homeboy , i came to party

The weekend has arrived.
And as is customary in our little cage of an island, your weekend activities are pretty limited.
Theres :
Going to orchard.
Going to *insert random shopping centre here*
Going to *insert movie theatre here*

Yeah, its pretty standard fare.
But for most of my friends and/or acquaintances, its time to “partaaay”…
Yes….its time to hit the clubs.
To put on their spiffiest clothes.
To do their hair, to the best of their ability.
To spray on gallons of perfume.
To trim their facial hair (primarily the girls)
To drink a few drinks, have a few laughs.
To basically go home, unsatisfied and frustrated.

Top ten things that annoy me about clubs in our little island in the sun:

10. The disgusting amount of cigarette smoke in the air. Studies have shown(in the ugandan health journal, 2001) that cigarette smoke has the amazing effect of masking peoples body odour and bad breath, as well making females appear more attractive than they actually are.

9. The smell on your clothes when you get home. A combination of alcohol, nicotine and sweat. Since I have friends who are just sooo good at getting drunk, flakes of vomit have been spotted on my clothes on a few occasions. It has also been noted that this lethal combination has been used, in “refreshing mist-spray” form, to put wild rhinoes and wildebeests to sleep.

8. The vomiting. Yes, the vomiting. It is guaranteed that every club you go to will have someone pretending theyre linda blair [ from the exorcist*cue chilling theme song*] and practicing their projectile-vomiting skills. I swear, ive seen some people shoot stuff outta their mouths that is still flying across the face of our planet.

7. The exorbitant and fluctuating entry prices. I dunno, has anyone noticed that every weekend,, the entry prices for our clubs seem to fluctuate. Its like, if you queue up between 6am and 6.02am, you pay a different price. And these prices arent exactly a paltry amount or anythin. Prices are decided based on whether or not the owner is wearing his lucky knickers.

6. The repetitive play lists. The DJs in our lovely city repeat their play-lists, week in, week out. After a while, clubbers are able to predict which song follows the current one. Thus providing the fat, ugly guys with ample time to mount the podium and dance to “shake that ass, watch yourself”

5. The bouncers. Has anyone ever noticed these huge, steroid munching bouncers are so very nice to attractive ladies, but are amazingly rude to the guys? Ah well, I would be peeved too if I one day realized that steroids cause permanent impotency. So, no mr bouncer dude, you werent “just drunk”..it’s a serious problem. Good luck with it.

4. The ugly chicks who think theyre oh-so-hot. Listen up lady, just cause theres a ratio of 199,871 guys : 1 girl, doesn’t mean that all the guys are gonna fawn over you. Maybe you need more cigarette smoke surrounding your face.

3. The “original hip-hoppers”. You’ll see these guys, arms folded, standing against the walls, decked out in “hip-hop gear”(pirated goods for sure..i saw a guy wearing “FAT farm”), looking all mean and aggressive. Theyre tryin to show their displeasure and disapproval that anything remotely “un-gangsta- is being played. Even when they play tupac. Good work lads. Use up your money to stand in a corner and nod your head.Vigorously. Very smart.

2. The fights. These happen all the time as well. They usually take place on the dance floor, and are quickly ended by the bouncers, seemingly trained in tae-bo AND ballet.
Sentences that often trigger fights:
“the bartender gave me less bourbon than you. I hate you and therefore, I must kill you.”
“you accidentally kneed my head.”
“I didn’t mean to smooch your girl.our lips just bumped into each other”
“I hate this song.how dare you have the audacity to dance to it.”
“I want bhangra!i want bhangra!" *hop hop hop*
“youre staring at me arent you! At the hideous mole across my face right!i shall sadistically disembowel you.”

1. The mosh pit phenomenon. 10pm-1am. Dance floor has just the right amount of people. Not too many, not too little. 1.01am onwards…the mosh pit phenomenon kicks in. The dance floor becomes so packed, it would put the crowd at a mcdonalds during the hello-kitty-soft-toy-buying-days to shame. And the people don’t seem like theyre dancing anymore. Seems more like a mosh pit at a slayer ( \m/ ) concert. Seriously, I don’t wanna rub up against some huge tamley dude named selva.its just disturbing, even traumatic.

yeah that was my list.
if you dont like it, have fun at your club of choice.
beware the vomit.
for all those reasons, im gonna be staying away from the clubs this weekend.
And a few more weekends as well.

I’ll watch southampton fc beat arsenal instead.
I can dream cant i.

thats it for today.
Love to all..you know who you are.
Over n out.

dip trip , flip fantasia

N.S...national service.

To say that it is the bane of my existence would be putting it mildly.
True, things could have been much much worse.
I could have been posted to stay on tekong(offshore army island) and polish guns or something.

So don’t get me wrong, I am more than happy to have been posted to the police force and made all the friends ive made.
As well as gain all the experience Ive gained.

