Friday, December 29, 2006

Happy New Year!!!

Hi all!

Thanks to all you well-wishers out there that have made my x'mas just a little much more better and meaningful. I've not been blogging because of something which I will be posting up soon. Just like to say that everything's hunky dory and pretty well-rounded in terms of highs and lows in the year 2006.

In fact, it has been such an eventful year for me, changing jobs, getting married, moving house. Oh yes, everyone keeps asking me when's the ceremony? I'd like to say that I'll probably serve my tea to both sides of my folks and that will be that. But I seem to have friends who are ready to whip out their wallets to do a generous bit of charity (i.e. me), so perhaps when I'm finally debt-free, I might actually book a restaurant for them so they can shower me with their gifts and cash-cheques. This debt-free thing, while it might occur when I'm alive, will definitely occur when I'm in the grave, so the dinner amounts to the same thing ('choi choi!!!').

recently, i have been taken for a ride on Neil Gaiman's new book 'Fragile things'. if you like freakiness and sadism, this is it. It's a collection of short stories, one of which I'm totally disturbed, which is why it makes for such a good read. For him, it might be best to leave reason and logic on the doorstep before entering, he is never sensible and always fantastical.

When I have time, I'll share his shorter stories here.

Today, topic is about nightmares. Someone once told me that dreams and nightmares stops where the knowledge ends. Eg, if you have never been kissed, then you may dream of it, but you'll not feel the lips. it'll be like empty air.

hmm....actually to digress abit--- if this person is correct, how come when I dreamt this porno-sci-fi dream where I got raped hibitually by my robotic hubby, I can actually feel his small sharp tentacle jabbing into me? The feeling was so profound and utterly indescribable that I woke up startled by the wierdness. Almost immediately I slap my head for stupidity and tried my best to go back to sleep, hoping to dream out the entire episode so I can experience the rendering without going through the actual event.

That was back in 1998.

And seriously, you ain't old till you start recalling the exact year instead of saying, 'last time,....'

More about that dream next time.

For this nightmare, I had it in 1997. My family had moved to a mansionette to make more room for my lil' brother. I had a big bedroom all to myself. It must have been during the time when my dad was retrenched and trying his hardest to get another job during the economic downturn. The family was running fairly well on savings and my mum was pulling double-loads giving tuition and keeping us fed. We kids all worried, nevertheless.

I can never forget that night out of the many nights of slumber and stress. It was dead quiet in my room because I had the windows closed because it was raining. Only the whirring fan broke the abject silence and ear-ringing. It was meant to be a cosy night ensconced in my bed, which was placed against the wall. I have the habit of sleeping with my back right against a solid object, a remnant learnt from another nightmare.

The square room was cast in grey and blue shadows-- a still-frame if not for the fan turning silently in one quiet corner.

So that was when I woke up. Blearily opened 1 eye and about to burrow into the blankets before I noticed my big bro. He was in the middle of my room.

A long straight figure with his crumpled head slumped. Suspended, he swung to and to from my ceiling light. Somehow he had shifted my study chair from the study table to the middle of the room and used it to hang himself from the ceiling.

What made the whole situation more horrifying was that although his body amd limbs was deathly still, he swung violently to and fro.

'Gor...' I whimpered, hoping to squeeze against the wall harder but paralysed.

In response, the body swung harder. I knew then that it wanted to snap the rope to get to me....

My heart thudded so strongly I woke up hyperventilating. For the longest time, I couldn't fall asleep because I was too scared to close my eyes. I was sure that not only will I have the same dream again, it will be a continuation of it, this time, the rope will snap and I wouldn't be able to open my eyes.

If only I could also peel my eyes off my study chair, which was exactly where my nightmare left it.

In the middle of the room and beneath the ceiling lights.



Happy New Year!

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Cheeky lil' Bro....

Hi all!

A prelude to this christmas...

Met my brother a couple of days ago for dinner. Halfway thruough the char kway teow, i noticed he was staring at me very very intently...

AKK: *preening* what what? Chio Bu never see before issit? Must stare until eye drop out.

Bro: Eh, sorli hor, u chio, I strike toto hor. Ay ay, ask you ah...very personal question hor....don't scold me.

And a million different personal questions flitted through my mind....hmm... sex? (always top the list) hubby? gf-bf problems? and so on.

AKK: oh why leh? got something so important must ask permission to say one ah?

Bro: *still staring at AKK* Yah, this question confirm.

AKK: *pause to think* OK lah, now I must know the question liao... Say say...

Bro: Is it just me or are your cheeks sagging?

AKK: ...........

Bro: What what?!!! You say can ask one what!!

Bro: *frying under AKK's glare* OKOK, actually I don't think so lah...not sagging lah...

AKK's heartbeat and blood pressure start to slow down....

Bro: *take cue from AKK* Ya, your cheeks not saggy...... they are probably just fat...



Sunday, December 03, 2006

Revealing myself finally....

Edited with most spelling mistakes taken out. Ya ya, was rushing the entry and since I got fat, so have my fingers.....1 type, 2 keys....

Hi all!

I know I have been so utterly remiss in posting my entries. Nothing interesting actually. In fact, because lappy has been suffering a bit and feeling under the weather, I have stopped trying to bang on him recently (hur hur...) and instead tried to write my entries in the office PC. apparently I have been caught and given a big stern warning, especially after I typed 'porn' and 'gahmen' and 'blog'. My boss has given me some time-out and suspended my MSN.

In any case, I'm trying out the flickr thingy to see if it works as good as it sounds.

So yes! I'm gonna post up pics! And what pics are these, i hear you say? from my not-so-recent HK trip. i saw lots of stuff but I only got one thing to share... Just One.

Guess who I met???

This man....

WWAAAHHHH!!!!!!! I really met him, I really really met him!!! And he is soooo gorgeous, I had to take a pic with him!!! In fact, I lined up to get his pic, ok? The bloody Jap couple in front of me had so many tries!!!

And so because seeing him is such a worthy experience, I , ANG KU KUEH, shall throw away thine Mantle of Elusivenss and Mystery!

I, AKK, shall cast the Towel of Obscurity and Unveil the Silk from the Unseeing Eye.

I, AKK, shall finally reveal Myself in this Blog! YES!!!! In this blog! So that you may all share the Utter joy with me, of having Andy Lau, Plastered, yes!!! Plastered against My Body!!! *swoon*

Behold!!!! Throw the cobwebs from your eyes!!!

*Drum Roll.....*




Friday, December 01, 2006

Hi all!

The following is a mirror of Jaywalk's site. The standard chartered marathon is taking place on the 3rd of Dec, 2006, which is this SUNDAY!! Of cos, this time, the RFF won't be getting funds for their running. Instead, they are running to thank those who have helped, big or small.

But wait! this doesn't mean that once RFF isn't getting any funds this year, we can take a breather and keep away the money/sweat....In fact, I was slightly upset because I had already saved a bit for this purpose.

If you are doing it as I have done, then why not shuttle to others who need the help? I'll be splitting to MILK and ST Pocket Money Fund.

While the year is ending, let me wish you all a fantastic Christmas December ahead and while you are mulling over what to get for your family and friends, remember there are kids out there worried over more difficult things.

Another idea: How about doing a donation in your loved ones' name? My Uncle recently donated $5 under my name for the Cancer Foundation, which is quite touching. If the operator had not called me to confirm my IC no., I would not have known about it. So you go, Uncle V! i promise not to call you uncle ever again after this. :)

Without further ado, here's the mirror. :)

Dear All,

This week, we have featured folks who shared their thought on how we can all contribute to plug small gaps in our welfare system. I hope it has triggered some thoughts on how you can make a difference to someone's life. It need not be a $10million donation to a foundation. It just needs to be an act from the heart.

Maybe you can buy a cup of coffee for the cleaning Ah Soh in your company who is struggling to make ends meet.

The principle stays the same. If you don't do anything about it, there can be no change. As Ghandi said, "Be the change you want to see in this world."

I would like you to leave a comment on how you will be a change agent in your small way.

My parting words...

"The smallest good deed is better than the grandest intention"

- Adrian


Tuesday, November 28, 2006

The Sad Ping Pong Queen

hi all!

My circle of colleagues typically end the week of work by booking the office table-tennis er...table to have some ping-pong session. Being naturally bad at anything resembling sports, I was the one they kept pushing to 'play more play more!'. This is really what I call a great crowd, mindful of newcomers and made sure they feel welcome. That, or they just wanna watch me run all over the place trying to catch their whirling pink lightnings.

It was here that I got to experience most of my colleagues’ fantastic, even operatic moves on the ping pong table. Watching them play, you can almost imagine the Chinese fan whipping out and all the ‘fei-piaos’ at the ready…..

During another one of colleague G’s moves that prompt me to hallucinate flowing scarves ala Zhang Zhiyi in House of Daggers and had me running all corners of the rooms, spraining my back to pick up the balls, I had to ask..

‘Wah, G. Who teach you your ping pong skills? So fast….’

‘Heh. I learn from the best! My ex-bf taught me one.’

‘He must have been very good at it.’ *pant pant* Another hurtling ball missed me by inches.

‘Yup, he is. But I improve very fast becos of the way he teaches me.’

‘Like how? Video-taping and showing you your mistakes?’ I was thinking about how a swim-coach normally deals with his trainees.

