Take a look. Ladies, be glad you're not a guy or a plumber. Be very very glad.
Life doesn't get worse than this.
The musings of a overworked, under-rested mind goes online. Bringing a couple of smiles and perhaps inspire a few ideas, and get some inspiration back. And if you believe this will make me talk less, there's a bridge over in London I'd like to sell you. Cheap.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Friday, February 24, 2006
Get This Party Started
Aight, listen up Niggas.
This is da MAN talking. So listen UP and listen GOOD.
My homie, DJ Funky T is burning up the decks tonite at CoCo Latte. So get yer ass down there and Par-tay. He be da BOMB.
So bling up, and getcher down for some tight booty shaking kick ass spinning cos this is gonna be a rockin par-tay. So good, yer NOT gonna need licker to get buzzed.
Check the details down below, and be there. Ya feeling me?
----
Interpretation. My mate, Ti Eu is spinning at Coco Latte tonight. It's going to be an OUTSTANDING party, cos he's a fantastic DJ.
Dress up and come dance. It's going to be so good, you probably won't have to drink.
Here's the details:
Place : Coco Latte, Gallery Hotel.
Date : Tonight, 24th Feb.
Time : 10pm onwards (ma Nigga hits the decks at 1am)
Kick ASS, mutha-fuka!! Peace.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Folks from Beyond The Sea.
These pictures are taken from a time where I was a little younger. Good memories. And since I recently recovered my hard disk from my old computer, well.
Indulge my exhibitionistic streak. Heh.
When I was still fit in the army. Our last mission in Taiwan before ORD. The Bikees.
Jillian's 21st Bday in Scotland. Can you Guess which one of the people in the picture Jillian is? Andrew's the bf, or fiance, as the case may be. Guys, he's got the coolest FYP ever. He was working with a group of engineers to design an F1 Racing car that Mclaren will actually RACE.
Me, Stephanie and Ai Hsiang, in Maastrict, in the appendix of the Netherlands. When Stephanie came to Singapore, I bought her condensed milk and sesame seed oil.
Don't laugh, apparently they don't have condensed milk in Europe. So much for Dutch Lady being authentic.
Amanda ( on the right) put me up at her place when I was in Scotland. I love the Scots. Especially when just a tale on how Singapore's coolest temperature is 23 degrees celcius gets ya a free pint at the local pub. Oh, that's her best friend on the left. We were at Jillian's 21st. Refer to pic 2. Remember dammit!
These buggers got me WASTED the night before, then dragged me outta bed at freaking 8 in the morning to play paintball. This whole bunch features like mixed nuts. Literally.
From the left is Denmark (I think), Norway, Scottish, and Scottish Chinese. And they were trying to get into the pants of the french gals who lived opposite them. Peace on Earth.
Me and Derrick. The pool was in Myanmmar. In the Condo of the 1st Secretary of the Singapore Embassy. Piss off Keanu, we didn't even need wires.
I'll put in the places later on during the day.
Indulge my exhibitionistic streak. Heh.
When I was still fit in the army. Our last mission in Taiwan before ORD. The Bikees.
Jillian's 21st Bday in Scotland. Can you Guess which one of the people in the picture Jillian is? Andrew's the bf, or fiance, as the case may be. Guys, he's got the coolest FYP ever. He was working with a group of engineers to design an F1 Racing car that Mclaren will actually RACE.
Me, Stephanie and Ai Hsiang, in Maastrict, in the appendix of the Netherlands. When Stephanie came to Singapore, I bought her condensed milk and sesame seed oil.
Don't laugh, apparently they don't have condensed milk in Europe. So much for Dutch Lady being authentic.
Amanda ( on the right) put me up at her place when I was in Scotland. I love the Scots. Especially when just a tale on how Singapore's coolest temperature is 23 degrees celcius gets ya a free pint at the local pub. Oh, that's her best friend on the left. We were at Jillian's 21st. Refer to pic 2. Remember dammit!
These buggers got me WASTED the night before, then dragged me outta bed at freaking 8 in the morning to play paintball. This whole bunch features like mixed nuts. Literally.
From the left is Denmark (I think), Norway, Scottish, and Scottish Chinese. And they were trying to get into the pants of the french gals who lived opposite them. Peace on Earth.
Me and Derrick. The pool was in Myanmmar. In the Condo of the 1st Secretary of the Singapore Embassy. Piss off Keanu, we didn't even need wires.
I'll put in the places later on during the day.
Friday, February 17, 2006
What Car Are You?
I'm a Chevrolet Corvette!
You're a classic - powerful, athletic, and competitive. You're all about winning the race and getting the job done. While you have a practical everyday side, you get wild when anyone pushes your pedal. You hate to lose, but you hardly ever do.
Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.
Go on, take the quiz, and then post your answers HERE!
Putting Everything in Perspective
My Friend Chek just smsed me.
An ex-colleague just passed away this morning of a heart attack.
Fuck. This is sudden. A hole in my heart opens up suddenly.
No, I wasn't close to Brandon, neither did we work very closely together in the 5 months I was in APB. Still, he was a likeable fellow, and I had a couple of interesting conversations with him.
He was suppose to leave APB to further his studies in Oz. Brisbane I believe. I cannot remember what it is that he was suppose to be studying. He was interested in trading. I know because we discussed it a couple of times when I popped back to the party bus, and another one of the soccer events, we talked about it.
He was gonna get out, and get going. In a certain sense, I guess he did.
Puts everything in perspective doesn't it? The death of someone that you know. Especially something as sudden as this. What would you do, if you really knew you had 24 hours left to live? Would you make the same decisions that you did?
What would really change?
I guess that's why we go to funerals. The dead is already gone, they don't care anymore. The funeral is solace for the living. A way of tying up loose ends, to do SOMETHING for the person who left so suddenly. To the living, it is also a mirror. It questions us on our own lives, the things we have done, and the decisions we made.
If we were the person that is lying right now, in the coffin, how would we ourselves look at our own lives? Would the things we spend so much time doing still be important to us? Or would some things that we too often overlook suddenly seem absolutely vital?
I go for the wake tonight. In part, for the loved ones of a colleague I never had the chance to know well. In part, for myself, a manner for self-reflection.
Cheers Brandon. This beer is for you.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Disappointment with God
Danger! This post may mindfuck you and change your thoughts about divinity. Read on at your own risk.
3 questions plagued me since I was a kid trying to defend my faith to those around me.
3 questions people ask me, and I have never been able to give a satisfactory accounting of what I believe in.
3 questions. Simple, yet most religious types in the world cringe whenever these questions get asked.
Is God Unfair?
Is God Hidden?
Is God Silent?
How many times have we ourselves asked that same question? How often have we begged for a sign that there's a higher power and that supernatural force answer in a whirlwind or in a thunderstorm?
For students, probably every time we have exams and we haven't studied. (For me, that's nearly every single exam in uni.)
In times of crisis, in times of pain and despair. We shout for divine presence to take the pain away. For our lives to be smooth, or for a sudden flash of divine intervention and we wake up, and it is all a bad dream.
And rarely does this supernatural being respond. In fact, the response is an exception rather than a norm.
And then I read a book written by a christian, "Disappointment with God". It was a present given to me by my cousin and his wife for christmas. Strange. These 2 people are staunch to the point of being anal, it's christmas, and THEY want me, the black sheep in the family, to read a book that deals with God pissing off and upsetting people? Are they NUTS?
I took a plug at it anyways. After all I finished Asimov's Foundation series, and there's nothing much else interesting on the shelves that I have not read a dozen times.
The book blew me away.
I'm not saying I immediately accept what the book says, but to answer those three questions, it poses a few more questions to present another perspective to us. Here are a few what ifs (Gen! How about it? A page from your book ;))
What if, in creating man and giving him free will, God is looking for Man to love him back, without compulsion, without Him forcing that love?
Think back to the comedy, Bruce Almighty. What is the ONE RULE that God (Morgan Freeman) told Bruce (Jim Carrey)? That Bruce can do absolutely ANYTHING but he cannot compel anyone to love him. What if God CAN change all of us into adoring puppets, but He chooses not to? What if he set us free, knowing that most will reject him, and only some will come back? Yet He loves every single one of His creation?
What if, the reason why God does not speak out in thunder and lightning, and smite the blasphemer, is because He has tried it, and instead of inspiring love, what He got was fear and a "lover" that strained to break away?
If you have ever read the Old Testament, that was what it was like for them. God was with them, every single step of the way. No ambiguity, no question about it. If you have a tame cloud pillar cum whirlwind leading you at every step, you reckon you can doubt the presence of God? But consider this. With God looking at you every step of the way, how long before you tak boleh tahan?
What if, in restraining Himself from interferring, it nevertheless pains Him beyond belief, the same way we, as people, let our lovers go, knowing the kind of pain and lonliness they will face without us with them?
Yet we must, because we cannot hold them back without taking away their choice to choose. We watch as our lovers go away, and we stand by and watch their every step, feel every single cut, share their joys and their woes from the sidelines, every time, pulling ourselves back from jumping in, waiting... Always waiting for them to turn around and open their arms to us, so we can jump in and sooth their pains, and kiss away their sorrows.
