Friday, December 30, 2005

Festive Shit

I hate the festive seasons. I hate the fact that I'm expected to be doing something happening in order to make these festive holidays a worth-while one.

Every year around the 20th and 29th December or 29th Dec, everyone I run into would be asking me what I'll be planning for Christmas day or new year. And when I come out with an answer that's less impressive than the likes of downing 10 tequilla shots and dancing the night away on the slut platform at the hottest club in town, I'll usually get the "But you're supposed to be having heaps of fun, why not go do something???" or "You mean you're not gonna go for countdown??"

I'm annoyed really. I mean, why can't I just vegetate at home and watch DVD and play Mario Kart on the Playstation? Why is it that if I do my usual ubiquitous lazy sunday routine of chilling out by doing nothing, I'm considered wasting these holidays away?? It's such a stupid thing really. To start with, Christmas has totally lost its meaning. It's supposed to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ (whom ironically wasn't born on the 25 December, in fact, some say he's not even born in the month of December) but it's become some overly commercialized shit where everyone uses it as an excuse to spend,shop, get pissed drunk and eat heaps of hormone-jabbed turkey. It is so-called the season of joy and giving they say. And you also see many countries spending tons of money on Christmas lights plus the electricity to power it. It's very nice of course but then why are we only sharing joy and gift among those that we know? How about instead of pumping millions of dollar decorating the city, we donate those millions to the third world and people who's never even dreamt of smelling the aroma of roast stuffed turkey?

And this whole new year count down shit. What's with the crap about "oh it's a new beginning?". I don't believe in it cos time doesn't stop for you and you can't afford to wait for the end of one calendar year to reflect on what you've done so far cos what if you die tomorrow and never get to see the next year? Again, I see it as an excuse for self indulgence on booze and food. It's so meaningless.

So here you go. I'll try not to ask someone what they're planning for Christmas or New Year cos somehow I still get sucked into the habit of asking. I'll try to stop it for now.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Tabloid Junkie

I need rehab badly! I guess tabloid's got to do with the slow disappearance of my blog cos I've been spending way too much time finding out what Paris, Nicole, Jessica, Lindsay, Brat and Jennifer are up to. Yup, I'm almost at first name basis with the celebs thanks to my daily dose of trashy tabloid gossips.

I remember it all started on the day of London bombing in July. I was stuck in an apartment in Westminster and sick of watching the replay of frantic people dashing out of the tube station the umpteenth time (they just never had up-to-the minute update), I've innocently picked up a copy of tabloid. And then like they all say, the rest is history. I'm hooked.

Everytime I picked up a copy of tabloid and start reading, I get a major rush and I read it cover to cover while polluting my mind with the who's sleeping with whom of hollywood. First, it's a once weekly dose of New Weekly (the Aussie version, it's the best and most updated) but before I know it, my addiction has pushed me to a twice weekly dose of New Weekly and Who (also the Aussie version) magazine. I can't seem to get enough. And now, I'm on my twice a day habit of and

I can never quite survive a day without my daily fix of tabloid and I'm forever itching for the next fix. It seems that tabloid makes me forget about all my problems by bringing me into this whole vicarious world of hollywood glitz, glamour and gossips. It's a great distraction especially when you're desperately trying to get over the day's frustration or PMS. It's that vouyeur in me that constantly craves cos I'm perpetually curious about how other people live their lives. Probably becos I'm not quite sure how life is supposed to be actually.

Thing is, I probably never wanna go into rehab for tabloid addiction cos I just need it for my own sanity. It's bad I know but then again, a bit of bad stuff is good for the system (or not?). And I've proudly bought myself a tee shirt that reads "Tabloid Junkie" and paraded in it in full glory yesterday. Now, gimme more tabloid!!

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

The Stress of Impending Birthday

Ahhhhh....I've taken such a long hiatus from my blog and now I've got my shit together and it seems like I'm back in business.

Thing is, I'm getting a tad nervous about this coming Sunday cos it's my 27th birthday. Much as I love birthdays cos it's such an excuse to do lavish decadent stuff like buying yourself 10 pairs of new shoes, I have to say I absolutely don't like birthdays. Okay, that's an understatement. I fucking hate birthdays.

Apart from the fact that I'm getting older and officially in the late 20s category, I hate birthdays cos I've been rather jinxed when it comes to birthdays. So far, ever since I've moved to this tiny island of durian eaters, I've never really had a decent birthday. Well, that's another understatement actually, especially when I can remember rather vividly the many rather disasterous ones that I've had in the recent years.

To start with, back to the time when I was still in school, my birthday was never remembered nor celebrated cos it happens to fall under the ungodly time of the exam periods. So nobody really remembered and bring out that cheapskate in me, I would tell you that I lost out most of the time cos I would chip some money to buy my friends present but then when it came to my birthday, I received nothing cos everyone was just too busy mugging away in the stinky school canteen and overcrowded stuffy library.

