Foreign talent freedom defender

Since we’re still talking about blogs, how to blog and what blogs are about, just so you all know, there’s this organisation called ‘Reporters sans Frontieres’, which is like the French for ‘Reporters without Press Passes’, and who have this award for best blog that defends the freedom of expression in blogs.

Representing Singapore from sunny UK, is Steven McDermott, with his blog, Singabloodypore! So what if he’s Ang Moh? Defend our freedom can liao! Eh, hard work ok, and seldom appreciated.

Read his blog and you’ll see how much work he puts into defending our freedom while the rest of us just exercise our freedom and express ourselves by blog, podcast and posting pictures of chiobu.

Go exercise your freedom to vote (or not to), and hold Singabloodypore in the regard that it deserves!

Fake NY cab
Don’t always have to take the tour bus when you go on vacation

Surf stop: The Big Fuck

iTunes’ party shuffle is playing a copy of: La Danse de Mardi Gras – Balfa Brothers – Original Soundtrack – Passion Fish, of which I have the original CD and therefore didn’t steal music.

Better have the handsfree attached when Steph Song calls

Cowboy Caleb sez ‘be consistent in your content’ or something or other. And while I hardly ever apologize for the content of this glob, I’ve been told that the very thing that draws people here is the fact that I drop names and pictures of famous people (even Cowboy’s taken to this, though I think he likes Cheryl Fox ‘cos she’s got a porn star name) and gossip about them, and lately I haven’t been doing that enough.

So, here ’tis:

This morning, while I’m driving a doe, a deer, a very attractive female friend, someone calls on the mobile while I don’t have the handsfree attached and it’s Steph Song!

I hear a whole bunch of expletives, and decide, ok, this one important, better put on handsfree:

You little shit! MISTER MIYAGI eh? My friend emailed me the link to your blog!, said Miss Song, calling all the way from L.A. and not looking a day over 25.

But it’s a blog, and the readers know not everything here is true, and they’ll believe what they want to believe anyway, and they probably believe I don’t really know Steph Song!

Fuck, of course they wanna believe you know me! And I know lotsa people read your blog, or else my friend wouldn’t have emailed me!

That is so not true!

It is, you little meanie! Look at what you did to Fiona Xie!

OK. So, how’s L.A.?

L.A.’s fine, but it’s getting expensive, so I’m coming back. So, can you stop people reading about me on your blog?

Har? You’re coming back? OK, I’ll ask the readers very nicely to stop reading about you here.

You little shit! You’re such an asshole! What did I do to you?

Oh come on! Fair game! How’dja find my new phone number anyways?

I ain’t tellin’ ya, you little shit, you’re gonna write it in your blog, MISTER MIYAGI!

Why don’t you start your own blog and write stuff about me lah!

So, please, all youse readers of this here glob, don’t read the bits about Steph Song, ok? All untrue. Even the stuff I’ve just written.


Ceci n’est pas une pipe

iTunes’ party shuffle is playing a copy of: Way over Yonder – Blessid Union of Souls – Tapestry Revisited: A Tribute to Carole King, of which I have the original CD and therefore didn’t steal music.

How Mr Miyagi got his name

I don’t know karate but this is how I got named my nickname.

It’s a much better nickname than what the South African rugby player, Chumani Booi was called last weekend when his team played the New South Wales Waratahs. It won’t stick because too many players are called Black Cunts, apparently.

Back in my day on the playing paddock, everyone had a nickname. If your opponents didn’t give you one, your teammates did. My captain, Boof (I forget his real name), noticed that with my scrumcap on, I bore a striking resemblance to that Japanese American actor. He would announce to our opponents before every game that our side had Mr Miyagi who could catch flies with chopsticks whether he played at halfback or on the wing. Put a lot of undue pressure on me, I’ll tell ya. The only good thing was that taunts from opponents got really boring: ‘Wax on, wax off, fuck off back to Japan Miyagiiii’ – and didn’t bother me after a while.

Although once a while, the opposing halfback would mutter something along the lines of ‘Miyagi-san, too slow! Been buggering Daniel-san all night, mate?’ But I’d get my own back if I got to floor him, ‘Get up, Daniel-san! Mr Miyagi want some more, maaaaaaate!’ (If I didn’t get to floor him, my teammates, Boof, Lino, Sione, Stevo and Donut would get him for me, and say to him something to the effect of ‘make another Asian or Pacific Islander joke, bro, and I’ll break you in two, ok?’)

It was actually quite fun to watch Boof, Lino, Sione, Stevo and Donut break people in two, and then we’d all go to the pub, me, the Pacific Islander boys and the broken opponents, and we’d swap stories about how we broke the previous week’s opponents in two when they made racist remarks on the field.

These days, racially inspired sledging has gone out of fashion, sadly.

Oh well, now to find out why mr brown is called mr brown.


Tempura-Wire 2.0

Surf stop: Lychee Chronicles II
Congratulations, Karen Cheng & family on the birth of Sean.
iTunes’ party shuffle is playing a copy of: Clémentine – Pink Martini – Hang On Little Tomato, of which I have the original CD and therefore didn’t steal music.

Adri gets interviewed

Cowboy ‘Borat’ Caleb gets up close and personal with one of the best online writers this side of the South China Sea. I now know what I’ve suspected for a while: Adri, I am in lurrve witchu!


Hot or whaaaaaat?!

iTunes’ party shuffle is playing a copy of: Lullaby For Lucas – Standfast – A chance of sunshine, of which I have the original CD and therefore didn’t steal music.

Auntie Lilly and the free gift from hell

My cousin called today to tell me about what happened to Auntie Lilly and Uncle Albert over the weekend.

It was a pretty slow Saturday morning, so Auntie Lilly was very happy to have received a phone call that told her she had been selected to receive some branded free gifts.

You know where this is heading, but Auntie Lilly didn’t, and very delightedly told Uncle Albert that they had free gifts waiting for them at Wisma Atria.

Eh, free MP3 player, you know? Free digital Canberra you know? We got selected you know?

My cousins knew where this was heading, and warned them that this was likely to come with a very big catch.

But free digital Canberra! Free MP3 player! Branded one you know?

And off they went, Uncle Albert and Auntie Lilly, to Wisma Atria, where they were to call their children after they had picked up their gifts, so that they could be picked up and fetched home.

A while only lah! Just answer some questions, then we call you ok? Free digital Canberra you know?

An hour passed and they didn’t call. So the cousins called them to ask what time they’d be done.

Finishing soon. You come and pick us up lah. Wait for us at Tangs. We waiting for the Canberra.

And the cousins went and waited outside Tangs for them. For half an hour, before they decided to buzz Auntie Lilly’s mobile phone again.

Err. Not finished yet lah. Still talking. Talking something lah. Your father got questions to ask.

This went on for another good hour, before an ashen-faced Auntie Lilly appeared at the taxi stand with a equally worried-looking Uncle Albert.

My cousins decided to frisk them and found that they had signed and purchased four thousand bucks’ worth of time-share lifetime holidays at luxury destinations across the world. Immediately, my cousin called the bastards to make sure they cancelled the deal, threatening bodily harm if necessary.

That got Auntie Lilly even more worried.

Eh, don’t scold them lah. They give us the Canberra you know?

And the branded MP3 player.

Auntie Lilly, there’s a price to pay for wanting to be so connected, you know?

Bras Basah
Sometimes, my digital Canberra can take quite nice photos

Surf stop: Lifestory
iTunes’ party shuffle is playing a copy of: Everybody Plays the Fool – Aaron Neville – Warm Your Heart, of which I have the original CD and therefore didn’t steal music.