3's A Crowd

I understand your words
But no matter how gentle you say it, there are some things that are hard to explain
It is not worth hurting this love
No use according blame because I am already exhausted trying to save this relationship
There's no definite answer on just who is loving who
Even if the heart has changed, all is not unforgiven

She is just the most innocent Third Party
And even if she dissappears this moment, tell me what can I gain?
How can I blame her?
She is just the Third Party that rushed in accidentally
The problems between us already existed before she arrived
Even if I am angry, I understand
It is not right to let her bear all the responsibility

Hey Girl, you listen
Every love relationship has its competitors
I'm not jealous that you guys are happy
Although my life has its up's and down's
He is still a fine guy, our choice is not a coincidence
Use your youthfulness daringly
I will live to make this lost become a gain

- The Third Party, Fish Leong


Have you ever been Number 3 in a messy love triangle?
Has a someone ever intruded into your bliss, taken away something so dear to you, leaving you hurt and bitter?
Remember when you swore never to be the one who takes away another person's happiness but let your heart rule your head instead?
Can you be so magnanimous as to justify it by telling yourself the problems already existed way before? And not to start the emotional blame game?
Is there such a thing as an innocent Third Party?

If 3's a crowd, think about how 4 would turn out...it happens...

Attack Of The 3-Foot Monsters

You can run, but you cannot hide.

They're everywhere, in the mall, at the pool, on aeroplanes, all around you in cinemas, jostling for that last pathetic seat at Macdonalds, screaming, screeching, running amok all over the place.

God help us! The school holidays are upon us and the children are fur-a-reeee, free from the bondage of Teachers and Textbooks. To wreck havoc on Adult-kind as it were, at least for the next month or so.

I want to move to Timbuktoo.

The other day on the plane, this Sikh kid of about 6 was seated directly behind me, fidgeting like a monkey on Ecstacy. He kept kicking my seat despite me turning around to glare at him. And when he did it for the 7th time, I had to bite my tongue and restrain myself from strangling the boy with his own little turban. I stood up, put on my most frightening scrowl, hovered above him like some deranged gorilla and told his father, who was seated next to him, that he had better tie his son's legs to the chair. Yes, I know that Sikhs are big people, but I am not small myself =))

Then yesterday at the pool, a few young Ching-Chong Charlies hollering in Mandarin were practising diving. Every plunge was accompanied by a blood-curling screech that would make a female hyena giving birth to quadruplets blush. And the idiots were splashing water all over the place, in total disregard for some people, like moi, who were trying to have a peaceful and DRY afternoon reading. They wet my book. Bastards! One day I will switch the signs showing the deep end from the shallow end and then sit back to relax while the security guards scrape one of them Greg Louganis-wannabees off the bottom of the pool =))

And just now, while walking to my office, this fat Malay kid came hurtling towards me like some obese juggernaut. Head-butted me in the bloody crotch that blind lard-ball. Why? Because he was running towards his equally rotund father who was calling out to him to hurry up. And daddy had the cheek to giggle when he saw junior stumble at my feet. If I had kicked the fleshy football, he would have rolled fairly quickly towards his dad I reckon. Pity I was wearing slippers.

Don't get me wrong. I don't detest kids. Just the badly brought up ones. But who am I to say? I don't have any children to bring up myself. Maybe if I did, they would be just as spoilt and naughty. Although K and me tell ourselves, everytime we come across a badly-behaved ruggamuffin, that as parents, we would have slapped the kid so hard, the Milky Way could be seen without the Hubble Telescope.

Well I can take a few kids at a time, but when they come out in such droves, it just drives me crazy.

I say again, I want to move to Timbuktoo!

Auntie, You Gotta Be Kidding!

My once best friend W got married today.

I say 'once' because we're not that close anymore since he moved to live and work in Shanghai 6 years ago. You know how it goes, your lives take different tangents. But back then, we were buddies, almost inseparable during the period we were in between girlfriends.

He couldn't hold down a lasting relationship. I wanted nothing to do with girls for awhile.

And so we would hang out, get pissed drunk, write songs to play in our own little band that we formed with 2 other guys, go for rock concerts and mug together for the exams till the wee hours. I would also bunk over at his place quite alot and Auntie, his mum, would buy us breakfast in the morning. Being the kewl Mudder that she was, the 3 of us would then smoke in the kitchen while we finished up our coffee =))

Auntie looked resplendent in her sequinned evening gown tonight and was beaming from ear to ear like a coutured Cheshire cat. Although when K and me walked through the big doors of the posh restaurant and caught her eye, we could see the wide grin dissappear momentarily. It was quick to return when she shook our hands vigorously and asked us how we were, long time no see. I don't think she was unhappy to see us. W probably told her about the separation.

But who talks about sad things like that during a wedding? Tsk! We were here to eat and make merry, for tonight, her youngest darling boy was finally tying the knot.

