The porcupine love story..

How do porcupines meet, and fall in love, and mate to produce baby porcupines (otherwise known as porcupine-nuts?!).

Do they look at each other's bristly prickly whatever you call their exteriors, to determine which one's a better choice? For the males for examples, is it the stiffer, thicker, more volumious their, erh, pricks, the more fertile and healthier they are?

Then what about the females? How do they flirt with the males? Do they like wave their bristly bits around, flaunting it like women do their breasts? Or do they fling their sharp needle-like body parts at their male counterparts, infusing them with their own bodily fluids (porcupine enchantment)!

And how do they mate and have babies? Ouch, the very thought of it hurts. (That's why I like clean-shaven men I guess. Bristly stubble is a major turn-off for me! That's why I cannot change jobs and be a porcupine...)

Whatever it is, I must say I admire their single-mindedness in overcoming so many prickly issues, to find true love. So I must wish them true and everlasting porcupine love. I just hope they don't spear each other to death that's all.

Familiarity breeds contempt....

If that maxim holds true, then you folks have to keep me away for a reasonable length of time, before letting me see you.

Otherwise, I may get sick and tired of you very soon.

Life's a bitch...

It's inexplicable. I can't even explain it, and I won't even start, to account for my current state of mind.

I'm sure the people around me has noticed that I've been acting weirdly recently - alternating between moments of distrait and silly ridiculousness.

It's a deep rut that I've found myself in for a couple of weeks now, and it's frustrating that I can't seem to find my way out of this rut, not to mention, not knowing what got me here in the first place.

So now, I feel like some wondering restless ghost who can't find its resting place. So night after night, I'm wondering up and down the corridors of my life, seeking, looking, searching for that elusive something which will set my mind, and my heart, at rest.

It may not be a missing something that explains my current predicament. It may be a certain something I have to give up, to retain my life's equlibrium. What's to keep and what's to give up, you tell me?

Sometimes, life's certainly a bitch...

Another one of those moments...

It's a lousy day, but I'm not sure why....

I just feel..well..lousy. I feel something's not quite right and I can't quite put my finger on it. It's one of those contradictory, conficting moments. Again.

I want to be alone, and yet I want somebody to cuddle up against.
I want quiet, and yet I want some noise for company.
I feel fat, but I'm constantly feeling hungry.
I'm hungry, but there's nothing I feel like eating.
I'm bored at home and and I want to go out for a breather.
When I'm out, I'm sick of the crowds and I want to go home.

There's something thing with me, and I don't know what. Nothing's wrong with me, I'm fine.

All I know is, it's going to be a looonnnnggg week....

Sigh.

I woke up one day and forgot who I am...

E, in her random thought of the day, today, was just wondering what would happen if she wakes up one day and find her elephant memory bank wiped clean.

Empty. Zero. Blank.

Well, that's what I feel like now, and I'm feeling none too pleased about it.

Well, by some strange unfortunate occurence, actually more stupid and idiotic than anything else, the last 6 years of my electronic life has been wiped out totally, leaving me feeling really cheated. Not to mention really pissed at times.

I used to have this really impressive, not to mention organised list of Favourites, of my favourite websites, ranging from so-darn-good blogs to travellogues to e-books to Calvin & Hobbes cartoons to interior decorations to currency calculators to world time calculators to converters to fortune telling sites to online bookstores blah blah blah. Essentially, my whole life, in electronic form. Some of these sites I can google them, but for those that I chanced upon because my lucky star was shining above my halo-ed head, I've lost them forever.

And this is just internet Favourites. I haven't even mention about the amount of emails that I have lost, just because. And there were a couple that were of great sentimental value. Love letters, followed by Hate letters, and then Make-up letters. Little silly moments of mirth. A quick jot of genius. Vignettes of office life. All captured electronically, and now all gone. (This is the part where I put my head down on the table and weep. Copiously.)

There was this blog that somehow sparked my spirit and I felt an instant affinity for. And now I can't find the life of it find it. It's forever lost in the great big World Wide Web, and I don't even know how to start looking for it. I am so upset I could just cry.

I feel like I've lost some years of my life. I feel like I've lost the best years of my life. And that I'll never ever get it back. It's like waking up one day, and finding out you never had a past. And without a past, what kind of future can there be?

Life sucks.

My sense of ridiculous saves the day!

I don't know about you, but I have a very strong affinity towards all things ridiculous.

