singapore dreaming...

Most Singaporean movies are about one thing, Achieving the 5Cs. Having the cash, condo, credit card, car and country club. the movie Singapore Dreaming is no different.

I was pleasantly surprised that it is good. Woffles got Jack running for his money. Unlike Jack, it addressed the many issues in a more straight forward way. Unlike Jack, this movie didn't have a happy ending. The necessary had to be settled and it was, but the son that didn't make good stayed that way and here the magic of the movies ended.

Some qustions raised
1) A man asks his wife, "Do you respect me?"
2) A mother asked an ex-future daughter-in-law, "Was I a bad mother?"

Some answers
1) Wife anwers man, "Of course I respect you, you just need to work harder."
2) Ex-future daughter-in-law replies, "No, you just did your best."

If Woffles made another movie. I will catch it.

I watched Team America World Police too today. It's that movie made by the producers of South Park. And yes, it's the one with the wooden dolls. It was quite a waste of time, although the movie did put the way that Americans dealt with problems in an honest upfront way.

The best thing about the movie was the way they had an analogy of people with dicks, pussies and assholes.

The ass of a brother pissed me off again...

nothing is impossible...

Well, it seems that youtube's blog video service isn't working very wery well this week. Anyways, this is the URL...

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

Watch this!!! Especially if you don't watch any of the youtube stuff that I've posted. Those are not important, this is!!! so go watch it!!! It is ultra touching and if this doesn't move you, I really don't know what will.

It's about a father's love for his son. The song's real nice too.

stupid is as stupid does...

Well, it has almost been one week. One week since I've hurt my toe. It was definately painful. But it did get better over the week. But today is just bad. Someone stepped on it. And. Yes, AND. I rolled over my toe. I have a habit of putting my feet behind the wheels of the roller chairs. When I rolled back, my toe got caught inbetween the wheels of a roller.

Stupid is as stupid does.

sentimental value...

The fire raged within, consuming every space possible. It was hard to see through the distorted view of flame, heat and smoke. John could not believe that he had re-entered the crumbling building. At least the floors were concrete and not prone to dissolving into oblivion. However, they kept the heat in well and turned the room into a heated oven. The plaster walls were melting as a testament to the surmounting heat.

The walls were slowly melting, trickling drips of melted plaster. The streaks across the wall looked just like tears running down a face. It seems as the wall was mourning, mourning for the lost of the room. Fingers of flames licked the tears and dried them just like a real finger would. Consoling the mourner in quick succession, the fingers left streaks of blacken soot as reminders of the tears that were dried.

John looked at his gauge, it was three quarters empty. John tried remembering what he was supposed to be looking for, a ceramic statue. Again, John wondered what had compelled him to come back to get it. Glancing around, John saw it, grabbed it and prepared to douse the fire. John pulled out a circular metallic coin, he pushed the sole button on the coin twice and placed it gingerly in the centre of the room. After that, he quickly made his way out of the room.

Seconds later, a soft blast sounded signaling the mission accomplished. It was the newest technology in firefighting, a carbon dioxide blast. The room was basically frozen over, which was the reason why the owner had requested someone go in to retrieve the statue before the blast took place. John looked down at the statue in his hand. Nothing too special, the owner better have a good reason.

Handing the statue back to the owner, the owner took it with both hands and in one swift movement smashed the statue into the wall next to him. The floor was a mosaic of ceramic. John was just shocked, speechless. The owner fell to his knees and sieved his fingers through the sea of ceramic pieces. Everyone stood around, seeing only ceramic. The owner saw more, he saw what he was looking for, a ring. It was embedded into the ceramic when the man made the statue after his wife passed away. John smiled, something he hadn’t done in a long while.

play pool...

Honestly, do you think you play very well? If you do maybe you should watch this guy play.

I'm impressed with 2 things. Firstly he has come up with a 4 minute video of different pool trick.
The best trick happens at about 1 minute 25 seconds. Although you may complain that most of his tricks involve the white ball moving in an arc, so it officially only counts as one. But I guess unless you can actaully do all that, don't compalin about it. The second thing is that even though he's at home playing pool, he's in his pool attire. That's professionalism.

Thanks to elena chan for the recommendation.

And lastly... the ass of a little brother of mine is irriataing the life out of me...

the worst weekend of my life...

This is probably the worst weekend of my life.

-Details in this entry will be quite gross-

Went to Sentosa for a weekend of soccer, frisbee. It was all good. I kicked Weida's shin. My left big toe is blue black, I thought I broke it. Limped around, managed to keep running. Couldn't really bend it. Then it began to rain. A light drizzle. Nothing too great. Before I left, got a surlpee and that was the begining of the worst weekend of my life. Took a taxi out of Sentosa and managed to reach home at six forty. Had to reach dinner at seven thirty at a nearby BBQ place. Before I left, I left abit sick, abit puke-ish. Had dinner, wasn't too hungry, but had enough. After that, the people living at Sunset decided to go to Daily Scoop, an ice cream shop. I didn't get one. I knew I couldn't take anymore. But at that time I was still fine. Not as Puke-ish.

Went home, watched a movie. Went to the toilet once. After the movie, felt warm. Took my temperature. Had a fever. Poped 2 panadols. Visited the loo a couple more times. Gradually, the poop just turned into water. Reminded me of a visit to a dairy farm in primary 6. Saw a cow pee. It was like a flush. Open hole, water comes out, hole closes. So for most of Sunday mornign till this Monday morning, I was shitting water. I almost shitted my ass off. The shit smelt like crab and was burping alot too, and that smelt like durian with a tinge of seven up.

I lost about 2-3 kilos of water. Didn't eat much since then. Only started eating today. Even then, didn't finish anything. On my way to being thin. Hahaha. Was suppose to go to Marina Bay with some army friends for a steamboat dinner. Bummer. No chance with a bad stomach.

