Observations through the whiskey glass
Friday, February 25, 2005
So long, and thanks for all the silicon boobs!
Just found out they are gonna pull the plug on Days of Our Lives on tv here... thanks to laughingcow.
No more plastic boobs to distract me from the leveling mill of DAOC during late nights... Fellow guildies, please pardon me when I fall asleep the next time you guys are power leveling me... Blame it on Mediacorp TV Channel 5...
No more fake boobs! No more women with cracked faces! No more evil men who turned good, then evil again, then good, then evil, then got all confused! No more hourglass with a deep voice booming: "And these are the days of our lives.."
Argghhh.... I am suffering from DOOL withdrawal already...
Someone please shoot me.
Just found out they are gonna pull the plug on Days of Our Lives on tv here... thanks to laughingcow.
No more plastic boobs to distract me from the leveling mill of DAOC during late nights... Fellow guildies, please pardon me when I fall asleep the next time you guys are power leveling me... Blame it on Mediacorp TV Channel 5...
No more fake boobs! No more women with cracked faces! No more evil men who turned good, then evil again, then good, then evil, then got all confused! No more hourglass with a deep voice booming: "And these are the days of our lives.."
Argghhh.... I am suffering from DOOL withdrawal already...
Someone please shoot me.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
The Player
I was on my way to the pub when it happened. My mind was engaged, trying hard to flush work-related thoughts out so I could enjoy my pints peacefully at the bar. Maybe that was why I didn't notice her earlier...
It was her eyes... A rare pale blue pair of enthralling eyes that drew me in... I stopped in my tracks to admire her curves when I saw her lounging there.
She sashayed over confidently and teased me with her seductive voice. I sat down next to her against my will, totally absorbed into the bottomless pit of her alluring eyes. A tiny voice cried out from the back of my mind that I was late for my appointment. She moved herself closer to me, caressing me with her soft, petite body. The tiny voice was crushed into oblivion...
Just when I was totally bewitched by her attention and proximity, she turned around and sped off towards a man who just got out of his BMW.
I sighed in resignation, stood up, and continued my walk to the pub with a bruised ego.
I still seem not to have learnt after all these years, after so many encounters with her type. They are like beautiful butterflies, flitting from one flower to another, without pattern. If you are involved with them, your joy and happiness is very much dependent on their whims and desires. It's in their blood... tantalising, graceful, short attention span..
I am only left with the sweet memory of her lying next to me, with that look in her eyes...
I was on my way to the pub when it happened. My mind was engaged, trying hard to flush work-related thoughts out so I could enjoy my pints peacefully at the bar. Maybe that was why I didn't notice her earlier...
It was her eyes... A rare pale blue pair of enthralling eyes that drew me in... I stopped in my tracks to admire her curves when I saw her lounging there.
She sashayed over confidently and teased me with her seductive voice. I sat down next to her against my will, totally absorbed into the bottomless pit of her alluring eyes. A tiny voice cried out from the back of my mind that I was late for my appointment. She moved herself closer to me, caressing me with her soft, petite body. The tiny voice was crushed into oblivion...
Just when I was totally bewitched by her attention and proximity, she turned around and sped off towards a man who just got out of his BMW.
I sighed in resignation, stood up, and continued my walk to the pub with a bruised ego.
I still seem not to have learnt after all these years, after so many encounters with her type. They are like beautiful butterflies, flitting from one flower to another, without pattern. If you are involved with them, your joy and happiness is very much dependent on their whims and desires. It's in their blood... tantalising, graceful, short attention span..
I am only left with the sweet memory of her lying next to me, with that look in her eyes...
Monday, February 21, 2005
Some are more equal then others.
Tax on cigarettes went up a couple day's ago again. Some brands have finally gone pass the S$10/- mark. The reaction from the smoking population ranged from a friend changing her MSN Messenger nick to something like '$11 dollars for a pack of cigarettes...WTF!!!', to the look of resignation on a stranger's face at the store when he was told of the hike.
Let's attempt to see why the authorities have been squeezing the last cent out of us poor smokers' pockets.
1. When the tax on tobacco goes up like 3-4 times a year recently, the authorities are basically just trying to encourage us to quit smoking as it is bad for our health (and our loved ones' too). Smokers KNOW and feel guilty every time they light up a new cigarette, that they are harming someone's life. That is why they will not dare to revolt even if the cost of a pack of 20s cost S$100/-.
2. Tobacco is a luxury product. At times like this when the economy is not at its healthiest state, it is only fair that those who have the money to spend on luxuries like tobacco do their part for the country. Note: Luxury cars with their noxious fumes and high end audio equipment that sounds best when they are played at decibels that endanger the eardrums, are not taxed as much as these folks who spend on such are usually more liable to write to the press to complain about the hike.