And you know what? The ridiculous thing about being ridiculous is, it's just so hard to define what ridiculous is. Just like "nice"! What on earth is "nice"?! It's just one of those words that everyone knows and everyone uses, but nobody is able to give an exact definition to!

Apparently, "ridiculous" refers to the absurd, the silly, the preposterous; things that make you laugh. Huh?! Whatever...

Anyway, all sorts of wierd ridiculous people exist in this ridiculous world we live in. So I guess I'm just one of those ridiculous ones.

(Now why am I meandering all over the place about being ridiculous?! Now that's ridiculous!)

Well, as I was saying, I have a well-developed sense for all things ridiculous. I hunt down ridiculous things like how the glutton hunts down food. I am drawn to it like the moth is drawn to the flame. It is my aphrodisiac. I am attracted to it, I am amused by it, and most of all, I encourage it.

When the world comes to an end, or when I lose all my limbs to flesh-eating bacteria, or when I lose my job and family and all my friends and have to resort to begging and sleeping on the streets, love will not surely keep me alive, but my sense of the ridiculous will. (By the way, if I should ever go into a coma, you people please sit by my bedside and tell me ridiculous things. Update me on my favourite ridiculous blogs can?!)

Likewise, when I become the first female Singaporen President, or when I ursurp somebody's throne, anybody's will do, as the Queen, or when I become the best-selling female author of all time, beating even the likes of Agatha Christie, and of Chinese books no less, my sense of the ridiculous will surely keep me as human as the fishmonger in the market.

Now I wonder what Ridiculous, personified as a super-hero will look like. Most likely, he'll have some corny super-hero name, and super-hero attire wise, he'll be a fashion disaster, wearing yesterday's rags, leftover from Versace's last decade's clothes bins, and most likely, the only super hero who trips over his own two feet while trying to get somewhere to save the world, by telling corny jokes. But he's so bad at delivering the punchlines he's pretty much a failure saving anybody's day! Super hero getting thrown eggs at for telling bad jokes during his stand-up comedienne routine. Now that's a joke!

So, anybody got a good joke to share?!

Fine! I'm boring!

I've made a new year blog resolution this year. I shall no longer share with you my deep insightful philosophical meanderings, because SOMEONE actually said I was becoming a bore!

Fine! If all you want is funny mindless entertainment type blogs, I'll just shamelessly pander to the taste of my audience, leaving aside any sense of blogger integrity! Never mind my strong almost-religious feelings about digging into the deepest (smelliest?) recesses of my heart and pouring out my life, through words, more often than not written in typical Singlish style, to you my readers! Hmph! Pearls to smelly swine!

My new motto will be: You want what, I give what! Don't say I no sayang you! (in true Singlish style that the rest of the world can never understand)

Disclaimer: Author very sleep now! Almost comatose! The only activity that can wake me up is shopping, for clothes and shoes. But then again, author has been indulging in too much chocolates, and probably can't fit decently into decent clothes.

What I'll be doing this Valentine's Day....

I was just asking a friend what he was doing for Valentine's Day yadda yadda blah blah blah and I suddenly realised that I've never ever celebrated Valentine's Day before! Now once, not with any one of my numerous guy friends!

I've never gotten the chance to wear nice nice (preferable in pink or wed or virginal white), carry big big bunch of disgusting-smelling roses, or worse even, ugly sunflowers, and dine in a posh restaurant where I get to eat minute servings of food, filling up the rest of my empty tummy with "more warm water please!". I so poor thing right?!!

So I guess that explains why I denounce so vehemently the pink and red-coloured themed festival celebrations. I've been psychologically traumatised by all the rejection and lack of love all these years. I'm emotionally pretty well adjusted the rest of the days of the year, except for 14 February when I suddenly turned all psychotic and witch-like in my quest to destroy anything pink and red and floral in design.

Poor poor me. Nobody loves me. Everybody hates me. I'm going to eat some worms...

Now that I've found out the source of my Valentine's Day misery, do you suppose I can reverse the damage that's been done to my poor damaged spirit? Will a Valentine's Day celebrated with all the pomp and grandour that money can buy lift me out of my anti-love doldrums? If some nice kind chap, pitying my poor loveless state, decides to spend all his money in the world to buy me humongous bunches of flowers and feed me expensive exotic food with unpronounceable names and ends the night with a fireworks display aboard the Titanic, will the spell of anti-Valentine's be lifted off me, turning me all gooey mushy and and romantic?

"Haha! Fat chance!" I hear somebody snigger. In fact, I know for a fact there're more than one of you chortling away at this point! (Sharrup Sucker! And you too E! And Wee, you want to die issit?!)