The pain, the agony, the absolute torture of having to hold ourselves back, even when we know we have the ability to banish it all with a wave of the hand. Consider this, and then consider what it must be like for God.
Also consider this, a lot of the time, simply because we know the reason something happens, doesn't mean that we accept it. Even if we are given irrefutable proof, does not mean we believe. Why? Cos we humans are egotistical, hard-assed, thick-headed numbskulls. It takes a rather exceptional person to change once he has been proven wrong.
In fact, someone has once said that never in history has an argument has ever been won by force of arms or logic. Why? Cos the more we MAKE someone take our point of view, whether by force, or by logic, the person will remain all the more grounded in his or her view. Don't believe it? Try convincing your mom or dad that it's ok for you to stay out late. Heck, no. Write a freaking THESIS on why it is ok for you to stay out late. Try it. Go on, see if it's gonna be worth so much toilet paper. And you wonder why God doesn't just come out and explain himself.
Sometimes, I wonder. Is it because God is silent? Or is it because we are blind and deaf? Is it, just because God doesn't answer the way we want Him to, we call God silent, cruel and unfair.
So before we start throwing dirt in the air, and screaming injustice at God, watch Bruce Almighty again. And consider this, be careful what you wish for. Because, when you get it, you might wish you have never laid eyes on it.
3 questions plagued me since I was a kid trying to defend my faith to those around me.
3 questions people ask me, and I have never been able to give a satisfactory accounting of what I believe in.
3 questions. Simple, yet most religious types in the world cringe whenever these questions get asked.
Is God Unfair?
Is God Hidden?
Is God Silent?
How many times have we ourselves asked that same question? How often have we begged for a sign that there's a higher power and that supernatural force answer in a whirlwind or in a thunderstorm?
For students, probably every time we have exams and we haven't studied. (For me, that's nearly every single exam in uni.)
In times of crisis, in times of pain and despair. We shout for divine presence to take the pain away. For our lives to be smooth, or for a sudden flash of divine intervention and we wake up, and it is all a bad dream.
And rarely does this supernatural being respond. In fact, the response is an exception rather than a norm.
And then I read a book written by a christian, "Disappointment with God". It was a present given to me by my cousin and his wife for christmas. Strange. These 2 people are staunch to the point of being anal, it's christmas, and THEY want me, the black sheep in the family, to read a book that deals with God pissing off and upsetting people? Are they NUTS?
I took a plug at it anyways. After all I finished Asimov's Foundation series, and there's nothing much else interesting on the shelves that I have not read a dozen times.
The book blew me away.
I'm not saying I immediately accept what the book says, but to answer those three questions, it poses a few more questions to present another perspective to us. Here are a few what ifs (Gen! How about it? A page from your book ;))
What if, in creating man and giving him free will, God is looking for Man to love him back, without compulsion, without Him forcing that love?
Think back to the comedy, Bruce Almighty. What is the ONE RULE that God (Morgan Freeman) told Bruce (Jim Carrey)? That Bruce can do absolutely ANYTHING but he cannot compel anyone to love him. What if God CAN change all of us into adoring puppets, but He chooses not to? What if he set us free, knowing that most will reject him, and only some will come back? Yet He loves every single one of His creation?
What if, the reason why God does not speak out in thunder and lightning, and smite the blasphemer, is because He has tried it, and instead of inspiring love, what He got was fear and a "lover" that strained to break away?
If you have ever read the Old Testament, that was what it was like for them. God was with them, every single step of the way. No ambiguity, no question about it. If you have a tame cloud pillar cum whirlwind leading you at every step, you reckon you can doubt the presence of God? But consider this. With God looking at you every step of the way, how long before you tak boleh tahan?
What if, in restraining Himself from interferring, it nevertheless pains Him beyond belief, the same way we, as people, let our lovers go, knowing the kind of pain and lonliness they will face without us with them?
Yet we must, because we cannot hold them back without taking away their choice to choose. We watch as our lovers go away, and we stand by and watch their every step, feel every single cut, share their joys and their woes from the sidelines, every time, pulling ourselves back from jumping in, waiting... Always waiting for them to turn around and open their arms to us, so we can jump in and sooth their pains, and kiss away their sorrows.
The pain, the agony, the absolute torture of having to hold ourselves back, even when we know we have the ability to banish it all with a wave of the hand. Consider this, and then consider what it must be like for God.
Also consider this, a lot of the time, simply because we know the reason something happens, doesn't mean that we accept it. Even if we are given irrefutable proof, does not mean we believe. Why? Cos we humans are egotistical, hard-assed, thick-headed numbskulls. It takes a rather exceptional person to change once he has been proven wrong.
