Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah hey...

When I saw the running ticker on Channel News Asia last night about a ferry sinking accident in Mersing/Sibu where 3 Singaporeans died, I laughed out loud and then I cursed.

How bloody stupid, I said.

Then I heard the details in the news bulletin later. Sadly, the details confirmed my suspicions all along.

29 passengers and 2 crew members on a bumboat designed for 12 peeople.

No one donned life jackets.

The ferry sank less than 300 m from the jetty.

So clever lor, Singaporeans.

Aiyah, never mind lah... sunny weather, short distance (to shore). Let's just squeeze a bit. Can one lah.

So "mah fun" (troublesome). No need to wear lah. All of us good swimmers right?

Thank you you, you all lor. For your heroic acts, your insurance covers are all void. Yay...

Man, I'm still seething from their sheer stupidity that I'm not even coherent here.

El stupido Singaporeans. Stupid, dumb, kayu, bodoh, gila, jiak sai tua...

More

What don't go well together...

Christmas

Rebuilding hard disk data from back up system

Making 18 tiramsu

Playing Tap Fish, Tap Fish Exotic, Tap Ranch, Tap Resort Party, GodFinger All Stars, We Farm Safari, and Adventure Bay simultaneously on an iPhone

Planting broccoli on We Farm Safari

Having a mahjong game after a steamboat dinner

Sleeping till 10 am

Undone laundry

The day after Boxing Day.

What I really really want...

[This post is inspired by Quinsy. I had wanted to reply to her FB post but as I wrote, I decided defacing my own blog would be more appropriate than her FB account. So here goes.]

If I were a woman, what do I really really want?

Is it love?

No. I want three things: Money, sexual satisfaction, and companionship. What can a man provide? All three? Unlikely. So how?

Well, we call it "phases".

As with all critical events analysis, there is a tipping point or key lever that holds the entire picture together. Looking at the three things, what will that key lever be?

Let's begin with a few simple questions:

1. Can companionship get you money?

2. Can sexual satisfaction get you money?

3. Can money get you companionship?

Ok, these are not meant to be answered out loud. Supposing you can't get more than one thing, which one of the three will greatly help you towards the other two?

Again, I don't expect an answer.

My point is simple: identify the key lever, milk it for what it is worth, then pursue your other interests.

There was an article some time ago that said that modern man - sexist, I know - should have at least three marriages. One to help him in his career, one to get him his family, and one to see him into old age and death. The key idea is "phases", consecutive marriages. It's not concurrent. I've got to make this clear, lest I'll be stoned for promoting polygamy - I did not, I do not, and I will not.

So once one knows what one's priorities are, it'll become much easier.

No?

Email Repopulation

My hard disk crashed and I've lost all your email addresses.

If you wish to be back in my mailing list, please send me an empty message so I can restore your email addresses in my address book.

Many thanks.

Facebook

While I have set up an account yesterday, the account will remain largely dormant for a simple reason: My private life is not for all to see.

I will add you if you make a request.

I will use FB only be for staying abreast with information.

Wikileaks

Would you like it if the records of what you had spoken with another person were hacked and then exposed to the world?

I don't think you will like it very much. If you do, then why do you make such a big fuss if I read your diary or your phone messages?

And I am a singular audience. How would you like it if I told all my friends what the messages were about? Worse, if I get to selectively show to the world the worst of you to totally discredit you, would you embrace that?

If not, then why can Wikileaks be acceptable? How can there be blatant disregard of communicative engagement?

This entry is either preaching to the choir or drawing immediate resistance. Few people would understand the folly and maliciousness of these acts until they become victims themselves.

There is a place for secrets and the unspoken. There is an even larger place for privacy.

The only place to take a leak, to me, is the toilet.

Life on a Plate

Plate 1: Mound of rice with a single meat and vegetable dish.

Plate 2: Pile of rice with two meat and vegetable dishes.

Plate 3: Some rice with one meat dish, two meat and vegetable dishes, and one fish dish.

There are of course variations on what can go on the plate with its accompanying variable amount of rice. But one glance at the plate of each diner walking away from the rice stall in Thailand tells a story. A story of relative affluence mixed with absolute hunger.

Rich or poor, hunger treats everyone equally. But sadly, the poorer often have to go hungrier.

