In Memory of Shifty

Many thanks to Daniel for picture no. 3

Insatiable

Yeah, cam-whore.

Even though I'm not eating/sleeping well, I still manage quite a few wanks of pornographic proportions; for my age that is seriously normal.

I hate that S word "study" and all its abbreviations. I'm starting to get the hang of sleeping at 4am and waking at 10am which is terribly irresponsible but nothing unusual. Dxnixl on the other hand is really working hard. Past week he did a conference in Sydney, random meetings and a newsletter which is someone else's work. I see myself demanding more quality time because he's always going to bed at like, 9pm and I'm always asleep when he leaves the house. We've become so out-of-sync it's not funny.

Work is a useful escape for me. I'm currently translating texts about ancient Persia and Israel which is really cool but it means staring into a computer for hours, staying away from sunshine and having little more than instant noodles for meals. Thinking about the money is enough to keep me going but distractions are distractions and I'm running out of excuses to stay away from my books.

SLR

Dxnixl photographed me in my undies!

RawHide

First time into Chasers and it looks very much like The Market. Dxnixl is more keen than I am to be partying, but I try to make it anyway.

High of 41 degrees. The NYE scorcher has put everyone off wearing clothes (poor cloakroom?). On the dance floor, two men dressed in nothing but jockstraps, their bums bouncing to every beat of Wayne G. Sweat. 'Manly' men who refuse to wear deodorant, some smell heavily of recently ingested amphetamines. Nice.

Trance room is better known as 'Asia'. Every man woman and child here is either Asian or the men who love them. Dxnixl is more keen here than anywhere else (surprise?). My prejudices mean everyone seems bitter and skanky, so I confine myself instead to DJ Dan Murphy and the Crystal Room.

~
More alcohol please.

People around me continue gyrating to even the shittiest music. I'm having trouble with getting onto the beat even after 4 champagnes. MDMA needed? Then a glance of DJ Jimi Harrison?

4.40am and I'm already leaving Dxnixl to the crowd of people. Heading home I bump into Simon/Freddie outside Heaven's Door, and a few hugs later I'm back home on my own with a can of sardines and Indomie before bed in just undies.

Happy New 2008.

Puss

Again, another pic of pusscat.

(That hairy hand is not mine!!! It belongs to the angmoh!)

Childhood

Going around perpetually in circles without cause or meaning. In the distance, the blinding light of man made structures is enveloped within the pitch blackness of the sky. Loneliness beckons; silence is his muse.

Chill. Shivers travel the length of my fingertips. The body is sensitive to delicate nuances of an indecisive environment.

Potty

For those Harry Potter fans out there, here is Melbourne's version of the whomping willow.



Happy Harry Potter book release day.

Ski

Photos from last year.

iPerbole?

You tell me what this is all about.


Okay, so here's a dude in Fifth Ave. New York, obviously jubilant that he's got his hands on this piece of 'technology' as they would like to call it, with the people at the back CLAPPING HANDS AS THOUGH IT IS A GRAND ACHIEVEMENT?


So yeah, you've just cashed your savings into Steve Jobs's bank account to make him (and his associates) a few thousand dollars richer. Thank you and have a nice day, let’s all clap and celebrate his riches.

Yay for the 'Yay' factor.

~

"The REVOLUTIONARY iPhone comes with mobile, internet (email, web browsing etc.) and iPod functions..."

Oh wow. This is SO DAMN unique. Like, we've just discovered that mobile phones are mobile. They've started a revolution. And internet browsing, wow, NO OTHER PHONE CAN DO IT? Give me a break. iPod functions. Fine, so that's new on the shelf, but don't we already have the Sony Ericsson K810i and other phones like it with mp3 players inbuilt into the phone? Revolutionary iPhone, they dare say.

Again, Apple has not been shy to flaunt its low battery life. 5 hours of talk/browsing/email? 16 hours of audio playback? Try run the two together, audio playback and talk, and you end up with a phone that needs a charger at every available location. Your car, your office desk, your living room, the restaurant, the toilet...