‘Nope, even simpler.’ And looking at me in the eye without any inflection at all, she replied, ‘He used me as a target.’

At my face of incredulity, she elaborated, ‘He said the best way to force me to learn is to aim all his ping pong balls at me hard, so I’ll be extremely compelled to catch them before they hit me.’

I wondered if by her frankness, she was testing or judging me on the type of response to give. So I went for another question.

‘Did it hurt?’

A pause. ‘But of course....’

And I wondered if her answer had a deeper meaning than it was intended.

We let the pink ball move back and forth across the table a while longer in silence.

Then I said, ‘I’m glad he’s your ex, then.’

We looked each other fully in the eye again before hers slid away. I had been accessed and found wanting. She probably got a lot of similar responses like these which she did not agree with.

‘At least he stayed with me for 7 yrs. I wondered how he could have done that, you know.’ Defensive stance.

‘And why not?’ Perhaps she had been a difficult GF?

‘Well, I used to look like this.’ She took out her ID pass and showed me her photo.

In there was a picture taken only 2 yrs ago when she first joined up.

It showed a gal who has, frankly, a very rotund face. It was round like a moon, with cheeks you can squeeze and jiggle.

What a complete change to her present state. She now looks healthily built and toned.

Now, I became more puzzled, and something close to anger surfaced. We stopped the game (after I lost all 3 rounds) and I pressed, ‘What did that have to do with him staying by your side for 7 years?’

‘Don’t you think there’s something admirable about him wanting to be with such an obese gal for 7 long years?’

There was an inner light in her eyes when she said it, obviously for the ex-bf who was courageous, brave and invincible for daring to go against convention to hang out with a plump gal for so long. She had forgotten the blue-blacks she had taken from his training. I bet she must have been thinking he was very noble for even taking time out to train her in his favourite sport.

I felt sorry for her. Right now, I would say that she looked great. She isn’t exactly thin, but hey, she’s got curves rather than angles where curves ought to be. She dresses well and walks well and does her job with great pride. She’s very well-educated too. In fact, her academic qualifications are much higher than his, which prompt me to wonder if he didn’t have a streak of malevolence because of this.

But that’s the thing. I always thought that education can increase a person’s self-worth. If you know more facts about the world, feel good that you can do many things, have pride in your responsibilities and abilities to carry them out, shouldn’t that make you feel less indispensable in Life than others who are less educated and feel less in control?

But for G, no matter how well she works or looks, she’ll always see a worthless fat person in the mirror that she despises. I contend that her self-worth wasn’t there because she did not love herself very much. And funnily, that got me really pissed.

I was angry because the world seem made for the bold and the beautiful. Skinny twigs with perfect hair and teeth. Never mind they weren’t very useful in anything else but looking pretty. They earned the equivalent of my annual salary a day just by walking, a skill we all learnt when we were 3 yrs old. We fawn on them, we want to be like them, we want to live their lives and just for an instant, G and all who are like her, wanted to experience that kind of fixated attention that men gave to them.

And people like G, smart, funny, kind and plays a mean game of ping-pong, gets sidelined into thinking she should be grateful for any kind of attention bestowed on her. I later found out that she has been that type of gf found only in romantic MTVs, where the gal does stuff like make soup, cakes, cookies and wrap them up nicely to give her man. She routinely treats him to candle-lit dinners and gives him wake-up calls. That fucker should be grateful that someone would even give him the time of day, much less someone like her.

Sad to say, her current squeeze also seemed destined to be shaped from the same same cookie-cutter. He has tried to dump her once already, citing that his diploma-holding personality makes him feel inferior to her honours background. Of cos, she begged him to come back, which he did. When I heard about it, I had a feeling it’ll end up the same way again.

When you don’t love yourself, how can anyone love you? Your whole being relies on self-love to project a certain image to the world. If the world sees you as inferior as you see yourself, you’ll agree with it. But the world got its first impression of you from you. It’s all a vicious cycle.

OK, I’m rambling, I know. I’m still mad also. After I argued with her, she started apologizing profusely. I wanted her to stand up for herself and yet, I don’t want her to stand up for herself on views like these.

I don’t know what I want. She confuses me.

Because when I look in the mirror, sometimes another person stares back at me.



Friday, November 24, 2006

Getup, Get out and Move on!

Hi all!

Long time no write! today, blogging is a like a breath of fresh air from recent events, which I am happy to say, are tuning down and slowing up. Of cos, coming back out of it requires some time, so as of today, still nothing funny to write except for one small issue.

which will be placed at the bottom.

force you to read what i saying next....ahem...

To my happiness, I have found some ways to combat feelings of lowness. this may not apply to you guys, but it works for me.

So I've decided to write it here, so I don't forget. If you find this helpful, well, I'd like a cup of Kopi please.

Recently, have been told by a fren that some bloggers are consistently depressed about Life and he wonders why. On the basis of research, I also kapohed and had a look into one of which he described.

5 mins into reading, I had the gist of X's life. She's young, she loves good food and pubbing, she's living with her parents. She posts many pics of herself in alluring poses, low necklines and half-exposed breasts. She takes pics in which she thinks are reflective /thinking poses....

Do you know inside every fat nice person is a skinny mean person thinking bad thoughts that get censured by said fat nice person before it's being let out?

Just for looking at those pics, Mini-me didn't just think bad thoughts, she almost knocked my teeth out to get them said.

X's depression is that, in addition to being broke all the time, she is also unemployed. There's a whinging quality about her that seems to impress others that she is a victim of an affluent society, denied her dream of becoming rich by doing nothing and living off frens, sees her life as a serial drama steeped with fairy tale, waiting for someone to see beyond her brittleness into her soft warm insides.

And sweep her off her feet, preferably with cash.

OK. So I dun like X and her ideas. X is equivalent to Life's Styrofoam board.

Snaps easily, drifts with the currents, filled with air.

Compared to a lot of other fellow hardworking citizens trying to make ends meet, her lazy griping persona is hard to stomach. She's unemployed by choice and gets by doing small part-time stints. By her lifestyle, I guess she spents every penny she earns. She certainly visits more restaurants, KTV, pubs in a week than I go a month.

I remembered I was resigned by the GST hike, afterall, the gov't already warned us that the hikes are going to kick in within 3-5 yrs. I also understood, in terms of economy, the hikes are to tax material spending to spread the money back to the needy. While I'm skeptical this works, other ways would too generalised.

So while I'm silently whining a bit that I've got to curb my spending, reading X complaining bitterly about GST also, about the Govt overlooking her welfare, made me slightly ashamed to be anyway associated with her and her own spendthrift, fala-dee-dee lifestyle.

haiz....I really don't like her views....

but ENUFF! A few things to curb depression!

1) Only ever tell it to 1 or 2 trusted friends. That's enuff frens to keep update because really, the less I talk about it, the less I wallow in it. and also, not a lot of ppl want to hear about my problems, so why ruin their mood?

2) Silence is inifitely golden. I get ppl coming to tell me about their problems. After hearing them, thank goodness I kept my mouth shut.

3) Tell myself it's going to get better and this is only a phase. Of cos, should make all the necessary decisions to bring yourself out of the misery. Sorry lah, no one can really help you if you don't help yourself first.

4) Always see the funny side of things. In fact, I managed to give my office colleagues a tiny magic show. I levitated off the ground---yah yah, can be done, next time show you, heheheh. And secondly, amid all their protest that I had a big fat butt, I demonstrated otherwise.

I held 2 pencils using my bottom-butt-cheek.

One beneath each cheek. Yeah.

It's a sight you don't see everyday.

And I left the office feeling remarkably happy that I left a party of 15 frens rolling over their seats in stomach cramps.

That's all. Keep happy, all!



Monday, November 20, 2006

being depressed

hi all...

Have been depressed these few days lah... lots of stuff to worry about, ie work, life, love, time....

so nothing funny happening at all, so might as well don't churn out depressing entries....

No worries though, things will only get better, as always. And perhaps i now having PMS, that might account for a lot of mislaid emotions.

Till then, guys!

Hanging in there,


Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Will you help?

Hi all!

If there's anything you would find out about me when it comes to charity, is that I champion Blood Donation above other forms. In fact, I think I have talked about it on a few occassions. Below the surface of that post, is a need to urge people to understand that charities, all well and good, can't always be about MONEY, SWEAT and extra hours of community service.

Some forms of charity require blood and marrow. A person can be the wealthiest man alive and thinks he requires no help and is not needy, but once struck by illness that only someone else can help him with, no amount of money can take away his mortality if there is no one to offer him a part of themselves.

What I am saying is: you may have built a rock-solid future stockpiled in cash, property, education. You think you'll not ever be needy nor be at the mercy of goodwill.

If you think like this, then you'd better be in the pink of health. We are all human and while our lifestyles make us think that there are multitudes of differences between us all, we are all one species. If a giant should look at us, we will look no different to him as we would view a nest of ants. We are all the same.

OK, perhaps I'm sounding slightly exasperated. Money I make all the time as long as I work. Ask friends for donation and all hands on the wallet to whip out a note. I am grateful for that. But things like Blood and Bone marrow? Everyone runs the other way. I respect your choice. I understand how the sight of needles and blood makes some ppl quake, this is actually the best reason of all. I understand that alot take diet pills so perhaps their blood isn't fit for transfusion. I even understand that why most would forgo bloodletting because they'd like to be below 45KG and scarless. Vanity deafeats us all.