Genius is unparalled

As I had expected, it was not a B773 aircraft that was deployed on the service.

It was an oil guzzling B744. Narrowest seats in the wide body range. Workhorse of the industry, reliever of demand on busy routes, panacea of sorts.

Thank god for the two hour flight. The last time I was on an SQ B744 to JFK, I swear I was a hair's breadth away from mid air rage. Ok, maybe half a hair's breadth.

I've got an aisle seat this time. Let's see if this can get any worse.

Dark clouds overhang the skies at Changi Airport. Let the bumps begin.

Guess who's going on a holiday?

Momo.

Another Trip

Leisure trip to Bangkok this time. 8 to 12 Dec.

TG aircraft has not arrived yet; on paper it is supposed to be a B773. Big bird, and hopefully comfortable too. And I just realised Garuda Indonesia has a new livery on its planes.

Air Seychelles has two seagulls (?) painted on each side of its tail. Permanent bird strikes? :)

Let's have some air turbulence!

Example of an Imperialist Pighead

Given it two days but still could not let it go. Not because I am still angry - I'm not - or I had to vent - I don't. I just wanted to make a record of the day I successfully made good use of my size to jettison some white trash.

Stew Art Bow Ye (name changed to protect the innocent - me) was in the wrong plane seat. I know, since I had seen his boarding pass.

Ye was in the wrong plane seat. And nothing gets me goat more than an unwelcome passenger in a supposedly empty seat. And then it gets worse.

Ye was on his cell phone even after the crew told all passengers to turn off their cell phones and all transmitting equipment. Ye was a self-important, self-absorbed British boor who had no qualms speaking out loud about how people will make things happen if they deem the project important enough. He was sending text messages to no end. Even as the plane was finally taking off - after an hour-and-a-half of delay - he was checking his phone for text messages! Why? Was it so important if a message came in now? What difference would it have made, Ye? Were you simply going to reply to that message?

Ye was a dirty sod - that's the word - who had no qualms putting his lanky feet up against the panel at the plane's bulk head, high up! Never mind if infant bassinets were hung there if there were young'uns on board. Never mind if his moccasins were dirty and marking. Never mind if he had already stained the plastic frame of the 10-inch personal inflight entertainment personal that he had to rub off the stains with his thumbs. (Payback came rapidly as he ate peanuts off those crappy hands and washed them down with Tiger beer.)

While it took me a while to square how the airline actually left empty seats between each block of three seats but yet my block of three were fully occupied but the right hand block only had ONE passenger. Before I had that squared, I tolerated Ye. I shared the almost non-existent arm rest between us, never mind I had a full one on the aisle side.

Epiphany came not long after. His seat printed on the boarding pass is 31K. That meant Ye had not a chance of sitting in seat 31E. Knowing my trump card, I marched up to the galley where the attendants were and asked them if they could evict Ye from the seat not meant for him. I immediately knew they were painted into a corner by my request.

A senior male attendant immediately apologised for not being able to make him move and in a bid to pacify me asked if I could like a seat change. Ha! That rubbed me the wrong way. Why should I change my seat when I was in my rightful seat. I was not asking for a seat change. I was asking for a potential-murderer-in-practice to get out of my "elite uncaring face". Oh wait, it should be "elite concerned face".

So I turned the request on its head and asked to know if the flight manifest listed the seat as taken. If it were - see the use of tenses here - I would share my airspace and arm rest. If it was not, then I know my rights. And I walked back to my seat.

Man, I felt so goddamn righteously aggrieved, if there were this feeling. I did not give two (raised left middle finger) (raised right middle finger) expletive. Actually, knowledge is greatly empowering. And I was either too tired or too sure I was going to win this, I was hardly angry or perturbed. On my way back to my seat, I even joked to a friend seated a handful of rows behind me that I was taking back my flight information region (aka airspace). She asked why I would not change a seat and I replied matter-of-factly; because I did not have to.

I went back and I began with taking back more than half the arm rest. Thereafter, the female attendant whom I first spoke to came, bent over and said, "Mr Tan, that is not his seat." I thanked her.

Thereafter, I (I bet if Ye kept a blog or some social media thingy, he would have called me a Chinese Chauvinistic Pig, emphasis on pig, I believe) began the personal civil war that would have made America proud. Except I'm not American. But you get the drift.