Tying himself into a knot, if you ask K and me =)) Oh the cynicism! =P

As the band conjured up old Shanghai cabaret oldie after old Shanghai cabaret oldie, there was, what seemed to be, an orchestrated clinking of porcelain spoons and bowls amidst the tipsy guttural laughter of old uncles having had a pint too many. But the irritating Yam Sengs were slowly giving way to the clickity-clack of modern DSLRs as W, the love of-his-life and their parents glided from table to table, saying thanks and posing for photographs.

When they came to ours, Auntie had that wide grin plastered right back on that heavily made-up face of hers. Before proceeding to the next table, she turned around to W and me and proudly remarked in Mandarin..

"And to think I was afraid the both of you were gay"

Auntie, you gotta be kidding! =))

'Angels' In The City Of Angels Part VI

Today sees the end of my week-long sojourn in the City of Angels and with it, my Bangkok Diaries.

I have the late morning flight out because a very good friend is throwing his Chinese wedding dinner in the evening, Finally!, after all these years of seeing a dozen and one women. So I really need to partake of this momentous occasion, by hook or by crook =))

K and me spent our late evening, wrapped up in silk blankets, on electric reclinable sofa-seats worthy of SQ's Raffles Class, in a cinema hall built for 200 but customized for 32, watching X-Men 3 at Siam Paragon's opulently hip new cineplex. Well at 600Baht a ticket, it was quite an experience, considering the cavernous box office atrium was worthy of comparison to the lobby of the Ritz Carlton Millenia. I kid you not. Golden Village Gold Class, EAT YOUR HEART OUT! =)) Anyways, a review of the show later when I am more awake and sober.

For now, I need to go put a cold cucumber on my sunburnt nose and pack.

Its Sawatdii Khrap Siam, Sawatdii Khrap Singapore in 14 hours...

'Angels' In The City Of Angels Part V

The serious part of my trip has ended and now its time to hit downtown. The Chao Praya and its environs is really starting to get to me.

K flew up to meet me this morning, and I could finally catch up with the Bangkok we know so well. After a fantastic lunch at this Thai-Chinese fusion cafe with my former boss and his missus, we did some shopping. Actually SHE did the shopping, I just helped pick out like 3 tops and 3 bottoms from ROXY. Anyway, Siam Paragon, the newest behemoth of a Mall in the city centre, is really over-rated. Yah snazzy interior decor, fancy shops and everything but really, what can you get here that you can't get back home?

So after barely 2 hours, we came back to the hotel where I hit the gym while she had an appointment with her Masseuse for a 2-hour session of Thai-style abuse. Geez!

Ever the animal-rights 'activist', she initally declined to have Sharks Fin soup at Yaowarat for dinner. But succumbed when my piping-hot claypot of the good stuff arrived at our table =P Burp!

Later today, we're going to make the obligatory pilgrimage to Chatuchak early in the morning before the sweltering heat and maddening throngs take over. Then its back to the hotel pool with the swim-up bar for some much-needed sun and relaxation with our books. We may also want to catch Wat Arun (ok so its called the Temple of the Dawn I know =P) in the sunset and perhaps get some good shots.

Lets see shall we.

'Angels' In The City Of Angels Part IV

What was supposed to be an enjoyable reunion, dining with 2 former colleagues, turned out to be a melancholic affair.

Sad because I learnt from them that 2 Thais I used to work with very closely had passed on without me even knowing.

OP died of a heart attack just 2 weeks ago. He was not a young man, drank and smoked heavily and had a 'spare tyre' you would expect from a guy his age keeping such crazy hours without exercising. So really a heart-attack would ordinarily not be very shocking. But he was truly an inspiration to his men and was there for me, a young foreigner in a strange land, when I had to navigate the bureaucracy. I was told everybody wept buckets at the wake.

The other was M, my driver. Another heavy drinker. But only when he had ensured that I was sent safely back to my hotel every single evening after work or after my late-night meetings. And he was never tardy in the morning, even if I told him to pick me up very early. Always with a toothy grin that showed off his pearly whites which in turn matched his starched safari shirt, M, I was told, bled to death from the intestines after a particularly heavy binge over the Songkran last year. What a way to go :( I still remember that he used to regale me with stories of how he 'worked his way up' from being a Tuk Tuk driver to what he was today, the driver of a 'big' car for 'important' people. I had no heart to tell him that it was only a Honda and really, I was an insignificant small fry back home.

You know how in tragic movies, the good men are always the first to go. While the bastards live on forever.

Why does Life have to imitate Art sometimes I wonder.

'Angels' In The City Of Angels Part III

Here we were, G and me, standing outside 'Happy Massage'.

Another group of girls from a rival parlor were desperately waving at us from across the street, trying to catch our attention, as we took our own sweet time deciding on whether to go with the Foot Reflexology, Traditional Thai or Oil Massage. Decisions decisions.

You see, I discovered G and me are 'Massage Soulmates'. Because like moi, he gets all ticklish while getting kneaded and pressed like a lump of dough. We also do not have a very high threshold for pain and don't really relish getting twisted like an oversized ragdoll, stepped upon and wrapped in some kinky Judo-ish embrace with a total stranger =))

But we had just put our bodies through some 45mins of gym in the evening and thought our aching muskels deserved some TLC.