Ord date - 27may2005

Yeah,that’s when im all done with my stint.

the gut wrenching thing is that, as the period between now and then shortens, the days between now and then seem to stretch longer and longer.
I swear, the days are seemingly 40 hours long.
I feel nauseous just thinking of work.

Its not the work itself that bothers me.
Trust me, if im handed a task, I usually complete it to the best of my ability.
Much to my chagrin, it is the level of uninhibited exploitation of the ns guys that I simply abhor.

To be completely honest, I don’t think the police station could function without the ns guys.
What annoys me is that when its time to claim the credit, the regulars are always there.
Always.
I have never seen an instance where an ns man gets due recognition.

Every month, the hag in charge of ns guys in my division(hairy skinny,for readers of the old blog)sends out a warning letter to our homes, saying how ns men will be punished, etc.
my parents simply throw these letters away, unopened.
theyve wisened up, you see.
Nobody has ever received a letter praising the ns men.

always the first to get the blame.always the last to get the credit(if ever).

To be honest, I know a load of ns guys who are better policemen than the regulars.

what don’t we do?
we get calls at our homes at ungodly hours(4-5am, asking for immediate deployment of men).
we handle the promotions and rankings of officers.
we win all the sports events.
we are always deployed for major events.
we get measly salaries.
Our hair and appearance are constantly scrutinized.
we get overworked.

After this meaningless tirade I just launched, I feel even more disillusioned.

I feel that ive become a mindless drone.

That’s what national service does.
It rapes your brain.
it brainwashes you, to obey the “superiors” at every beck and call.

Its singapores very own method of controlling the population.

Of dictating what they think.
How else can 1 political party perennially win the elections?
The male population is turned into spineless, drooling drones, through the crafty method of compulsory national service.

Sigh.

My vitriol knows no bounds, apparently.
There we go.
ive dared to go on and challenge “the perfect government”.

Hell, even my grammar,vocab and diction have steadily been on the wane since enlisting.

Ok enough of that, I wouldn’t want to bore you guys any further.

But let me reiterate, I am not whining.
The friends ive made during NS are extremely precious to me.
My squadmates/officemates and I have been through everything possible.
The sense of camaraderie I have with them is unmatched.
And I would put my life in their hands.
I met frinn while in NS.
And that’s the best thing to ever happen to me.
Ive learnt a million new things working as a police officer.
And seen things sometimes I wish I hadn’t.
some things which will undoubtedly affect me for the rest of my life.

the phase im in now, commonly referred to as the “pre-ord blues”, is a common phenomenon.

you see your buddies slowly leaving you , one by one.
you see that your boss doesn’t respect the fact that you’ve put your blood into your work for 2 solid years.she could at least lighten your work load towards the end of your tenure.
But being a typical slavedriver, she increases it.well, you only get what you give.

aite im tired.
Physically and mentally.
Thankfully, I have amazing friends.
and an even more amazing gf.

So life is pretty sweet.

Apologies if I bore you.

The boy wonder does have a day job you know.
And sometimes, you guys have to read about it as well.

So till next time.
Keep the faith.
And be happy with what you got.

ashes in the fall

Been a long time
Shouldn’t have left you
Without a dope beat
To step to.

And with that pretty little ditty, the boy wonder returns.
After the demolition of the old blog, ive been fooling around with templates.
Note the word fooling.

As some of you have been fortunate, nay, blessed enough to see, the other template was …..well how should we put this……a tad gay?
I mean the font was pink for chrissakes...

After several threatening smses and tags, I decided to change the layout.
To something just a bit more manly.
Thought it wasn’t easy.

After putting up the new template, the font sizes were just way off…
Hell, they were as off as gurmit singh(aka ryan seacrest #2)’s wisecracks.

See the problem was, I, being the computer-genius that I am,thought that by holding ‘ctrl’ and scrolling the mouse thingie, I was changing the size.

Sometimes, I just outdo myself.

Thankfully, ive managed to restore some normality to what formerly looked like a blog for the severly blind.

Random point of information -> Robertson quay is, in my books, officially one of the top10 strangest places in Singapore, along with whampoa drive, pasir ris, sengkang, punggol and boon lay.

Strange things seen there : many strange Japanese people walking many equally strange- looking dogs.[yes, japaneso-san,have fun walking your robot dogs.and your cyborg children.]

a white dude with boobs running topless.[egads, my eyes.i had to remove them.i am typing via a stick attached to my forehead, and have mastered Braille]

A middle-aged tamley fellow swinging some sort of adapter wildly around his head.[yesssssss mr kalari-trained warrior.let us see how your trusty adapter-of-death stands, against a taurus.45 revolver.retard.]

there were other strange things and instances.
but the one that took the cake was something like this:

Well, frinn and I were sitting on this bench, and we saw this lady on a cycle.as she was riding by,I saw something moving in her basket….lo and behold, as we focused on the moving black object, we both simultaneously realized that it was a…hold your breath…a black monkey. I kid you not.

She has a random black monkey as her domesticated pet.
Mad props to you lady.
Good luck with the furniture .and your children’s safety.