Subtly but forcefully, I regained my airspace. He ceded and retreated, retracted and yielded but how much can you shrink into a cattle class seat when you are more than 6 feet tall? I began taking back my full arm rest and after dinner, I slept and leaned towards the middle seat. He slinked further inwards and I stretched further out. Before I knew it, the seat was empty.

Victory was mine! In the first place, Ye should have simply taken his own seat, or tried his luck taking the aisle seat on his side. Few people would take kindly to having some dope fill up the empty middle seat. I bet Ye's intention was to place his feet on the bulk head board. I think airlines should charge these people who intentionally do that cleaning charges. But that's for the airlines to decide. I just feel sorry for the babies who had to be near those boards.

Now, all these being said, if the flight were full, I would have played by the rules, shared and be nice to all arseholes on the flight who should have taken either the flight before or after.

Two things stand out in this episode:

1. Airlines should retain the right to make passengers return to their assigned seats.

2. Monitoring of use of cellphones and transmitting equipment should either be made obsolete (if deemed unnecessary) or stringently enforced. Why enforce a requirement with mere lip service?

Moral of the story: If you want to play punk, find someone your own size and IQ.

There are nine million...

... bicycles in Beijing.

So the song goes. But no. I think there are now nine gazillion cars in Beijing. Trust me. Nine million bicycles was so last millennium.

Anyway, I'll be in Beijing from 29 Nov to 3 Dec. Hopefully the last work trip for 2010.

One sign of being swamped

When you are planning an official work trip, you dread the trip to high heavens; when you are finally on that official trip, you dread the return to high heavens.

Common idea: High heavens.

Psychoanalytical equivalent: Too much work to handle, all stacked up.

At least that is what I think.

Walking on thin ice

Feels that way five days a week.

The incessant screaming and scolding, even if not meant for you, are unnerving.

And that's only the top molecule of the ice berg.

There are times when the heart decides it is best to turn into a hard little hailstone and attempt to destroy everything in its path until the sun rises to melt it.

Yet there are times when even as a hard little hailstone, the heart is no less fragile as a snowflake. Each little hailstone takes a unique shape, just like the snowflake, but each uglier than the one before.

All around, there is laughter, care and concern. Even if there is no (platonic) love, there is empathy and resonance. Yet there is one corner that such tenderness does not reach.

I am not feeling particularly happy and my body is telling me it is not particularly happy. I can cut through my stress with a knife but at no time is the stress from me. It is from around me.

And yet there is scant I can do...

Quantitative Easing Explained

Gang Fights

Why ban gang fights?

Why not turn *Scape (or whatever its name) into a gang fighting ground from between 2 am and 5 am every morning?

Make it simple and accessible, like the Speakers' Corner. Register and fight, as long as religion and race are not involved.

Truth and Reality

Reality can some times be so different from the truth though no lying is involved.

How many people actually note the intense lobbying behind the scenes? People just think if they achieve the outcome of what they desire and, if they get what they want, accept that as the truth. However, what about the unsung heroes who spent countless hours trying to persuade the undecided or the hell-bent against to move over to this side of the fence?

The truth often looks paltry compared to the reality on the ground. But how many people actually appreciate that the road to the truth is lined with worst-case realities?

In the malnourished lap of luxury

Ok, call me a bitch but I'm still getting these off my chest.

1. What use is a 60 square meter big room with a 21" old Sony TV, so old that the numbers on the remote have been thumbed off by the long list of occupants before me?

2. What use is having the South China Sea as your wet playground when you have not a single day where the water is clear enough for you to see two inches deep?

3. What use is having multiple buildings in a sprawling 180 hectare compound when the buildings are not properly linked to each other and the forbidding heat and humidity make all effort to travel from point to point nothing less than a sweaty one?

4. What use is a huge central block when your breakfast area is totally cut out from all the rooms? One had to first get to the lobby on Level 5, before descending to Level 3 FROM the lobby area to get to breakfast.

5. What use is having rooms on one side of the building to capitalise on and thereby sell the feature of ocean facing room when the rooms are located at a leg breaking distance from the lobby?