So I'm plugging another drive again, this time for bone marrow donation. A friend of a friend has been dealt a swift blow. No matter if we act, look, feel 100% hale and healthy. There is sometimes no explanation why a normal person intent on living Life to the fullest can be diagnosed with a major illness. Same way a bunch of ants wonder why another ant, seemingly hardworking and beneficial to a colony, can be squashed by a person's idle fingers.

Do you want to take the necessary steps only when a close friend, relative, sibling get randomly picked for thumb-squashing? Or do you want to help now, in any you could, either by plugging Jaywalk or by telling others, or by getting yourself screened?

Because, seriously, that thumb might decide on you one day. Just because.

And then, you'll want to know that there are people out there, who have never seen you or talk to you, give you something of themselves so you can go back living your own Life to the fullest.

Forgive me for my agitation. Perhaps I am scientific by nature and hardly sentimental. The thought of a whole race of Man who have no idea that we are all like ants, that we all succumb to random bad luck, that we are not and never will be totally in control, squeezes my heart more than this lady's plight.

You see, I'm scared shitless. I donate blood, signed myself body for organ donation, and got screened at a previous marrow drive already. If one day, I or my loved ones should be thumbed down, I'd like to see my charity reciprocated. I would hate to know that I have done all these, only to end up dying or watching someone else die, just because others aren't doing what they should.

So you see? If you do it for others, you are doing it also for yourself. A prick of a needle in this bone marrow drive- what's it to you? Like an ant bite.

An Ant bite as a start to save a potential person's Life. How many people can say that?

I'll never know, but I've probably saved someone's life with my blood. And definitely narrowed the search for a marrow donor.
How about you?



Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Wah....A Singaporean 'Elite' speaks out!

Hi all!

I've just recovered from work trauma during today's Hari Raya Holiday when I came to read on the article in the Strait Times about this AMK's MP daughter making a name of herself in bloggerdom. This Wee Shu Min gal, aiyo...I tell you, if you never read, must take time to read's a case of

buying a pc: $2K
writing a blog entry: 30 minutes
writing with your full name in your entry, dragging your dad's name through mud, demarcated a country into the elite and stoopid and create a news furore at the same time: priceless

OK in order to be fair, here's the one article that started it all. This is by Derek Wee:


By Derek Wee
Oct 12, 2006

When I read the Straits Times article (dated 24 Sep) on PM Lee calling the young to be committed and make a difference to Singapore, I have so much thought about the issue.

I am 35 years old, graduated from University and gainfully employed in a multinational company. But I cannot help but feel insecure over the future of Singapore. Lets face it, it’s not uncommon to hear, “when you are above 40, you are over the hill”.

The government has been stressing on re-training, skills upgrading and re-adapt. The fact is, no matter how well qualified or adaptable one is, once you hit the magical 40, employers will say, “you are simply too old”.

We have been focusing our resources and problem solving on low unskilled labour. But in reality, our managerial positions and skilled labour force are actually fast losing its competitiveness.

I travel around the region frequently for the past 10 years. It didn’t take me long to realise how far our neighbours have come over the past decade.

They have quality skilled workers, and are less expensive. When I work with them, their analytical skills are equally good, if not better than us.

It’s not new anymore. Taxi drivers are fast becoming “too early to retire, too old to work” segment of the society. I like to talk to taxi drivers whenever I am heading for the airport.

There was this driver. Eloquent and well read. He was an export manager for 12 years with an MNC. Retrenched at 40 years old. He had been searching for a job since his retrenchment.

Although he was willing to lower his pay expectations, employers were not willing to lower their prejudice. He was deemed too old. I wouldn’t be surprised if we have another No. 1; having the most highly educated taxi drivers in the world.

On PM Lee calling the young to be committed and make a difference. Look around us. How dedicated can we be to Singapore when we can visualise what’s in store for us after we turned 40? Then again, how committed are employers to us? But we can’t blame them. They have bottom lines & shareholders’ gain to answer to.

Onus is really on the government to revamp the society. A society that is not a pressure cooker. A society that does not mirror so perfectly, what survival of the fittest is.

But a society, where it’s people can be committed, do their best and not having to fear whether they will still wake up employed tomorrow. Sadly, Singapore does not offer such luxuries and security anymore.

On the issue of babies. The government encourages us to pro-create. The next generation is essential in sustaining our competitive edge. Then again, the current market condition is such that our future has become uncertain. There is no more joy in having babies anymore; they have become more of a liability. It’s really a chicken and egg issue.

Many of my peers, bright and well educated have packed up and left. It’s what MM Goh called “quitters”. It’s sad but true, Singapore no longer is a place where one can hope to work hard their lives and retire graciously. It’s really the push factor.

A future is something we sweat it out, build and call our own. Unfortunately, people like me, mid 30’s going on 40’s, staying put by choice or otherwise, we can’t help but feel what lies ahead is really a gamble.

To PM Lee and the Ministers, we are on a different platform. Until you truly understand our insecurity, the future of Singapore to me remains a question mark.


So ok hor? Not too heavy, I hope? Now here's the reply from the zarbor:


mom’s friend sent her some blog post by some bleeding stupid 40-year old singaporean called derek wee (WHY do all the idiots have my surname why?!) whining about how singapore is such an insecure place, how old ppl (ie, 40 and above) fear for their jobs, how the pool of foreign “talent” (dismissively chucked between inverted commas) is really a tsunami that will consume us all (no actually he didn’t say that, he probably said Fouren Talern Bery Bad.), how the reason why no one wants kids is that they’re a liability in this world of fragile ricebowls, how the government really needs to save us from inevitable doom but they aren’t because they are stick-shoved-up-ass elites who have no idea how the world works, yadayadayadayada.

i am inclined - too much, perhaps - to dismiss such people as crackpots. stupid crackpots. the sadder class. too often singaporeans - both the neighborhood poor and the red-taloned socialites - kid themselves into believing that our society, like most others, is compartmentalized by breeding. ridiculous. we are a tyranny of the capable and the clever, and the only other class is the complement.

sad derek attracted more than 50 comments praising him for his poignant views, joining him in a chorus of complaints that climax at the accusation of lack of press freedom because his all-too-true views had been rejected by the straits times forum. while i tend to gripe about how we only have one functioning newspaper too, i think the main reason for its lack of publication was that his incensed diatribe was written in pathetic little scraps that passed off as sentences, with poor spelling and no grammar.

derek, derek, derek darling, how can you expect to have an iron ricebowl or a solid future if you cannot spell?

if you’re not good enough, life will kick you in the balls. that’s just how things go. there’s no point in lambasting the government for making our society one that is, i quote, “far too survival of fittest”. it’s the same everywhere. yes discrimination exists, and it is sad, but most of the time if people would prefer hiring other people over you, it’s because they’re better. it’s so sad when people like old derek lament the kind of world that singapore will be if we make it so uncertain. go be friggin communist, if uncertainty of success offends you so much - you will certainly be poor and miserable. unless you are an arm-twisting commie bully, which, given your whiny middle-class undereducated penchant, i doubt.

then again, it’s easy for me to say. my future isn’t certain but i guess right now it’s a lot brighter than most people’s. derek will read this and brand me as an 18-year old elite, one of the sinners who will inherit the country and run his stock to the gutter. go ahead. the world is about winners and losers. it’s only sad when people who could be winners are marginalised and oppressed. is dear derek starving? has dear derek been denied an education? has dear derek been forced into child prostitution? has dear derek had his clan massacred by the government?

i should think not. dear derek is one of many wretched, undermotivated, overassuming leeches in our country, and in this world. one of those who would prefer to be unemployed and wax lyrical about how his myriad talents are being abandoned for the foreigner’s, instead of earning a decent, stable living as a sales assistant. it’s not even about being a road sweeper. these ****bags don’t want anything without “manager” and a name card.

please, get out of my elite uncaring face.
posted at 12:08 PM

And here was her public apology on one of the blogs that were discussing her entry :
i apologise if i have distressed you with my tendency to rant. while i will not dispute some of the points you make in response to what i have written, i would like to bring to your attention the fact that the post in question was never meant to be a cogent response to the specific points raised in derek wee’s article. it is, quite obviously, a rant in the heat of the moment. in addition, i don’t believe that my blog has the wide readership of derek wee’s, or even your own, and my intention was more to vent my own frustrations than public denouncement.

i’d also like to clarify my use of the word “elite”. while i understand how misinterpretation may have arose, i intended to use it in irony, as a label that people assume i enjoy, and not one that i take particular pleasure in.

finally, i admit that i was harsher than i should have been, although the the crux of my belief in self-improvement and self-determination has not changed. once again, i apologise if my words have unintentionally offended you - i was under the rather naive impression that nobody reads my blog


Hey, the purpose of this entry today is not to add oil to the frying pan liao, I think she's doing a good job of it so far trying to set herself on fire.

I just want to say that her dad? that AMK MP? Yup, he also 'elite' hor, Raffles all the way, then Stanford and yadda.

Guess where she got all her teachings, inspiration, social conscience from? Yup, no need to be aghast at the daugther when its the Dad and the Family who brought her up. This is called mei you jia jiao. Confirm its because Papa like that, daughter also like that.

Some one's paying the price for his actions and it's certainly not Derek Wee.

And to all those scholarship hopefuls out there, perhaps you should be glad you did not get in, because- can you imagine the type of people you might meet? and the type of personality erosion you might suffer?