3. Tobacco consumers usually have a shorter lifespan thereby would rather spend their remaining precious time enjoying life rather then revolt or complain.
4. At the same time we are contributing to the funds that the government is investing in China to increase our national reserves.
Conclusion:
Smokers here should all be given a martyr's burial for contributing silently most of their lives to the country, marching on stalwartly against all the misconception non-smokers have of us. We should all ride into the sunset, holding our heads high, like the quiet heros in old western flicks.
Tax on cigarettes went up a couple day's ago again. Some brands have finally gone pass the S$10/- mark. The reaction from the smoking population ranged from a friend changing her MSN Messenger nick to something like '$11 dollars for a pack of cigarettes...WTF!!!', to the look of resignation on a stranger's face at the store when he was told of the hike.
Let's attempt to see why the authorities have been squeezing the last cent out of us poor smokers' pockets.
1. When the tax on tobacco goes up like 3-4 times a year recently, the authorities are basically just trying to encourage us to quit smoking as it is bad for our health (and our loved ones' too). Smokers KNOW and feel guilty every time they light up a new cigarette, that they are harming someone's life. That is why they will not dare to revolt even if the cost of a pack of 20s cost S$100/-.
2. Tobacco is a luxury product. At times like this when the economy is not at its healthiest state, it is only fair that those who have the money to spend on luxuries like tobacco do their part for the country. Note: Luxury cars with their noxious fumes and high end audio equipment that sounds best when they are played at decibels that endanger the eardrums, are not taxed as much as these folks who spend on such are usually more liable to write to the press to complain about the hike.
3. Tobacco consumers usually have a shorter lifespan thereby would rather spend their remaining precious time enjoying life rather then revolt or complain.
4. At the same time we are contributing to the funds that the government is investing in China to increase our national reserves.
Conclusion:
Smokers here should all be given a martyr's burial for contributing silently most of their lives to the country, marching on stalwartly against all the misconception non-smokers have of us. We should all ride into the sunset, holding our heads high, like the quiet heros in old western flicks.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Pure and White My Ass
Why do we always associate white with purity and innocence? 'pure and white'; 'virgin white' etc???
White is the least pure of all colours. In fact it the most corrupt colour since it is made up of the whole spectrum mixed together.
Now, black is different. Black is the total absence of colour. So isn't that pure? Shouldn't that symbolise innocence?
/rant off.
back to work.
Why do we always associate white with purity and innocence? 'pure and white'; 'virgin white' etc???
White is the least pure of all colours. In fact it the most corrupt colour since it is made up of the whole spectrum mixed together.
Now, black is different. Black is the total absence of colour. So isn't that pure? Shouldn't that symbolise innocence?
/rant off.
back to work.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Happy Sick Valentine's Day
Was down with a bad throat and spinning head(or is it the world around me that was spinning out of control?). Slept the whole day and woke up in the evening to discover two puddles of puke in the living room. Cat is apparently sick too. Sigh.
I sat on the sofa and lit a cigarette, willing time to fly so that I can go to the clinic to get myself doctored. (Clinic was closed for dinner). Cat jumped on my lap and gave me a weak inquisitive meow.
"Ya, I am ok, just physically sick. How about you?" I replied, stroking his head gently. He closed his eyes and purred in satisfaction.
One hour later, I was standing at the clinic, waiting for my medication, when she walked into the clinic. Apparently she saw me there when she was in a cab, on her way home. After collecting the bags of pills, I walked her home but we ended up at a coffeeshop nearby eating dinner.
It makes me wonder, God's sick sense of humour. How things were supposed to have ended. How I wished to spend Valentine's Day with her, in vain. And how we ended up taking dinner together, on the actual day, not celebrating Valentine's Day.
Was down with a bad throat and spinning head(or is it the world around me that was spinning out of control?). Slept the whole day and woke up in the evening to discover two puddles of puke in the living room. Cat is apparently sick too. Sigh.
I sat on the sofa and lit a cigarette, willing time to fly so that I can go to the clinic to get myself doctored. (Clinic was closed for dinner). Cat jumped on my lap and gave me a weak inquisitive meow.
"Ya, I am ok, just physically sick. How about you?" I replied, stroking his head gently. He closed his eyes and purred in satisfaction.
One hour later, I was standing at the clinic, waiting for my medication, when she walked into the clinic. Apparently she saw me there when she was in a cab, on her way home. After collecting the bags of pills, I walked her home but we ended up at a coffeeshop nearby eating dinner.
It makes me wonder, God's sick sense of humour. How things were supposed to have ended. How I wished to spend Valentine's Day with her, in vain. And how we ended up taking dinner together, on the actual day, not celebrating Valentine's Day.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Hole in the pocket
Dreamt that the mother died. Woke up with tears in my eyes, a deep sense of regret that she moved on without us having a chance to clarify our differences that spanned the thirty over years of my life.
