No no, i'm not that lucky. My luck ran out since august 2006 and i'm living on my real abilities now. Been sent to Ohohsi lobby to watch over a room that watches other room that are pretty much not too important unless your surname is Teo.... It takes extreme talent to handle the extreme boredom and you will encounter in this endeavor, handling well over 3 CCTV cameras running on a limited supply of coffee.
Of course, if you're smart like me, you'll want to bring your own coffee maker and your cheapo filters from daiso. My good friend recommends green tea, but i think the old birds would laugh at me, maybe along the lines of "Eh sia la this guy wanna be jippun lang is it ?". When in Lome, do as the Lomans do, drink, coffee, no decaf, kau kau extra sugar.
On a side note, i just came back from JJ concert 2009 with a bump on my head. Read that he was in the sing song play piano company back when he's in the ahmi, and sure enough, there was this song that involved some mixing of the sounds of the rifle reloading and some hard banging bang bang. My "free" ticket this time round, came with something nasty. I should be more merticulous about what i say and agree with people, because if you still do not know, humans are annoyingly stupid and mistake prone.
The Earth Hour minute during the concert was... hilarious. It didn't last an hour nor a full minute, and it sure ain't dark. All the lightsticks put together would probably form a mini sun.
明天会更好。
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
291 : Distractions
They say a good sketch a day keeps they bad karma a way. I was wrong.
Today was awfully a bad bad day in the ahmi. I guess, its pretty normal for most of us.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
290 : Submissions = Stress
Its clear. This society is littered with mindless, selfish, gutless liars. And today, it proved just that. I'd like to share a short story with everyone.
There was a farmer named Tyke. He lived alone in a small and poor county 5 miles off the city center with his small farm of sheeps and chickens. Day by day, he took care of his beloved animals, feeding it and grooming them for one day they will be sold off in the city AS FOOD.
And so, years gone by, and Tyke was getting pretty old. He found it difficult to move around and mend his sheep and filling up the chicken feed would break more than a sweat. One fateful day, a little boy from a nearby village asked Tyke whether he could help him with his farm work, in exchange for some gold. Tyke agreed, and allowed him to help out for a day.
At the end of the day, seeing how a job well done the boy had performed, he requested the boy to come back tomorrow, as it was a small price to pay for someone to do the work for you. And, the boy agreed.
After not too long, the boy had been coming over to help almost every single day, either cleaning the pen or washing the farm. He had gained the trust of Tyke through his continuous hard work. Tyke knew, one day, the boy would request for more gold for the work done, he made a mental note to fire the boy's ass off once he requested for a pay rise.
And sure enough, that day had come. Tyke paid him his final salary and kicked him out of his farm. The boy, saddened, reluctantly walked home with a half empty purse. Tyke wasn't too nervous or anxious to find an extra helping hand immediately. He could still probably survive using his own effort to raise his animals.
But then, he realised he did not have the strength to lift up the water from the well, he could not catch up with the sheep when he herded them in the prairie, and the feed was too dirty for him to clean alone. He knew, he was in deep shit.
Gradually, the sheeps died, and the chickens thinned, they could'nt even be sold off for cheap chicken rice. And his wealth faded each sunset after sunset. He prayed for a moment, for the boy to return and help him out, for such help could never be found anywhere else.
Sure enough, the boy was passing by his farm from the village to the city. Grabbing the chance, Tyke offered to pay the boy extra gold for him if he could produce the same results previously. The boy, now slightly older than he was before, and smarter a bit, agreed.
Tyke went back to his rest area away from the sun to relax and watch TV, while the boy was busy outside doing his duties. When the boy returned to report that the job was done, Tyke gladly handed over the gold and let him go. Tyke decided to go the city the next day to sell off all his animals and retire.
At dawn, Tyke went to get his wagon, and prepared to load all all his poultry. To his horror, all the animals had died, their eyes white out with signs of blood gushing out from their slit opened intestines. The chickens had lost their heads too. He knew at that instant who's doing it was. And he wanted to pursue the matter with the boy.
