Current affairs

Do not expect intelligent conversation, especially between me and my friends:

You know what’s the problem with Kryrgystan?

What?

Not enough vowels. That’s why got problem.


Even better than the real thing?

Surf stop: Cheeseen! (featured on 17 Jan, but under threat of death, I have to Surf stop her again)

iTunes’ party shuffle is playing a copy of: Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown) – The Beatles – Anthology 2 – Disc 1, of which I have the original CD and therefore didn’t steal music.

Didn’t know that didja? Part IIb

What’s this? Nabeh, the ‘E’ in ‘E-filing’ stands for ‘Electronic’. ‘Electronic’ means it should operate 24/7. Right? Huh? Huh? Huh?

I want to declare my corporate taxes! And you make it so hard?

Nabeh, I get all my papers together, sit in front of the computer, all glad that this is such a connected city, and you tell me:

The ECI E-Filing system is currently not in operation.

Our operating hours are as follows:

Day Operating Hours
(in Singapore Time)
Monday To Friday 8 am to 9 pm
Saturday 8 am to 5 pm
Eve of these Public Holidays:
– Christmas Day
– New Year’s Day
– Chinese New Year 8 am to 4 pm
Sunday and Public Holidays Not In Operation

Thank you.

You make me… …not want to pay my taxes anymore!

iras corporate E-FILING NOT open 24hrs
The gremlins that push the buttons to make the screen light up work only weekdays between 9am and 5pm.

And then, as is always the case, only a matter of time before the China girls started barging in on the act. Reader Alan Pang emailed me the link to the picture. (mr brown gets news scoops, Mr Miyagi gets links to chiobu’s pictures).


China girl sexyblogger


Surf stop: one little twit
iTunes’ party shuffle is playing a copy of: She Don’t Love Nobody – Nick Lowe & His Cowboy Outfit – Love Gets Strange — The Songs of John Hiatt, of which I have the original CD and therefore didn’t steal music.

Didn’t know that, didja? Part IIa

Good thing my work doesn’t allow me to be cranky for long, even if the week gets really heavy. Because I learn something new almost every day:

At the Lycee Francais, where I worked on Friday, the primary school kids stuck paper fish on my back, and when I took them off and looked puzzled, the kids gleefully yelled, ‘poisson d’avril!’.

ShapeCover
Not a sexyblogger, not a blogger, even, but heck, she’s got a twin sister, y’know?

Surf stop: Dear Glob (nothing to do with me)



iTunes’ party shuffle is playing a copy of: The Obvious Child – Paul Simon – 1964-1993 (Disc 3) [Box Set], of which I have the original CD and therefore didn’t steal music.

Happy Birthday Curiosa Felicitas

A year ago today, I gave in to several friends‘ suggestion that I should start a blog. I had already registered a Blogger account the year before that, just so’s I could stalk some people and leave comments. But my friends, they were quite eager for me to start blogging, and I suspect it was because they were sick of me sending them my own brand of junk mail.

You’ll see the archives dating prior to 2nd April 2004, but the troof is, the stuff in the archives was cut and pasted from emails I had sent to friends (or received from them).

On 2nd April 2004, I was up late, and had no idea what to write after spending three hours deliberating over which template to use. So I cut and pasted a quote from my favourite person in a headdress (no, not Celle), hoping it would set some sort of theme for this here glob (my first choice of URL was globstop.blogspot.com, but taken liao):

“You wonder what I am doing? Well, so do I, in truth. Days seem to dawn, suns to shine, evenings to follow, and then I sleep. What I have done, what I am doing, what I am going to do, puzzle and bewilder me. Have you ever been a leaf and fallen from your tree in autumn and been really puzzled about it? That’s the feeling.”

So far, so good, and I’m still figuring out what this blog is about, especially when I’m up late. Which is like, everyday.

As a novice blogger, I did what all bloggers do – read other people’s blogs to see what they wrote about, and to see whether I could add arguments/stories to what they had started. I found mr brown, Xiaxue and Cowboy Caleb with ease, and suspected mr brown to be an ACS old boy, Xiaxue to be a clueless ah lian, and the Cowboy to be a bloody wanker to call his blog a Gonzo Journal.

Turned out mr brown is an ACS old boy, and a long-lost classmate to boot; Xiaxue is one of the most clued-in wholesome sluts online; and Cowboy, well…

Then there were the people who wrote with such consummate ease it made you want to stop blogging altogether, because, wah lao, nabeh, I thought my England buay pai liao. I am still enjoying their blogs, and I still think, nabeh, got people England so good one meh?

(Then there were the chiobus and the people who posted pictures of chiobus. They made me wanna post pictures of chiobus.)

I’ve discovered and read many, many local blogs since, and made good friends of some of their authors. And one thing I did not expect was the ‘community’ that existed locally. The local blogs I read are written in some version of English, and our language is not quite homogenous or formalised enough to be even considered a form of Creole, but maybe this lends itself to creating a variety of distinct voices that makes it all the more interesting.

We are somewhat orphans of empire, and compared to other orphanages like, say, Hong Kong, our ‘community’ sure seems a lot more colourful, because unlike Hong Kongers (three types: Gweilo, Local and Local-But-Lived-In-Wancouwer-Long-Time), we’re still grappling with issues of identity. Like, y’know, I still have no freeking idea what this blog is, no matter how many times Diana Ser leans in close and asks me, ‘SO, what is your blog about?’


She can blow out my candles anytime

Surf stop: Idle Days

iTunes’ party shuffle is playing a copy of: Homeless – Paul Simon – 1964-1993 (Disc 3) [Box Set], of which I have the original CD and therefore didn’t steal music.

An evening soiree

1 April, and I can’t think of a single prank to pull on anyone.

Me, Cowboy Caleb and mr brown had dinner and coffee and coffee and a darn good chat about who mr brown, Cowboy Caleb and Mr Miyagi really are. You could say we were getting a little ahead of ourselves here, but really, most of the evening was spent asking Cowboy Caleb what it meant to him to be easing himself into monogamy. I don’t really care about the impact on his life personally, but I have a feeling (and I told him) that his Gonzo Journal would either irrevocably change into some Diary of a Married Man, or worse, close down for good (as opposed to close down temporarily because someone pissed you off in the comments section).

I mean, who’d do all those interviews? We’d have no more chio bus featured on the Journal!


(But you could always come to this blog to see some featured here)

Surf stop: my tushees (?)
iTunes’ party shuffle is playing a copy of: Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes – Paul Simon – 1964-1993 (Disc 3) [Box Set], of which I have the original CD and therefore didn’t steal music.