The best thing is, just like every other Apple creation, the batteries are NON-REMOVABLE. That's right. You will have to send them back the phone so that they can remove it for you (which coincidentally means that you will be cut off from talk/browsing/email/iPod for weeks till they get the batteries replaced). Built-in batteries are not user-friendly Mr. Jobs. Then again they fuel monopoly (and hence billions of $$$ extra into your pocket) so that should be a good thing for you, which is what we all want innit? (do you hear the loud applause as an extra few million dollars gets cashed into his bank account?)

Touch screen. That's what it’s all about innit. That's why everyone's calling it the sexy phone, because it comes with no buttons. Then again if you're drunk on a big night out and high on every chemical substance known to man, the last thing you want to be doing is punching a screen and sliding scroll bars just so you can make a call for a cab to take you home. I've got a Nokia that does just that in the touch of ONE button. That's right. ONE button calls a cab. With the 'revolutionary' iPhone, you will need to slide your way into your phone book and punch your way across your contacts hoping that your iPhone registers your touch (assuming also you don’t have a tremor). Ever tried using a touch screen at the Airport to select your flight? You get the drift.

Two Megapixel camera. This is the greatest creation. We've never seen it… for two years? The latest phones all come with 3, 4, and now 5MP cameras. So why has Apple stuck to the miniscule 2MP when the technology for higher pixels is already there? Why not, take out the bloody camera and tell your fans to get an idiotic digital camera if they want that function? Oh wait, you can't do that. Your market share will drop, which means less money for Mr. Jobs and the millions of employees under him. So we'll just have to chuck in the 2MP camera 'to feed the lions' then huh.

In Philadelphia, Mayor John F. Street was among those waiting in line at an AT&T store when he was asked by a 22-year-old passer-by, "How can you sit here with 200 murders in the city already?"

Street told the man: "I'm doing my job."

Enough said.

~

Apple was happy to announce to the world that the iPhone is 'patented', but a quick Google to the copycat centre of the world (a.k.a. China) and no surprises there, we've got a twin! So much for your patent, Apple.



(In case you were wondering, the REAL iPhone is on the right, and the one on the left is the clone)

It is called the P168 (I presume because 168 in Chinese means 'get rich quick', which is sooooo typically Chinese), and not only have they ripped off the wallpaper, they've also put a 2.0MP sticker next to their 1.3MP camera just because they can!

P168. Get it from the store near you. Just don't expect any applauses or fancy packaging.

Fill

We might bypass Stage 4 Water Restrictions after all.

(Pictures courtesy of Bureau of Meterology and Melbourne Water)

Kidnap

This is the victim.


This is the victim, pictured with his family at GSC 1Utama for the promo of The Simpsons movie.


These are the kidnappers, captured by 1Utama carpark CCTV, running away with the victim, helpless in the boot of a Proton Waja.

A reward of RM1000 will be given to anyone who successfully returns the victim to his family. Have fun hunting!

(Pictures courtesy of Reuters)

8.11

You know that winter is officially here when the hideous old lady on Ten News tells you that yesterday was the coldest day in Melbourne for the year (3.7°C), leaves of the alien species in Melbourne start shedding their leaves, snow starts falling in the alpine regions and electricity bills go up up up with soaring heater and dryer use.

Occasionally I am reminded of the cold when I step out in the morning with the thickest jacket I can afford (which coincidentally is not very thick at all) but otherwise I am constantly in denial; sheltered from the cold when I enter a restaurant, a room, the train, David Jones, the corner café or The Peel where the heaters are blasting hot air to keep the temperature at a balmy 28°C, its hard to imagine that winter is already here.

But when the fog comes, no degree of mind control can keep you in denial.

We've not been hit with any significant rain lately, and the fog just makes matters worse because it’s like rain without the raindrops. You can feel the droplets gather on the lenses of your glasses as well as in your well-gelled hair.