However, the boy was never found or seen again.
Yes, i am at the edge of my sanity threshold. Hanging by the pinky.
There was a farmer named Tyke. He lived alone in a small and poor county 5 miles off the city center with his small farm of sheeps and chickens. Day by day, he took care of his beloved animals, feeding it and grooming them for one day they will be sold off in the city AS FOOD.
And so, years gone by, and Tyke was getting pretty old. He found it difficult to move around and mend his sheep and filling up the chicken feed would break more than a sweat. One fateful day, a little boy from a nearby village asked Tyke whether he could help him with his farm work, in exchange for some gold. Tyke agreed, and allowed him to help out for a day.
At the end of the day, seeing how a job well done the boy had performed, he requested the boy to come back tomorrow, as it was a small price to pay for someone to do the work for you. And, the boy agreed.
After not too long, the boy had been coming over to help almost every single day, either cleaning the pen or washing the farm. He had gained the trust of Tyke through his continuous hard work. Tyke knew, one day, the boy would request for more gold for the work done, he made a mental note to fire the boy's ass off once he requested for a pay rise.
And sure enough, that day had come. Tyke paid him his final salary and kicked him out of his farm. The boy, saddened, reluctantly walked home with a half empty purse. Tyke wasn't too nervous or anxious to find an extra helping hand immediately. He could still probably survive using his own effort to raise his animals.
But then, he realised he did not have the strength to lift up the water from the well, he could not catch up with the sheep when he herded them in the prairie, and the feed was too dirty for him to clean alone. He knew, he was in deep shit.
Gradually, the sheeps died, and the chickens thinned, they could'nt even be sold off for cheap chicken rice. And his wealth faded each sunset after sunset. He prayed for a moment, for the boy to return and help him out, for such help could never be found anywhere else.
Sure enough, the boy was passing by his farm from the village to the city. Grabbing the chance, Tyke offered to pay the boy extra gold for him if he could produce the same results previously. The boy, now slightly older than he was before, and smarter a bit, agreed.
Tyke went back to his rest area away from the sun to relax and watch TV, while the boy was busy outside doing his duties. When the boy returned to report that the job was done, Tyke gladly handed over the gold and let him go. Tyke decided to go the city the next day to sell off all his animals and retire.
At dawn, Tyke went to get his wagon, and prepared to load all all his poultry. To his horror, all the animals had died, their eyes white out with signs of blood gushing out from their slit opened intestines. The chickens had lost their heads too. He knew at that instant who's doing it was. And he wanted to pursue the matter with the boy.
However, the boy was never found or seen again.
Yes, i am at the edge of my sanity threshold. Hanging by the pinky.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
289 : Bending the Rules
Rules are meant to be broken. With that said, I've successfully covered my backside. Ok, lets go.
The bad thing about being sick, is well, not physically apt to do things that are too overwhelming. And the bad thing about being inside ahmi for HALF A YEAR already is that, your appetite increases, you get used to the usual exercises everyday. So usually you burn what you eat. When you're grounded in camp or home, you stack up lots of calories and fat. Not good.
Today, i made an abrupt decision to go running. I didn't decide how far i should run, simply made a mental note to stop running when i feel like dying or something. 7 minutes into my usual 2.4 pace, i felt like dying today. A strong sign of down sloping fitness. I'm running the clementi loop track, which stretches towards JE side, and the end is nowhere in sight. Ok time to walk back slowly......
A sudden gust of cold evening wind sent a chill up my nostrils, and i'm instantly reminded of the 怖い顔 of my <<<@>>>.... if you didn't get that its ok, not important.
"Friend, your hair looks long ar, you better bloody hell get it cut when i see you again"
No, i'm not his friend. Never going to be. But i still went to cut my hair today anyway.
I've managed to venture towards my way home, when i passed my an odd row of shophouses (no there are no shophouses in clementi, but those silly flatted 3-4 storey HDBs with shops on the 1st floor) , and there are like.. 3-4 hair saloons/barber scattered EVENLY along the alley. I smell conspiracy. I hate choices.