In fact, someone has once said that never in history has an argument has ever been won by force of arms or logic. Why? Cos the more we MAKE someone take our point of view, whether by force, or by logic, the person will remain all the more grounded in his or her view. Don't believe it? Try convincing your mom or dad that it's ok for you to stay out late. Heck, no. Write a freaking THESIS on why it is ok for you to stay out late. Try it. Go on, see if it's gonna be worth so much toilet paper. And you wonder why God doesn't just come out and explain himself.
Sometimes, I wonder. Is it because God is silent? Or is it because we are blind and deaf? Is it, just because God doesn't answer the way we want Him to, we call God silent, cruel and unfair.
So before we start throwing dirt in the air, and screaming injustice at God, watch Bruce Almighty again. And consider this, be careful what you wish for. Because, when you get it, you might wish you have never laid eyes on it.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Quote by Yours Truly
Here's a quickie,
"I have realized the difference between KTVs and Geylang (the red light district in Singapore). In Geylang you get your dick stroked. In the KTV, it's your ego that gets stroked."
"I have realized the difference between KTVs and Geylang (the red light district in Singapore). In Geylang you get your dick stroked. In the KTV, it's your ego that gets stroked."
Monday, February 13, 2006
What's my major?
Always knew that Freud was copying my material... heh...
You scored as Psychology. You should be a Psychology major!
What is your Perfect Major? (PLEASE RATE ME!!) created with QuizFarm.com |
Friday, February 10, 2006
What's In A Name?
I started this a few times already. This is a topic near and dear to my heart, and every time I write, I wonder how I can bring my ideas across. Not necessary to convince, but to communicate such that the other party understands.
I have recently been trying to frame my thoughts as succintly as possible. A new interest for me, to see how few words it take to put across an idea. And as I write this, I realize that a lot of the time, the shortest and fastest way someone communicates an idea across, is a name.
The giving of a name is perhaps one of the most significant acts anyone can do.
A name defines, sets limits, shapes the same thing that it is given. A name describes, sketches in a stroke of sounds the essence of the object, what the object IS.
In almost all cultures, a child is given a birth name. That name encompasses the hopes of the parents. In giving the name to a baby, a clean slate of a new soul, the parent puts the first mark on that slate. The defining stroke, an outline of what they wish for in the child. This mark sets him apart, the first thing that this new being truly owns.
When the child grows up, in some places in the world, they're given the right to choose their adult name. I think that's good. The new adult decides what he wants to do, who he wants to be, and then from there, names himself. That name then encompass his choice of his path in life, the definition of him to himself, the description of his identity.
I was given a Christian name when I was a baby. At a time that I cannot remember, I found the meaning of my name. It means "prosperous protector". I like to tell people I try my very best to protect. I'm still working on the prosperous bit. It is not easy to live up to the name.
I try to stand up for the underdog, I attempt to help those less fortunate. I hate bullies with a passion that fills every atom of my being. Over the years, I would like to think that I have lived up to the protector part of my name. After all, I always wanted to be a superhero. Just like what Seinfeld said.
"Here's the thing on men, I'm gonna give it to you now. All men think of themselves as kind of low-level super-heroes... in their own environment. When men are growing up and they're reading about Batman, Spiderman, Superman, these aren't fantasies. These are options. This is the way men really look at their own lives. I'm not even supposed to be telling you this. I'll give you a perfect example of what I'm talking about, did you ever see a guy moving a mattress tied to the roof of his car. He's out on the highway with this thing, he's always got the arm out the window, holding the mattress too, right ? Whatever he's rigged up there, he's always helping along with the arm. This is classic male idiot super-hero thinking. This moron actually believes that if the wind catches this huge rectangle at 70 miles an hour, "I got it, I got it. Don't worry about it. I'm using my... arm !"
I have only used 3 nicknames over the years online. Each one, I spent a long long time thinking. Most are related to my real name.
Centurion - my first ever IRC nick. Eventually shortened to cent, cos that's what everyone called me.
Sentinall - Likewise, a defender. The misspelling only because Sentinel and sentinal were both taken.
Vandalin - the only name not related to the protector. It means wanderer in Old English. Why? Maybe that's how I feel much of the time. Not really tied down to a place, a free spirit. Never really belonging to a place, or to anyone.
Will I change another name as I move on through this life? Maybe, then again, maybe not. As far as the protector is concerned, well, he will never go away. Made sure of that, at least.
I have recently been trying to frame my thoughts as succintly as possible. A new interest for me, to see how few words it take to put across an idea. And as I write this, I realize that a lot of the time, the shortest and fastest way someone communicates an idea across, is a name.
