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/u:bæ∫Ik/[n] The greatest, most superlative of its kind;[n] Elegant and stylist;[n] amalgation of German-Franco lexicon, describing hypercool translinguistic supracultural phenomenon.

Tuesday, July 27, 2004
And Aubrey was her name
A not so very ordinary girl or name

But who's to blame
For a love that wouldn't bloom
For the hearts that never played in tune

Like a lovely melody that everyone can sing
Take away the words that rhyme
It doesn't mean a thing

And Aubrey was her name
We tripped the light and danced together to the moon

But where was June
No it never came around
If it did it never made a sound

Maybe I was absent or was listening to fast
Catching all the words but then the meaning going past

But God I miss the girl
And I'd go a thousand times around the world
Just to be, closer to her than to me

And Aubrey was her name
I never new her but I loved her just the same

I loved her name
Wish that I had found a way
And the reasons that would make her stay

I have learned to lead a life apart from all the rest
If I can't have the one I want
I'll do the without the best

And how I miss the girl
And I'd go a million times around the world
Just to say, she had been mine for a day

Read my brother's blog. I'm proud of him. Something I haven't done in a long time. Busy defending this country, I haven't been properly defending the truth. Sigh.

I'm picking up too many riffs and tunes on the guitar for my calloused fingertips to catch up. Whew.

Sunday, July 25, 2004
I've always known Singapore was the very city Aldous and George had in mind when they wrote about their dystopian cities.

Have you seen the new National Day MTV? The one with little kids dressed in white, standing around City Hall and the Esplanade and the Padang, their angelic voices harmonizing to the melody of "Home".

Now, "Home" is a lovely song. Poetic. And what more could a socialist state ask for? Plug this song with gorgeous shots of cherubic children singing about home (hey, have they even been away from home at all?) and your got a heartstringtugger that'll generate a healthy dose of patriotism in every singaporean.

Take a look around. Churches are usually located beside temples and mosques. Like pluralism is made to be a fact. Sure, Sex and the City is OK, as long as it's on late night cable. More importantly, our kids sit around in discussion groups in an effort to be creative.

I think we're back in 1984.

I am drowning in the swirling eddies of time.

Next year my JC will be no more. As part of Singapore's overall plan for academic inbreeding and the throughtrain scheme, my 2 alma maters are merging into one huge Instituition.

I felt aged and disorientated when I heard the news. It's like I've stepped off the train headed for Tomorrow and I'm still waiting at the bus-stop in front of Yesterday.

Anyway. Shoutout to all Hwachong homies. it's the 30th anniversary. And the homecoming. So be there.

Spent the last 3 days at the range struggling to get a good score at the marksmanship test. I suppose I'm a decent shot. It's just my hands aren't that steady when I'm squatting down and after I've sprinted 200m. Least I didn't have to run around as a safety officer. Heh.

Today I was stuck in the lallang again. Paladin Coy got me down as an "expert consultant" for their demolition range. Bleah. But hey, if the only engineer in the battalion doesn't run around when there's explosives to play with, who will?

"Bangalore torpedo! Ignited!" And I'll sprint the 30m back to the cover point in under 17 seconds. It was pretty fun. I got to revise all my rusty demolition knowledge.

Yes, the army has trained me to do blowjobs (explosives ones, please) for them. Which is pretty darn cool. Given the right stuff, I could rig your car up to be blown to be bits. Heh.


Tuesday, July 20, 2004
Last sunday in church this Pri 6 boy hustled up to me and shoved a timeworn photograph into my face.
"are you Joses or Lucas?"
"...I'm Joses..."
"There's a huge bunch of old photographs I found in school. You were in quite a few of them. I just took this one."
And I'm still trying to quell the tsunami of emotion and nostalgia that this photograph has kickstarted.

Friday, July 16, 2004
I think I could be a great adman.

McDonald's is doing poorly for their counterattack against Spurlock's offensive. Check this pitch out. (From who else but yours truly.)

There's this horribly overweight obese guy. He plonks his huge butt down on this park bench. He pulls from his havesack a Big Mac meal he ordered takeaway over the counter. The camera gets a voluptuous shot of the molten cheese ozzing down the steaming beef patties as he unwraps his burger. He smacks his lips and begins to take a bite --

When a small, disgusted voice screams "Eww! Fast food!" Our adipose Achilles looks up and glances around the park. There are droves of fit, healthy youth interuppting their jogging and chinups to glare and sneer at this bulking blasphemy of sensible nutrition.

He withers under their gaze.

The camera then cuts to a slower, more voluptuous pan of a curvaceous blonde in a tightfit red miniskirt. She's staring straight at our jellybelly. She's walking deadstraight towards him.

