104. Home

There's no place quite like it eh. No matter how much we complain or moan about it. There'll always be that part of us which will always miss it, warts and all.

103. Chatterbox #1

Now then, it seems that the nefarious Melvinator has somehow connived his way into this unsuspecting blog. Who is he, and what does he want??? Who knows...all we can do is wait with bated breath and see what comes to fruit from this disturbing development (shudder)...

Speaking of disturbing developments, I've received many complaints (just one) from my loyal fanbase (of just one) that my last post was a tad too mean-spirited. Ahhhh, just makes me want to laugh, cry and stick blunt rusty objects into my eyes at the same time. Ok, considering that it's just after Valentine's, and today being the CNY eve, keeping up in the spirit of these great times, allow me to respond by issuing these very heartfelt words....boo-hoo-hoo...awwww, did big bad blogger man hwurt your itsy bitsy tweeny weeney feelings?

Ah, surely I jest. Right, we're all set then. Let's hope that much fun is to be had over this festive time. Good times eating, drinking and mah-jong-ing (and for some, caving)! Whatever it is, no matter how you spend these days, remember it's those whom you share it with that count most, we're amongst family and friends here :)

Remember to drive safe y'all, and keep fighting the good fight. Bright and shiny things!

Dude and the office Stud

Dude and the office Stud.

Both of them have their own rooms in the grey matters between your ears ala Being John Malkovich.
One keeps it real and the other lined up his pens and books.
One is an overgrown teenager and the office stud with egoistic demeanour to race up the corporate steps mercilessly.
Dude will look forward to the journey as Stud is going the distance and he’s going for speed to the destination.
One yearns to travel the globe and live with the locals at exotic locations and the other looks over his shoulder for the big room with a view in his office.
One wants to get out of town on a fast car like Tracy Chapman and OS, cos who works in an office without acronym, reasons to collect cars, porcelain & cufflinks.
Dude is skilled to write for the tabloid as he can fit in a message in a 2 by 6 column and Stud will verbosely write half the broad papers to deliver the same message.
Dude by definition is carefree and peacefully embrace for whatever comes in the coming 10 years, where the other saves ahead to paying off his 3rd property and plan for his funeral if he can.
One wants to know he lived and take whatever his experiences when he is called upon, and the stud will take his Rolex to his grave. Oh yeah, Dude would like office Stud not to forget to do his will.
Time is a four-letter word and it's slipping away.

102. Choice

Anyway, I had a both wonderful and disturbing thought the other day. It was about choice, how we all have it, and how we sometimes conveniently forget that we have it to justify certain things.

If you are unhappy at your current job, and incessantly bitch and whine about it, for the love of God, do us all a favour and quit and land a gig that's right for you. There's no point you polluting our space with your shit. Get with it. You're in your current profession by choice. No one is forcing you. You think you got problems? How bout those poor women forced into prostitution? Get some fucking perspective man.

If you find yourself stuck in a rut, don't just fucking complain to anyone you meet on the street. It's just not on. I hardly know you, have some self-respect. You're not on fucking American Idol here right. You bitch about not having meaning to your life, yadda, yadda, yadda. Well fuck you man. You know why your life is meaningless? It's because you're a fucking pathetic retard who can't think or fend for yourself and rely on the sympathy and good will of others to get by. Shape up or just end it already.

If you want to lose some weight but can't because you're too lazy to get your fat ass to the gym, don't bloody complain to me how you're putting on weight every single freaking time I see you. Yeah of course you're putting on weight. Who gives a shit? You could be a hippo squeezed in a ballerina's tutu for all I care. Keep that in mind the next time you whine to me like a little girl. And when was the last time you had a neck, you douchebag?

And for crying out loud, if you're complaining about a chick who ran off with 20 grand of your hard-earned cash because you were stupid enough to loan it to her even though you've only known her for a few weeks, well what I can say? You deserve to fucking die a slow and miserable death you do. In fact, they shouldn't even let you die, but ensure you live as long as humanly possible so that they can inflict as much pain as possible to your sorry ass.

But actually, what if we really didn't have any choice? What if it were just an illusion. What that does define us, already pre-determines the choices we make. It's who we are, how we are built. People don't change, and they keep making the same choices again and again.

It's like how I knew that some friends would make the predictable choices when confronted with critical decisions. You could advise them all you want, but they've already made their choice. And perhaps it's probably the same for all of us. There are people who will always tend to choose the easier but perhaps murky path rather than the harder but lawful one. There are people who will always tend to choose to stand up and be counted rather than fade into obscurity in the background. And of course, there are people who will always tend to choose to pee without raising the bloody toilet seat up and leaving a pleasant surprise for that special someone who uses the loo next.

