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just spent the weekend at the army barracks
Is Chewing On

Gore Vidal

Listening to:

Everything in Transit
Jack's Mannequin
Lick Those Stripes!
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The Herd
Carresser of Annabelle
Crazy Lone Ranger
Island Sinker
Labert Leopard
Lego Man
Shakin' That Ass
Sloth Min
Uber Bitch Jase
Van Ren


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Songs of the Plains
Family Court

One would be in less danger
From the wiles of a stranger
If one's own kin and kith
Were more fun to be with.

Ogden Nash
Pass The Ciggies
Sunday. 8.14.05 5:27 pm
Every Malaysian and their mother seems to have blogged about the haze. Granted it was a bit bad. National state of emergency, seven people dead, hospitals mobbed with people suffering breathing difficulties, a dude strapped on a scuba oxygen tank to get around KL...

Orright. But let's not overreact. Sure the haze can screw up your lungs and kill you. Then again, so can ciggie smoke. And I don't see anyone strapping on scuba gear when the guy at the next table lights up.

But to postpone next weekend's rugby tournament to November? C'mon...

This isn't funny anymore.

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Those Emo-ridden Brits
Thursday. 8.4.05 11:01 pm
I have a confession. I'm a sentimental sap. Yes, I'm afraid it's all bluster and bravado. I might seem like a hard nut with my flashing scimitar and titanium pegleg, but in truth, I'm like an armadillo - tough on the outside, squishy on the inside. Plop me down in front of a sappy movie, and I'll be crying buckets in two tics.

The same goes for this new wave of emo-ridden songs I'm suddenly soaked in. First it was Damien Rice (whom I hold responsible for the cringe-inducing bawlfest during "I am David"). How can one album hold so much want and heartbreak without physically melting into a puddle of angst? So if you're a sucker for mental writhing (in a good way, you masochist), go buy the album, or download "Cold Water", "The Blower's Daughter", and "Amie".

Is it the weather? Is it the lack of cheery sunshine? Maybe the boredom of each other's accents (too much of a good thing). Cuz I've just been slammed with another Brit - James Blunt. Again, your expected lashings of despair and pain. But what gets me is that while he's not the only person singing about the brutality of war, he's one of the few who've actually experienced it. "No Bravery" was written lying in a sleeping bag in a tank in Kosovo. His "You're Beautiful" vid reflects the tone of the album. Stark, yet full of emotion. And *cough* taking off his shirt helps as well, haha. Momentary panting aside, I have to stress again how good James Blunt is. The above songs along with "Cry" easily land me in the fluffiest of moods. And I've had him on repeat for an hour or more now.

So the truth is out. It doesn't take very much for this zebra to get going. Go on then, hit me.

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Old Old OLD
Tuesday. 8.2.05 10:55 am
The best birthday sms I received last night:

Jamiekins! Happy birthday! You're officially as old as I am.. Sob sob sob.. Oh well, I never liked being a teen anyways.. Hmph *bursts out crying*

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Bird Pie
Friday. 7.29.05 3:17 pm
For the past three days, I've woken up to the chirruping of a bird outside my window. Now there are many people who can wax lyrical of such early morning surprises. I am not one of them. This bloody creature's sole purpose in life seems to be to hide itself just out of reach and chirrup incessantly in the most aggravating note imaginable. And it doesn't stop until I've stumbled out of bed and thrown the window open violently in the faint hope that I might catch one of its toes in the hinges.

It's worse than an alarm clock. That at least you can fling against the wall.

I read somewhere that an average person sleeps a third of his or her life away. I'm falling behind now and it's unfair that I should miss out. It's also playing havoc with my eating habits. I don't normally wake up in time for breakfast, a very good thing as that only makes it two meals a day. But this morning I found myself in front of the TV with a bowl of muesli.

This has got to stop.

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Of Death
Tuesday. 7.26.05 10:09 pm
This begs a thought or two:

You do not die for being bad, you die
For being available...

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Pigs At Blandings
Monday. 7.25.05 10:30 pm
A new card has found its way into my already-so-full-its-seams-have-burst wallet. That factoid by itself would not be much to crow over if it wasn't for the British Council logo emblazoned boldly on the face of the card declaring me a member of its library.

And it's this library of which I feel compelled to sing praises. Admittedly at first glance, the place didn't seem much for wallowing in literary bliss. Compared to the glass 'n steel, modernist look of the [email protected] in Singapore, the KL branch with its eight or so simple racks of fiction looked almost sec school-like. 50 bucks for this? Arrrr, not by a long shot, matey.

But then I peered closer at the titles offered. And I saw Books! Ian Rankin, P. G. Wodehouse, Stephen Leather; the faaaaat-ass Jonathan Strange novel (two copies!); and war poetry...WAR POETRY! And I'd only been there for ten minutes! A strange buzzing started in my head, I felt a sudden urge to dance a happy jig. And a happy jig I would've danced too, right in full view of the various BC denizens milling about. That is if it weren't for my too-loose pants and a wonky button. As it happened, my hands were elsewhere occupied (3 paperbacks and 1 hardback), so BC lost its chance for its first indoor moon sighting.

Still 50 bucks for as many books as you want in 6 months...you get 4 books to be returned within a fortnight, so that makes at least 8 books a month. 6 months brings it to 48 books (I used a calculator) - about a buck apiece.


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Meow Meow Pussy Cat
Saturday. 7.9.05 8:23 pm
"No. 5! Yes, you. Come here. Here. Right. Now."

"No no...I saw it. Listen. You don't talk while I'm talking."

You gotta love 'em refs. Even if they can be wankers, as James would say. Except for Steve Walsh. Mmm...Steeeeeeeeve Walsh.

Still, it is rather embarrassing for the British Lions. Thrashed by the All Blacks in all three tests. No surprise there of course, but surely the Lions could've put up a better fight. Especially today: 38-19 with two AB's in the sin bin. Meow. The supposed crème de la crème of Great Britain. But then again, maybe that was their problem. It's like a taxi driver told me during a midnight drive in Singapore: the Lions aren't a team, they're a collection of teams. He thought that it would've been a better test series had it been England vs. NZ instead.

I agree. Maybe the English might've been able to reach the twenties in one of the matches then. Ha ha.

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Icky Poo
Friday. 6.24.05 2:54 am
I saw a long white scratch on my car today. I nearly died. And I tried to rub it out with my finger. It came off easily. Too easily.

It was bird poo.

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