The giving of a name is perhaps one of the most significant acts anyone can do.
A name defines, sets limits, shapes the same thing that it is given. A name describes, sketches in a stroke of sounds the essence of the object, what the object IS.
In almost all cultures, a child is given a birth name. That name encompasses the hopes of the parents. In giving the name to a baby, a clean slate of a new soul, the parent puts the first mark on that slate. The defining stroke, an outline of what they wish for in the child. This mark sets him apart, the first thing that this new being truly owns.
When the child grows up, in some places in the world, they're given the right to choose their adult name. I think that's good. The new adult decides what he wants to do, who he wants to be, and then from there, names himself. That name then encompass his choice of his path in life, the definition of him to himself, the description of his identity.
I was given a Christian name when I was a baby. At a time that I cannot remember, I found the meaning of my name. It means "prosperous protector". I like to tell people I try my very best to protect. I'm still working on the prosperous bit. It is not easy to live up to the name.
I try to stand up for the underdog, I attempt to help those less fortunate. I hate bullies with a passion that fills every atom of my being. Over the years, I would like to think that I have lived up to the protector part of my name. After all, I always wanted to be a superhero. Just like what Seinfeld said.
"Here's the thing on men, I'm gonna give it to you now. All men think of themselves as kind of low-level super-heroes... in their own environment. When men are growing up and they're reading about Batman, Spiderman, Superman, these aren't fantasies. These are options. This is the way men really look at their own lives. I'm not even supposed to be telling you this. I'll give you a perfect example of what I'm talking about, did you ever see a guy moving a mattress tied to the roof of his car. He's out on the highway with this thing, he's always got the arm out the window, holding the mattress too, right ? Whatever he's rigged up there, he's always helping along with the arm. This is classic male idiot super-hero thinking. This moron actually believes that if the wind catches this huge rectangle at 70 miles an hour, "I got it, I got it. Don't worry about it. I'm using my... arm !"
I have only used 3 nicknames over the years online. Each one, I spent a long long time thinking. Most are related to my real name.
Centurion - my first ever IRC nick. Eventually shortened to cent, cos that's what everyone called me.
Sentinall - Likewise, a defender. The misspelling only because Sentinel and sentinal were both taken.
Vandalin - the only name not related to the protector. It means wanderer in Old English. Why? Maybe that's how I feel much of the time. Not really tied down to a place, a free spirit. Never really belonging to a place, or to anyone.
Will I change another name as I move on through this life? Maybe, then again, maybe not. As far as the protector is concerned, well, he will never go away. Made sure of that, at least.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Spastic Behaviour on Lifts.
Have you realized that too often, people, when confronted with both an UP and DOWN button for lifts, invariably press BOTH buttons, with the perception that they'll actually reach their destination faster?
When they want to go UP, and they press both buttons. They get a lift that goes DOWN. And then they act surprised and pissed when they get into the lift, and the lift actually goes DOWN!
Idiots. Cousins to the people who press the pedestrian-crossing button on traffic lights multiple times, believing that the lights will actually change faster.
When they want to go UP, and they press both buttons. They get a lift that goes DOWN. And then they act surprised and pissed when they get into the lift, and the lift actually goes DOWN!
Idiots. Cousins to the people who press the pedestrian-crossing button on traffic lights multiple times, believing that the lights will actually change faster.
Ang Moh VS Asians
I just watched this absolutely HILARIOUS short clip.
It does, however, point out certain truisms. Men, sit up, pay fucking attention because you WILL see this material again. (Thank you Richard Marcinko)
Gentlemen, Get this.
1. It's true, Asian men often have to contend with a certain mental stereotypes that gets in the way of our sex lives.
2. This is a GOOD thing. It's how we use it. (There's always a fucking silver lining. Mr Optimism at his very best)
3. Before you go on the offensive, understand the enemy. Asian men are percieved as virtually sexless creatures by the biggest PR and culture machine in the world today. Hollywood. In my memory right now, I can only remember 1 Asian who ALMOST had a screen kiss. Jet Li with Aaliyah. Then Aaliyah died in a plane crash. Maybe it's white elitists.
4. Asian men are seen to be the stable, settle-down type who aren't a lot of fun in bed. This of course, is bollocks. We are all perfectly capable of mind-blowing, gratuitous, hedonistic sex, with no thought about anything more than the next orgasm. Ladies, admit it. There are times, where an orgasm or ten without the attached strings or guilt is more than welcum.
5. Asian men are percieved to be tight-wads who are economically less accomplished compared to the Ang Moh. This of course, is bullshit. Ask any mummy at any KTV.