Then roll the years forward to 2003. That's possibly the worst birthday ever cos while in the midst of my "happy pills therapy" (read: popping anti-depressant), I was also in the raw painful state of a really awful breakup. I remember me and my colleagues went to Zouk for the 50 Most Eligible Bachelors event. It's a cheapskate way to celebrate birthday thanks to the free booze. But after a dozen of vodka cranberry later, even those semi-naked, 6-pec baring, booty gyrating hunks wouldn't do it for me. I felt like a mess and total cow dung cos Zouk was the place where I met my ex. I felt so shitty that I was suicidal and that was the closest I've ever been to really slashing my own skinny wrist and downing a totally unglam hard-to-swallow cocktail of Dettol and Panadol. It was simply traumatic.

Then last year...yet another shitty birthday. A couple of months before my birthday, I met some fucking asshole uncle-fucking bastard who was toying with my emotions. And as an attempt to not get let down by the uncle-fucking asshole and a desperate measure to escape my jinxed birthday fate, I fled to Ubud in Bali all by myself and spent birthday there. Okay, it was painful at first but I must say I ended up having heaps of fun with a bunch of nice strangers from all over the world in the most amazing jazz pub I've ever been to.

Thing is, it seems like spending birthdays with strangers is the best remedy to escape lousy birthdays cos when strangers are concerned, there's absolutely no expectation. You'll never expect them to know it's your birthday, let alone buy you a present and cake to smash your pretty little face in.

So here the stressful bit came. I have no runaway plan this birthday and the impending B-Day is causing me some anxiety which results in some pretty strong laxative effect the moment I think about it. Already, it's a bit of a let down to start with cos as I thought my mom actually flew in for my birthday this year (after realizing that she hasn't done anything for my birthdays for years!), she told me that she's gonna go to Batam this Sunday (?????). What a major let down. And with a new man who never quite has the habit of celebrating birthdays, I'm just scared shitless what kind of freak show material this birthday's gonna present me with. Gosh, I almost feel the need to log on now and book another ticket to run off to Ubud again!! But there's really no running away this time. And I guess I'll just have to face my official "late 20s" birthday with much gusto. I hate it. I seriously do. I'm so not looking forward to it. It's seriously stressing me up so much that I'm really dreading it.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Ugly folks need not apply!

It's outrageous! I was reading the papers (yup, again!) and there's this article that talks about this website called the Well, as the name suggests, it's got lots of beautiful people in there. The catch is that, to join the community, you gotta put your picture on the net and be judged by your physical attractiveness. For 3 days, you'll receive votes from voters. It's essentially a "Hot or Not" thing whereby you get ousted out and rejected of membership if you don't gather enough "You're Hot!" votes.

What the hell is that?? Isn't that discrimination to its max? I don't understand why some people would happily put their own pictures and be judged by the public. What's disturbing is that in the article, the founder of the website (some moron Denmark guy named Claus Kroyer) says that there're obsessed individuals who keep trying and sending pictures after getting rejected by the website over and over again. Some boost a whopping 30 to 40 tries and the real extremists even went for plastic surgery just to get a better chance of getting into the beautiful people club. What the fuck is wrong with these people? And what the fuck is wrong with this Claus Kroyer who started this stupid club?

It's just so wrong!! How can you judge beauty by mere physical appearance? Beauty is such a complex thing that goes beyond how you look. Just look at Mother Teresa, is she drop-dead gorgeous? No. But is there beauty in what she's done for the poor kids in India? Abso-fucking-lutely YES! And what's the chance of her making to the apart from the obvious fact that she's now dead? Zero! So you tell me, Mr. Kroyer, what kind of lame message are you trying to spread???

It's sad to see how society judge everything based on superficial qualities. It's just pathetic. And to propagate this kind of values simply means that Mr. Kroyer deserves two very tight slaps on his supposedly beautiful face.

If you think hard about it, these bunch of supposedly beautiful buffoons are kinda insecure if you ask me. I mean why the hell do you need people to verify that you're beautiful if you're really secure and confident about youself? By doing it, it's just to boost your own ego and make yourself feel good by thinking that "oh yes, I made it, I'm gorgeous and I'm part of the IT group". But the thing is that, really confident and secure people don't require anymore ego boost cos they naturally feel adequate themselves. Well, not to mention the fact that there's a monthly membership fee of $10 for female and $30 for male. Seriously, why do you need to pay some Mr. Kroyer some money to verify that they're beautiful? It's such a stupid thing cos first, you put yourself up for people to openly judge you, then not feeling that you're doing yourself injustice nor loving yourself enough to feel that you don't need strangers to judge you, you happily pay some Denmark dude money every month to maintain your status as a beautiful person. Seriously, it sounds more like stupidity than beauty to me.