You know what, I have to agree with whoever is sniggering away. The chances of turning me into a romantic is about as slim as turning a crock of shit into a pile of glittering diamonds. I'll never ever like red or pink roses, heart-shaped balloons, expensive chocolates and high-class posh restaurants.

My idea of a great date is to meet him after work, and take a nice long stroll home in the cool evening breeze, hand in hand, and occasionaly breaking into a run because I didn't want my ears pulled for making fun of his wierd hair-cut. (He cut his hair especially for the occasion you see...) We'll walk hand in hand, to the supermarket! Because all the restaurants are so crowded, and because I wanted to make a pathetic effort at being romantic, I have decided to attempt to cook dinner (TA DAH!). After much thinking, I have decided to cook, by my very ownself, instant noodles and fried eggs for dinner, to be washed down by chocolate cookies (Hey! I can bake!) and potato salad! And Ruffles Sour Cream Potato Chips!

After dinner, we'll settle down to watch a DVD, probably something more funny than romantic. And then we'll switch off all the lights, light the candles, and play hide and seek! (Loser has to do push ups!) After that very strenuous activity, which has us panting and heaving and groaning (with pain because we stubbed our toes in the dark playing hide and seek), we'll probably find ourselves hungry again, after that very pathetic and very wierd meal, and the best kind of middle-of-the-night food will be BBQ! Knowing us, we'll stuff our faces until we look like chipmunks with cotton wool stuffed in our cheeks! (But then again, some of us naturally look like cotton-wool stuffed chipmunks anyway. Chipmunks wearing spectacles!)

To work that fat off, we'll go jogging around the neighbourhood. By then, it's almost dawn, and I guess it'll be pretty romantic to see the sun as it rises, hidden behind clumps of tall buildings. Never mind if the view sucks, watching sun rises still qualify as 'romantic' activities. By then, we're probably so dead tired we'll just drag ourselves home, call the office to tell them we're sick, and then collapse into bed.

Now that's my idea of a romantic evening... Any takers? Anybody willing to make my dream come true?

Go away!!

Will the real Valentine turn in his grave if he sees what we've made him a namesake of? A day filled with chocolates and candy and flowers. Have we made a mockery of his dying?

One of those wierd questions... Geez, I really hate 14 February! And no, it's not because I'm a pathetic lonely ugly spinster with no dates that I'm whining. Nothing can be further from the truth! But to make my stand, and a certain point, I shall not go out on Valentine's Day! Instead, I shall stay home and enjoy myself with myself, while the rest of the world goes gadding about, pathetically trying to please their partners with gifts and what not.

Suckers!

Another one of those wierd questions.....

With all the violence and deaths that have resulted from a cartoon of Muhammed, I wonder how the poor cartoonist feels about it all?

In and out the cherry window....

You know the game we played when we were young silly things with pigtails or the china-doll bob with dweeb-like bangs, called "In and out the cherry window"? (Upon retrospect, it sure was a dumb game!)

Anyway, I sure feel like I'm playing that all over again, in my adult years (still dweeb-like) with MSN Messanger. MM has been playing me like a fool, flitting in and out of my life at a whim and a fancy! (MM is, I'm now convinced, Casonova personified!) Just who does he think he is?!! I won't stand for this!

Or will I?

At the end of the day, when MM condescends to welcome me back into his arms, will I go whimpering back into his embrace? Oh how shameless, how undignified! Oh what a state I am in. Oh MM please take me back into your fold again!

Mr Big?

Lucid Maxima's cousin posed the question to her, and it got me thinking....

Do I have a Mr Big in my life? Who is he?

No, I don't have a Mr Big in my life, and even if a Mr Big did exist before, I will make sure he will cease to exist.

Because it's a concept I don't believe in. I don't like the idea that there is some man who wields so much power over me, that I'll go running back to at the drop of a hat. I don't like the idea of having unfinished business in my life.

I don't want a Mr Big in my life, It's just too complicated for my simple puny brain.

March of the Penguins?

Just imagine with me...

Down at the South Pole, where Penguins and Polar Bears and Seals and other animals live.... (But we're be focussing only on Penguins this time round.)

One fine day, a humming sound broke the cold wintry silence, and out of a clear blue sky, a low-flying airplane suddenly appears.

The unusual humming sound attracted the attention of the bunch (group/shoal/school?) of Penguins that were hanging around on the ice block below. They all looked up, craning their non-existent necks and peering into the distance to see what it was that was making that noise.