Buddha Forbid.

Haiz.....I fear for Singapore.



Tuesday, October 17, 2006

How AKK's brain is functioning....

work work work work work work work work work work sex work work work work work work work work work sex work work work work work work work work work work eat work work work work work work sleep work work work work work work work work work work work work work workwe loormw work wowek work work work workw orke sleep slerrp slepep slurr .....

and that's how everything breaks down.....



Monday, October 09, 2006

A trip to HSA

Hi all!

Man, have I been fricking busy! I thank you all for your fine comments in the previous and previous previous blog. Although I often wondered how come nobody actually tried to ask more deeply into the problem of me being attracted to some one older…..

Oh hell, never mind, I’ll talk about it now…

Yes! I admit! I got crush! In fact, I’d be the first person to say that although you may be attached/married/arranged by grandparents to enter a stranger’s life and become part of his family, we all, yes, we all! Still have eyes that can see, ears that can hear! OK?! I admit! Hands up!

Do not take out thy sight nor block thy ears nor cover thy skin just because you are ‘taken’. This is a free world, there is no ownership, love should never be described nor seen as such. Love is not slavery nor self- prohibition, but agreeing that when all is said and done, there is always somewhere else you want to belong with, a place, a person; that you’d rather be with, even after seeing-eyes and hearing-ears.

To move with the times, Love is no longer the same definition as when our parents came together. And was never the definition then when our grandparents came together.

So back to the crush, as all crushes go, this one went by pretty fast. First he looked like delectable Harrison Ford to me (HF being my all-time favourite lao-ah-pek crush). Now, he now looks just like a Ford, ie. efficient and generally trusty, but not much fanfare. So after this period of moral enquiry, that leaves only the ‘taking second glances at the more distinguished profs’, ‘imaging Daniel Wu strapped and naked on the bed’ and ‘enjoying another older colleagues lilting Scottish brogue’ kinda-fantasies left to be savoured and morally dissected.

Ah! To be human and conscious about your thoughts is the woe of Man.

But I digress! Today, I shall be talking about the myth of blood donation.

I have been donating blood on and off since a nondescript email was spammed to me in the 90s, asking for donors to save the life of a Timothy Chan Ho somebody. A little leukemia-stricken boy. Bolstered that finally an email is asking specifically for my own blood type, I went to HSA and asked to donate to him.

Only to be told that while HSA is extremely grateful for the blood I shall donate, there are many other kids, not just him, who’ll require immediate attention and that my blood shall be given in order of priority. Because for every child who’s had publicity and help through internet and email-forwarding, there are a lot of others who don’t.

Remember that. Everything that you know is always the tip of an iceberg. But every drop of blood that comes out from my arms can perhaps mean a few more minutes to live. To some people, these minutes mean the difference between closure and a lifetime of hanging ends, words unsaid and unheard.

Always remember that there is no action too small that will help or harm a person.

Ah! But off with these heavy words! I was talking about the myth of blood donation. I had heard it many many times, coming from first-timers, old-timers and no-timers (ie, never try before). In fact, most culprits are plump auntie first-timers nervously fretting on the donation couch, seriously regretting their burst of charity after seeing the nurse rip open the needle syringe package.

‘Mee-si, mee-si,’ they quavered. ‘I heard blood donation makes you fat. Is it true?’

To which the nurse will sweep her arm across the room and ask, ‘Auntie, you got see any fat ppl or not?’

Which always makes my wildly happy because I was included in the radar of ‘got any fat ppl or not’ while she swung her antennae fingers and forgets to stop where I am.

So you see, there is a more sinister reason for me wanting to donate blood. Other than the compulsory feeling of the brotherhood bond with Mankind that I am giving Life to the needful, is the feeling that on the contrary to auntie’s last-minute back-out line, I actually feel that I lost weight after donating.

And because of the digital scale in the doctor’s room during checkup.

Yup. You heard right.

Since blood donation is a commitment of every 3 months, every 3 months, I’d be asked by the doc to step onto the scale to weigh myself. And that particular scale, I have given it the honour of being the most accurate scale around in my Life. Let’s face it, normal bathroom scales are always a + or – of 2kg and even when I’m sick, my GP never asks me to measure my weight.

Ever since I started donating blood, my weight has been steadily declining from a cushiony 58 kg to plateau at my current 47kg. Of cos, I had been exercising over the years but certain things you just tend to equate one with the other. That said, it was a plateau I'm delibrately keeping since you aren't allowed to donate if you are 45kg and below.

Since I’ve become the borderline of ‘can or cannot donate blood because you have too little mass’, that scale is a constant fixture that I’d see every 3 months. And like an old friend whose name I’d forgotten, the doc would introduce us again. I’d catch up with it by climbing on top and update it the happenings (food intake and lack of exercise) in the past 3 months. It almost always tells me I’m keeping my weight at constant and that’s usually around 47kg. To which I’d proudly announce to the doc, who’ll tick my name in the form and proclaim me fit for blood donation.

So recently, the urge to do good and meet my old friend came back round again. A happy occasion, I walked in HSA feeling like a veteran, filling the form nonchalantly because I knew every single question.

Then when the doctor called my name, I did not hesitate once. I was excited that my old friend shall soon proclaim me a healthy 47kg and allow me to drip enough blood to fill a Yakult bottle.

The doc and I did the normal-- blood pressure, questioning of general health. Finally the doctor stopped scribbling and turned the page over to fill in my weight. I waited for the doctor to introduce me to that shy contraption at the side of the room.

He looked up with a bright smile.

‘OK! We’re done! Please proceed on to the glass door on the left.’

‘But….but….what about my weight?’ I glanced at the beckoning scale.

‘Well, what about it?’

‘Don’t you need to know my real weight?’ I was frankly aghast at his rudeness and lack of social cue.

‘Oh, that!’ laughed the doctor. ‘No worries! You definitely can donate blood.’

‘But you still need to fill up my weight!’ Last ditch attempt and frankly shaken out of routine, I pointed out the blank on the form.

‘Oh, that’s OK. You look like…hmmm…....' a pause. 'You look like you weigh 55kg.’

Missing my look of open-mouth horror, he neatly flourished the number ‘55’ onto the blank. Just like that.

So while invisible shards of glass pierced mercilessly through me, he callously added, ‘and that’s 10kg pass the official weight limit. So you’re safe to donate. I can TELL.’

AAARRGGHHHHH!!!! AARRGgghhhhh!!!!!!! aaaRRgghhhh!!!!!!!!

While I was silently agonising, he flipped my past records and quipped, 'hmmm....I can see your weight's now back to your first few donations, what happened?'

'I got married.' I mumbled in shock, hands moving over my suddenly slack thighs...

'Congratualations then, so both myths are true!'

'What myths?' Unconciously, I rolled out my suddenly obvious expanding love handles with my hands.

'That blood donation and marriage can make you fat, of cos. what else?'

.......Choujidan…..Blood donation will never be the same again……….



Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Run For Funds!!!

Hi all!

Another year, another marathon and another bunch of kids get given a hand to help them along. Welcome to the RunForFunds Project where every fund gets given to the children and none get choked in red tape, admin or corruption. Jaywalk has asked to help out on awareness, but I think its neccesary anyway since it's only a good thing to announce good intentions and they actually do not entertain anonymous donations.

So interested parties can click on the link to Jaywalk's post to find out what its all about. Those who periodically run marathons *hint hint to SibehSian*, can actually do it for a good cause. How about that for both hobby and karma?

that's all!


Sunday, September 17, 2006

The Chronicles of C, Vol. II -- Liking older men…

Warning: a rambling post…

Ok ok, I know most of u out there are probably aghast at the title already. Most usually means the younger bunch whose version of right and wrong is still a black/white painting, the morally-upright who paints in black and white and the religious who tries.

I’m here to tell you about my black/white. When I was younger, I was all of the above. It accounted for a lot of things that happened or didn’t happen to me. I saw my world in rights and wrongs and never thought that sometimes grey is a better shade. That means most of the time, I’m almost always a moral prick who, while accepting of others their own pursuits in life, is always tramping on my own adventurous streak.

As I grew older, I often got into fights with my parents, trying to plonk my Views on them. I’d get angry from reading the newspaper about Batam chicks and their S’pore husbands, ugly divorces and murders of passion, ie hubby kills wife because of infidelity. I started viewing from a high moral standing ground while my parents tries to explain away that sometimes, just because this aunty cheated on her hubby, it’s not because she is loose, it’s because…

And then I’d stop listening. Because listening to another side of the story, the aunt’s, would incur my sympathy and understanding. I didn’t want to be understanding, understanding will tip me off my pedestal. Yea, I really was such a prick.

Given a choice between experimenting some different but choosing a stable hard cold place, I’d take the latter.

If I wasn't so myopic, I would have gotten laid when I was 16, clubbing before 18 and probably tried ecstasy during then. Would have left S'pore for an overseas education, pursue the arts rather than science. Writing plays and acting for a living. Taken dance classes and compete.

I could have been such a different person if I wasn't so afraid of being brave.

Which is why I said I was boring. I didn’t really live my life the way I wanted it. I always chose stability and necessary evil over anything else. I had frens tell me they sian-half when I told them some of my near misses. Very hurtful, frens, and all too late to change the storyline. Because of these misses, I read and derive sensationalism and dissociation by reading instead.