Well, Mr. Kroyer, perhaps your pathetic little website should more aptly named as

Thursday, July 28, 2005

Things that I'm sick of

I'm sick of people killing each other in the name of religion.
I'm sick of terrorists bombing and destroying in the name of religion.
I'm sick of suicide bombers thinking that they're doing good and their death and hundreds more are for a better cause.
I'm sick of seeing 6-month-old babies and young children getting raped by their parents and other paedophilic monsters.
I'm sick of children getting sold and traded into prostitution.
I'm sick of the US army humiliating and abusing prisoners and robbed them of their dignity.
I'm sick of the rich nations not doing much and paying lip services to help the third world while jacking up the third world debts.
I'm sick of rich nations exploiting the third world with unfair trading and exploitations.
I'm sick of domestic violence where women get beaten into pieces.
I'm sick of women getting sold and conned into brothels.
I'm sick of animal abuse and the human exploitation of animals.
I'm sick of the lack of respect for our environment and excessive use and disposal of plastic bags.
I'm sick of the marginalization of minority groups by most governments (especially the Chinese government).
I'm sick of the misuse of world funds to make the rich richer and the poor poorer.
I'm sick of people's lack of awareness of what's going on to other parts of the world and other human beings.
I'm sick of people's apathy towards those who needs help and aids.
I'm sick of people's compassion fatigue and diffusion of responsibility.
I'm sick of power struggle of country authorities that in turn suffer the mass public.
I'm sick of the human sexual perversity.
I'm sick of the slow and gradual acceptance of sexual perversity being the mainstream "normal" stuff. (how else do you explain that the sickos get so bored by every single sexual perversity that they have to rape their own kids for thrill and sexual gratification?)
I'm sick of people wasting food and living in excess luxury while millions of others are starving.
I'm sick of spousal infidelity that results in emotional scars and damage.
I'm sick of seeing extreme poverty that's been ignored.

I'm sick of the brutality human beings are capable of.

Reading Newspaper Sucks!

If it's not to relief boredom at work while I slack off and count down to my last day at work, I wouldn't even laid hands on the newspaper! I've always hated reading the newspaper and today, after mulling over today's paper for a good one hour, it's just reconfirmed my disgust for newspaper.

Honestly, it's not so much about the concept of newspaper that puts me but the kind of sick, disturbing shit inside that sickens me. Maybe the title for this entry would more appropriately be named "This World Sucks!" cos everytime I'm done with reading the news, I would go into a mini depression episode for the fact that so many sick and disgusting stuff happened everyday.

Today's worst headlines:
Dogs used to threaten Abu Ghraib inmates
Long Jail terms meted out in French child sex trial

Seriously, stuff like the above challenges the morality of the entire human race and simply reinforces my belief that the fucking human race is the worst living specie on this planet. It upsets me so much everytime I turn the pages to read on the kind of brutality happened everywhere, all caused by us, the human race. What has happened to our conscience? The one thing that supposedly set up apart from animals and thus, making us supposedly the best in the animal kingdom. I'm seriously sick of getting all these grim and cold news. Is there a day where I'm gonna wake up to good news all over the pages?

Well, I guess we all know what the answer is..........

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

It's official!! I have permenant post-holiday disorder!

Oh no...I'm kinda doomed cos I still catch myself reminiscing my UK+Spain holiday and it's been two weeks since I've got back to boring Durian land but I'm still thinking very fondly of the land of fish'n'chips and seafood paella! It's official! I probably have permenant post-holiday disorder cos it's been two weeks since I got back from my long break but I'm still not functioning well! (obviously having a "fuck-care" attitude while counting down to my last day at my lousy and pathetic company really doesn't help!)

Thing is, with a daily view that looked something like this while I'm there:

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Or goofing around, laughing and striking silly spastic poses while exploring new place like this:

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How is it possible for anyone to recover from the post holidays blue?? It really sucks! Peril of having too much of a good time! Somebody please help me cos I've tasted heaven and now I'm stuck in demi-hell (to say that it's total hell would be utterly ingrateful on my part cos yes, I know I have a living situation much much better than most)! Now I can't think of anything but my next trip...again, nevermind the bloody piling credit card debts! Argh!

Now here're what I want on my Christmas list: 24 months bonus and one year sabatical leave!

Thursday, July 21, 2005

Separation Anxiety

I'm feeling rather moody. Not just because I'm having the post-holiday blues following my 17-day trip to London and Spain but also largely because I'm having a bit of separation anxiety now.

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The trip was great not just because the places I went too was fantastic but the people that I was with were awesome. I totally enjoy basking into the company of people. I went on this holiday with my boyfriend and his cousins and they're absolutely fun and fantastic people to hang out with. Quite an excellent change from my current isolated work environment and living arrangement. I simply thrive on the company of good people.

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Now I'm back to my usual arrangement and I feel totally isolated. I miss having someone around and not being alone. I'm okay on my own and definitely not one of those whiny chicks who say they don't dare to sleep alone with nobody around cos I've been by myself since I was 15. It's just that I love having company cos I'm more of a social organism than lone ranger.

This makes me rather family-sick (well, I try to refrain from using the term "homesick" cos I don't have a very good sense of what home is anyway). I miss my family. I miss the days where I go home to my parents and doting grandma. I miss having home-cooked meals and tv time with my parents. I miss going to the supermarket for grocery shopping with my dad. I miss driving out for sunday lunch with my folks. I miss going for a good slurpy bowl of side-street wonton noodle with my parents. In short, I simply miss everything family cos I'm sick and tired of living alone away from my family.

Argh...I should stop complaining really....I should go for retail therapy...nevermind the hefty credit card debt...whatever!!!

Monday, June 27, 2005

Is Hollywood ever gonna get it right??