At least, I'm not shitting water anymore.

weird dreams...

Weird dreams seems to be something that I have alot. But I guess I only seem to have them more becasue I would tell everyone about them whenever I have them, especially the people involved. So here's one more.

This dream involves my younger brother and the sisters of two of my friends. Well the dream isn't like very clear, so it's not like going to be that entertaining. my youger brother and my friends' sister get kidnapped along with other kids around their age, about 6 or 7 of them. They get driven in this SUV into the jungle and for the weirdest reason I keep thinking it's in South America.

The police takes over to conduct an investigation. They gather all the relatives of the kidnapped kids and asked them to line up. The relatives, my friends and I get ushered past this wall that displays wallets and then to a table with a foolscape pad. On the pad, some of the relatives have written some stuff but I didn't write anything. And roughly that was the end of the dream. There's no outcome to the kidnapping, no nothing.

I told my friends and both asked what happened to their sisters in the end. Hahaha... Can't really say. I don't know what happened to my brother as well. Mayve there'll be a part II tonight. But it's not that exciting, hopefully something better will be showing.

celebrity deathmatch...

nice watching all jackie chan stuff... gorey though...

the start of youtube mania...

the stuff that people will fill late night television with...

another video...

just because it's free... would you just eat it?

another video...

if you think the da vinci code was too serious... this is just plain funny...

the end of youtube mania...

sugar as a basic food group...

another video...

Well I don't really surf youtube to get these clips. So I just take form other blogs that I read. Thanks to Kelvin for the Malaysian Idol clip adn Joel Wong for this one.

This clip tells us that Americans aren't afraid of terrorists. They are afraid of Arabs.

malaysian idol...

This is actually a TV advert for Malaysian Idol. I thought this was really funny and Singapore Idol needs to take some lessons in TV advertisements. There are more Malaysian Idol adverts, go to youtube and search for "malaysian idol". There are 3 or 4 more. Some aren't as funny.

turtle signs...

Have you seen the signs? the turtle sightings that are flooding the names and nicks of MSN users everywhere? And I'm sure you know by now what they all mean, in this day and age of information being called a highway. That's right, It's a sign of respect for the passing of a man

Who is this man you may ask. Who indeed. A man that warrants the mass appearence of turtles on the names and nicks of MSN users. This man is Steve Irwin. Yes the man that played with a crocodile with his baby in the other arm. The man that one of my friend inmitates with an uncanny likeness. The man who has been killed by a sting from a stingray.

But who would see? Who would know? The mass of turtles in the names and nicks of all the MSN users. Would Terri be comforted by the mass of electronic turtles that have taken over the names and nicks of MSN users everywhere?

Would Steve see this form up in heaven and peer down over a cloud and see the mass of turtles remembering him on the names and nicks of all the MSN users?

How long would the turtles last? A day? 2 days? A week at most? How long would they last. on the names and nicks of MSN users?

Sure this sounds cold and almost emotionless, but it is unfortunately just bad timing.

empty shots...

The empty cup sat on the counter alone, just like its drinker, empty and alone. John stared at the glass only to see his reflection in the dim light. The reflection was slightly distorted in the curvature of the glass. Not only did it reflect John’s face, it kind of reflected John’s current emotional state: slightly distorted.

It was another night after another day at work. Nothing too interesting happened, but it wasn’t all that monotonous either. John was a policeman. The elastic hours meant that he couldn’t really keep a social life going. Drinking at the bar was as much of a social life as John could hope for. Initially the bar was a place where John could meet new people and relax after a good day’s work. Now the bar was a place where John came to seek solitude. He often wondered why anyone would want to enter such a profession.

John had entertained the thoughts of changing his profession for as long as he could remember, since he started 26 years ago. Recently, the thoughts had intensified. 26 years of service was a long time. There were times when the job gave John fulfillment. However, much more of the time, the job just gave him the greatest headache of his life. He had a feeling that by the end of this night, he was going to get another one of those chronic migraines that his doctors told him so much of.

The bar had pockets of drinkers huddled in different parts of the establishment. Everyone was whispering as if afraid the next person could pick up an unintentional piece of news. John was alone as usual at the, at his usual spot: the third chair from the right, right underneath the ceiling lamp. No one else dared sit at the counter. The counter was John’s. Unless you had business with John, you do not sit at the counter, even when he wasn’t there; you order your drink and leave, that’s the unwritten rule.

The only patrons of the bar on weeknights were regulars. So nobody really stays at the bar for too long, which suits John just fine. John was still staring at the empty glass in front of him, deciding if he needed another one. A sudden cold wind blew from behind him, sending a chill up his spine. John had never felt this before, not after downing as many vodka shots as tonight. Maybe he needed more, or maybe he needed something stronger.

Before John could signal for another glass, the bartender firmly told the newcomer at the door to close the door before the bar froze over. The man stood at the door, letting the warm air sweep over him. The door shut with a jingle as the door swept past the tiny bell hanging over the doorframe. After that, the warmth slowly returned to John, creeping up over him like a blanket being pulled up from his feet. The newcomer sat himself right next to John. The bar watched in a new silence.

John tried to shift slightly to his left, as far as the stool would allow him to. However, the guy just seemed to be inching ever so closer as well. The man placed his left hand onto the counter. He pulled his sleeve back to reveal a stainless steel hook. John’s eyes widen. His stare traveled up the arm to the man’s head. John half expected the man to have a parrot and eye patch. Fortunately, the only fascinating part was the hand. Now, John knew he needed another drink.

-=-

Couldn't finish the story... it has been sitting on the desktop for about 2 months? cannot be too sure... tell me an ending... and i'll add it in later... it has to be good though... maybe a good twist... or 2...