Btw,I hate rap nowadays. oooh…shady and g-unit have beef with ja rule and murder inc…(or so I think)…young buck stabbed some dude who slapped Dre....
*im quaking in my shoes*
dudes, why don’t you guys just settle this over a game of madden’05 on the ps2 or something yeah?how about a "rim-size" competition?
I mean come on.
this “big war” aint impressing nobody. although it does garner you fellas loadsa attention.
good plan boys.good plan.

As Chali 2Na from Jurassic 5(now theres hip hop and rap at its finest) once said,

”rappers should all just become vegetarian and drop the stale beef(s)”

these petty fights and repetitive beats, coupled with mindless lyrics, which are characterizing rap and hip-hop nowadays, they are an insult to the rap/hip-hop of yesteryear.

from run dmc, through the beastie boys and a tribe called quest, past the Roots and jurassic5, uptil N.W.A, RATM(they are kind of a rap[metal] group after all),cypress hill, tupac and jay-Z, all these rappers are being put to shame. their legacy is in tatters.

can you imagine any modern day hip-hopper go, instead of the mandatory “drop it like its hot” or “get your eagle on”,

can you imagine them ever going

“f**k tha police, comin straight from the underground” (N.W.A)

or

“they rally round tha family!with a pocket full of shells"(ratm)

instead?

I doubt it.

so from now onwards, im gonna be boycotting all modern rap and hip-hop.

from now on, im embracing…..

Im embracing music that has meaning.
That has soul.
That has passion.
Forget rock and roll.

From this moment on,
I’ll be listenin
To the true artistes.
like Ashlee Simpson.
Britney.christina.Jessica.shania
Simple plan,blue and, lastly,Mariah.

Or any male/female/boyband/”punk”rocker who the media suckers me into adoring.

Times are-a changing.
Yes, they are a-changing.

on another note, work couldn’t be worse.
I’ll let you all in on the gory details of my wonderful job some other day.

Till next time,
stay funky people.
im out.

new beginnings

'sup people

ive decided to make this brand new blog just to keep my friends up to date with whats goin on in my life.
entries wont be as long as before.
gonna keep em short and simple.

life is really short.
i realize that instead of whining about the redundant things, one should concentrate on the more pertinent issues.
although it is very entertaining to poke fun at the retards that populate our planet.

on another note, im gonna curb the vulgarities, simply because my dad stumbled across le olde blog(those who used to read it….was a tad vulgar yeah)and he was none too pleased, if you get my drift.

So I got the "do something more with your life,don’t become a typical disgusting and vulgar teenager" speech.
Come on, I bet you’ve all gotten that at some point or the other.
No? only me? ah well.
nobody got the "dont put marbles into your nose" speech before?
ok ok howz about the "dont eat insects you find lying under your bed" speech?
only me?
sigh.

gripe of the day : racism in football.
seriously, its absolutely apparent. when you watch any spanish primera liga match, or even an italian serie A match, you can hear the monkey chants and whistling aimed towards the black players.
come on you morons, how can you jeer the player based on his skin colour.
and especially in football, a sport where non-whites rule supreme.
the greatest players of all time have been non-white.
from all the way back to pele and eusebio, through weah and gullit, to ronaldinho and ronaldo, these players are not remotely "white". and the african players, like eto'o and okocha, or the french ones,like henry and vieira, how can these players be taunted if they are so supremely gifted.
im baffled by the racist culture prevalent in these football stadiums.
i suggest puttin the racist fans(if they can be even termed this) on the guillotine.
behead them i say.
dont get me wrong, racism in football is prevalent in singapore too, but not to such a degree.
its the occasional "hey blackie kayu" comment in the local stadiums that are distasteful, but dont accurately represent the sentiments of the masses.
the same however cannot be said about the stadiums across europe.

thats all for now.
no tagboard on this page....theres one on the main site though...arzish.com
dont worry, not all the entries are gonna be as serious.
most of em will be as irrelevant and extraneous as ever.
so till next time, have a good life.
love to family friends n frinn.
im out.

my chemical romance - to the end

He calls the mansion not a house,but a tomb.
He's always choking from the stench and the fume.
The wedding party all collapsed in the room.
So send my resignation to the bride and the groom.
[Let's go down]

This elevator only goes up to ten.
He's not around; he's always looking at men
Down by the pool.
He doesn't have any friends as they are.
Face down and bloated, snap shot with the lens.

If you marry me, would you bury me?
Would you carry me to the end?

So say goodbye to the vows you take
.And say goodbye to the life you make.
And say goodbye to the heart you break.
And all the cyanide you drank.

She keeps a picture of the body she lends.
Got nasty blisters from the money she spends.
She's got a life of her own
And it shows by the Benz
she drives at 90 by the Barbies and Kens.

If you ever say never too late.
I'll forget all the diamonds you ate.
Lost in coma and covered in cake.
Increase the medication.
Share the vows at the wake.
[Kiss the bride]