The pavements are wet from all the microscopic droplets, vision is impaired and you can feel the chill burn through the five layers of wool that you are wearing, sending shivers up your bone and into your spine where you feel the pain rattle your brains and solidify your blood.

Even more so when you have to sit for a fucking exam in the Royal Exhibition Building in Carlton (namely, the 'wooden shed'), with no adequate heating, 15m high ceilings that dissipate whatever heat that is available and stone cold wooden floors under the thick soles of your shoes.



8.11am. 5.2°C. Six 400-word essays away and two frozen palms.

Bummer.

House

Call me crazy but I've been working for the past 18 hours on a template for the house I'd like to build when I have the money (and the land). Yes I know, I should be studying, but hey, everyone's gotta have a break SOMETIME right??? Although I'm not very good with layouts I think so far it's been quite good.

No, I did not nick it out of some real estate site, no, I didn't use any professional architectural software for the designing, and no, I didn't ask someone to help me do it. I used Adobe Photoshop, plain and simple, and drew each item manually using the line and polygon tools.

So YES. I'm proud of it and I won't be fucked if you're not.

I even measured out the lengths of all the doors, sinks, windows, room measurements, staircase, trees and decks to make sure that they were life-sized. I got a lot of the measurements from actual products, such as doors and sinks you'd be able to buy in Ikea (not that I'd buy Ikea if I could afford to build a house!).

I'm too free already hor?

I estimate the price to be an upwards of AU$1,500,000 in today's currency, not including stamp duty, garden design and appliances (which will, of course, be from SMEG).

Any takers? :)

Oh and there's no driveway because inner city Victorian style houses in Melbourne don't usually have driveways. There's no land for it anyway.

Home

Yeah. That feeling again. Homesickness.

Addiction

Look familiar to you? No? Well. Everybody's reading it. Everybody's immersing themselves in the bitchy cesspool that is her blog. Everybody, including the boyfriend is addicted to the Singlish infested, pink cutie blog that is Xiaxue's.

First it was the Girls Out Loud movies that I recommended to people after a tip off from a stranger in the UK. I found it hilarious because it not only touched on a lot of things close to home (and four folded my homesickness... sob!), but also because it was fucking BITCHY.

And then I stumbled upon her blog and foolishly promoted her address to a FEW people I knew (including the boyfriend and voila. Worse than heroin addiction nia. Everybody kua kua reading it now.

The other day I caught him reading post after post, trawling through cyberspace to get a larger slice of this ah lian girl, neglecting ME and DINNER and the CAT for that bitch.

So I asked him to STOP READING IT... but no, no, today, he sent me a photo from her blog asking me what it was:



The 'goddess' had taken the photo while on a visit to KL. I was kind enough to inform my angmoh that this was one of the many street dildos that are littered across KL city, where you could get your anal fix when you needed it most.

Like, HELLO... who the **** takes pictures of FIRE HYDRANTS??? Ok so maybe I take pictures of bloody flowers and shit, but hey that's still better than taking a picture of a FH.

Fine lah. I mean, I don't mind if everybody is addicted to kennysia because his blog is quite well done and there's not so much pink in it, but HER?????

And in one post, she says that US Marine Lance Corporal Daniel Smith, who was convicted in the Phillippines for RAPE, was HOT. Apparently, its not rape if the person who rapes you is hot. Anybody with a gun license, tell me. I need you to SHOOT her to stop the infestation.

Famous quote from the 'goddess':

I am xiaxue. I didn't choose fame. It chose me.

ARRRGH. I don't care if people don't read my blog. That's fine. I'm not a celebrity blogger. My blog entries are shit, long, boring and I do not have many cute pictures of bunnies on my website either. I write for my own pleasure and she writes for yours. I don't have enough credentials to allow me to mingle with other famous celebrities, or get free nose jobs, or a pink PSP from Malaysia (FOC too, damnit!).

My blog is black and not pink, I don't post stuff even remotely close to her level of bitchy-ness, and I don't appear on Mediacorp 5 for your entertainment and leisure.