6. Part of the reason of that above is probably the average ang-moh has his own place, while the average Asian man stays with the family. Probably true, till you realize that the company pays for the hotel room/apartment/condo. Still the logistical concern is probably one of the few legitimate cock-blocks that I'd admit to.
7. The exotic factor. And hence the perception of Value. Maybe yes, Maybe no. Most women are not ALL that visually inclined. Exoticism may or may NOT be a good thing.
8. Ang-Mohs are of a higher social status. BOLLOCKS. They are just damn pushy. And they hold as much "class" as WE give them. Come to think of it, if we ourselve act like we're in a higher social status ourselves, will there come a point of time, where other people around us will actually BELIEVE it?
Here's the ULTIMATE What-If. What if whatever the case may be, regardless of however much money we have in our pockets, or where we stay, the colour of our skin, we become completely comfortable with ourselves?
So much so that we walk up to ANYBODY at the bar and just strike up a conversation. So much so that when we go to the dance floor, we can just cut loose, dance, and simply fuck care what everyone else says or thinks?
What if we stop being modest, and nice, and obliging and start being cocky, even arrogant? Stand our own ground and push for our way? After all gentlemen, we know this ONE thing about women that is almost a constant throughout the known universe. They unanimously, almost NEVER say what they want. What they SAY they want, is almost always a fallacy, to us, the men, possibly as well as to themselves.
Is there any wonder at all that for some time now, any time I hear a gal say,"All I want is a nice guy..." I snort to myself, and say,"Yeah, Right."
And frankly, when I demonstrate at the drop of a hat, that I don't CARE what the other person think of the average asian male, and that tell them where they can shove their their stupid, narrow-minded typical ideas, is it any wonder why life for myself is SO much easier and possibly more fun?
Extensions of this line of reasoning include the BASTARD theory, and the worst-foot forward theory. Of which I shall cover at another time.
Peace, Out.
It does, however, point out certain truisms. Men, sit up, pay fucking attention because you WILL see this material again. (Thank you Richard Marcinko)
Gentlemen, Get this.
1. It's true, Asian men often have to contend with a certain mental stereotypes that gets in the way of our sex lives.
2. This is a GOOD thing. It's how we use it. (There's always a fucking silver lining. Mr Optimism at his very best)
3. Before you go on the offensive, understand the enemy. Asian men are percieved as virtually sexless creatures by the biggest PR and culture machine in the world today. Hollywood. In my memory right now, I can only remember 1 Asian who ALMOST had a screen kiss. Jet Li with Aaliyah. Then Aaliyah died in a plane crash. Maybe it's white elitists.
4. Asian men are seen to be the stable, settle-down type who aren't a lot of fun in bed. This of course, is bollocks. We are all perfectly capable of mind-blowing, gratuitous, hedonistic sex, with no thought about anything more than the next orgasm. Ladies, admit it. There are times, where an orgasm or ten without the attached strings or guilt is more than welcum.
5. Asian men are percieved to be tight-wads who are economically less accomplished compared to the Ang Moh. This of course, is bullshit. Ask any mummy at any KTV.
6. Part of the reason of that above is probably the average ang-moh has his own place, while the average Asian man stays with the family. Probably true, till you realize that the company pays for the hotel room/apartment/condo. Still the logistical concern is probably one of the few legitimate cock-blocks that I'd admit to.
7. The exotic factor. And hence the perception of Value. Maybe yes, Maybe no. Most women are not ALL that visually inclined. Exoticism may or may NOT be a good thing.
8. Ang-Mohs are of a higher social status. BOLLOCKS. They are just damn pushy. And they hold as much "class" as WE give them. Come to think of it, if we ourselve act like we're in a higher social status ourselves, will there come a point of time, where other people around us will actually BELIEVE it?
Here's the ULTIMATE What-If. What if whatever the case may be, regardless of however much money we have in our pockets, or where we stay, the colour of our skin, we become completely comfortable with ourselves?
So much so that we walk up to ANYBODY at the bar and just strike up a conversation. So much so that when we go to the dance floor, we can just cut loose, dance, and simply fuck care what everyone else says or thinks?
What if we stop being modest, and nice, and obliging and start being cocky, even arrogant? Stand our own ground and push for our way? After all gentlemen, we know this ONE thing about women that is almost a constant throughout the known universe. They unanimously, almost NEVER say what they want. What they SAY they want, is almost always a fallacy, to us, the men, possibly as well as to themselves.
Is there any wonder at all that for some time now, any time I hear a gal say,"All I want is a nice guy..." I snort to myself, and say,"Yeah, Right."