She mounts herself onto his lap and huskily declares, "Who cares, teddy bear? it just tastes so goooood."

She then takes a hugh chunk of the Big Mac into her mouth and moans in utter pleasure as she chews it down.

She then gives our lucky fella a big wet kiss and winks at the camera. *twinkle*

...all together now....

"I'm Loving It!"


Sunday, July 11, 2004

Do you need a boy/girl friend now?

uh, ok. I think I've known that for some time now.

pretty eventful sunday.

Having nowhere in particular to go after service in church, Joseph and I hopped into one of the new rooms and caught Dr. James Dobson's video on homosexuality. It featured testimonies from 2 men who had walked out of the gay lifestyle into Christian ones. The one thing that stuck with me: John Paulk telling the audience: "Jesus is the man I've always needed; the man who never walks away from you." Don't laugh. Coming from an onetime gayman, it resonants. Weirdly.

then after some fast food, Celine, Jotham, Monica and I hopped onto a cab, where my name got mispronounced on national radio. By a mutual acquaintance, no less! Bleah.

Then we got a last-minute ticket for Super Size Me. It's a watchable piece of guerilla filmmaking, but Mr. Spurlock can't match up to Michael Moore's razorsharp wit and polished cinematography. But you gotta give a guy kudos when he soldiers on his McBinge even though he throws up on Day 3.

I got a Division level exercise tomorrow. Which mean some colonels and generals sit in a airconditioned room staring at wallsized maps and blue/red arrows, delivering orders while they're delivered lunch. (a Big Mac meal for you, sir? Upsized?) Hey, I'm just an OPFOR. Give me a break, yeah? a supersized one at that.

Friday, July 02, 2004
Two nights ago I was strolling down Orchard Road. As I went past Melitus Mandarin, I (along with everyone else there) didn't fail to spot the bright yellow Pagani Zonda S 7.3 parked conspiciously adjacent of the main lobby. Camera phones were clicking away and I couldn't resist moving up to it for my eyes to be saturated in pure automotive pleasure.

And I can't resist indulging in this oh-so-little fantasy of mine.

The lecture has just ended. She gathers up her loose sheets and quietly exits from the burgeoning pent-up social buzz. She walks towards the bus-stop, unsure of where she'll dine tonight. Sure of only one thing, though, it'll be by herself.

But I've already got my eye on her. I've been staking out this lot since yesterday. I rev up my Zonda Roadster and cruise up beside her. The human vomit of the lecture hall gazes upon my ride as a window winds down.

"I think this seat's for you."

She can't find words and she can't shake off the stares and gasps of incredulity. I just smile.

"It isn't polite to keep a man waiting, now is it?"

She enters the leatherbound luxury cabin, hesitant and very much excited. I throw off the clutch and accelerate off towards the Botanic Gardens.

In no time at all, we have Les Amis all to ourselves. She looks up at me over the flickering candlelight and her hands melts into mine.

After she's had the most wonderful meal of her life, I whisk her away to the Orchid Gardens and usher her into the greenhouse. It's filled with petals of every shade imagnable, but I point her to a small plot of blooms. It's a variety of orchid uniquely bred and named after her. And admidst these flowers I will escort their likeness into a small cove of quiet and privacy, where we will tarry alone.

Damn if I don't get lucky that night. Damn if I ever get enough moolah to pull all that off.

Thursday, July 01, 2004
Weiwen and I wanted to catch Japanese Story at 1930. But, to our horror, the show was sold out. It's a Thursday night, mind you. So we settle for Japanese Food instead. After eating a tad too much, we came back up to see hordes of JC kids coming out of the aforementioned show. I believe they're supposed to be studying. Darnnit.

Spiderman2 rawks. It's hollywood bubblegum done up to popcorn crisp perfection. They threw in a few good developments into the plot, and turned some superhero story pre-requisites over a few times. The acting's good from the 2 leads, although there wasn't much chemistry between Tobey and Kirsten. The dialogue they shared was pretty loaded with subtlety and all that, and they pulled it off ok, but I think I could give Tobey a run for his money. Heh.

I doubt if the rest of our everyday cinemagoers appreciated the references to Wilde and Elliot. I doubt if they were aware of the 2 sterling stage-cum-screen actors who took on the villians' role. Half of them were probably underage and couldn't catch Alfred Molina in Frida, and I'd bet 0.l in 10 saw Willem Dafoe in Shadow of the Vampire. But that's just the culturevulture snob in me again. Heh. And hey, only the eagle-eyed couldha seen how Stan Lee himself saved the day. *wink*

Kirsten Dunst is H.O.T. Did I also say she's hot? I'd give up my 11B for her to whisper to me, "Go get him, Tiger!" Ooh-er.