Here's the fun part, choosing the hair cutting services. Most people who live on this not so sunny island would most probably rank and base their choices on price, followed by service standards, and maybe by the ambience of their shop. For me, i don't have much hair anyway, and i just need a quick cut and shave to trim off my sides. So the obvious choice was the barber, cheap too.
Problem was, the barber had a long queue, and my dinner was getting cold at home ( it was 8pm). The other 3 saloons didn't have a queue, and they charge a slight premium $3-8 bucks more. I didn't mind, as long as its quick and neat. I took a subtle peek into the first empty saloon, HOLY SHEIT, the saloon lady was picking her nose. Next.
This other saloon had a nice atmosphere, with a budding manicure service too located 2 shops down. 1 or 2 in line, could consider, but there wasn't a saloon lady anywhere in sight, all middle aged looking guys... hmmm... better not take my chances of getting the touch again, if you know what i mean. Next.
You know, the most importantly thing of opening and starting a business is NAMING your business. What the heck is EXTREME HAIR BEAUTY SALOON, the shop is extremely run down thats for sure, the posters of model with beautiful hair are already yellowing, and the air con most probably smelled of mold, or evil aunties. Next...... .. ..
I backtracked, and joined the queue at the indian barber. Whoever said competition was beneficial to consumers ?
The bad thing about being sick, is well, not physically apt to do things that are too overwhelming. And the bad thing about being inside ahmi for HALF A YEAR already is that, your appetite increases, you get used to the usual exercises everyday. So usually you burn what you eat. When you're grounded in camp or home, you stack up lots of calories and fat. Not good.
Today, i made an abrupt decision to go running. I didn't decide how far i should run, simply made a mental note to stop running when i feel like dying or something. 7 minutes into my usual 2.4 pace, i felt like dying today. A strong sign of down sloping fitness. I'm running the clementi loop track, which stretches towards JE side, and the end is nowhere in sight. Ok time to walk back slowly......
A sudden gust of cold evening wind sent a chill up my nostrils, and i'm instantly reminded of the 怖い顔 of my <<<@>>>.... if you didn't get that its ok, not important.
"Friend, your hair looks long ar, you better bloody hell get it cut when i see you again"
No, i'm not his friend. Never going to be. But i still went to cut my hair today anyway.
I've managed to venture towards my way home, when i passed my an odd row of shophouses (no there are no shophouses in clementi, but those silly flatted 3-4 storey HDBs with shops on the 1st floor) , and there are like.. 3-4 hair saloons/barber scattered EVENLY along the alley. I smell conspiracy. I hate choices.
Here's the fun part, choosing the hair cutting services. Most people who live on this not so sunny island would most probably rank and base their choices on price, followed by service standards, and maybe by the ambience of their shop. For me, i don't have much hair anyway, and i just need a quick cut and shave to trim off my sides. So the obvious choice was the barber, cheap too.
Problem was, the barber had a long queue, and my dinner was getting cold at home ( it was 8pm). The other 3 saloons didn't have a queue, and they charge a slight premium $3-8 bucks more. I didn't mind, as long as its quick and neat. I took a subtle peek into the first empty saloon, HOLY SHEIT, the saloon lady was picking her nose. Next.
This other saloon had a nice atmosphere, with a budding manicure service too located 2 shops down. 1 or 2 in line, could consider, but there wasn't a saloon lady anywhere in sight, all middle aged looking guys... hmmm... better not take my chances of getting the touch again, if you know what i mean. Next.
You know, the most importantly thing of opening and starting a business is NAMING your business. What the heck is EXTREME HAIR BEAUTY SALOON, the shop is extremely run down thats for sure, the posters of model with beautiful hair are already yellowing, and the air con most probably smelled of mold, or evil aunties. Next...... .. ..
I backtracked, and joined the queue at the indian barber. Whoever said competition was beneficial to consumers ?