So we figured that the most expensive of the lot, the oil massage at 450Baht an hour, would be the least sadistic. At least it had lubrication =))

We were led individually to adjoining cubicles seperated by a thin partition. I could hear what his masseuse was telling him, and he could probably hear what mine was telling me. My masseuse then excused herself to pop into the Ladies for awhile.

Next door, I could listen in quite clearly...

Masseuse : "Ok u please the take out everything sir"

G : "K, k"

She then left the cubicle for awhile, presumably to let him strip down and then returned...

Masseuse : "Sir, I said please everything!"

G : "Har? Underwear also ah?"

Masseuse : "Yes Sir"

Eerie silence...

Then giggles. Just who was giggling I will let you profer a guess =))

G : "Ok you softer ah, softer...softer...softer...Ouch!...Owwww..."

More giggles...

It was then my masseuse returned. "Sir, you take out everything ok"

Gulp! =))

'Angels' In The City Of Angels Part II

Its funny what people doodle on their notepads during meetings.

During afternoon coffee-break today, I went around the conference table when everybody was out taking a smoke or having their Java infusion, to take a look at the things they drew while the speaker was yakking away. I had noticed that most of the delegates were busy 'writing' while I was trying my level best not to fall asleep. And since there was nothing much to take down in such earnesty, I figured they were either scrawling nonsense or sketching rubbish.

I was right.

You know some people believe what you doodle says alot about you and your sub-consciousness. Do you find youself doodling the same kinda stuff when you are bored while the boss is delivering his 78th Powerpoint slide and 37th Pie Chart/Bar Graph/Statistical Diagram? Well I do.

Today I saw the ubiquitous squares, flowers, crosses, funny faces, stars, flags, stickmen and houses. Someone even tried to do a self-portrait because I swear the doodle looked amazingly like his own caricature =)) And then there was another girl who had a plump juicy heart with like a gazillion arrows poking through. Scary! =))

For me, I find myself drawing 3-dimensional boxes alot. That's suppose to mean that I have an ordered mind and love routine in life =P Quite true I must say.

What do you like to doodle? Tell me and let me try to interprete your 'art' =))

**************************

Oh yah incase your're wondering why I'm up so late, just came back from a Transvestite Cabaret show with my new-found international kakis where the lead Ladyboy, cross my heart, looked like Christy Chung, curves and all =))

Going to order a room-service burger now cos dinner on the catamaran made me sick.

Its a 0630 breakfast day later, shit!

'Angels' In The City Of Angels Part I

Thank heavens for complimentary Broad-band WIFI.

Even if it means trudging down to the business centre in my shorts and singlet and plomping myself down on a plush comfy sofa next to a electrical powerpoint wif Maroon 5's This Love in thick Thai-accented tones blaring from a lounge band on the Mezzanine floor. I think I will just shrivel up and die if you cut me off the Internet, my important portal to the big bad world =)) Anyway I'm back, so much for disappearing for the week =P

And today I learnt that...

...Thai pilots desperately need to go back to Flying Skool. Captain Vichai Som-whathisname-poon made me sick all the way from Changi to Don Muang with his terrible piloting. Tilting, yawing, bending, Shuttle Atlantis ascents, roller-coaster descents, you name it, he did it. The poor PRC SYT next to me was turning green. And I hope he doesn't dare blame it on turbulence. I'll give him some turbulence in the nether regions of my own >(

...Don Muang, that perpetual '70s relic of an airport (and reportedly built in the '20s gosh!), needs to be demolished pronto. Reputedly SE Asia's busiest, it was dank and dilapidated when I last saw it in 2003, and just as dank and dilipidated when I stepped, or rather, staggered off the aeroplane today. My colleagues waited for an eternity for their bags at the carousel, only to discover 20mins later, that their luggage had been taken off the merry-go-round and placed nicely in an inconspicuous corner of the baggage-claim area by some dimwit. The much-delayed but spanking-new Suvarnabhumi (repeat after me, Soo-Wanna-Boom not Boo-mi) Terminal should be up and running by year's end. And every passenger should pay for a thanksgiving dance to be performed at the Erawan Shrine on Ratchaprasong Junction when that happens.

...some people cannot do simple Math. Dashed into a cafe next to the hotel for a quick Shrimp Fried Rice and Tangerine Juice before an official dinner (ok I wuz damn hungry!). I handed the waiter 500Baht for a 220Baht bill. And so when I got back only 220Baht as change, I marched right up to the cashier to politely claim my missing 60Baht. And it took me an agonizing 15mins to convince the former Padi fields farmer-girl cum buffalo-herdess turned Cash-till 'extraordinaire' that 500 minus 220 equals 280. Needless to say I was late for dinner.

More 'adventures' tommorrow! =))

Disappear

That's what Muff will be doing for the next week or so.

But he'll bring his lappy with him to the Land of Smiles so mebbe, just mebbe, if he's not too busy with the wining, dining and networking, he'll have some unker stories to share in here.

So like Ryan Seacrest on American Idol, its Muff....Out! =P

Vexed Over A Rex

Just got a killer call from my salesman.

