Archive for October, 2006

My Favourite Comic Strip

October 21, 2006

Pearls Before Swine by Stephan Pastis

PBS 1

PBS 2

PBS 3

PBS 4

Thanks for the laughs, Pastis!

Advertisements

While I’m At It…

October 20, 2006

Random photos I have on file.

Milo Dino

My first Milo Dino. A bit late, I know, but it was invented in the years I was away.

Mochi

Mochi looking like a planet.

Orbituary of a Laptop

My dearly departed laptop.

Mosque by Night

Mosque by night. Ok, not a good photo. Better keep my day job.

Reading

Reading while waiting in vain for the rain to let up.

South Park A-gi-bail

South Park A-gi-bail.

Oh no!

“Oh no! What have I done?”

“I don’t want to know, don’t tell me!”

House TSnapped TRobot TPark T

I want these T-shirts!

Oh! And…

Chuck’s Bday

Ugly Shoes Competition #001

October 20, 2006

Ok, so BGF and I have been talking about this for some time already.

We will take photos of ugly shoes we spot and post it on our blogs as a weekly competition so that readers can vote if either my choice or her’s is uglier.

So this is my submission for this week, our inaugural Ugly Shoes Competition. It’s a bit lame, I know. I can do better, but this is the only photo I got right now, so it’ll have to do.

Za’s Ugly Shoe #001 – Purple and Glittery, the combination of instant and perpetual ugliness.

Ugly Shoe #001

See here for BGF’s submission for this week!

Happy voting! (Which means vote for me!)

[edit]

Just comment to vote!

And no voting on both sides!

And no multiple votes!

I’ve Always Wondered How…

October 18, 2006

People come about to posses ugly shoes. Maybe their shoes broke when they were out and they needed a cheap and quick substitute pair. Maybe they were their moms’. Maybe the shoes were dirt dirt dirt dirt cheap. Maybe their boyfriends thought they were fashionable. Maybe they were gifts. Maybe they were uniform shoes, part of some equally bad blouse and skirt. Maybe..  maybe.. maybe… some people just have bad taste.

Was roaming the shoe department when a lady nearby, beaming with much delight, exclaimed to her companion, who was some distance away, “Look! Aren’t these sooo nice?!” She held up her newly-shod feet.

I couldn’t help but sneak a peek.

“NOOOO!!” I screamed in my head. My eyes convulsed in an epileptic fit.

They were high heeled mules, with an unflattering crescent peep toe, in black patent leather, adorned with a metallic buckle set with rhinestones. NO NO NO NO NO!

Everything about the shoes were wrong. Mules are ugly. High-heeled mules are highly ugly. It’s no longer a peep-toe if the opening is so big it shows most of your toes. Patent leather should be kept simple. Metallic buckle with rhinestones is.. is… is.. ugly.

And the thing I don’t get is that the lady was exclaiming in such an amazed delighted tone, as if she was setting her eyes on such a style of shoes for the first time in her life, as if the shoes were the latest design out of some fancy label, or as if the shoes were the most unique, most quirky, most funky thing ever. The shoes were none of the above. None. They were ugly. I’m usually not a judgmental person (if I may say so myself), so if I say it’s ugly, it’s got to be ugly. I have never used the word ugly so many times in one thought ever.

So People Don’t Really Change Much

October 17, 2006

Another wedding last Saturday.  Old friends, classmates.  Nice to see them again.  Some look exactly as they did when we were in school.  And that is a mighty long time ago, in case you’re wondering.  Some still dress the same.  Some are still with the same partners.  Some have mini-versions of themselves.  Some still have the same careers, some have had quite a few.

It’s quite astounding, to think that so much time has passed since we sat in the same lecture theatre, lunched at the same canteen, mugged for the same exams, laughed at the same jokes.

We are now older, hopefully wiser.  Survived mid-20’s crisis, hopefully ready for mid-30’s crisis.

It’s nice to know that everyone is still the person they were.  The joker, the smoothtalker, the adventurer, the entrepreneur, the idealist, the practicalist, the grown up, the never grow up.

Sometimes I wish time would stand still.  But when time has passed and the good still remains, it’s even sweeter.

Question

October 7, 2006

Why do brides carry a bouquet and wear a veil?

Are the flowers meant to enhance her beauty?  Give her a nice fragrance?  Make her look more demure?

And why the veil?  To shield her beauty from those who are not going to be her husband?  But the veil is always transparent!