So, maybe we shouldn't pretend at all on how this thing is all gonna end. We can already gauge it by the predictable choices we'll make throughout this wonderful life of ours. And with that, we'll already know our destination. But I guess the most important thing is, that at the end of day, no matter how much you may moan and gripe, when the curtain falls, and our light is extinguished, we know that we can leave knowing that this is the ending that we wanted.

Our choices brought us there, and it was the choices we made that defined us. Be it if you die a pauper or a rich man, a grandfather or a lonely pervert, a monk or a pimp. Don't look back and ever think you could've been something else or something more. A poor fisherman who's wanted nothing more but to fish and mend nets will definitely be happier than a rich and successful politician who wished he made the right choices for once in his life and had a clear conscience.

So, what are you waiting for?

And a Happy Chinese New Year to all. I choose not to indulge in the festivities this year because it gets quite tiresome sometimes. But I make the choice to still accept ang pows. Don't worry, I know where to find you. And Happy Valentine's too for those who dig it.

1st love

When you're just a young boy i bet you can't wait to meet the height requirement to get on rides at the theme park. Before long, you were charged the adult fare on public buses, with a sense of pride no less. Then you'll be moving back of the queue when lining up for classes. Most of you would be getting better at sports, hitting longer shots, taking harder hits, you'd make them pay if they cheat you on defense. Soon, you're at your peak, you'd run 10 kilometres in a game. In your mind, you can only get better, stronger & faster. You're what R.Kelly was about when he's belting 'I believe I can fly'.

Your first injury came, but you bounced back so quick that you believe you have no krytonite. Then warm ups became part of ritual. Your body you put to test, but like a rubberband it ain't elastic & tough after wear & tear. Experience gives your game smarts, deft, intimidation and fakes instead of brute physical prowess & quickness. The hours you used to put in your game are now ticking away in cubicles. Your mind tells you to get there, but your legs have other ideas. You shift from being a striker to midfield to defender to godforbid goalkeeper. Your favourite players and them players you follow started to retire one by one. You're soon wearing Cesc Farbegas jersey. You reminisce how you used to get oohs & ahhs. Your body stops reproducing 25 years after arrival. No more quick healing, ankle sprains takes weeks instead of days. When and how do you accept you're gonna have to start playing golf?

It dawned upon me that i have to give up my first love.

101. Pan and Co

Right, Pan's Labyrinth was definitely the best film of 2006. It's unfortunate that I only got to watch it this year. It's even more unfortunate that they're only releasing it over here in March, so it's a while more before we can get to watch it on the Big Screen. Just how good is it? Bloody good I tell ya, in fact, typing or gushing about it over here won't do it justice. But let's save that for a later post shall we?

Another good flick everyone should watch but probably won't is Stephen Frears' The Queen. Bloody brilliant one that. Helen Mirren was majestic in that one. Only a few actors have that presence and gravitas about them, and almost all of them are Brits. You can put her up there with the likes of Judi Dench and Ian McKellan.

Anything else worth watching? The oft-mentioned Babel is a strange beast indeed. On first viewing, it's a difficult watch, with scenes that go into very uncomfortable territory indeed. It's not a very watchable film, but it is powerful, and quite sinister in it's make. If you were to go into the cinema looking for hope, you shan't find it here. Things are utterly bleak here.

More great films coming to a cinema near you or ready for download over the net: Letters From Iwo Jima, The Last King of Scotland, Volver...

Ok, on the small screen, these are the top 5 best things out there at the moment, ranked in order:
1. Rome
2. Heroes
3. Friday Night Lights
4. Lost
5. Grey's Anatomy

I would've put House up there if only I watched more episodes. Noteworthy mentions include The Office, Entourage and Prison Break. PB has slipped a few notches in my book the more 24-like things get, meaning implausible scenarios, but too much time has been invested to bail now. Likewise for Lost, but it's still on the list cause everyone wants to know what the hell that four-toed foot statue thingy from last season is, and they bloody better have a good explanation for it. Entourage is still infinitely watchable but somehow lacks the omph of the 2nd season (which was by far the most brilliant piece of television I've seen).

On a side note, this dreaded month of February is upon. What does that mean to you and me? Shit flicks like Ghost Rider in the cinema, ladies and gents. Summer couldn't come any sooner.