Rally Blue Subaru WRX, SGD81K, on-the-road in 2 weeks. Slurp Slurp!



But sheesh, the road-tax, insurance and running costs are gonna kill me for dis 2.5l baby. You just can't think about the upfront payment alone when buying a car in S'pore. Or you're gonna pay for it later, DEARLY. Erm, like living off grass for the rest of the time you're not Re-rex-ing comfortably in your Recaro bucket seats =))

And then there are the infinite number of modifications your idle hands, being the devil's workshop, can do. More moolah down the drain.

Add to that I'm not getting a single cent off my present ride, so its like starting all over again from scratch!

Hiazz! God give me strength to resist =))

Awfully Good

My guys performed awfully well yesterday, so they'll be getting some awfully good all-chocolate cake from me for supper later today.

The shop's well known for their dark chocolate ice-cream too, simply called hei (chinese for black).

No frills, lotsa chic-choc and hey, bloody good I tell ya.



*******************************

And since I'll be up in Bangkok next week, thought I get in the mood by embarking on my new book, Rattawut Lapcharoensap's Sightseeing.



A debut collection of short stories set in contemporary Thailand from the young author who has won critical acclaim, it seems, from his honest-to-goodness story-telling which has the grace and sophistication that belie his 26 years. Lets see if it whips up some fond memories of pad thai and tom yam with a heavy dose of farangs and all things sawadee-resque.

hello hello beautiful 7k!

unkster as of right now has hit 7000 unique visitors! excellent show, muff and unk ;)

more, more, more!!! =))

Fool, Fools and Foolishness

Some people always play the fool.
Some like to pretend to be a fool.
Others constantly take the people around them for fools.
Guys fooling around with Girls, common.

But behaving like a fool, and being selfish enough not to realise how you made a real fool out of the person who was willing to be the fool for you time and again.

Now that's Foolish.

To Lie Or Not To Lie?

How good a liar are you? Nothing to be proud of even if you are I suppose.

A lie is an intentional false statement. To lie is to say something one believes to be false with the intention for it be taken for the truth. A white lie is a lie which is believed harmless or innocuous. So really, a lie is a lie, no ebony and ivory distinctions here I reckon.

And how about Lying by Omission which means allowing another person to believe something that one knows is false, by failing to reveal the truth, rather than by stating an untruth. I must say a very often used 'tactic' to justify and rationalize that one hasn't actually told a lie per se.

My point is, for every spousal relationship, the Idealists, marriage counsellers, pastors, parents and old couples celebrating their Diamond Wedding Anniversary always say that Truth and Honesty are the cornerstones. Its hard to argue with such wisdom. But harded still, is to believe that 100% Truth and Honesty between husband and wife exists in the real world we live in.

So if the wifey asks you, in all her genteel girlish seductive charm, how many girlfriends you had slept with so far, what would you say? A friend swears by the 'whatever-figure-it-is-automatically-minus-5' formula. He does not explain how you get youself out of negative-number territory if you had only slept with 4 =))

So assuming you slept with 10, if you said 20 because you are insane and want to make her jealous, you would be telling a lie. If you used the formula and said 5, its a white lie because the harmless subtraction won't hurt Her Majesty. If you had said 7 because sleeping with the 3 girls you met after clubbing at Zouk, MOS and Attica respectively does not count as 'girlfriends' per se, then it would be lying by omission =))

Experience tells me that many people ask for the truth, but cannot handle the truth. The lies hurt, but sometimes the truth hurts even more.

To lie or not to lie? Nobody can teach you. Just be prepared for the consequences =P

Balzac et la Petite Tailleuse Chinoise

Kazuo Ishiguro, Amy Tan, Jung Chang, Vikram Seth, to name a few. I've always preferred ethnic Asian writers. Although I think Amy is American and Jung, though China-born is now British. They offer such an insightful personal peek into our part of the world, a socio-cultural ecosystem so different from the West. Not to mention a first-hand glimpse into the Asian Psyche.

Catherine Lim's Or Else The Lightning God, a collection of short stories with her trademark flair for wit and irony, probably influenced what I read and how I write today. That was way back in 1984.

Anyway I slept at 4am last night trying to finish Dai Sijie's Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress. His first novel, it was published in 2000 and translated from French to English by Ina Rilke a year later. Dai, a film-maker, was born in China in 1954 and moved to France in 1984 where he has lived and worked ever since.



The book is an enchanting little tale about the magic of reading and the wonder of romantic awakening. 2 upper-class city boys are sent to a remote mountain village to be Re-educated by peasants during Mao's notorious Cultural Revolution. In the midst of carrying bucket-loads of excrement, ploughing the field and dancing with sudden death in the coal mines, they meet and flirt with the daughter of the local tailor. They also discover a hidden stash of banned Western Classics in Chinese translation and lose no time devouring every word in secret, transporting themselves to places beyond their sad existence.

I am 3-quarters through but I can say I haven't read something so poignant, humorous and romantic in a long time.