Will I ever have a fruitful relationship with any woman, if I missed the opportunity, if I fail to mend this hole in my pocket?
Dreamt that the mother died. Woke up with tears in my eyes, a deep sense of regret that she moved on without us having a chance to clarify our differences that spanned the thirty over years of my life.
Will I ever have a fruitful relationship with any woman, if I missed the opportunity, if I fail to mend this hole in my pocket?
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Shed a tear for the paper napkin
When you were in grief,
you sobbed,
you reached for the packet of tissue...
When you were ill,
you sniffed,
you reached for the packet of tissue...
Aftter you finished your meal,
you burped,
you reached for the packet of tissue again...
Have you ever given the crumpled paper napkin a thought?
Have you ever voiced a prayer of appreciation?
Have you ever shed a tear for the stained piece of tissue
lying forgotten in the corner?
When you were in grief,
you sobbed,
you reached for the packet of tissue...
When you were ill,
you sniffed,
you reached for the packet of tissue...
Aftter you finished your meal,
you burped,
you reached for the packet of tissue again...
Have you ever given the crumpled paper napkin a thought?
Have you ever voiced a prayer of appreciation?
Have you ever shed a tear for the stained piece of tissue
lying forgotten in the corner?
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Nobody's Child
Had a major fight with my sister last night. Something that ended with me saying:
"Do you think only you have been trying? I have been trying in my own way too! Bah! Forget it, to hell with family!!!"
As I was sitting on the sofa later in the night, tears welling in my eyes, knowing that that was it...I had practically disowned what they call a family that I had.
An old song started playing in my head as my vision blurred. The image of me as a kid squatting at a corner of the room crying alone floated out of the dark closet where the skeletons of my life were supposed to be permanently locked away. It was a song that I identified with as a kid, one of the two songs that never fail to make me cry. It was a song long buried under the sands of time. A song that brought lots of pain. (The other one is Anak.)
Nobody's Child
As I was slowly passing
an orphan's home one day,
I stopped for just a little while
to watch the children play.
Alone a boy was standing
and when I asked him why,
he turned with eyes that could not see
and he began to cry.
I'm nobody's child,
I'm nobody's child.
Just like the flowers
I'm growing wild.
I got no mummy's kisses
I got no daddy's smile.
Nobody wants me,
I'm nobody's child.
No mummy's arms to hold me
or soothe me when I cry,
'cos sometimes I feel so lonesome
I wish that I could die.
I'll walk the streets of heaven
where all blinds can see.
And just like for the other kids
it will be a home for me.
I'm nobody's child,
I'm nobody's child.
Just like the flowers
I'm growing wild.
I got no mummy's kisses
I got no daddy's smile.
Nobody wants me,
I'm nobody's child.
(PS. If anyone can find the MP3 of this song, please let me know. thanks.)
Had a major fight with my sister last night. Something that ended with me saying:
"Do you think only you have been trying? I have been trying in my own way too! Bah! Forget it, to hell with family!!!"
As I was sitting on the sofa later in the night, tears welling in my eyes, knowing that that was it...I had practically disowned what they call a family that I had.
An old song started playing in my head as my vision blurred. The image of me as a kid squatting at a corner of the room crying alone floated out of the dark closet where the skeletons of my life were supposed to be permanently locked away. It was a song that I identified with as a kid, one of the two songs that never fail to make me cry. It was a song long buried under the sands of time. A song that brought lots of pain. (The other one is Anak.)
Nobody's Child
As I was slowly passing
an orphan's home one day,
I stopped for just a little while
to watch the children play.
Alone a boy was standing
and when I asked him why,
he turned with eyes that could not see
and he began to cry.
I'm nobody's child,
I'm nobody's child.
Just like the flowers
I'm growing wild.
I got no mummy's kisses
I got no daddy's smile.
Nobody wants me,
I'm nobody's child.
No mummy's arms to hold me
or soothe me when I cry,
'cos sometimes I feel so lonesome
I wish that I could die.
I'll walk the streets of heaven
where all blinds can see.
And just like for the other kids
it will be a home for me.
I'm nobody's child,
I'm nobody's child.
Just like the flowers
I'm growing wild.
I got no mummy's kisses
I got no daddy's smile.
Nobody wants me,
I'm nobody's child.
(PS. If anyone can find the MP3 of this song, please let me know. thanks.)
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previous posts
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- ME!!! ME!!!
- At times like these
- 1963
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misc
sites i visit
blogs i read
- firecow
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- jackal
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- eck
- whyistheplatypus
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- alexandra
- laughingcow
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