I wished I had taken those steps though, just to make my life go out of line, just to plunge it into uncertainty, just to experience the emotional turmoil that might follow.

Why not? There’s only one life to live. People say to learn from other’s mistakes. Perhaps in work, that’s true. But Life? How do you truly learn other’s mistakes when you aren’t living theirs? Everyone has a different approach to problem-solving, everyone has a different set of solutions and choice with each same action.

So why am I saying all these? From my ‘hunky-dory’ voice blog to an abrupt question that I might have chosen my Life choices somewhat regretfully?

Because when you live Life through learning the mistakes of others, you are living life like a watered down teh-ping. Tasteless and dull. No life experiences to concentrate the tea and lots of one-side (meaning my own side) versions of the stories/mistakes melting like ice.

I’m not advocating young gals out there to take all that life is giving, the good, the bad, the ugly. I’m just saying that life isn’t all black nor white, so listen to both sides and decide the shade of grey it should be. Make informed choices and provisions for any losses that may occur.

And accept your frens for their own choices. Only leave them when they are too extreme and are influencing you the wrong way, like drugs, wrist-cutting, paid sex, destroying your relationship with your family etc etc. you know what I mean.

Some things are just black, and that includes people.

Why the title? Because it’s true. I have found in me the capacity to be attracted, even in holy matrimony, to another person way older. And I know exactly why.

Because I like his abandonment and his joy and lack of reserve. Ironically, I like his youthful outlook in Life in one so advanced in years when I cannot like the same attitude in someone younger.

I read in a book that infidelity is being unfaithful in your thoughts. Having thoughts you don’t share with your loved one but willingly tell another.

Oops! I am confused. So was I being infidel when I was…

1) Admiring my older colleague’s chest?
2) Fantasizing about having Daniel Wu tied and strapped naked to my bed?
3) Taking second glances at some of the more distinguished-looking Profs?
4) Listening in delight at the lilting melodic Scottish burr of another older colleague?

And deciding I should tell everyone here but my own adorable A?

Huh. Tough.

And then I have read that being attracted to another person even when married is a very common occurrence. Apparently I am among the millions and am truly the norm, the bulge in the middle of their demograph. I can admire men, their bods, their looks, in the privacy of my own thoughts.

And then it says, unfaithfulness is a matter of action. As long as you don’t act on it, you are not.

How grateful I was to read about it! I did not marry the wrong man! I am not unfaithful!

What I meant to say is, really, is that I can see why C likes that guy. She and I have come a long way and in terms of being nice and decent, we could have been nuns. At the very least, I was sex-deprived and I knew it and took pains to stopper it. She, on the other hand, was pure as snow, nary a bad, red-hot thought.

And on the question of being unfaithful, of being the 3rd party, of being in society’s assumption of black, is the question of how much of the other person’s story you want to hear and accept.

Remember the tale of the Emperor with No Clothes? It could have been the story of the Bad Boy who Spoke Disrespectfully of the Emperor, or the tale of the Town who Promoted Nudity or the Tale of the Emperor and his Big Pink.... Butt, even the tale of The Year All the Sheep Died.

It is not a matter of how black or how white.

It is a matter of how far back and how little of the story you want to hear.

How much will you hear before you judge?


Monday, September 04, 2006

The loading of the links!!!

Hi all!

Finally I've found the perfect solution to permanently put up my voice blogs! Here are all (most) of them, so for those who have not had the chance to destroy your eardrums...well, here it is!

The back-by-popular-demand JihPahBan album:

Commentary- always always hear this before hearing the song

Choujidan- the extra behind the scene

JPB- the song that propelled this blog to notoriety

Mariah- the comeback single sure to chill you even in sunny singapore

The Miss N and AKK series: stars guest fren Miss N on her valuable contributions and countless giggling. There's no better audience....

Miss N and AKK on a quest- Quest for what? click to find out...

Conversation with Miss N about the treadmill- AKK goes to the gym...

The more serious Singsong for A:

Babytalk- hey, brown eyes, this is for you....

yup, that's all, folks, sorry for the re-runs, but i'm in the midst of editing another vblog right now, so if you guys just bear with me a while.....ahem......

Thanks all!


Kam siah!

hi all!

Very long time no see! Finally got a bit of time to relax, so thank you all for your time and all those finger-clicking onto my blog!

Finally learnt how to use a permanent link! hope it works!

Click here!

enjoy and love you all!


Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Tomorrow is a Big day for me...

Hi all!

I surmise from the title above that some ppl would be thinking exactly the things I want them to think. Which, if you haven't now, you'll be thinking furiously and hence end up thinking what I wanted you to think...either way works.....

No lah, only 'big', not humungous or gigantic...heheheh....if one day, i say GARANTUAN, it's probably time to bring out the champange and toast the rendering of my piece of tattered flesh to me...

For those who are still scratching their heads, then i applaud your mental innocence and hope that you'll find out about it in the best kind of way possible-experimentally and of own free will.:)

But as usual, I digress! Tomorrow's a big day for me because of work! Yes, work, my only other Life right now apart from...well...Life. It's now so huge, it's like a moon eclipse. we are running an event tomorrow that will make or break my supposed career, so the pressure's on to perform. (yes, although i did possibly mention my dream career is to be a nympho, i won't be performing any subtle cloth-ripping moves...sadly...)

So if you guys happen to suddenly go 'ting!' and a light bulb appear over your heads and you screamed, 'oh my GOD, so SHE's AKK!!!'. Please do so quietly hor. Thank you for reading my blog, but pls don't tell my colleagues, my friends, family, A etc etc...In fact, please come approach me and tell me and shake me by the hand. Tell me the secret password loudly and proudly

--what big red ang ku kuehs you've got there!--

.....and give me your name and address. :)

Bear in mind that my slapping you across the face is the second part of the password. Do not walk away from this point! Remain standing stock-still with big grin and stare at me till Security comes, that's the 3rd part! I shall meet you privately at the holding area later....

Leave your windows open tonite too....:)

I'm currently still stuck in my office, which is amazingly full of things I cannot wait to complain, but must shut up because I'm sure the office server picks up words like 'complain', 'boss', 'mistake', 'kopi?' and 'slack' like the US picks up 'bomb' and 'terrorist'. So it will be a mistake to complain about the boss in the midst of slacking while frens jio me 'kopi?' in word format and of cos, i'm too smart to do it, especially in my blog using the interent in my office.

So I shall say nothing. Except that tomorrow's a big day and if you guys don't hear from me here ever again, know that i love you all and would slap you (pretend only)if you were to shake me by the hand tomorrow and give me your name and address (after giving the password)....

Give me luck and to my dear tih-kong, I know i never seem to remember you when my life is good, but tih-kong, pls ba-you me tomorrow is shun-shun-li-li hor. Tih-kong, please twirl your magic over me so i may suddenly possess the knowledge of my professor times infinity, the voice of an angel and the vocabulary of a lawyer.

Kam Siah Kam Siah to infinity also.

ok liao, i better go do my work. You all take care hor. *hugz*



Wednesday, August 16, 2006


Hi all!

Time is now 8.30pm and I'm still working....Haiz...but at least work is frankly extremely exciting and very unnerving... Damn stressful, must learn a lot. Oh well, hope you guys and gals out there are enjoying yourselves, ok? Miss you all so much, dun even have time for msn or even reading your what i miss most...

see see?! i cannot even think straight liao. Those idiots (not naming who) had better increase my pay!!

a little thought:

why, and I mean it, do mature men like young girls and gals, on the whole, like married men?

Is there something different in young single gals that attract older men?
Is there something fascinating about married men that attracts single young girls?
why am I hearing so many incidences of it occurring?

So a sound-out to your pple to Leave your comments....

that's all, folks, I shall be free-er after the month of august. must continue working now...


Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Busy Busy Busy.........

In the new workplace, a conversation between AKK's supervisor and new BB (Big Boss) in the absence of AKK:

S: She's doing pretty ok. Although I think she is a bit of a retard, if you don't mind me saying.

BB: How's that?

S: She's always glassy-eyed and tends towards drooling. Happens everytime I talked to her.

BB: I know that symptom. I see it in my subordinates all the time. It's all down to brain power, you know? You gotta use the power. AKK seems to be always on 'standby'. Perhaps we can make her jot her brain a bit.

S: Like how?

BB: More Work lah. What else? Oh yes, we need to monitor her toilet breaks. She runs off to the restroom pretty often. She seems to have a bladder problem.

S: She has great thirst too, judging from all the trips she made to the dispenser.

BB: Well, as good employers, we've got to help her solve her mental and urinary problems. Next time you catch her smuggling down the hallway again, ask her to run over to your lab and help out the technicians.

S: And her bladder?

BB: Tough love. Cut down her trips to the restrooms and time her breaks.

S: Right you are, Sir. BTW, Sir, it's ingenious.

BB: Yes, of cos. Right, your time's up. You can drink up and go back now. That'll be the last trip for today.

S *inspired and runs off*


So dear all, sorry for the lack of update, visits, hollers from MSN etc etc etc. Work beckons and my jobscope just expanded.

Argh.....but I'm loving it!

Out! (of love for you guys)


Thursday, June 29, 2006

The HK Trip and the GSS

Hi all!!!

Nadnut is quite excited about my buys in Hong Kong, so I've decided to splash all my stuff here to make her green with envy (or not), hur hur....