Monday, March 09, 2009
288 : ただめいしじゃねい～
We're making a new name card! Well, thats the good news, finally. The bad news ( actually super good news ), is that its a weekday, and i'm once again sitting infront of my PC doing some proper work, which is wonderfully non-ahmi related.
Was tasked last week to update and revamp my coy's fitness notice board, not that i'm a fitness instructor or what not, we're worms under the strict orders to make ourselves busy, or in most cases, SEEM busy. So i dug up my old architectural model making materials, the usual foam board, vanguard sheet, wire mesh to "recycle" into something useful. FINE, i'm actually being cheapo here, but hey i bought a march issue of body building USA just for this, and its not cheap, $15 plus probably can't be claimed.
Its a really interesting magazine about 2cm thick, lots of information on protein shakes, infact 1/3 of the book is chuck full of advertisments on pills and bulking up drugs. And since its from the US of A, i guess, well being the first time i bought an american magazine, i was quite shock to find some pictures of middle finger pointing men and women on the pages. Ok, culture shock for 5 seconds, we move on.
Our shoulder to shoulder distance is about 2.2-2.5 heads apart, anything more or less, a person would look... strange. These men depicted inside the magazine are huge, as in real huge, 3-3.5 heads apart shoulder to shoulder. If you thought the incredible halt was ugly, ugh, i really wonder why people want to build up and train their muscles to such unusual proportions. I would really like to hyperlink a picture to show you what i mean, I'm just afraid I'll feel guilty you won't be able to sleep tonight when you look at it. Google at your own discretion.
And why the heck am i home ? Doc said, "Conjunctivitis." Much less gruesome than overly sized men.
Was tasked last week to update and revamp my coy's fitness notice board, not that i'm a fitness instructor or what not, we're worms under the strict orders to make ourselves busy, or in most cases, SEEM busy. So i dug up my old architectural model making materials, the usual foam board, vanguard sheet, wire mesh to "recycle" into something useful. FINE, i'm actually being cheapo here, but hey i bought a march issue of body building USA just for this, and its not cheap, $15 plus probably can't be claimed.
Its a really interesting magazine about 2cm thick, lots of information on protein shakes, infact 1/3 of the book is chuck full of advertisments on pills and bulking up drugs. And since its from the US of A, i guess, well being the first time i bought an american magazine, i was quite shock to find some pictures of middle finger pointing men and women on the pages. Ok, culture shock for 5 seconds, we move on.
Our shoulder to shoulder distance is about 2.2-2.5 heads apart, anything more or less, a person would look... strange. These men depicted inside the magazine are huge, as in real huge, 3-3.5 heads apart shoulder to shoulder. If you thought the incredible halt was ugly, ugh, i really wonder why people want to build up and train their muscles to such unusual proportions. I would really like to hyperlink a picture to show you what i mean, I'm just afraid I'll feel guilty you won't be able to sleep tonight when you look at it. Google at your own discretion.
And why the heck am i home ? Doc said, "Conjunctivitis." Much less gruesome than overly sized men.
Saturday, March 07, 2009
287 : Honourable Duties
Our <<<#>>> is a real pain in the nostrills and he's like my childhood horror amplified 45x equipped with a rifle for a mouth. Worst off, he's dark like charcoal, burning on a innumerable scale of rage in eternity.....
He's the epitome of garang-ness and the embodiment of pain. HE IS THE BANE OF THE OhOhSi kids.
That's us, the child labourers of the ahmi. Instead of equipping us with guns, we're handling brooms, sponge and the duster 24/7 now. And thanks to this training, i can sweep up dust like a SM goddess with a leather whip, or whatever she holds in her hand. =X
At the end of the day, its either I GO, or HE GOES.
Garang-ness and garand-less are like oil and coffee. I'm coffee.
POSE OUT POSE OUT POSE OUTTT !
He's the epitome of garang-ness and the embodiment of pain. HE IS THE BANE OF THE OhOhSi kids.