6. What use is having broadband and wireless connection when one has to pay an exorbitant price to use these in an already exorbitantly priced room?

7. What use is a bath tub without shower gel/bath foam?

8. What use is a mini bar fridge that is not cold enough to freeze ice?

9. What use is an elaborate partition to separate the room from the wardrobe other than to make me walk even more in the room and not provide any useful space for me to hang my clothes?

10. What use is laundry service at B$7.70 to wash each long sleeved shirt? Wouldn't that mean that most, if not all, people wouldn't send anything for laundering, thereby negating the raison d'etre of laundry service at the onset?

11. What use is bitching when one does not have any way of getting out of the quagmire because of work?

What use indeed?

Brunei Trip

Will be attending a week's worth of meetings in Brunei this coming week.

Though I've not been active here - I wish I could be, but work is a bitch - it is still courteous to let my visitors know I'm off for a while.

I might just blog when I'm there, since the meeting venue/hotel is an isolated resort by the sea. How exciting.

Sanity Check

The past weeks have been insane. So insane that I'd rather not blog about them. And so I didn't.

Apart from keeping my work off my private turf, I am also trying to limit the damage that such bitching might do if people read it over here and then carry tales.

There are things I am unhappy about. There are things people do I am unhappy about. I bitch about them in person and I'll leave them as that.

There is more to life outside work. We say it but do we know how to live it? This is a skill many of us sorely lack.

A couple of recent deaths are stark reminders once again of the careless way we live our lives. Again, I believe we should not have to face the inevitable ourselves to wish we had lived differently. In fact, one of them probably had no inkling his life was ending so abruptly; he was all but a 40 year old keep fit guy.

There, I've said it. I'm going to live life! And, how I love ironies, I will persevere in doing it.

Understanding the Images

My new i-Phone 4 has a lotus as a screensaver and the globe as the background (of the active phone).

No prizes for guessing it's a play on "Ah Lian Takes Over the World."

Ok, so anyone wants to take a stab at the symbolism behind this new blog background and layout? :)

The Case for Private Tutoring

Private tutors will thrive for several reasons:

1. A number of top teachers are leaving the teaching service to become tutors. Key reasons - no administration nonsense, no useless staff meetings, no need to teach more than one subject, controlled class size, motivated students, better money, fewer working hours.

2. You get who you can afford. Top tutors command top pay but top teachers get the same pay as the worst teacher in school. So, there is no motivation to outperform your peers if you are a teacher. However, as a tutor, you get creative and innovative so you can deliver a better product than your competitors.

3. Public education is subsidized, leading to students to believe that they are taught inferior stuff in school. Tutoring sessions are not subsidized, so students attending these classes tend to give their tutors more attention.

4. Ability-based lessons provided by tutors cannot be replicated in schools. Even in a group of 20, it is easier to provide targeted learning and lessons. But 20 seems to be the magic number. Any more than that and you lose the ability to provide differentiated learning experiences. Class sizes in secondary schools average 40 students per class.

5. Targeted learning happens in tutoring centres. Simply put, the student learns one or at most two related subjects in a span of 2 to 3 hours. In contrast, in a typical school setting where a class period is anywhere from 30 minutes to 45 minutes, students would need to flit between a few subjects. And because students spend a protracted amount of time on a subject (or two), they concentrate on the key concepts, practice questions, and learn. In a 1 hour double period setting in schools, teachers can't teach for more than 40 minutes. There is first the 10 - 2 rule (2 minutes rest for every 10 minutes of teaching), discipline issues, admin problems, homework collection, corrections etc due in class that one would be happy to get 40 minutes of teaching time. In fact, some teachers are so hung up over the "Good Morning" and "Good Bye" at the start and end of each lesson they spend precious minutes telling the students to stand straight, show respect, greet aloud... Terrible waste of time. I go in and tell my kids on day 1, I'm going to quote a line from Madonna's Evita, "You must love me. Or if not, my subject." That's enough. The kids don't have to greet me at all but they all show plenty of respect. (I'd like to think it's charisma or terror.) Oh yah, before I forget, what is this thing about CCA and CIP? Teach them morals and values? Wait, I need to get a hanky to muffle my laughter... WASTE OF TIME!