I watched the latest Batman movie yesterday and it's the best Batman they've made so far. Nice realistic plot and true to comic milieu of Batman. BUT, I have only one complaint.

Is Holly fucking Wood ever gonna get the oriental culture right??????

Bits of the movie involved Bruce Wayne escaping from a prison in China and he was instructed to venture up the snow-caped mountain in what looks like the Northern bit of China (looks sort of like Mongolia or Tibet). I'm pretty dead sure it's in China cos the Chinese prisoners where Bruce spoke in Chinese. But then when he got up to the snowy mountain, Bruce Wayne met some Japanese ninja master and there're in fact a bunch of ninjas. Now isn't that strange or what????? Japanese ninja on a Chinese mountain???????? Hello Hollywood???? Though we Chinese and Japanese have yellow skin but Japan is an ocean away from China!! I simply can't believe it!

What really amazes and amuses me is the fact that in the movie, the Chinese prisoners in the cell actually spoke perfect English. So did the Chinese tribes who lived on the foot of that snow-caped mountain.

Why? Oh why must Holly fucking Wood americanized and westernized the oriental to the point that it doesn't make sense??? You don't see the ang mohs in Asian movies speaking Chinese or other Asian languages do you? Well, ocassionally you do, but it's simply not the norm!

American simply americanize every single damn thing and it really shits me! I remember watching Enemy At The Gates which features the war between the Germans and Russians during the Stalin regime. Hunky Dory Jude Law played the famous Russian sniper Vasili Ziesafv (pardon me for my spelling cos I have no idea how to spell it) while Joseph Finnes play some German soldier hunting after Jude and no prize for guessing what lauguage the two conversed in! They spoke in English!!!!??? Okay, fine, whatever! You might say but they're Germans and Russians! Perhaps English really is the common language but then the problem is, the Germans spoke to other Germans in the film in English while the Russians converse with their commrades in fluent English too!How ridiculous???? I simply can't stand it!

What is wrong with Hollywood?? Time to check your facts buddy!!! And stop globalizing the whole world and eating into different culture the American way cos it sucks! Especially with a dumb President like Bush! The rest of the world might not want too much association with that. Enough is enough!

Friday, June 24, 2005

Men's Magazine, Stupid Straight Men and Alluring Gay Men

I finally figure out why my gay friend, Nic, would always be the perfect man in my eyes! Apart from his to-die-for swimmer bod (Woohoo! My temperature rises simply by thinking of it!) with the perfectly-toned six pecs, V-shaped body, bubble butt and gorgeous face (he looks like the Chinese version of VJ Utt), he IS indeed the perfect man cos he understands all my needs inside out! All my whimps and fancy, my emotional needs, whatever you name it, he understands it! And I'm starting to think that the reason is that he simply reads Men's magazines with care. As in really read the article and not just look at the pictures of half-dangling boobs.

I was just refusing to work on a Friday afternoon (normally I switch off after noon) and happened to be reading the articles in Men's Health. Boy!!! I didn't know they have articles to teach men how to handle women better!! There's one article that tell men how to be better in bed and it's catered to satisfying the female species. Then there's another one that educates clueless men how to deal with their girlfriends' needs. I'm kinda surprised and I thought, ney...maybe it's just this issue. But when I went through my archive of Men's Health, Maxim and FHM magazines, they DO have articles like that every month!! So what the fuck is going on you men out there???? Come on!! I know you guys read those stuff but how come you guys aren't becoming smarter when dealing with us?? And I still hear complaints like "Aiyah, you're damn high maintence lah", "Well, if you want something you gotta ask for it!!!!" or "You're just too sensitive dear!" Argh..that drives me nuts!!

I was on the phone with my good friend just now and learnt that she, too, is having issues with the boyfriend and we share similar problems. In fact, most of our girlfriends have similar, recurring issues as mine and I come to think that perhaps straight men are simply....well, dumb and dense.

Our straight dudes do read men's magazines but how come their gay counterparts are scoring so much better on the attractive scale is that they pay attention to articles. Nic reads every article in the men's mag and that includes the "how to make your girlfriend feels better" stuff every month. Straight men, on the other hand, look at nothing but the scantily bikini-clad babes, drool and lust after them (okay, some do more than that but I don't wanna think about it) and nothing else. How annoying! Cos with the copious amount of free porn out there, you straight guys might as well just don't waste that 5 bucks to get a copy of lad's mag (I can tell you pretty sure that if Singapore ever allows things like Playboy or Hustler, no title like FHM or Men's Health would sustain its business)! Since you're not learning, you might as well use that 5 bucks to buy yourself a MacDonald value meal instead!

I asked my guy friend if he ever reads articles like that and he said with a grim and annoying reply: "Aiyah, what you expect, we're men what! Visual-driven creatures! All those lovey dovey article shit simply is too long-winded lah. I'd rather look at the big neh neh pok. I tried to read the articles but I usually stop halfway loh. No big deal what!"

Nothing that surprises me really but seriously, men can sometimes be really self-obsessed and I hate that. Being self-obsessed's fine but let's just get it straight. Sometimes it's not that we're needy and unreasonable but you guys are simply fucking dense like a dead piece of log and simply don't learn!