Getting Over

Ever wondered what your Ex is doing now? If he or she still thinks about you. Married wif kids? Marriage in the pits? Are they going through a rough patch with a Significant Other? So are they happy or sad? Do they miss you? Would you know what to say if you met again sometime, somewhere, out there. And what would it be like if you were still together. For better or for worse?

It'll be nice to know that they haven't really gotten over you. It means you were special in some way rite?

But what if they have? Would you know for sure? And does it matter anymore...Hmmmm

Old Joe's Kopi

Spent the day sleeping.

The long weekend's been pretty crappy for me because of work and the vampire hours. So when the whole world is out and about having fun, I am stuck in my big 'coffin' of a bed during the daylight hours, snoozing away.

And K's away in Hanoi on holiday wif a girlfriend.

Well I dragged my sleepy arse to the coffeeshop for some grub at 9pm just now. Couldn't find a table to myself cos its Mudders' Day and the place was absolutely bustling wif families and their Smiling Mummies, still in the final throes of makan-merry-making.

As I stood there, arms akimbo, looking abit lost and bewildered, I spied a weather-beaten old man, sitting cross-legged and perched on top of a stool, his table tucked in a corner, away from all the joyful banter and wailing children. After asking politely in Mandarin if I could join him, I plonked myself down. Old Joe had just finished a bowl of Duck Congee and was sipping his black coffee.

He looked contented.

I concluded that he was about 70, with the sun-soaked mien of a sailor. As he brought the cup to his lips, I could see he had stocky, calloused fingers and yellow, nicotine-stained fingernails. Old Joe also had a rasping cough, much like mine lately, and he turned around frequently to let fly a greenish gob of spittum onto the floor behind our table.

"You're not going to order young man?" he croaked in Hokkien. "I'll save the seat for you dun worry".

I thanked him and ordered a plate of Beef HorFun. And as I returned to the table with a glass of iced black coffee, he sniggered jokingly.

"Why you youngster like to put ice in kopi ah? Learn from angmo ah? Spoil taste not nice", he admonished in broken English.

"But its not bad, you should try it uncle", I stuttered back, still surprised at his sudden switch to the Lingua Franca.

"Your girlfriend where?", he asked.

"Erm, my wife is on holiday", I replied.

He looked amused.

"Mine also. But she never come back", and then he let off a huge vulgar guffaw.

I chuckled outwardly. But inside, I thought he was a little eccentric.

I ventured a 'Why?"

"Because I have Indon girlfriend when I am 60", he confessed. "actually girlfriends", emphasising the 'S' like a leathery snake high on caffeine.

"Uh huh", I smiled. "Now leh?"

"No more liao, I old man liao", he laughed

"Still can lah uncle, you look strong what", I joked.

"Look lah but I got lung cancer", he said nonchalantly.

I instinctively stubbed out the ciggerette I was smoking in the dirty condensed milk-tin ashtray on the table. Just great.

"Sorry to hear that uncle", I muttered while absent-mindedly blowing my last puff of smoke into his face.

"Nevermind. Anyway young man, husband and wife is like strong kopi hor, you put ice not nice liao, buay gao (not thick) liao. The ice is like girlfriend you know or not?" he said rather solemnly but smiling nonetheless.

"I think so" I replied.

Old Joe then stood up, took one last sip, and hobbled off.

My Hor Fun came soon after. And I ordered a 100Plus before finishing the beverage I had gotten earlier.

Reina Reigns As The Come-Back Kings FA-rk The Hammers

Woooo-hoooooooo Liverpool are FA Cup Champions, their 7th trophy from the prestigious but gruelling knock-out competition.



OK so it wasn't so 1-sided as my title would suggest. In fact after going 2-0 down in the 1st half, it looked as if Pool were FA-rked. Sloppy passing, an unusually fumbly Reina and an own-goal by Carragher signalled what looked like the beginning of the end to Captain Fantastic's desire to end the 2005/06 season with some silverware at Anfield.

But when you are playing a team that came back from the dead in Instanbul last year, you'd better have a 5-0 cushion before popping the champagne pre-maturely. And the Hammers found out soon enough.

It was 2-1 before halftime with Black Panther Cisse volleying in a superb shot from close range. Stevie G then crashed in the equaliser for 2-2 in the 2nd half before Paul Konchesky's cross caught Reina cold to put the London side back in front at 3-2.

I then left R at the pub for the office, convinced that the Come-back Kings would work some voodoo. And true enough, he sms-ed me to say that Stevie had smashed the ball in for another equaliser from 30 yards to send the game into extra-time, 10secs into Injury time.

It came down to penalties in the end. And Pool could have no better person between the posts than their recently crowned Premiership Golden-Gloved hero. The balding Spaniard went on to save 3, sending Pool to a 3-1 victory on penalties.

I say again..Woooo-Hooooooooo!=))

Remember The Fraggles?

If you are an unker or untie, you should =)) And so Russ I dun blame you for not knowing =P

Fraggle Rock is a children's television series created by Jim Henson and features a cast of Muppet-like creatures who also sing and dance. They've been around since 1983.

