. Its only KL, but damn it feels a million miles away.
Just found out that Kang Fei's gotten an infection thats landed him in the ICU. Supposed to be very serious according to Gabe and a few others. I think the best thing we can do for him now is to keep him in our prayers. Thats is, unless you've suddenly come up with a cure for leukemia.
Come Fei. Fight hard. Live strong.

Pray.

enough is enough

This is getting just a little psychotic. For goodness sakes, there are grown men here hollering at each other like little kids. Its like a frikkin joke.
Enough is enough.
The guys sorta rooting for me, I really appreciate your standing up for me but honestly, getting into a tizzy over some trivial comment by John Doe over here is really not worth the effort. He's here for the fight, and he's getting one.
To the John Doe who seems to get off on not just flaming me but my friends as well, you're entitled to your own opinions, but there are much better ways to express them than by posting anonymous hate mail on my blog. If you're not happy with the way I write, then tell me constructively what you think ought to be improved. If you find that the the honourable history of the Commandos is somehow being defiled by the presence of myself or any other AC boy in its ranks, then please, whats the point of ranting and raving here. Do something about it. Write an article to MINDEF about the faults in their selection system, send in a comment to the forum page. After all, the worst thing that could happen would be for your wish to come true.
Its interesting how the things that I've been through bother you more than they bother me.

accomplishments?

I kinda remembered sometime back I came up with a list of thing I wanted to do or get and the cost of each indivdual item. So I decided to go check up on that list to see what I've managed to accquire 2 months later.

-1 open water diving course $395+
-1 mountain bike plus accessories I aim to get in the future $1200+
-1 Fender American Series Stratocaster $1300
-1 Marshall Amp $500
-1 cross Europe backpacking trip $2000-3000+
-1 Radeon 9800 videocard so I can play Half Life 2 $600
-1 Accelerated Free Fall course $4000

That was the original list.
And so it seems that out of the 7 items on my little wish list, the only thing I did manage to accquire is the mountain bike, which I at least found a way not to have to fork $1200 bucks for. Come to think of it, I can cross out the video card too. I'm determined not to let some computer game take its hold on me again. So that leaves me....with....dammit... its still a frikkin whole lot of expensive shit.

I'll repeat my rant. How come I can't be some typical ACS boy and have a stupenduously rich dad who owns three quaters the world or something and who's more than willing to fund my gargantuan dreams with, well, gargantuan funds. For want of a better word.

quiet is the new loud

The Kings of Convenience are like a breath of fresh air in a methane gas factory thats just realised they really ought not to have bought sealant from the noisy yellow guy with the mole and the yellow boots.
No electronica, no trashy guitars, no pounding bass and certainly no half-past-six vocals whining about being not a girl, not yet a woman. Just simple smooth, quiet, accoustic...music. A term thats too easily and cheaply used today.

Shoulda asked you first Gabe. Then we'd have both albums instead of two copies of the same.

Ah well. I actually bought the CD. Thats gotta count for something.