And frankly, when I demonstrate at the drop of a hat, that I don't CARE what the other person think of the average asian male, and that tell them where they can shove their their stupid, narrow-minded typical ideas, is it any wonder why life for myself is SO much easier and possibly more fun?
Extensions of this line of reasoning include the BASTARD theory, and the worst-foot forward theory. Of which I shall cover at another time.
Peace, Out.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Superman
In the middle of reading financial regulations... FUCK.
In the meantime, check this song out. I know, I know, it was popular. Everyone and their dog knows this song. But take a close look at the lyrics. Especially the gals.
Superman - Five For Fighting
I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
I’m just out to find
The better part of me
I’m more than a bird… I’m more than a plane
More than some pretty face beside a train
It’s not easy to be me
Wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
About a home I’ll never see
It may sound absurd…but don’t be naive
Even Heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed…but won’t you conceed
Even Heroes have the right to dream
It’s not easy to be me
Up, up and away…away from me
It’s all right…You can all sleep sound tonight
I’m not crazy…or anything…
I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
Men weren’t meant to ride
With clouds between their knees
I’m only a man in a silly red sheet
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street
Only a man in a funny red sheet
Looking for special things inside of me
It’s not easy to be me.
Come to think of it, I may have posted this before but still, it's worth a second look.
In the meantime, check this song out. I know, I know, it was popular. Everyone and their dog knows this song. But take a close look at the lyrics. Especially the gals.
Superman - Five For Fighting
I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
I’m just out to find
The better part of me
I’m more than a bird… I’m more than a plane
More than some pretty face beside a train
It’s not easy to be me
Wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
About a home I’ll never see
It may sound absurd…but don’t be naive
Even Heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed…but won’t you conceed
Even Heroes have the right to dream
It’s not easy to be me
Up, up and away…away from me
It’s all right…You can all sleep sound tonight
I’m not crazy…or anything…
I can’t stand to fly
I’m not that naive
Men weren’t meant to ride
With clouds between their knees
I’m only a man in a silly red sheet
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street
Only a man in a funny red sheet
Looking for special things inside of me
It’s not easy to be me.
Come to think of it, I may have posted this before but still, it's worth a second look.
Post New Year Thoughts.
I know I am Chinese.
Because the year for me doesn't seem to start properly till after a bout of too much food, some Ang Pows, and pyrotecnics.
Some of you already know that I got meself a tattoo just before New Year. No, I didn't get a No Entry sign on my ass, as I have said I would. It's more, meaningful. Something that I have had in my head for the longest time. Something that reflects my name.
Right now, the above-mentioned tattoo is making its presence felt, and itching like hell. AND the skin is peeling off. Just like the tattoo artist promised. The fact it's in a rather private place means that I can't really reach at it and scratch. Which probably is A Good Thing. Actually it feels like a small localized sunburn, but much more artistic. Or I'd like to think so. After all, I designed it.
Funny thing, Lunar New Year. We do things around this period that we would not do any time else. In fact, things that seem rather offensive usually seem just fine right now. I mean, think about it.
Wasting food - Have you seen Yu-sheng? This is the time where we can actually play with food, make a mess, and it's all for a good cause.
New Year Goodies - When's the last time you gorged on pineapple tarts, cakes, sweets and when's the last time your elders actually encouraged you to eat more of those unhealthy food? The Discovery Channel episode of the Alaskan Brown Bear gorging itself on salmon every year during season comes to mind. And like the bear, once satisfied, the average Chinese will not see these foods again for one whole year.
Drinking - Now this may not be common, but most of my extended family are teetotalers, at least on my dad's side. That means that they don't drink. At all. I must have gotton drinking genes from Mum's side. Anyway, this is the time where it's actually OK to booze a little. I introduced Kahlua and milk to them this year. And mum didn't throw a fit. THAT by itself is a bloody miracle.
Gambling - I will always remember that one time when I left my auntie's place. I was telling dad in the car,"Dad, it'll be damn zia-lat if the cops come now. Supposedly you can't have more than 2 tables of mahjong in the house at any one time. There's 2 tables in every room." Dad says that the cops probably won't care and that nobody's gonna get in trouble. Being young and innocent, I insisted that even if the normal cops don't care, what about the seniors, or the superintendants? The big shots will kick up a fuss if they found out that the grunts are giving biased treatment to just one house in the neighbourhood right? Dad stopped the car, turned around and looked at me. "Who do you think was playing on your grand dad's table?" Oh.
Music - Have you heard the RACKET they pass off for New Year Songs? I was actually talking to my friend and told her that I thank God that nobody has gotten creative and decided that it's a good idea to do it in RAP or RnB style. That saves me the trouble of hiding the bodies of the people who may be inspired to commit this sacrilege.