So what if you don't read my blog. I don't care. But I care if you read hers.

It's INSANE.

I know what you are thinking. And I know you bloody Googled for her. I can smell the stench of ah lian-ness slowly spreading across the world. Fine. Go away then. Go get addicted to her blog. Don't need to visit mine anymore!

Click here to get INSTANTLY addicted.

Go on. I know you want it. Everybody else is doing it.

Bah.

Project

I've begun a new project with plants; this time I'm trying to cultivate moss in little jars. I stole the moss from the Melbourne International Flower Show a few weeks ago (yeah so screw me) and have transfered them into nice little jars.

From left to right, Thuidiopsis sparsa, Bartramia mossmaniana, and Ptychomnion aciculare.



I have another jar with Sphagnum moss too but the pictures I took of them look ugly so for the sake of keeping up the 'good' standard of pics on my blog I shall not post them here. Too bad hey. Tough.

A close up view of the jars.




I'm quite happy about how they are doing, considering that they were dry as crisp when I first had them. Even the green chlorophyll was not visible; the stalks were dry and had shrivelled up. I popped them into some tap water much later and voila! Lazarus effect at its best.

I made the mistake of putting them in tap water because the chlorine content started to make the plants sick, but now that I'm using distilled water everything looks good and green.

Lets hope they'll grow. I'm so excited!

Flower Show

Melbourne International Flower Show, 31st March 2007

Tramcar

Two drowsy nights, sleeping later and later doing absolutely nothing online. I've been holding up by surviving on my regular chocolate fix and occasional perve at the gym, but otherwise relentlessly kicking for some excitement and unpredictability.

One hundred bucks away, and a tram full of eager-to-be-drunk passengers, I made my way into the dimly lit space. Marcs shirt, cheesy $10 jeans and a dollop of Issey, I felt like I was worth $1mil.

Dips to start off the evening with the homophobic chef and half a dozen screaming queens sipping away at the cheap Chardonnay and watered-down vodka-on-ice. The streets outside seemingly glide across the windows like moving portrait on the wall. Sweet. Looking out at the people walking on the pedestrian pathways along High St, I’m suddenly reminded of Howl’s moving castle.

Playing with the four forks and three knives on the table in front of me, I realise that they are, in fact, the same length. So much for the 'fine dining' experience. Even the plates are the same diameter.

The couple next to us feels the jitters as we go about our flamboyant conversations across the length of the tram. We're having a good time at the expense of others. How rewarding! We should crash more parties like this next time.

The boyfriend takes photos of me on his camera, with the wrong exposure, wrong ISO, wrong aperture size, and wrong focus. I look like a fuzzy monster, illuminated from the back.

5-minute stopover at Albert Park. Group photo. Everybody smiles naturally except me; I look like a prostitute with my sly posture. I'm so out of sync after the four glasses of chardy and two champy, one Bourbon-on-ice and a sip of red from the boyfriend's glass. Chalks is feeling unwell; his head is as hot as a hotpot. Taxi home for the poor boy. Wish he could stay longer and get drunk together.

Back on the tramcar and we're having Cognac that tastes like jet-fuel. I can tell the waiter is starting to get pissed because we keep swapping seats around the tram. Its fun. Straight men just don’t get it.

Old couple opposite us are really starting to lose their nerve. Sorry for the gay-gestures, we can't help it. Especially the old shriveled lady, she's over it now, playing with her dessert while her husband looks on. Yes, go on, dig deeper into that pudding of yours, bitch.

Harder, I said.

She jolts her knife into the pudding and crushes it. Good girl.

~

The Peel. How did we end up here? Dancing trashily on the dance floor I attract no attention. My Aquilla's are cutting into my heels as I dance to Dannii. I can't remember anything else.

Soon before I know it I'm sitting on the couch at home. How did I get here?

Happy birthday to the boyfriend.

Perseverance

Kylie

Presenting the Queen herself.