They stared unwaveringly at the plane as it approached them, the small dot taking shape and becoming clearer against the sky blue background, craning their necks even more as it drew closer. As the plane flew overhead, the Penguins tilted their heads so far back they lost their balance and fell on their backs unto the icy slippery ice!

Ok, now the question is, how do the penguins get back unto their feet with the icy ground being so slippery, and with only stubby clumsy flippers to help them?

Unhappy Valentine's...

14 February is looming ominiously overhead. Gee, I really hate Valentine's Day.

I hate the thought that couples will be walking around with silly sheepish lovey-dovey expressions on their faces, while carrying bunches of exorbitantly expensive flowers, all dressed in the best, as if they're going out on their first date. It's oh so sickening!

I hate the thought of normal level-headed girls going all bonkers and bersek, and acting giggly and wierd over gifts of flowers and chocolates, or feeling depressed for the lack thereof.

Most of all, I hate the idea of being pressurised to do things on February 14, just because the world's calendar dictates that this is the day for being loving and romantic. Who are they to tell me when I should be nice and when I should buy presents for people I love and care about? (The same feeling goes for Christmas as well!) And why should I be nice just because it's Valentine's Day?!

I am now going to declare February 14 Anti-Valentine's Day! To protest against acting disgustingly stupidly romantic on February 14, I am not going to have anything to do with flowers, cards, and presents or anything even remotely related to Valentines. Maybe I should even stage a mini-protest of sorts, with placards and all.

Are there any like-minded people who will want to join my worthy cause?

What is the power I wish I possessed?

Niang has been pretty philosophical recently as well.

She just posted on her blog the question "What is the power I wished I possessed?". Being the sucker that she is, she wanted to be omniscient - having total knowledge, or knowing everything.

I'm guessing here that Ah Gee will probably want the power to turn everything green. E will want the power to make men go weak in the knees. (Oh wait! She already has that power!)

So, what super powers would I want?

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.........(thinking very long)

The power to become invisible sounds interesting... The power to turn everything into gold? How about x-ray vision? Or I've always wanted the power to turn into a mosquito and turn voyeuristic on people! Another interesting possibility is the powwer to be Wonder Woman, and wear sexy bustier bra while fighting baddies!

Oh wait! I think I finally got it! I know what I want already!

The power to change the world. (I'm doing the "cheem" thing again!) I want the power to change the world. (I shall change everything into act cute strawberry pink colour, in keeping with my new Nokia 6111!)

Maybe, there's finally a chance for world peace. (Here, I finally put to rest the fallacy that only bimbos wish for world peace!) Maybe there's a possibility that hunger, poverty, and disease will be eradicated.

Just you wait till I finally get my super powers!!

Pretty in Pink

My dream came true....

I finally got the Nokia 6111, in act cute pink, after my stoopid Nokia 6220 conked out on me....

Nice right?! Do you just think it suits me and my personality? (Hahahahah)

I shall not be "cheem"....

I have been getting comments from suckers about my latest blog entries, wondering how how I've been so "cheem" lately (Translation: "cheem" means 深奥 / deep; insightful; incomprehensible; all of the above). What can I say, the people around me just don't appreciate brilliance. Instead of heaping praise and money on me, they just make snide remarks about my being so philosophical and suspecting me to be in the throes of deep depression. Us geniuses are always being misunderstood by mere mortals. *Sniff of disdain*

It's not as if I do this pretty often. When I'm funny and flippant and rude and what not, you complain that I make too much noise. When I try to be deep and insightful and do my once-a-year contemplation, you guys complain even more! What you want! Anyway, this deep contemplative "cheem" state only happens once a year, from Christmas until the New Year. Once a year only, no more no less. (Not like Robinsons Shopping Centre, perpetually have sales. Mine is once a year, and the real stuff!)

Anyway, since I'm such a customer-oriented person, and my customes are making so much noise, fine, I'll pander to their low-class tastes! Next time round, I shall be flippant and rude abou stoopid mundane things like going to Mount Faber and eating MacDonalds ice-cream or something, or about childhood dreams come trues, or about Hello Kitty and My Melody! Then all these people will come begging me to stop!

What you people want?!

Deep question number 1....

I have come up with a serious of questions to ask myself and the people around me, since I have so much time on my hands, and am bored out of my wits. And if I don't do something about it soon, I'm soon going to become stupid, like you guys who're reading my blog! (Hahahahah.. Joke joke! Can?)

Ok! Question number 1.......

What would you do if you had a million dollars?