Red - Everything is in RED! ARRGH! That being said, nowadays there are less glaring shades of red and thank GOD my family's mostly christian, and as such, there is significantly less glaringly red banners around. There are some nice shades around too. Just don't ask me the colour of those shades. As far as I'm concerned, there's only bright red, dark red, and light red. That's as far as I go for red differentiation. I'll never understand how women can call red 239 different names. Seinfeld says this, and I agree... that if one goes to a cosmetic counter and ask for red, chances are that the assistant is gonna stare at you blankly and say,"I'm sorry, we don't carry that colour here."
All in all, CNY is a good excuse to meet all the family that you don't see throughout the rest of the year unless there are weddings and funerals. It is also a damn good excuse to set aside time to actually take care of all the things that you decide to put off till tomorrow. Things like cleaning out your room, paying bills, clearing clutter, et cetera et cetera.
Well, now that New Year's officially over, and it's back to work, it looks to be a truly interesting time, 2006... provided that the world doesn't end this year. Wait, that'll make it even MORE interesting, right?
Because the year for me doesn't seem to start properly till after a bout of too much food, some Ang Pows, and pyrotecnics.
Some of you already know that I got meself a tattoo just before New Year. No, I didn't get a No Entry sign on my ass, as I have said I would. It's more, meaningful. Something that I have had in my head for the longest time. Something that reflects my name.
Right now, the above-mentioned tattoo is making its presence felt, and itching like hell. AND the skin is peeling off. Just like the tattoo artist promised. The fact it's in a rather private place means that I can't really reach at it and scratch. Which probably is A Good Thing. Actually it feels like a small localized sunburn, but much more artistic. Or I'd like to think so. After all, I designed it.
Funny thing, Lunar New Year. We do things around this period that we would not do any time else. In fact, things that seem rather offensive usually seem just fine right now. I mean, think about it.
Wasting food - Have you seen Yu-sheng? This is the time where we can actually play with food, make a mess, and it's all for a good cause.
New Year Goodies - When's the last time you gorged on pineapple tarts, cakes, sweets and when's the last time your elders actually encouraged you to eat more of those unhealthy food? The Discovery Channel episode of the Alaskan Brown Bear gorging itself on salmon every year during season comes to mind. And like the bear, once satisfied, the average Chinese will not see these foods again for one whole year.
Drinking - Now this may not be common, but most of my extended family are teetotalers, at least on my dad's side. That means that they don't drink. At all. I must have gotton drinking genes from Mum's side. Anyway, this is the time where it's actually OK to booze a little. I introduced Kahlua and milk to them this year. And mum didn't throw a fit. THAT by itself is a bloody miracle.
Gambling - I will always remember that one time when I left my auntie's place. I was telling dad in the car,"Dad, it'll be damn zia-lat if the cops come now. Supposedly you can't have more than 2 tables of mahjong in the house at any one time. There's 2 tables in every room." Dad says that the cops probably won't care and that nobody's gonna get in trouble. Being young and innocent, I insisted that even if the normal cops don't care, what about the seniors, or the superintendants? The big shots will kick up a fuss if they found out that the grunts are giving biased treatment to just one house in the neighbourhood right? Dad stopped the car, turned around and looked at me. "Who do you think was playing on your grand dad's table?" Oh.
Music - Have you heard the RACKET they pass off for New Year Songs? I was actually talking to my friend and told her that I thank God that nobody has gotten creative and decided that it's a good idea to do it in RAP or RnB style. That saves me the trouble of hiding the bodies of the people who may be inspired to commit this sacrilege.
Red - Everything is in RED! ARRGH! That being said, nowadays there are less glaring shades of red and thank GOD my family's mostly christian, and as such, there is significantly less glaringly red banners around. There are some nice shades around too. Just don't ask me the colour of those shades. As far as I'm concerned, there's only bright red, dark red, and light red. That's as far as I go for red differentiation. I'll never understand how women can call red 239 different names. Seinfeld says this, and I agree... that if one goes to a cosmetic counter and ask for red, chances are that the assistant is gonna stare at you blankly and say,"I'm sorry, we don't carry that colour here."
All in all, CNY is a good excuse to meet all the family that you don't see throughout the rest of the year unless there are weddings and funerals. It is also a damn good excuse to set aside time to actually take care of all the things that you decide to put off till tomorrow. Things like cleaning out your room, paying bills, clearing clutter, et cetera et cetera.
Well, now that New Year's officially over, and it's back to work, it looks to be a truly interesting time, 2006... provided that the world doesn't end this year. Wait, that'll make it even MORE interesting, right?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)