To all the guys out there, well, you can skip this post lah. It's all clothes and shoes and bag and accessories and.....

Take a look!!!

cotton white strap top with 3 white buttons and turquoise pants with elastic at the hem.

Bought these bags in Nathan Rd, rather like Singapore Orchard road. But frankly? pls go Argyle street for this Far East Plaza look-alike shopping mall crammed to the max with pretty good deals. But don't believe them when they tell you it's real leather. It's not. you can smell the difference.

petal-cut white bag with brown faux leather straps, super big bag. it's got a fabric lining inside, so it'll not fall apart like those plastic linings that rip from the seams.

on the right is a safari print fabric bag from Esprit Factory's only S$20!!!! *gasp!* when in HK, must must go to all those factory outlets, ok?!!! got super serious deals, man!!!

Green knit top with matching flower brooch from Argyle Street. White Pants I just bought from Queensway yesterday at $15 dollars for TWO Pairs!!!! Muahahaha! Eh...if only I can find back the same shop again though. Damn place is a maze....

My best buys in retail were these shoes! all in all, about S$15 a pop! Very nicely made fabric shoes! From Argyle street (see? what u waiting for? go!). First one is my personel favourite, with a grey elephant stitched onto each pair! Second is this rather-like-schoolshoe thingy drawn with a silver marker and edged with gold lining. 3rd is this sunny yellow open-toe wooden plats with silver lining. the 3rd is a bit uncomfortable and i'm a fraid it'll pinch. second pair is sadly very hastily put together, with the inner sole not well glued. I didn't find out till it's too late. so please make sure that u guys check your purchases before u leave the shop.

Oh yes! and here's some of my own works. I've been tinkering with beading recently and have been making some trinkets in preparation for a temple/charity booth drive in december! My colleague have me roped in for half a booth to display my stuff! Yay! it's great because as u can see from the works, I haven't got my jewellery-making thumbs up to scratch yet, so I'm learning still!

Okie! not a lot of wrds but there u have it! Nadnut, hope u are groaning in envy! muahahahaha! and for those who needs further details for HK, I'll try my best to help out!

Next blog shall feature my one single most favorite activity in HK and I'll be posting up a pic of me doing it! eh....sounds a bit wrong...oh, well...

Till then! OUT!

AKK. :)

Thursday, June 22, 2006

This is not a GAME!!!

hi all!

Man, Have I got something for you ladies out there! Yup!!! only ladies!!! unless you are gay, then this post is for you too!!!

This is not a game! in fact, it is MORE than a GAME!!!! I've since spend the last 1 hour trying to get those heavenly perky lips to melt the screen!!! perhaps I'm late and you have all seen it, but hell, have joy must share hor?!!! so I share!!!

there's this competition to make this really handsome man in an online website to kiss you!!!! ain't it fantastic?!! U have to try it out!!!! argghh!!! guys also!!! no kidding, he is too cute and it's too funny!

before you Click on this link, pls be reminded that since it's just a program, you may not need a real sentence to get a response out of him.

for s start,

you may try the following words, which i have used, and enjoy the effects.

check out the various reactions I have gotten him to do

'kiss' or 'smooch'

'handsome' 'gorgeous' and 'eyes'.



'love' and 'sex' can induce different responses too. pls also try 'gay'.

best reaction so far: 'strip' or 'topshop' and 'pants' and 'dance'

yes yes, i believe you guys knew what i asked him to do.....

enjoy! and if there's any more different reactions, pls tell me!!! and for the person who succeeded in making him kiss you, pls tell too! email me if you dun want others to find out! heheehhe......


just came back from HK, perhaps a post on all the stuff I bought? till next time then!!!

Monday, June 12, 2006

Chronicles of A vol 8.: I asked.

hi all!
(oops about the punctuation! Too lazy to shift and too lazy to type on word doc.)

I decided to find out anyways. I figured if he didn't want to say anything about it, I'll probably have to really really start worrying. And since I have this lamentable habit to stick my head in the sand and hide, if I don't do it now, I'd have just remember that I have never asked him and have this little black hole of discontent that will manifest Ito inferiority complex like many years down the road.

Better to have it over and done with than to chew the freaking thing like cud in my four stomachs.

incidentally, I have not been online thru'out the whole week, hence I have not been able to reply to all your comments. I thank you all for the lovely advice. I particularly agree with jayaxe that a marriage cert isn't a absolute road to fidelity, which is why there is always a sense of guardedness about one's partner. Let's face it, it's really not him I worry about, it's the other girls around him that worry me. I think any woman who is decently self-conscious and has a slightly frayed sense of self-worth will agree to it.

but by the time I finished writing the previous entry and have some time to think, I worry less and less about that picture. In fact, when he came back around, I was even ready to let it go. afterall, it's a male thing to have some pin-ups somewhere. And cars are his favorite non-living object. Have a pretty gal draped over it is probably a bonus of sorts.

in any case, it was a fairly easy topic to broach, thankfully. All I have to do was just pop into his room while he was around and manuvereredrederd(when do I stop?) his head to the pile of pictures which he still left very openly on the table (I actually gave him time to realize the pile and see if he went into a flurry to hide them).

AKK: hello! What are these?

So much for tact and subtlety, sorry Zhebin, I cannot reach zhebinism enlightenment liao).

A: eh? What what? Oh , these? pics I took down from the office.

He was completely clueless to me singling out the 2 particular pics.

AKK: I mean these 2 lah. Who's she? Quite chio ah.

Never show fear! Pretend to like the pic as well as he, although you are dying to claw that woman's eyes out for looking so perfect. Admire it for her its worth. it may be the only think she's good at.

A: Oh! Those! Last year's carshow. She asked me to take her pic.

AKK: what? She asked you? Confirm got lots of ppl taking her pic what, why she single you out?

I considered cutting out a her outline in red paper....

A: oh yah, of cos got a lot of ppl taking. But she asked me to take them.

My ah-mah's red wooden clogs will be wonderful in easing out all those creases on the paper....

AKK: Why?

A: cos she said she will not see any of those pics they took of her unless she asks, so she asked me, among some of them. She gave me her email so I can send them.

A couple of joss-sticks to burn spot where her Bambi eyes are....

AKK: hmmm....And you find it very normal? Her asking you, among all those hum-sup old perverts/lechers she could have asked to get the pics from? In any case, why you put the pics up in the office?

A: *suddenly looking alert and he peered closer at me* AAAyyyyyYYYyy??!!! You JEALOUS AH??!!

Maybe a cut-out of him also....

AKK: No I wasn't! I just think it's a tacky pick-up line. U mean u never thought she was trying to hook up with u meh?

A: yes, you are! And yes ah, I know she's trying to pick me up.

AKK: well, you could have said NO lor.

A: well, it's not everyday got chiobu want to pick me up lah. Anyway, you can tell from her looks that she probably has never been rejected outright before. scarly she turn into monster if I said sorry, I dun wan to take her pic or get her email add, then how? If got hansem boy tried to pick you up, u'd be flattered also mah.

AKK: *intrigued despite herself* so did you talk to her? How was she like?

A: Empty.

AKK: You are saying that to make me feel better.

A: No, really. She didn't know nuts about the car she was posing for.

And that summed up A's overall love for cars and all things cars....

upon further interrogation careful detecting, the office had a large noticeboard 'supposed to be filled with event pics' but had been sorely maltreated by the 80% male cohorts in the workplace. On top of pictures of company dinners and state affairs evident from his pile, there were also some 'eye-candy' contributions apart from his carshow gal.

AKK: so why did you have to take all the pics back?

A: Someone tacked a Sports Illustrated Calendar and pissed the boss. He took it down and asked us to revamp the board to a more suitable content.

I knew what that means....

AKK: Hypocrite!

A: ya lor, my fren hasn't recovered from having his calendar 'confiscated'.

So, once again, a much-ado-about-nothing.

I figured next time just ask liao, no need to pretend. Although we all like to project the worse case scenario, but seriously, there are a hundred and one reasons more that can perfectly answer that burning question.

Now, I just wish there was a Chocolate Show with lots of male models immersed in chocolate fountains and draped over chocolate sculptures.



Friday, June 09, 2006

Chronicles of A vol. 7: hmmm.....

Hi all!

you know that when ppl get maried, we are all supposed to be trusting of one another. i think trusting A is all well and good, if only my own inferiority can catch up with his multitude of chio, rich frens ala AC days.

so can i ask if i should even open my mouth about that batch of photos strewn over this desk? 2 of which showed this gal leaning against a car at a carshow.

why being worried is a given:

1) she is chio.
2) she is slim (and has ab muscles like what i used to have).-_____-
3) she is fair with a beautifully made up face and flawless skin.
4) she is one of the showgals at the car show and her bod is better than mine and she's not wearing much to cover it up.
5) there's double-sided tape behind the pic. it's a no brainer to confirm that it had been displayed somewhere till now.
6) the rest are office pics with colleagues and bunches of guys and gals. and there ain't no pics of me.

why i shouldn't worry:

1) it was my name on the piece of marriage cert.
2) he is not stupid. he would have hid it if it was important. or perhaps by reverse psychology, he didn't think he was doing anything wrong.
3) my pic is on his handphone screensaver and wallpaper and he sees me almost everyday.
3) And the lousiest of all reasons and yet which is the basic backbone of the marriage union (ie. based on pure trust that no one is lying and which can never be scientifically proven)-he said he loves me.

so after i've weighed the pros and cons, it's not a wonder to conclude:

---------------I'm worried-------------------

i have been known to be too scientific and years of reading journals of men being naturally polygamous is not helping me win this tussle for level-headedness. i hate that i should be distrustful, but i also think it's my survival instinct kicking in. which woman can't help but feel inadequate when faced with a man's sometimes seemingly callous actions (ie. he should have put them pics away knowing i'm pretty inferior as a person)?