And to nic if you happen to be reading this: You'd better make sure I'm still number one on your waiting list if you ever decide to turn straight!

Peril of empty apartment and decaying corpse

I miss home. I miss having company in my apartment cos I'm sick of going back to an empty home everyday cos it makes me feel really isolated. This is one of those times that I miss having my naggy quarrelsome mom and aloof dad. I hate this feeling cos it makes me feel lonely and weak, as if I'm not able to be by myself and independent.

Thing is, to many, they envy the fact that I have the whole apartment to myself and not having my mom around to nag about not leaving your socks on the floor or bags on the sofa. By try doing that for 12 years since 14 years old and you might just feel the way I feel.

Sure it was good when I first started out living alone away from my family. No curfew, no nagging and you get to literally walk around the apartment buck naked. I was overjoyed and thrilled at first, thriving on the independence. But slowly as the years go by, the initial thrill started to wean off. Especially when days where I'm so sick that I could hardly get out of bed but still have to struggle my way to the doctor or hospital all by myself. I hate that.

I do have friends to hang out with but there's only so much friends can offer and my boyfriend isn't exactly there all the time. But it's a different thing cos having your own family around does make a bit of a difference. How exactly I can't really pinpoint but somehow I feel better, as if there's a sense of security with their presence that tells you that there're people who love you and that everything's gonna be fine.

As I grow older, I'm starting to feel that I need more of that emotional security and assurance. I dunno why but my older friends told me it's just a sign of growing older and realizing that your family and loved ones are more important than say a pair of Gucci shoes or nabbing a new exciting job. Ultimately, it's that higher emotional needs that goes beyond daily survival that really need to be fulfilled. I long for the physical presence of those that I love cos I feel lonely sometimes.

What seems really tragic but realistic is what I used to tell my friends. I say to them, if I die in my room, nobody would know it until months later when my rotting dead body starts to reek up the whole neighborhood. Think about it. If I don't turn up for work and don't pick up calls, my boss would think that I"m simply playing punk and going AWOL cos after all, she knows how she and Jabba The Hutt mistreat me. And if my friends and parents call and I don't pick up, they'll think that I'm just too busy or being a bitch and don't bother picking up nor replying. Then, if my boyfriend calls and I don't answer, he'll think that I'm just getting psycho and getting mad at stupid things and wouldn't wanna talk to him. And the next thing is, before they know it, they see my face in the home news section that reads "Decayed Body Found in Braddell". That's one of the worst nightmare I have really. One that I really dread and probably one that makes me sound like I'm some 84-year-old old bitch who live by myself. It's tragically depressing.
(err...Becky, if you're reading'll say that "Eh but I'm home what!" But think about it, if you come back and knock on the door and I don't answer, you'll think I'm asleep and you having bad sinus and having a blocked nose all the time, wouldn't notice that my dead decaying flesh is in fact rotting away!)

Sigh...I guess I'm just feeling needy now...but really, I hate my living arrangement.

Monday, June 20, 2005

If life is a bitch, then I'm a salmon!

I tender my resignation as a Salmon! I don't wanna be a salmon anymore! Can somebody turn me into a big fat whale instead???

I'm feeling like I'm a struggling salmon. Of all the fishes, salmon probably has a pretty tough life cos it gotta struggle and swim upstream against the flow most of the time. I'd settle to be a fat whale anytime, nevermind the layers of bubbler they have cos anyway, I don't see any cellulite.

I'm struggling with my sanity now cos after feeling better and gaining some perspective yesterday, I woke up this morning getting apprehensive cos I'm afraid I'll feel like shit again and go psycho on everyone with my uncontrollable temper while sinking into depression.'s shit cos after struggling to feel better, now I have to worry about keeping up with the positive outlook and not losing it again. Life is indeed a bitch.

Yet another worry is the probability of nabbing a new decent job. Fast. I want a new job offer now!!! I realize it's really the end of my tolerance race this morning when I feel sick in the stomach the moment I walked into my little sterile office while Jabba The Hutt let out one fake and slimy "Morrrrrrrning" to me. Then as my boss walked in (god!! Is she ever gonna stop dragging her fucking little feet as she walks?), I conjured up mental images of kicking her teeth in with my 3-inch heels. Hmm...come to think of it, I might just be doing her a favor kicking her teeth in cos she's got some serious buck teeth and really should be visiting the orthodontist soon. To put it in a more poetic way, she has teeth that can very well double up as carrot scraper...Oops, the inner bitch is out!

Anyway, I'm one tired salmon and perhaps my priority now is not to struggle upstream but just let things be and switch off my mind for awhile. Tough, I know, especially with an overactive brain like my which probably is badly in need of a lobotomy. But I'll try at least.

I think I'm gonna stop struggling for awhile and just chill out. Take it easy, tune out, step down, nevermind the rest of the pack are still braving upstream. I guess sometimes in life, in order to move forward, perhaps you just gotta let go and take a step back and let the current carry you for awhile instead and just chill.

Salmon sashimi anyone?

Sunday, June 19, 2005

Suffer my little boyfriend

I've turned into a major monster. A quarrelsome, unreasonable, psychotic, uncontrollable one.