Fraggles are tiny humanoid creatures, about 22 inches tall, that come in a wide variety of colors and have tails that bear a tuft of fur on the end. They live in a system of natural caves called Fraggle Rock that are filled with all manner of creatures and features, and which seem to connect to at least two different worlds. Fraggles live a very carefree life, spending most of their time playing, exploring, and generally enjoying themselves.

Within Fraggle Rock lives a second species of small humanoid creatures, the pudgy green ant-like Doozers. Standing only 6 inches tall, Doozers are in a sense anti-Fraggles; their lives are dedicated to work and industry. Doozers spend much of their time busily constructing all manner of pointless scaffolding throughout Fraggle Rock, using miniature construction equipment and wearing hardhats and work boots.

Outside another exit from Fraggle Rock live a small family of Gorgs, giant furry humanoids standing 22 feet tall. The husband and wife of the family consider themselves the King and Queen of the Universe, with their son Junior as its prince and heir, but to all appearances they are really simple farmers with a rustic house and garden patch. Fraggles are considered a pest by the Gorgs, as they steal radishes.


Fraggles wif Doozers in the foreground


The Gorgs

Wassup Wif Wesak

OK 'fess up. Who doesn't really know what Vesak Day is all about?

Me! I always thought it was some kinda Buddhist festival and it definitely had something to do with Buddha of course but exactly what, no clue.

Well I am not the only one ok. Asked K, she didn't know. Asked 3 or 4 of my colleagues yesterday, blank faces. Asked a couple of buddies last nite, embarassed giggles.

Mebbe birds of a clueless feather flock together =)) So much for our multi-racial, multi-religious, uniquely S'porean upbringing.

Anyway had to go to, where else(?), Wikipedia for answers =))

Vesak/Wesak (from the name of the second month in the Hindu calendar, Vaisakha) is the most holy time in the Buddhist calendar. Hence on Vesak Day, Buddhists all over the world commemorate three great events: The Birth, Enlightenment and the Passing Away of Gautama Buddha. This sacred day is purely a religious festival, and not a festive occasion. On this day all Buddhists are expected to re-affirm their faith in the Buddha Dhamma and to lead a noble religious life. It is a day for meditation and for radiating Loving-Kindness.

On Vesak day, devout Buddhists are expected to assemble in various temples before dawn for the ceremonial hoisting of the Buddhist Flag and the singing of hymns in praise of the holy triple gem: The Buddha, The Dharma (His teachings), and The Sangha (His disciples). Devotees may bring simple offerings of flowers, candles and joss-sticks to lay at the feet of their teacher. These symbolic offerings are to remind followers that just as the beautiful flowers would wither away after a short while and the candles and joss-sticks would soon burn out, so too is life subject to decay and destruction. Devotees are enjoined to make a special effort to refrain from killing of any kind. They are encouraged to partake of vegetarian food for the day. Birds and animals are also released by the thousands in a symbolic act to liberation, of giving freedom to those who are in captivity. Some devout Buddhists will wear a simple white dress and spend the whole day in temples with renewed determination to observe the 8 precepts which are :

1. Not to kill
2. Not to steal
3. Not to engage in sexual misconduct
4. Not to indulge in wrong speech
5. Not to take intoxicating drinks and drugs
6. To abstain from taking food at unreasonable time
7. To refrain from sensual pleasures such as dancing, singing and self-adornment
8. To refrain from using high and luxurious seats in order to practice humility.

Well lucky I am not Buddhist because I was the complete anti-thesis of a good Sangha today, let alone radiating any form of loving kindness.

On the way to gorging myself silly with a double-brunch of meaty Banana-leaf Masala delights and a huge bowl of Prawn Noodles at Joo Chiat, I mentally slaughtered at least a dozen idiotic, inconsiderate pedestrians and motorists who were out in force on the roads because of the temple visits. To say I 'indulged in wrong speech' while driving would be a gross understatement =)) And oh yes, after midnite last nite, I finished 2 more Hoegaardens although I already had a pint during dinner. Does singing in the shower count as a sensual pleasure? =))

But its Number 8 that confounds me. How high is high? =))

East Coast USA, here i cum!

Here's the plan:

9th june departure. spend a week in boston for a course. then two weeks pottering about eastern united states new york/boston/connetticut/philly area... apart from lobsters in boston and greys papayas hotdogs in new york, any recommendations?

back on 31st june. or thereabouts.

Je T'aime

Means I Love You
But the danger in words so few
Lies not in the seduction of the Gallic tongue
It is when they are said, not sung

Unkers@TheMovies - MI:3 (Possibly My Last Mission, ever)

MI:3. Well, well, well, what can I say. How about, I didn't like it =))

Dissappointing, to say the least. Bordering on the ridiculous, more like it.

I mean, it says alot for a wham-bam-shebang kinda flick when K and me walked out of the cinema and found the pace draggy. Mebbe we were just sleepy =))

Anyway I don't mean to be an arse and spoil the show for all you Ethan Hunt groupies but I wanna bitch, can?

When Director JJ Abrams did this 3rd instalment, he took the III in Mission Impossible III seriously and built in 3 impossible missions into the plot. 3 too many really. Considering the 1st two failed and the 3rd mission-finale was more unbelievable in its execution than telling me my PM is gay.