Someone pls offer some opinions/explanations. especially if u are a guy. OTOH, can the gals tell me what u'd do in such a situation? should i ask him about it? it's hardly rifling thru his drawers. heck, they were lying on his desk fit for any eyes walking past his room.

thanks! Will keep updated.


akk. :)

Friday, June 02, 2006

Chronicles of A vol. I-lost-count : Jogging

Hi all!

It was those once-in-a-blue-moon efforts to slim down that I decided to go jogging one day after work. Just so that the sun has still not set, I snuck out 1 hour ahead of the official teng-chu time and made it home with an hour of daylight left to spare. Oh ya, I had to do a little mission-impossible stunts as I was trying to walk out of the office in full view of everyone without letting them know I’m walking out in full view of everyone.

I just wore the same beige colour as the wall and dragged my beige sweater over my hair and arms and stood behind the office’s only flowerpot of fake plant that was slowly dying. So when the whole office realise the flowerpot had walked to the door, I was sprinting in pixie steps to freedom. At one point in time, just when the lift door opened, I heard footsteps downstairs. Since no one in their right mind is going to climb any form of stairs when the lift is available, I jump out of the lift before it snapped shut, only to let it open 1 floor below to admit all those lazy bums. Such Pigs, make me huff one flight down.

There a few slamming-flat-against-the-wall moments when I hear those expensive click-click of leather shoes (if you hear the flap flap of $2 flip-flops, it’s one of us), but I managed to escape unscathed.

I got home only to find A was around too, so he we decided to jog together, after he convinced me that he will not

1) Laugh hilariously at my jogging style. i.e Run like a gu-niang with limp wrists whose afraid of stepping on grass. Watch me do a hop-scotch at the garden path.

2) Talk to me during the jog, because I will automatically turn to the sound of a voice and hence, crash and burn.

3) Run too far ahead and leave me smelling his sweat and eating his dust.

4) Run too slow and let his vision be eclipsed by the size of my monstrous butt. This is for his safety.

5) Roll his eyes and get pissed if I have to stop and start rescuing snails from their misguided race across the path to the other side.

6) Make any comments about my state at the end of the run, the sweat, the water dripping from all pores and orifices, the shaking limbs and the siao-lang-keng-hairstyle.

I was as equally amused to see he is handling my demands as I was horrified to find that he is quite determined to jog with me. I have never let anyone watch me jog because they have their own eyes to care about. It’d be so irresponsible to make them pop watching me trundle alongside them like a gay elephant.

Just as we were about to set off with 30mins of light left to spare, his handphone rang. I was beside myself with relief until he motioned that it’ll take only 1 minute and I should wait for him.

So I waited and waited till the sun had set, the moon was up and my mum is screaming at us to eat dinner…..

There was a snap when he closed his phone and announced, ‘let’s go!’

I didn’t have the heart to tell his enthusiastic face that I’m slightly night-blind.

So after we made our way there, he gently placed me a bit further away from him (because I kept bumping him) and we started jogging. I had my ears plugged with pumping songs to distract me from the pain in my chest and thighs (and arms and feets and...). When you are fat, you not only run against your own weight, but also against air current and friction of those free swinging weights called saddlebags, love handles and underarm flab. Imagine running in near dark without proper vision and ears blocked by headphones. I felt like I was transported to a place where my pounding feet don’t belong to me and the floor beneath them was riddled with dark shapes and holes.

So it wasn’t long before something happened.

Seeing the floor come up to meet me was the easy bit. At the moment when you just had to close your eyes to silently scream along with Mariah Carey’s Fantasy Baby …’sweet sweet fantasy baby, when I close my eyes, you come and you taakkkeee meeee….OOOhhhhh oooHHHhoooohhAAAaahhhhrrGGGGHHHHHhh…’, and the next moment, you feet gets caught in a strip of grass posing as a darker shade of concrete flooring, the body slowly crashes headlong into a pinwheel of limbs and flab and shoes while the face says ‘hi’ to the tarmac.

That’s not the end. In fact, the fall was like any fall that I usually fall-----trip, legs crossed, tumble, feet in air, somersault and grand finale, face in mud.

It was the noise level. Halfway panting through the whole bloody course, I was already wheezing and heaving with every step. A tried his best but he was dying for at least a speed faster than the strolling pram ambling along the opposite side, so we subsisted into a jogging pace that made him somewhat 3 steps ahead of me.

Which made him unable to see me when I fell.

But he certainly heard me.


When A turned around, he found me half plastered across the path, playing dead. After a few more whimpers, I managed to ease myself up slowly with a brave, half-worried smile of reassurance that would have won me Grammys.

While he gently got me up and brush me down, he said,

‘You OK?’

‘Yea, yea…..’ Cue brave smile.

‘Sure?’ he replied.

‘yes, I think so.’ Cue slight frown, braver smile.

‘OK.’ He relaxed.

Then he piped up, ‘Only you were screaming like a banshee just now; I thought you broke something.’

‘eh…afraid you won’t hear mah.’


‘Scared u cannot hear mah!’

‘You fall, I’ll hear one what.’

‘Aiyah….,’ and I started on a long discourse in the middle of the garden path. ‘Some people fall, can make body-hit-floor kind of noise—like piak piak noises.’ And I clapped my hands together to prove the point.

‘Skinny people make bone-hit-floor noises—like kok kok noises. Me, I Marshmallow Man. I fall, no noise.’

By now, I can see his eyes are looking from side to side, but I was on a roll and warming up.

‘Er dear…’

‘So so must signal to you mah. Garden here so many smooching couples. So lak-sey if I not only fall down in front of them, and they see my partner happy-happy disappear round the bend mah.’


‘So, when the ground fly up to my face, I tell myself, must make sure A hears!’

‘Okok!’ and with that, he quickly reach around my neck and pluck out my earphones.

My screaming Linkin Park track is suddenly replaced by a deafening silence. I was made aware of all the ‘smooching couples’ turning our way, even the ones from 4 benches off.

Even the crickets were silent.

A then held my hand and slowly led me, traumatised, dumb and limping, through the long pathway back home. Even through my night-blindness, I can see some wide white grins floating past my side. Before long, we were walking faster until we rounded the corner, whereby A burst out laughing and laughing until I hoped he burst his spleen.

‘I think ….*gasp* *gasp*… we should…… muahahaha……jog together more often....muahahah....’

Choujidan……if I ever doubt his sincerity in hitching me, it's gone now. While I'm sure there could be so many girls who could be his Muse, I'm his one-and-only Comedy Central.



Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Rabbit Parents

hi all!

I know that Zhebin has broached this subject before but I am pissed. Really really pissed.

Pls don’t have kids if you
1) Just like the sex ie. You cant wait for the condom to be worn before you got down to business.
2) Are Too young ie. You are still beholden to a Principal who sent you for detention for dying your hair.
3) Are Poor ie. You live off your parents and what you make can only feed you alone or less. Worse, you are unemployed and have sex with your gf/bf to pass the time.
4) Are seeing a married man.
5) Aren’t prepared. And this counts in all those who are pro-life ie, die die also don’t abort the child, must keep it becos of religion, moral, ethics etc.
6) Are violent. Having a kid won’t make a man start thinking pink elephants and tune down his anger, ok? Having a kid also won’t solve your depression in a marriage going downhill OR make him come back. If you can think like that, you’ll need to see a counselor. You are obviously more disturbed than you think.

You know why I’m suddenly talking about this? Becos of the Saturday edition of the Straits Times. The whole day started innocently enough with lil’ sick me watching Jimmy Neutron and Spongebob on TV, then bad choice, I had to pick up the papers and start reading the back issues.

Pages and pages of kids being introduced. Their background, their poverty, the lack of space in the house, the lack of privacy, the lack of education, the lack of parental guidance, the lack of love, the lack of food.

I can go on forever: the lack of a table to eat and do homework, the lack of a quiet environment, the lack of communication, the lack of everything that a child should be provided with.

Perhaps as you are reading this, you may think that I’m being too much. You may think that while some kids do have less, they are being brought up to understand that money is very important. If you are thinking like this, then pls go back and read the papers, I have no time for you.

The thing that really gets me furious, that really got me mad, was the recurring action the kids make in every one of these articles:

They load themselves with lots of tap water to tamp down their hunger pangs. During recess, during dinner, when they sleep.

Pls tell me this isn’t right, that no one should have to do this.

Because I’ve done it. And stupidly I did it because there were chocolate chip cookies in the bloody fridge but I didn’t want to brush my teeth again while preparing for bed. So I drank water. I remembered how the water bloated me and rolled all over the tummy and made me toss and turn in bed. i subsisted like this for a few yrs, when somehow at around 1030, my stomach will start to rumble.

And while the thought of putting anything in my mouth makes me faintly nauseous after all the water, it doesn’t stop the hunger and the feeling of emptiness. I hated that feeling and reading all these articles brought these feelings back to me. To know that these kids had to do it, not by choice but by necessity and having to do it every single meal-time irks me.

