What an AMAZING company!
I hope that one day, that I'll be able to do something like this as well.
Maybe for whiskey... hmm...
Monday, July 31, 2006
Friday, July 28, 2006
I thought I wrote about this before, but surprisingly no. I haven't put down my thoughts on the the reverence of life.
I googled the words of Dr. Albert Schweitzer strangely because I was watching an inane senseless serial on Young Indiana Jones. Here is what I found. I probably read it a dozen times already, and every time I read it, I am inspired. Again.
A couple of weeks ago, on my way to Sentosa, someone recognized me on the bus. "Excuse me, sir. Did you speak in June in Chinese High?" Damn. I'm not only a SIR, I made enough of an impact in one of the guys I talk to, for him to remember me.
Each one of those young men would probably grow up to be much better people than I am.
I admire them, because they stood up to take up the yoke of leadership.
My heart aches, because it is a long, and often lonely journey.
I am expectant, because each one of them will have an amazing life, and I wish I was around at the end of mine, to hear the stories they have to tell.
I hope I didn't screw them up TOO badly. HAH!
I googled the words of Dr. Albert Schweitzer strangely because I was watching an inane senseless serial on Young Indiana Jones. Here is what I found. I probably read it a dozen times already, and every time I read it, I am inspired. Again.
A couple of weeks ago, on my way to Sentosa, someone recognized me on the bus. "Excuse me, sir. Did you speak in June in Chinese High?" Damn. I'm not only a SIR, I made enough of an impact in one of the guys I talk to, for him to remember me.
Each one of those young men would probably grow up to be much better people than I am.
I admire them, because they stood up to take up the yoke of leadership.
My heart aches, because it is a long, and often lonely journey.
I am expectant, because each one of them will have an amazing life, and I wish I was around at the end of mine, to hear the stories they have to tell.
I hope I didn't screw them up TOO badly. HAH!
Thursday, July 27, 2006
An Interim Post
A quick update. Been busy as fark over the last few weeks, and probably gonna continue till the end of October, planning and executing something really exciting.
In the meantime, I'm onto my 3rd chapter of "The Greatest Secret in the World". I challenge ANYONE to finish reading the book and following the instructions in the book. The last time I tried, I got stuck at Chapter 2.
The way I see it, if you can complete the book, you can pretty much do ANYTHING in the world. I dare you. Try it. Only place in Singapore I can get a copy is, interestingly at San Bookstore.
Would YOU test your determination to succeed for $15?
Thursday, July 20, 2006
A Lil Piece of Latin America
Went for my first Brazilian.
No, not woman. That one is in the works. Brazilian WAX.
The pain is overrated. Really.
NO, I'm not posting pictures. If you wanna see, find a way to get my pants off.
No, not woman. That one is in the works. Brazilian WAX.
The pain is overrated. Really.
NO, I'm not posting pictures. If you wanna see, find a way to get my pants off.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Saving the World from Impotence
Seen on the notice board of a university in Hong Kong. The next step from Viagra, press a button cures for all your penile dysfunctions.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Slavery in the 21st Century
You'd think that slavery is dead, that all the rantings of the African-Americans are just leftovers from history.
Not true.
A friend from Myanmmar contacted me on Friday. I of course, am ecstatic. Having spent 2 months in the place, and experiencing first hand the lovely people and the fucked-up government, I am always excited when I hear any of my old colleagues who took such good care of me when I was a measly intern escape the place.
When I met my mate for dinner. The story came out. And believe me, I was angry beyond words. Not just pissed. Not just fed-up. But a cold, intense flame ignited, and slowly grew hotter as he carried on with his story.
To come to Singapore, my friend paid $3,700 to an "agent", who's suppose to get him an employment pass and a job in Singapore. To the average Burmese, that's 1 ENTIRE year's salary. To raise that amount, he borrowed the bulk of it from money lenders, and his family raised the rest.