So, you see. There is nothing wrong with the GCE O and A level syllabi or on what you test the students. The problem is very very straightforward. Dump in enough money to reward the top teachers, cut down all the unnecessary admin and useless meetings, teach well and teach clearly, stay on task (teach/learn), and don't sweat the small stuff. Cut down CCA and CIP - our kids are getting GCE O and A levels and NOT GCE CCA/CIP. Get our priorities straight.

In any case, I'd applaud the parents who realise that they are getting a better deal elsewhere. If I were them, I'd employ extremely competent tutors and have my child homeschooled. My tutors will teach my child the key subjects (English, Mother Tongue, Math, Science and whatever else is required for promotion to the A levels) while, as a parent, I'll teach morals and values. Why bother with the school system?

But then, I'm probably alone in this rant.

I can't decide...

whether you should live or die...

So goes the song by Scissors Sisters. I love that song. So sick and twisted.

But I like this too.

The standard obstacle course (SOC) is now supplemented by a vocational obstacle course (VOC)! So exciting...

随

很喜欢一个字的命题。它可以让你的思维为所欲为地奔放。放眼望去一片无际的天地海的的确确地能让你虚虚幻幻或切切实实的大发言论或内窥深思。我也好喜欢它的伸缩性。但我最喜欢的是它的随性。

Logic

The Singapore property "porridge pot" has been searing hot and bubbling vigourously until the government turned down the heat to keep the searing hot temperature but dampen the bubbling.

Essentially, my reading of the policy makers' decision is that they are comfortable with the sky high prices but they are worried about the liquidity situation. In short, the porridge can be kept very hot but "let's not boil the liquid away".

To achieve that, a few measures were put in place. I am not entirely sure that I agree with them but let's have a look. All policies take immediate effect on 30 Aug 2010.

1. Private property owners who buy HDB (government housing) apartments must sell their private properties 6 months after receiving their HDB flats.

I agree with this policy. In effect, if you want to live in subsidized housing, then please give up your private property. People call this an anti-speculative measure. But I find this policy did not go far enough. Whereas "downgraders" (people who move from private housing to public housing) are forced to give up their private properties, "upgraders" (people who move from public housing to private housing) are not required to give up their HDB flat. Why then do we allow subsidized housing dwellers dabble in private property investments but disallow the other way around?

Many netizens have rightly pointed out that subsidized housing should be reserved for Singaporeans - including me - who can ill-afford private housing. Why does the government find it acceptable for people who take a subsidy from it thereafter invest their monies elsewhere instead of paying off the government subsidy?

Some who absolutely adore me will argue that I can well-afford a private apartment. But why should I saddle myself with a mountain of debt when, as a Singaporean, public housing should be a basic right enjoyed by all citizens? Just because I am not married, I am not allowed to buy an HDB flat directly from the government. Yet, if I were to agree to marry - even if it were a bogus marriage just to defraud HDB - I could apply for an HDB flat at a subsidized rate. What logic is there?

2a. Private property owners who flip (sell for a profit) their units within three years of the units becoming "occupiable" will be required to pay sellers' stamp duty (1% for first $180k, 1% for next $180k, and 1% for the rest). Sellers get a third discount for every year they hold on to the property, up to year 3.

2b. HDB flat buyers must now serve a minimum 5 year occupation period in their flat before being allowed to buy a private property.

While these two regulations are actually separate, it does take a genius like me - yes, you did not see wrong! - to place 2(a) and 2(b) together to show the contrastive effect of comparable policies.

Whereas the private property owner is penalised through monetary formats, HDB owners are made to serve time. If we are indeed to discourage speculation, then why do you apply such a light stamp duty for such a short period? Shouldn't the stamp duty penalty stretch over 5 years, just like the way HDB dwellers are "imprisoned" in their flats?

If HDB are indeed public housing, then shouldn't the public be made to make sensible choices for what they want and also for the longer term? One should imagine that HDB dwellers should not be allowed to buy any private properties until they pay off their respective HDB loans. However, make provisions to allow HDB dwellers to "upgrade" or "downgrade" after 5 years. There should not be a penalty from HDB to HDB, since no one is allowed to hoold on to two HDB flats as a matter of government policy.