I've come to realize that it's not exactly PMS I'm experiencing but I'm bordering on the verge of going into a major depression. I have no idea why or how it got started but I just remember rather vividly that everything went downhill after I got attacked by Jabba The Hutt.

You might think that I over-react to some bitchy office politics cos after all, it's already resolved and I ought to think of moving on. Yes, moving on is really what I have in mind. As in really moving on to find a new job cos my office environment really is killing me.

I've been with this fucked up, supposedly glamourous and high profile french company for a year and I think my tolerance level is running dangerously low. If I stay on, I can assure you that all my pent-up frustration would manifest into what the medical world would call "tumor". The office environment is highly carcinogenic.

I hate the fact that there's politics even when it's such a small set up run by four chicks and a 3 against 1 (aka me) situation isn't exactly very easy for me to swallow. I'm sick of getting bitched at all the time, sick of having to do lunch by myself in my own sterile room everyday, sick of being excluded in things that the trio do, sick of feeling the kind of social isolation that will turn anyone into a mental case, sick of my boss' rude attitude and unfriendly face, sick of walking out of the office everyday feeling the unhealthy pent-up anger that affects everyone, and totally tired of wanting to try to improve on the environment cos I give up. I just don't wanna try anymore. Sometimes in life, there simply comes a point where you think that you've done all you can and nothing you do would improve the situation and you just gotta admit it's simply the way it is and you can't change it.

I miss having colleagues who're my close friends too. Miss having working days that's peppered with laughter and jokes. Miss being able to be my goofy self with funny pranks and corny jokes. Miss getting the kind of social support I used to get in my previous jobs. Now, I'm getting kinda depressed and I'm upset that my pent-up frustration is eating into my personal life.

Yes, suffer my little boyfriend. Well, he's not exactly little cos he's the size of an average adult bear but he simply has the misfortune of getting my shit and pent-up frustration. I'm guilt-ridden cos for the past one week, I've been terribly ridiculous, flaring up at every single small thing that normally doesn't bug me. I get angry at everything and blow everything up out of proportion, and totally ruin both our moods. It obviously doesn't help when I get that the world against me kinda attitude, thinking that everyone out there's out to disappoint and piss me off. And coupled with my rotten temper, it's just deadly. I'm a self-absorbed mofo.

I also notice that whenever I'm in a lousy mood, those who're closest to me get the most shit. Besides my boyfriend, my sister is the other unfortunate one who constantly experience my pent-up wrath. I feel terrible. Really terrible and this post-tantrum guilt simply spirals downward and turns into a vicious cycle cos I get even more frustrated with myself for losing it. Then yesterday, I cracked and couldn't stop sobbing cos I'm sick of the way I am and I simply can no longer stand myself.

I'm come to realize that those who're closest to me get the most shit cos I have what I called the "Princess Syndrome". I feel lousy, I feel down and I expect them to make me feel okay. Say those magic words, do that special thing and I'll be okay. Well, too bad, it doesn't happen that way. Like with my boyfriend, he is probably the highlight of my day and becos of the fact that I feel so lousy before, I expect this highlight of my day to be the remedy for my predicament. And when things don't go the way I expect it to go, I blow up.

I feel very bad. Really bad cos suddenly I feel that I'm not being responsible for myself. I'm making the people I love repsonsible for me instead. In a way, I'm letting myself go with the excuse that "But I'm depressed!!". What's worse is, I get unreasonable and throw tantrums at them and end up upsetting those who're important to me. I really can't feel any worse and I find it hard to forgive myself for such childish and irresponsible behavior....sigh....I dunno how to make it up to them now and definitely hope that I haven't done any irresversible damage. I'm also angry at myself that I never seem to learn. This really isn't the first time stuff like this happened. It's happened in the past and I told myself not to repeat the same mistake but I still do every time! This sucks!

I really just want these bad vibes to go away...I just hope this gloomy clouds above my head will go away and I'll be back to my stupid goofy happy self....cue in the shrink please!!!! I need happy pills!!!

Saturday, June 18, 2005

Hormonal Dsyfunction

I'm fucking grouchy. Very very grouchy. Excruciatingly grouchy. Thanks to my pending period, I'm now experiencing one of the worst PMS ever. Explosive, implosive, edgy, cranky, sexually frustrated, violent, moody, angry....I'm just one fucking grouchy mofo.

It's so unfair cos shit like this changes your mood for the worse, saps you of your sense of well-being and suddenly you feel like hissing at everyone around you.

With the gazillion amount of money they're investing on medical R&D, how come there still isn't a fool-proof, sure-work magic pill that makes your countdown days to getting bleeding genital a much easier thing?? Wait a minute...I think that pill I'm refering to might exist but happens to be illegal. Oh well...

Normally, being a pill-popper, I'll stuff a table of Xanas down my mouth to calm me down a little or head right to the hot shower. But I'm stuck at a cold sterile office now so hot shower's definitely out and my Xanas has failed me cos after popping one in the morning, I still feel like punching Jabba The Hutt until she turns blue. Thus, explaining the previous disgusting "let's-put-dead-body-in-a-meat-grinder" entry.