Someone explain to me why the more I look at Tom Cruise, the more I think he's a Martian in disguise. I suppose it has got to do with all that Scientology wierd-ass shit he's been propagating. Its either that or I have never, for all the goodness in me, forgiven him for leaving the gorgeous Ms Kidman for the pudgy Ms Holmes (ok she's not pudgy but I am bitching remember). Of all the 3 instalments, he is the most tortured in this one. Why? All because of a girl (Michelle Monaghan who looks like she's perpetually in braces but pretty lah nonetheless). So believe the age-old adage when they say that women are trouble =))

The babelicious Keri Russell, who plays Tom's ex-trainee and protege Agent Lindsay Fariss appears for all of 15mins. Bloodied and bruised I may add. And she dies horribly. What a waste of babe-matter. Tsk Tsk!

Speaking of babes, sinewy sex-pot Maggie Q is to Agent Ethan Hunt's crack squad, what Park Ji-Sung is to Manchester United. The token Asian 'celebrity' put in primarily to ring in the Asian dollars. She only has one line of note throughout the entire movie, and even then, she's praying for Hunt's safe return in Cantonese and explaining in Queen's English thereafter that it is actually a prayer she used to say for her lost cat =)) I gagged.

Laurence Fishburne, who plays Hunt's Director Brassell, is fat. Period. He looks like a Rwandan Gorilla =))

For the 1st time, I realised that Hunt and gang belong to this organisation called the IMF. To me the IMF means International Monetary Fund lah and so I was horrified to learn that IMF actually stands for Impossible Missions Force in the movie. It was so corny I wanted to cry =)) Whatever the case, the IMF must be more powerful than the secret armies of the CIA because their agents fly anywhere in the world at short notice to create havoc, they beat MI6's Bond hands down when it comes to having a licence(s) to kill, seem to have an endless supply of money, resources and high-tech wizardry, plus the unquestionable endorsement of the US Senate to boot. Fearsome for something so corny.

Almost every 'Save The World' flick has something the bad guys have that can destroy our planet that the good guys want. Here, that something is called the Rabbit's Foot, an evil vial of yellow, urine-looking liquid, procured by the new bad guys of Hollywood cinema, the Chinese Communists. Shanghai Surprise? Hardly. What it does, even Mr Hunt does not know at the end of the movie. Does he care? Nope. He's only looking forward to some 'quality' time with the Missus (geddit? =P) after saving the world (and her) =))

I could go on but I am sleepy. So I shall end by saying that the only saving grace of the whole bullet-ridden circus was seeing Ms Q in her little red dress zooming around in an orange Lambo Gallardo.

Women may be trouble but they're sure Hot as hell =))

The RHCP Have Not RIP-ed

The world's 2nd biggest rock band (hurhur the 1st being U2 of cos) are baaaaaaack!



Ok the purists will call them Punk-Funk dung, not rock =))

Their 9th studio album Stadium Arcadium is due to be released..errr..today =)) And Dani California is the 1st single off the block.



I first heard of the RHCP, strangely, on the Pretty Woman soundtrack with Show Me Your Soul. Not exactly a very happenin' album to be in for funky frontman Anthony Kiedis and the boys. Especially when you have to jostle for space with Roxette's It Must Have Been Love =)) That was in 1990, good god!

And who can forget 1992's Blood Sugar Sex Magik which produced the make-the-crowds-go-crazy-at-HardRockCafe tunes Give It Away and Under The Bridge. Their early millenium hits Californication and By The Way are still on the airwaves. And I remember buying my precious Soul To Squeeze CD single (Coneheads soundtrack) from a supermarket checkout counter in Queensland in 1993.

Anyway to me, there are 2 great bassists alive today, U2's Adam Clayton and RHCP's Flea. They should do a duet one day, mebbe a funked-up version of the strong bass-lined With Or Without You where Bono and Kiedis can try to out-warble each other =))

In the meantime enjoy Dani California, which is a song about Dani, a girl who is supposed to be a representation of all the girls Kiedis has met in his entire life. Go figure!

With a bod like dat, that would pretty much mean 1/4 of the chicks in North America =))

Mee in Siam

Just received confirmation today that I'll be leading a delegation up to Bangkok for a 5-day conference at the end of the month.

Not exactly my destination of choice. Especially when I just wrote a nice long letter of reccommendation for my 2IC who has been nominated to participate in a 2-month study trip to Japan. Had to fight the temptation to replace her name with mine =)) Yah right!

Anyway the Thais are putting us up at the 5-Star Sheraton Royal Orchid on the Chao Phraya so I guess that's SOME consolation.



I know Bangkok well. Having been there on special assignment for 6 months in 2003. Had a driver back then so could afford the time to explore all the nooks and crannies. Including taking a 2-hour drive to watch Liverpool play the Thai national team in the rain. I could also navigate Chatuchak and MBK blindfolded =)) When I was not out having a lunch meeting at some swanky but boring Thai hotel, I would head out to the only South Indian bananaleaf restaurant in town at Sukhumvit for my rice, fish-head curry and papadum fix. It was either that or my Hainan zichar shophouse at Silom. And I had my favorite road-side stall in Yaowarat serving up the absolutely delish Prawn in Vermicelli.