In Singapore, he got his employment pass. But his employer fired him and revoked his pass 2 months into the job. Since then the "agent" arranged a 1 month part time job for him, where he made minimal wage, put him up in a tiny apartment somewhere about town where he pays $130 a month to share a sleeping space with thirty. That's right folks, 3 0 other people. 1 toilet.
He hardly understands English, can barely communicate, much less navigate the intricacies of the Singapore Immigration Laws. He is trying his best to find a job that'll sponsor his employment permit, and he's just a tad too innocent, even for Singapore society.
I looked through all his documents over dinner. All he had are 2 phone numbers for his so-called "agent". After the first job, all the agent did, was to get him an extension on his social visit pass, and made him to a stint as a waiter, albeit illegally.
I. AM. ANGRY.
To me, this is the equivalent of trafficking in human currency. Bringing a person to a foreign land, leaving him to die. And forcing him into a corner like this, then ditching him.
Devasatating another human's life like that, earning blood money, I don't know how they sleep at night.
But when I finally hunt them down, somebody will pay.
Not true.
A friend from Myanmmar contacted me on Friday. I of course, am ecstatic. Having spent 2 months in the place, and experiencing first hand the lovely people and the fucked-up government, I am always excited when I hear any of my old colleagues who took such good care of me when I was a measly intern escape the place.
When I met my mate for dinner. The story came out. And believe me, I was angry beyond words. Not just pissed. Not just fed-up. But a cold, intense flame ignited, and slowly grew hotter as he carried on with his story.
To come to Singapore, my friend paid $3,700 to an "agent", who's suppose to get him an employment pass and a job in Singapore. To the average Burmese, that's 1 ENTIRE year's salary. To raise that amount, he borrowed the bulk of it from money lenders, and his family raised the rest.
In Singapore, he got his employment pass. But his employer fired him and revoked his pass 2 months into the job. Since then the "agent" arranged a 1 month part time job for him, where he made minimal wage, put him up in a tiny apartment somewhere about town where he pays $130 a month to share a sleeping space with thirty. That's right folks, 3 0 other people. 1 toilet.
He hardly understands English, can barely communicate, much less navigate the intricacies of the Singapore Immigration Laws. He is trying his best to find a job that'll sponsor his employment permit, and he's just a tad too innocent, even for Singapore society.
I looked through all his documents over dinner. All he had are 2 phone numbers for his so-called "agent". After the first job, all the agent did, was to get him an extension on his social visit pass, and made him to a stint as a waiter, albeit illegally.
I. AM. ANGRY.
To me, this is the equivalent of trafficking in human currency. Bringing a person to a foreign land, leaving him to die. And forcing him into a corner like this, then ditching him.
Devasatating another human's life like that, earning blood money, I don't know how they sleep at night.
But when I finally hunt them down, somebody will pay.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Good Ole Days
Had an online conversation on MSN with an African in US, a Mexican in Mexico, and a Canadian in Singapore, reminicing about the good ole days of yore.
They were the single craziest bunch of exchange students I have ever met, and the most united. It was a bond forged over Tiger beer and other alcoholic beverages, parties and a ton of pictures.
That, and one man made it all possible. My Man Kamil. The organizer of mayhem, the orchestrator of joy, and the chief chronicler of the memories.
Thanks dude, for raising the bar, and the amazing time that I had with you guys. It would never have been possible without you. You still are the best party organizer I have ever met.
They were the single craziest bunch of exchange students I have ever met, and the most united. It was a bond forged over Tiger beer and other alcoholic beverages, parties and a ton of pictures.
That, and one man made it all possible. My Man Kamil. The organizer of mayhem, the orchestrator of joy, and the chief chronicler of the memories.
Thanks dude, for raising the bar, and the amazing time that I had with you guys. It would never have been possible without you. You still are the best party organizer I have ever met.
The memories of those six months will always be with me.
Monday, July 03, 2006
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