That's us, the child labourers of the ahmi. Instead of equipping us with guns, we're handling brooms, sponge and the duster 24/7 now. And thanks to this training, i can sweep up dust like a SM goddess with a leather whip, or whatever she holds in her hand. =X
At the end of the day, its either I GO, or HE GOES.
Garang-ness and garand-less are like oil and coffee. I'm coffee.
POSE OUT POSE OUT POSE OUTTT !
Sunday, March 01, 2009
286 : Ruthless
Its been another long long long week in the ahmi, not that i want to emphasis the length of the sian-ness we kids get to experience inside... Haix....... And since i got plenty of time idling, i used that precious period of stoning to think about things.
Yesterday's the last day of the application excercise. So lets say, lets JUST say ahmi is being abolished, with boys hitting the age 16.5 being not liable for bleeding for the country. So we guys would spend more time hitting chicks and clubbing business would become a boom, more gangs would rock the society, thus higher paying jobs for policing. A 10% GST would have been implemented 10 years back to feed more mercernaries to bleed for our sake instead.
And probably me, my close friends and my bunk mates would be worrying about exams, project schedules or work frustrations this coming monday. Yeah, its an endless road ahead of us i realised, with still lots more "omg sian" gonna splurt out of our mouths.
On last wednesday, i told myself, "ok this coming weekend must enjoy". And shit does happens, i got told last minute i got GUT DUTY on sat till sun morning, and yes my guts did shrink to the size of peanuts. I've already booked movie tics for both slumdog and suspect X. Well, i was only nominated among 3 people for GUT and 1 only need to do it.
33.3% chance of tio-ing.
When we were interviewed each by the sai-kang delegate, i prayed silently to myself, believing that there is a god in everyone of us. But most importantly, i answered questions with honest and truth, tried to not seem too sad or reluctant, and most of all, LOOK UNIMPORTANT. For heavens sake, getting under the radar does help. And it did paid off, with another CKK (ciaokengkia) having the mortar up his...
I'd like to announce i've successfully level up on the skills of evasion and luck. I'm more confident of similar confrontations in the future now. Judging from the current condition, i reckon i just need to pump my MAGIC and more EVADE so if my luck fails, i can do the huhar ! like david copperfield and escape any mean situations.
Either that, or there's always the ASS-EH-EFF hotline. =X
Yesterday's the last day of the application excercise. So lets say, lets JUST say ahmi is being abolished, with boys hitting the age 16.5 being not liable for bleeding for the country. So we guys would spend more time hitting chicks and clubbing business would become a boom, more gangs would rock the society, thus higher paying jobs for policing. A 10% GST would have been implemented 10 years back to feed more mercernaries to bleed for our sake instead.
And probably me, my close friends and my bunk mates would be worrying about exams, project schedules or work frustrations this coming monday. Yeah, its an endless road ahead of us i realised, with still lots more "omg sian" gonna splurt out of our mouths.
On last wednesday, i told myself, "ok this coming weekend must enjoy". And shit does happens, i got told last minute i got GUT DUTY on sat till sun morning, and yes my guts did shrink to the size of peanuts. I've already booked movie tics for both slumdog and suspect X. Well, i was only nominated among 3 people for GUT and 1 only need to do it.
33.3% chance of tio-ing.
When we were interviewed each by the sai-kang delegate, i prayed silently to myself, believing that there is a god in everyone of us. But most importantly, i answered questions with honest and truth, tried to not seem too sad or reluctant, and most of all, LOOK UNIMPORTANT. For heavens sake, getting under the radar does help. And it did paid off, with another CKK (ciaokengkia) having the mortar up his...
I'd like to announce i've successfully level up on the skills of evasion and luck. I'm more confident of similar confrontations in the future now. Judging from the current condition, i reckon i just need to pump my MAGIC and more EVADE so if my luck fails, i can do the huhar ! like david copperfield and escape any mean situations.
Either that, or there's always the ASS-EH-EFF hotline. =X
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