I also used to ta-pao a packet of guava and pomelo for movies at the Cineplex above The Emporium, standing up before the show like all good Thais when the national anthem was played and beloved King Bhumipol came on screen =))

I haven't been back in 3 years. K tells me BKK has changed. Hell, Siam Paragon now looks like Ngee Ann City and the once smoggy, jam-packed metropolis has taken on a cleaner, more modern and cosmopolitan air.

Actually I am so desperate for some time off the daily grind at work that I'll even take a pathetic seminar across the causeway in Johor Bahru =))

Polling Day

Today is Polling Day.

I haven't voted once in my 32 years. But to say I am excited about it would be doing a Pinnochio and asking for an appendage to be growing out of my face =))

Anyway wat to do, I still have to drag my sorry arse down to the polling station to cast my miserable vote. When wat I really want is to snuggle beneath the sheets and go to sleep after working the graveyard shift yesterday.

Had the usual pre-election pow-wow last night with some colleagues on whether your vote is REALLY secret. Hur Hur.

Lets just say that there's an eye in the sky, looking at yoooooooooooooou =P

K i'm off to mark dat X....hope I don't fall asleep and stumble into the bloody ballot box =))

Skinny 8 Year Old

While most people I know (except mebbe Bamboo Russ) are on a weight-loss campaign, I think I had better gain some.

I've lost about 7kg over the last 2-3 months and for the first time in many years, someone said I looked skinny. So far, I've only been getting the polite "wah you've lost weight hor". But actually, I was never fat. Had a beer belly and puffy cheeks yes but never fat, FAT. And that was 5-6 years ago. You guys know about the Married-man Malady? =))

Anyway, its time to proteinize and hit the gym/pool/track religiously again. Need to put back the muscle tone that I've lost to wallowing, under-eating, late-nights and too many ciggies.

On the plus-side, K says I now have absolutely no tummy to speak of so perhaps the 6-pack will come sooner rather than later =)) Working on it darlin', workin' on it =P

I think I've also got a little mental toning and growing up to do. K says that over the past 18 months, I've been acting like a petulant 8 year-old trapped in a 32 year-old body. And its only with her. She wants her humorous gorilla with the comfortingly intelligent point-of-view back.

Well lets see how the mental and physical renovations work out. Hope its not too major a project ;)

GE Means General Electric

Help!

Someone tell me why I am totally not interested that...

...a Sea of White has invaded my neighbourhood and that my fishmonger has barely a chance to get his fingers all fishy as usual cos he's so busy shaking hands with politicians who have also touched babies who smell fishy.

...my Monday morning breakfast was marred by cheap, jarring, lorry-mounted speakers blaring an undecipherable cacophony of Eng-nese jibberish into my Hokkien Prawn Noodles.

...there's someone called Mr Gomez who put up a 'wayang' at the Electoral Department whilst filing his Minority Certificate (whatever that is) and still had the cheek to lie about it, not knowing he was filmed on Candid Camera.

...a certain lady Party Chairperson has such big badangdangs that are very distracting on national TV, which probably makes them look 3 times their actual size.

...they are reviving lunch-time rallies at Raffles Place for the benefit of the sweet OLs (office ladies) who cannot be bothered to trample in their chic Charles&Keiths to a god-forsaken muddy field in the middle of Ubi Industrial Estate after work.

...if you receive a copy of the New Democrat whilst innocently strolling in the park, you should incinerate it at the earliest given opportunity or risk taking out a full-page advert in the papers (so not cheap ok!).

...if you query why Public Housing projects cost 250K a pop you will be challenged to build your own, that is if you are stupid enough to say you can build one for 80K.

...the svelt, slender lamposts in my estate have been disfigured by lightning and other ugly assorted paraphernalia that look like blown-up obituaries.

Why Why Why?

Would I rather sip my Hoegaarden and read a trashy novel.

Dreamz On, FM

So K and me were sitting on the sofa, this laboriously lazy Labour Day, listening to soppy local boys Dreamz FM and she told me, "this song is soooo gonna be my theme song for the week".

Half in jest, I hope.

I pretended I didn't understand the lyrics =)) It helps when you have been failing your Chinese Oral exam for centuries.

Go figure.

*********************************************

On a happier note, we went Hi-Fi browsing just before dinner. K needs a replacement for her puny Sony. We are not hardcore audiophiles so aesthetics and branding are important. No fugly stack-upon-stack of rectangular blocks with protruding knobs and a mambo-jambo of wires running all over the shop please. But a cut above the run-of-the-mill Pioneers and Panasonics thanks.

Narrowed her choices to :


Nakamichi Soundspace 8


Bose Acoustic Wave


Denon S-101

Seems like a go for the Naka with the Den as the darkhorse. But the Great Singapore Sale is in a month's time.

Decisions decisions =))