I hate feeling upset over social-economics, I hate feeling angry over stupidity. Because why these kids have to be read about in the news is due to their parents’ stupidity.

Example no. 1 and this is not the exact one taken from the newspaper, it is certainly like a summary of most the stories combined:

Mum marries dad and have 3 kids. Mum divorces cos dad beats her. Mum works to bring those kids up. Up till here, I was thinking, fine, wow! Brave woman! Then…mum meets another guy. Guy becomes step-dad. Then mum and step-dad have ANOTHER 2 kids. Now five kids squashed in small flat. Mum stops working to look after kids. Then step-dad loses job. Becomes violent. A family of seven squished in a small flat filled with anger matches and fights.

Example no 2:

Mum married Married man and had 4 kids. Married man went back to his country to his own kids and wife. Mum works as menial labour to bring them up. Met another guy, married him and had a MORE kids. Step-dad became abusive and they divorced. Last count: 6 kids,1 parent and no money.

Example no. 3:

Parents hold proper jobs like sale personnel and admin. Have 3 kids, but all foist onto the grandma. Every month, both parents rather spend on buying new handphones, pay for their extravagant phone bills, get gadgets and MP3 players and CDs and watch movies, rather than pay for the babies, diapers, milk powder, clothes and their education. Get subsidies from the gov’t.

After reading about these articles, I have come to a few conclusions and I shall be nasty about it:

These parents are uneducated. I don’t mean education as in go to school and get your Ns and Os and As paper. I mean education as in condoms, contraceptives and the simple mind exercise of actually bringing yourself to think a bit further than your current situation. To them, life is a tunnel-vision, they cannot see the horizion, they only see 1 pinprick of light. They don’t plan what to do and how to do and where to go, they just go with the flow, just drift along. Spend now and heck the future. Oh dear, I’m pregnant. Again. Let me cum in you, we won’t be so suey. Mum, I love him and I want to marry him. In any case, there’s always divorce.

These parents don’t love their kids, they love having them, but they don’t love them. If you love your kids, u’d want the best for them, at the expense of your own happiness, yes? Then why is this kid having to drink tap water just to fill his tummy and yet watch you balloon every single year to give him a brother or a sister who will only fight for his food and make him drink more water so he can give up his share? Why must there be so many kids???!!! Most couple I know stop at 2 or 3 and they are already strapped for cash and these people earn 2-5 times more already, so why doesn’t the mums from these examples just stop producing? They are like, like, rabbits!!! They can’t stop rearing!

Don’t give some crap about the joy of motherhood, the look of these cute babies when they were young.

Pls see that each and every one of these children are not like pets, they are not bunnies! They have a life span of 60 and above and are entitled to at least have 3 square meals, a proper education, clothes on their back until 18, and this is only the logistics. How about the emotional needs? To at least let them have something to be proud of? To pick up their heads? A form of self-respect? Like ‘I may not have books, but my mum stopped her handphone subscription just so that we have the money to buy newspapers everyday/every other day/every weekend.’ In case you don’t know, a monthly subscription of the Straits Time/Lianhe zaobao/ hand delivered to your home at 7am in the morning is $23/month, less if you just buy off the stands everyday. Or ‘I don’t have $2 for pokemon cards, but I’ve got $2 for recess.’ Rather than, ‘ay, buddy, you have money to spare, my dad used the last dollar to buy toto.’

if you can't provide for them, then DON'T!

Finally, I’m going to say something really bad right now. It’s bad because it’s my honest-to-goodness opinion and because nobody likes to be told the obvious. If nothing new is done and no effort is made, then poverty literally begets poverty. Poor people birth more kids than they can handle. This is absolutely inherent in all the examples in the newspaper and in this entry, baring the one example where poverty is a result of a fatal accident or illness of the parent.

If one is poor and one has just 1 or 2 kids, then things would really be less taxing, won’t it? Compared to 4-6 kids? In fact, another article in the Times has another example like this: Dad and mum have 1 kid. Combine income, after CPF, after house loan, after ultilities, household expenses etc etc, enough to get by. Then couple wants to have another kid. Now got two kids. Dad tells mum to stop work and rest. Income cut by one-third and family member increase by one-third. That's half the pay for per member of the family.

At this point, things would have gotten worse (I truly believe) because this couple wanted to have FIVE kids, but heng heng, they signed up for this Home Ownership Scheme where, in order to enjoy $50,000 off their HDB loan, they must agree to stop after 2 kids. In fact, it is legally binding only if the mother went for ligation to tie herself up.

Can you not see what I saw? The gov’t itself believe that poverty is perpetuated by breeding more than one can care for and that poverty itself, breeds more than it should. The whole deal is in 2 parts. Why does the gov’t give this scheme to low-income groups and not to high-income groups? Why ask us to have more kids and give more babies and still have this scheme to stop low-income groups from having more? Why not tell high-income couples to stop at 2?

Because low income couples tend towards birthing more babies and more babies by low-income people increases the poverty line and create more poverty-stricken adults.

If you still want to argue, then think 3rd world countries versus Japan and Europe.

Everyone loves to hide behind words like ‘stereotyping’ and point accusing fingers, saying that not all examples are like these and that there are others who have successfully emerged as winners through poverty and hardship. Of cos there’s always a hero in every category. Of cos there is always the winner in all these examples.

But I am talking, not about them, but about the normal, the majority, the 99.99% of the rest of those water-imbibing kids. I am talking about the kids who need help, who cannot but feel terrible about themselves, whose tummies rumble even when it’s packed with water! I am thinking for them!

So never never ever ever have kids when you are poor! only have kids when you are truly prepared! Prepared meaning a proper shelter, a nest of savings wholly for the child, insurance and RESPONSIBILITY. Don't let your kids be bunnies!



Monday, May 29, 2006

24 weird things about me?

hi all!

tagged by Ollie on this:

Actually I never think much at all thought about myself so much, nor have 24 weird thing that bears writing on paper. I do in fact, have weirder frens though.

1. I hit 55kg when I was just in pri 4 and only 1m tall, bullies used to play dodgeball using with me to squish smaller and lighter kids.

2. I was a self-serving bitch in primary till sec 2 school who didn’t have any frens. I am the original kiasu/kiam-pah kid featured in i-not-stupid. I believed that jack neo used me as his muse.

3. I use to read Shakespeare for leisure. Yes, I am also a smart-ass then. My all-time-favourite is ‘taming of the shrew’.

4. I use to listen to celtic music….like riverdance…and actually watched Yanni’s concert at the acropolis on TV and cried.

5. I have bigger thigh circumference than my own hubby. As much as I want to believe it is true, he does not have chicken claws for legs…

6. I look like a boy so much that until I was in sec 1, I routinely used the men’s toilet whenever the female ones are too crowded. That occurred until even my dad got uncomfortable that I would spring up behind him and make him lose concentration that he ordered me never to appear in a male toilet hence.

7. when I grew my hair longer and looked a bit more on the right side of the gender race, the HK customs refused to let me pass after seeing the old pic in the passport and asked me why have I got my brother’s passport in my hands. I was so embarrassed and held up that I told him to please note the moles on my face and check they have the same orientation as the passport photo. He scolded me and ordered me to change my pic when I get back.

8. I am really dirty-minded. The first thing upon getting internet was to check on how to get pron undetected.

9. I am really dirty-minded. The first thing upon knowing about an online book company that caters to SG was to check if they have erotica.

10. I am really dirty-minded and like all dirty-minded beings, I’m the last to really know what I’m missing. In fact, although I tried to find pron on the internet, I still didn’t know about how sex was done until I saw the educational video in sec 2.

11. When I found out about it, I screamed.

12. Whenever I cut my nails, I’ll always always forget to cut my right index fingernail until I have put the cutter away and washed my hands.

13. I was a da nai ma puo-ba in JC, that in itself is not a weird thing, it’s the not-knowing-wat-happened-since that is.

14. I had successfully lost weight through 2 different diets last time and am proud of it. One was the milk diet, where u substitute all your liquid intake into low-fat/hi-cal milk and drink around 4-6 glasses of it everyday. Eat normally still, mind you.-2 weeks-->2 kg. but then, it maybe because I’m lactose-intolerant. The other is the water diet, you literally drink at least 2 liters of water everyday, no change to diet, 3 weeks--> 2 kg. but since I’ve never liked milk nor water…I stopped already. But it worked!

15. I am admittedly most enamoured of Terry Prachett and his books. I still have yet to get my ultimate wedding present of all his 28 (and counting) titles in sealed, mint condition. I have read all of his books at least twice, if not 5-6 times.

16. I don’t have 24 weird things about myself.

17. Oh yes, this is one of my most boring entries, but that’s not weird either.

Does anyone wanna contribute to more weird things abt me? Esp from frens? Ahem….

Akk (sick like Zhebin…)

ps Jaschoc, I have the entry for the meme but i don't have the laptop with the doc. so i do this first. paiseh.

‘What good is a god who gives you everything you want?’


‘It’s the hope that important. Big part of belief, hope. Give people jam today and they’ll just sit and eat it. Jam tomorrow, now- that’ll keep them going forever.’

-Albert, Death’s manservant, explaining the concept of humanity to his boss in Hogfather, Terry Prachett.