3. Buyers of a second or subsequent property who have existing loans are now required to pay 10% of the property's price in cash (compared to 5% for those without loans) and 20% from their CPF (Singapore's pension/saving fund) (compared to 15%). In other words, the bank loans extended to first time home owners or those without additional debts will be 80% while for the rest of the population, it will be 70%.

Where is the help promised to the first timers? How about reducing the first timer cost outlay to 5% plus 5%? This was done to spur the housing market when it was in the doldrums. Given the eye popping housing prices now and how singles like me (NOT myself - I wonder why people cannot get this grammar item correct) really don't have that much disposable cash for the downpayment, don't say that by fending off competitors, you are "helping me". If the government is truly genuine in wanting to help me, then show me the money.

Ok, the government cannot do that because the banks are going to be over-exposed? Then how about the government bankrolls me a bridging loan? Cap it at the lower of 5% of the property valuation and 50,000, charge me bank interest rates, and make me repay the entire sum over 5 years. That would help a lot. How about that?

While the housing fiasco has turned every Singaporean with an additional dime to spare into an opportunistic home buyer, there are many a Singaporean out there who are struggling because the pennies they have are shrinking in buying power and they are not accumulating money fast enough to catch up with the property price increases.

There is little logic in "cooling" the magic private property porridge pot. The only time sanity will re-enter the market is when the entire township is covered by porridge and anyone who wanted to get home had to eat his or her way in. But then, it wouldn't be porridge that these people are going to eat.

Logic must prevail and to do so, there must be the political will to correct the imbalances.

Two Great Sayings

All I ask is the chance to prove that money can't make me happy. - Mike Milligan

Tomorrow is often the busiest day of the week. - Spanish proverb

Dandelions!

Oh my god! Quinsy changed her blog background design and right at the top, there are a couple of dandelions. Three white ones against a grey background, to be exact.

The falling seeds from the puffy dandelions is exactly the same image I keep seeing in my mind. It is interesting, because it had been some time I had really read my daily reads and today, I caught it.

I like that image of having dandelions blown apart by the wind. The perfect orb of seeds, ready to take flight and take root where and when they find fertile land. The orb will no longer keep its spherical integrity but it has done its job, whatever the reader takes the job to be.

I do, however, know why images of dandelions are dancing in my head recently. They are just there.

I'd live in that garage!

Visited a friend. We got to know each other during the time I taught in SMU. We got along fine and we shared many stories about us. However, our schedules never let us sit down for a good chat much.

Last Saturday, he invited Victor and I to tea at his place. (Interesting that I had to write "Victor and I" because the English Language dictates that I must come in at the end of a conjoined list. But you get the drift.) He lived in the outskirts of Newton/Orchard. His house was built in 1927 on a plot of land at the top of a little hill.

There was a main house and a garage. He moved out of the house and lived in the garage after customizing it into a quaint little house. Quite honestly, I've been to the homes of rich people but this friend is so understated about so many things. I never knew how rich he is and I probably will never want to know. It is not in my place or interest.

To preserve my friend's privacy and to cut the long story short, I am given a little glimpse of what it feels like to live in the lap of luxury. Quite honestly, I bet many people wouldn't mind living in that garage. (Actually, he told me that his garage turned house was featured in an architectural magazine some time ago.)

There!

Sense of Time

Had expected a good end to an otherwise dour week.

The abyss the week began in gave way to semi-heaven as I battled work and then abdominal colic.

Had two crazy days of chasing and chasing after stuff that people owe me and then spent another two days clutching my stomach.

The pain was so bad that I had to go off work midway and make my way to my GP. There, I had to wait in line for 21 patients. My pain got from a 5 out of 10 to 8 out of 10. My long sleeved working shirt got wetter and wetter but I wasn't even feeling warm. It was the pain!

I guess the counter staff saw my misery and probably alerted the doctor. I did not want to tell them about my pain because the last time I tried telling them, I was told that if I could not wait my turn, then I ought to go to the Accident & Emergency Department.

Soon, one patient was not around when his/her number was called. And I was asked to go in instead. Had my jab and my two days' MC. Came home and crashed. Paying off a sleep debt never felt so good.