Sometimes it also makes me wonder, what the hell is sense of well-being and happiness when it's all reduced to some fucking chemicals buzzing in your brain?? I hate to think of things that way cos it cheapens every pleasant experience we get, cos well, it's just fucking chemicals in your brain. Then again, I'm now a freaking uncontrollable PMS monster. I know it might sound strange but this is one of those times that I wish someone would come right up to me and pick a fight. A real physical fight ala WWE style and I'll do a Hillary Swank in the Million Dollar Baby punch cos then, I'll have a legitimate reason to bash someone up in the name of self-defense and vent out all my hormonal frustration.

Aaarrrggghhh.....I just want my sense of well-being back!!!!!

Best Way to Dispose A Dead Body

Phoaw...some chick got murdered while having her body chopped up into pieces, stuffed into carton boxes and thrown into the Kallang River ala CSI style yesterday!

Sheer bad luck for the poor cleaner dude who discovered the body cos according to the papers, he said her flesh looked like fresh meat as if she's still alive (Okay, I don't quite get how he could use that to describe a mutilated corpse but whatever) and he could see that her knee bones are really white.

The thing that got me thinking is that how come the killer is so freaking dumb??? Either he has the intellect of a fruit fly or he has the intention to somehow end up in jail cos he didn't even bother tying some weight to sink the chopped-up body.

Come on, disposing a corpse down the river is the worst way of dunking a dead body cos the water current will somehow bring the dead body back. I remember watching the first episode of Nip/Tuck whereby the two surgeons were trying to dispose the dead body of a liposuction hazard. The method was pretty awesome in a sense that it's dark and twisted. The kind of black humor you see in The Addam's Family.

They went to the supermarket and bought like a dozen of chunky honey baked ham, tied it to the dead corpse and dump the dead meat and ham at the local swamp where an alligator lurked. The alligator sensed the smell of the ham, charged at both the ham and dead corpse, corpse got chomped down and problem solved.

But then we haven't got any swamp and the closest we get to an alligator (except for those in the crocodile farm that is) is perhaps its distant, much tamer and less hungry cousin aka the Monitor Lizards that lurks in local drain and commonly seen at Marina. So how like that??

To effectively dispose a corpse with minimal risk of getting caught for murder, I would highly recommend using an industrial meat grinder that will grind down the bones as well. You just gotta chop up the dead shit into many smaller chunks so they'll fit into the grinder, then you run the dead meat into the grinder and turn it into minced human meat and Viola! No more finger prints, no more dental record and people just probably think that it's simply minced pork or something....I think it even beats the "chop up the dead corpse and cook into curry" trick that happened back in 1984.

The only tricky bit here is perhaps to get the meat grinder but I guess making friends with the local abatoirs guys might help....

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

What the hell is WRONG with Airpork?

Have you seen the latest Airpork advertisement on TV?? I watched it on TV mobile on my way to work on a bus and got rather traumatized by the content!

There're two pigs talking to each other. One telling the other to hurry up so they can run off to the Airpork farm cos life is good in the Airpork farm. Then both of them make a beeline for the alledgedly good life that the bloody Airpork farm promises.

Now how warp is that??? Last check, I don't think I associate being forced fed, jabbed with hormones/antibiotics, or cramped up in tiny sordid quarters just to finally get brutally slaughtered while having your flesh sent to the supermarket or ham factory as living a good life! That's as good a life as the Nazi concentration camp offered I reckon.

Okay, fine. Some people (especially the Chinese) use the phrase "You're stoopid like a pig!" to insult someone's intelligence but I guess the producers of this dumb advertisement really have the intelligence quotience lower than that of a pig to think that a pig trying to escape its bacon fate would run off to yet another pig farm just to get slaughtered.

Then what's wrong with these advertisement producers by making the pigs look cute when they're fucking selling pork??? They don't feel bad eating the freshly flown in Airpork after looking at how the chubby four-leggeds get conned into thinking that Airpork farm is paradise?

It's really sickening....Just as another friend who just brought up the fact that KFC uses a chicken as mascot. Now, that's another twisted rendition of human reality.

It's like the chicken mascot will sing and dance in front of you with the jingle in the background saying "Yo, kids, come log off my arms and fried them into yummy chicken wings as they're super duper snacks! Come on, cut off my arms and come eat my own kind! It's great!!!"

Now is that demented or what?? It really gives me the creeps.....

The Lexicon of B

Someone just asked me how come I signed off as "B" and don't use my actual name.

Well, dearie, when you have a name that even your own folks have problem pronouncing, you're better off reducing it to a single alphabet so that it has almost near zero chance of getting it enunciated wrongly (unless, of course you have Dyslexia).

Seriously, I haven't a single clue why my dad gave me the weirdo name "Bertha". Come on, it fucking sounds fat. Other than a strong association to a particular Callyway golf club that supposedly is big and never miss a fucking ball, the name "Bertha" epitomizes big fat 6-foot tall German mama with a moustache. It's also a name commonly used on mean, old and crusty character in many fiction books. I think there's a mean Aunt Bertha in Harry Potter if my memory didn't fail me.