Update

October 7, 2006

Just got back from a friend’s wedding. A high school friend. We’ve known each other for a long time now. We haven’t seen each other much in the last 15 years though. Still, it was nice to share the special occasion.

So the friend who was preggers when I first came home has given birth a month ago. Another boy. Cute.

I realised that it is a luxury to be able to wear stilettoes and carry slim clutches. When one is a mother, one wears sensible shoes and carry huge totes.

Stilettoes rock.

The Scapegoat

October 6, 2006

A screenplay for an animated short clip.

Black screen.

Voice over: “Leviticus chapter 16, verses 21 and 22. Aaron shall lay both his hands on the head of the live goat, confess over it all the iniquities of the children of Israel, and all their transgressions, concerning all their sins, putting them on the head of the goat, and shall send it away into the wilderness by the hand of a suitable man. The goat shall bear on itself all their iniquities to an uninhabited land; and he shall release the goat in the wilderness.”

The sound of hoofs and sandals walking on sand. The screen brightens to a desert scene. A young goat is standing, looking quite lost. A pair of sandaled feet behind him. A hand stretches down from outside the screen, giving the goat a gentle push on his rump.

Man: “Go on, little fella, go take a hike in the wilderness.”

Goat thinks: “Then what?”

His question is not answered but he knows his fate is sealed. He plods away.

He is a picture of poor-thingness. His ears droopy, eyes teary, sniffling. He is much maligned and feeling very sorry for himself indeed. He walks for who knows how long, not really looking where he’s going. It’s all wilderness anyway.

Far away voice: “Hey fellas, look! Here he comes now!”

Far away voice louder now: “Yo Dude, over here!”

The goat looks around. The voice belongs to another goat perched on a rock. The goat looks around behind him. No one for miles, as far as the eyes can see. And beyond.

Goat: “Guess he must mean me.”

Goat walks over, real slow. He gets there eventually and looks up at the goat on the rock. The sun is in his eyes. He squints.

Goat on rock: “Say, are you Scapegoat 2006?”

Goat, with more than a tinge of resignation: “I guess.”

Goat on rock: “C’mon over!”

Goat walks around the big rock. Behind there, in the shade of the rocks and in the nooks and crannies is a large multitude of goats. Some are very very old, some old, some rather old, some middle-aged, some adults, some teenagers, a few youths. They are all chilling. Some lift a hoof in greeting. Some nod. The one who called him over looks just a bit older than himself.

Goat on rock: “Say, how’s the high priest doing?”

Goat: “Pretty well, I guess.”

Goat on rock: “How long’s his beard now?”

Goat: “Long.”

Goat on rock: “Perform any miracles lately?”

Goat: “Some.”

Goat on rock: “Aah… Good ol’ high priest. He’s a good bloke, the guy.”

Goat on rock sits back, crosses his front legs behind his head, closes his eyes with a contented sigh.

Goat looks around. Everyone is chilling.

Goat: “Soo… what do we do?”

Goat on rock, with eyes closed: “Nothing. Nothing much happens around here. Find a spot you like, chill. Next year, it’s your turn to look out for the newbie.”

Goat sighs.

Fade out to black.

Text Conversation

October 3, 2006

BGF: Had a cab uncle who asked me to intro to him my 30plus year old single friends cos he looking for wife. Hilarious.

Me: Must be the same uncle who asked for my name card so that we can be “friends”.

For the record, I have nothing against cab drivers. I have friends who are cab drivers. The problem is that the cab driver is old enough to be my father. Even had the cheek to ask me to guess how old he is! Win…

People look for love in the weirdest places.

Or perhaps they’re not really looking for love. In the case of BGF’s cab uncle, he just wants a pretty, docile lady to take care of his needs. Maybe that’s how some people measure love.

I know people who measure love by how much they do for each other (everything).

By how many presents they get for Christmas (at least 3).

How expensive the LV bag is (way too).

How well they adhere to each other’s “rules” (with the penalty of cold war and veiled threats).

How often they call in to report their movements (every hour).

How long they talk on the phone before they sleep every night (2 hours, including many minutes of plain silence).

How much they agree with each other’s point of view (totally, to death).

Sad world.

Resolution #10175 – Day 24

October 3, 2006

I’ve been good. As a result of my steadfast adherence to curfew time (with the exception of one night and only because I took a nap that evening), I’ve had:

– more sleep

– less yawns

– more reading time

– less TV time

– more dream recalls

– less blog entries

– more at-home time

– less social life

– more  money

– less shopping

Oh well, win some lose some.