Lousy associations aside, it can't be more annoying when I hear it getting mispronounced all the time. So I give up. Just fucking call me B and here's a list of how my name's being mis-pronounced:

  • Ber-fa (that's how my name is commonly pronounced when I was living in Hong Kong, the hongkie seems to have problem pronouncing -th-)
  • Ber-ta (now here's the common singaporean version, like the hongkie, singaporeans can't do the -th- well either cos they say stuff like "Oh I tink I'm very tirsty")
  • Berf-ta (I'm not naming names but it's a Singaporean who was attempting to do the -th- in my name right...sigh)
  • Bar-sa-san (courtesy of the many Japanese pricks I used to work with)
  • Be-arh-taaaahh (Trust the french to screw up names with a German root, it's as disgusting as foie gras)
  • Bata (as in the lousy shoe shop that most people think is the acronym of Buy-And-Throw-Away)
  • Burcha (don't ask me why, but it was written in black and white in an invoice supposedly addressed to me)
  • Batik (yes, as in the indonesian art of making tie-dye's far-fetched I know but I have many ex-colleagues who heard the warehouse guy from my old company called me that *eyeroll*)
  • Bernard (another warehouse person from my previous company...she obviously couldn't pronounce "Bertha" so when she tried to call me on the phone, she went like "Harrow harrow, er er..I'm looking for ber ber, er ber, Bernard ah!")
  • Brenda (Did they not teach spelling properly in school or what???)
  • Ber-tel (there's this short-lived ex-manager of mine who went around mispronouncing everyone's name and my ex-colleague, Rosemarie, was called Roast-Mariah!! Yes, it's "roast" and not rose becos she incidentally also got the habit of adding a "t" with words that ends with an "s" sound so Rose sounds like "roast" when she said it)
  • Boo-tu (some annoying friend who choose to call me this!!!! You know who you are!!! You Goondoo!)

So here you go folks...the lexicon of B....a ridiculous, hilarious and goosebumps inducing one....

Monday, June 13, 2005

Jabba The Hutt Menopausing????

I hate Jabba The Hutt and I think Jabba's entering Menopause.

Well actually I'm not quite refering to the fat green slimy slug who forced a gold bikini on Princess Leia. The one I hate happens to be the planet Earth, real-life, frizzied-hair resemblance who is female in gender, sits across my office room and just as obnoxious and with a backside as big as her Star War counterpart.

Just that the Jabba I know is worse.
She shouted on the phone screaming that I'm a selfish bitch for wanting to go home cos I have the misfortune of having a leaky arsehole situation called Gastric flu that sprays, yes, it sprays, the toilet bowl brown with "scatter bomb" (aka liquid poo) every two hours.

I was the only bitch in the 4-women office cos it's one of those freaky Mondays where everyone fell sick (or are they really? hmmm...). Jabba The Hutt said she's too tired to work and need to take urgent leave to rest her slimy little fat trunk whereas my boss just sort of went AWOL.

I tried to make it to the office cos I know the French assholes from my headquarters are watching and we couldn't afford to leave the office unattended and risk our livers getting pan-fried into perfection, French foie gras style.

But as I tried to stay in the office, the god-damn "scatter bombs" in my guts went berserk, exploding out of my already burning and rotting butthole and my intestines felt as if they're about to rapture anytime. No amount of online game can distract me from my predicament cos I didn't even dare to fart for the fear of misfiring.

I had no choice but to head to the doctor and I sent out SOS message to both Jabba and my boss. Boss said she would come in and cover the afternoon for me and Jabba said I'm a fucking selfish bitch.

Jabba said if I'm well enough to make it to the office, why can't I just stay there to cover for them and how come I'm so selfish to want to go home and make either one of them come back to the office. Well if anyone's to follow that logic, then nobody should head to the hospital if he has a heart attack in the office and he happens to be the only one in the office cos he's supposed to man the office for that day. And pregnant woman who happen to be solo in the office should just give birth in the office if she goes into labor then???!!! Ha...good luck with the umbilical cord!

She said I'm behaving like a spoilt kid for wanting to go home becos I'm sick. Oh but but but...wait a minute....I'm in the office and she's at home...who's saying who's selfish again?????? And correct me if the diarrhea fluid shit has gone the wrong way and spray up my brain and screw up my memory, but did Jabba say she's on leave cos she's JUST TOO TIRED to work????? FYI, I'm fucking tired every morning I get off the bed too!

Jabba Jabba Jabba, I have a legitimate medical certificate from the company's doctor and YOU DON'T!

Oh Jabba Jabba Jabba, how come you volunteer to come back even when you know our boss was already coming back?? Feeling guilty for faking ill???

Seriously, why must unhappy bitches like Jabba The Hutt rub off their bad vibes on others???? What's more despicable is taking a shit at someone who's having a sore butthole that sprays liquid poo.

The only explanation for Jabba's insanity is perhaps that she's entering menopause cos after all, she's in her 40s.....Perhaps I should get her a vibrator, a double headed delux pearl-filled one...or maybe a young teenage boy in golden swimming trunk with a chain attached to his neck might just do the trick too....


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