Then came yesterday. The private transport that I booked to drive me home came 10 minutes late. This is stupid because I delayed getting off work by 45 minutes and paid $5 (instead of the usual $2 thereabouts on public transport) to get home by 7 pm. Of course, by the time I got home, it was 7.15 pm. I am going to try this transport guy once more and if he does not show he is conscious of keeping time, then I might drop him.

In any case, there is this garrulous woman on the mini-van that yaks non-stop. Peace is only restored after she gets off - first, thank God! - at Casa Merah. But that was already more than half the journey done. But if I get driven to the doorstep, I am quite willing to tolerate her showing off and noise.

This transport thingy didn't take the cake.

I had an appointment last night for my hair treatment. I made an 8 pm appointment at 4 pm. As I rushed all the way down from home - no thanks to the stupid transport guy - at 7.42 pm, the hair treatment woman asked if I was ok to go in later, 8.30 pm instead. Ok, I told her.

I went for a quick dinner. The guy selling rice with vegetables was selling gold nuggets instead of vegetables. I hardly had a standard portion of anything!

At 8.10 pm, I stepped into the salon. Shaggy Bitch was there, not even started. So, she must have been the double-booker or the walk-in. Looking at the length of her hair, the treatment is not going to even end by 8.30 pm.

I was right. When the hair treatment lady was done with Shaggy, it was already 8.50 pm. Then instead of letting me begin, she got a waiting customer to wash off the henna on her head.

At 9.05 pm, I stood up and told her, I can't wait any more.

I will do that to her insistently from now on. Make an appointment and if I walk in and she's not ready for me, I will walk off. There is no point in making an appointment if she is not going to keep to her end of the bargain.

She is not running a subsidized medical care facility. At least for those, I am looking at a minimum 50% subsidy from the government. The doctors are beyond overworked and waiting for them while they tend to other more urgent patients and full paying patients is unavoidable. Hey, those people paying $1.05 for a pill while subsidized patients are probably paying $0.10.

Some people just need to be taught a sense of timing and business ethics.

Death rites...

and death wrongs.

Spotted: Half opened offerings to the ancestors

Explanation: If the dead ancestors want to eat, they can use their "super powers" to get to the food. The flies (or imaginary flies) will eat up all the offerings otherwise.

Spotted: Burning joss paper offerings in little stacks of 5 pieces or so

Explanation: The living folk needs a free face toast from the stash of burning joss papers. And the dead ancestor cannot pick up the burnt offerings fast enough if one burns too many pieces at one go.

Sometimes, I just wonder why they can't let go already!

Free Lunches

It was a North Indian buffet lunch with a twist.

Food would be delivered to the tables instead of diners having to help themselves from the common food display.

The spiced papadoms came. Spicy!

The sutchi fillet curry, the mung bean dhal, and the pureed spinach with chickpeas came. So did the bryani rice and a stack of quartered naans.

Then something that was terribly burnt arrived at the table - chicken tikka. I rejected the dish. No way would I accept something so burnt. There were enough charred bits for me to discard every single piece of chicken without a second look.

The waiter insisted that the dish is supposed to be burnt. Hello... I'm Chinese but this is not my first Indian meal! I asked for tandoori chicken. The waiter said my dish was "normal." I queried him why the rest of the tables get tandoori chicken while we get burnt chicken tikka. So he said he'll bring the tandoori chicken.

A millennium later, the tandoori chicken came. The first piece I took was more than half uncooked. I'm ok with slight undercooking but uncooked. I rejected the dish. The waiter did not protest this time, since he saw the condition of the food.

Then lamb shish kebab came. Not the best but it was meat. Then I wanted my tandoori chicken. What is a North Indian meal without tandoori chicken?

Yet, two millennia later, another dish of chicken tikka appeared. I rejected the dish, saying that it wasn't what I ordered. I want my tandoori chicken. Alas, it was out. The kitchen ran out of it.

Fine, what about dessert? I wanted dessert to round off the meal.

We have gulab jamun and assorted ice cream. I was told. I asked to have both and the waiter noted the order.

The gulab jamun came, burnt to the core. The ice cream was ok.

Bill time. I called one of the non-uniformed guys and asked if he was the boss. He said he was a partner. So I told him about my meal and told him that if his restaurant went under, he has his wait staff and his kitchen to thank.

He was apologetic. I was measured and courteous.

We got a free meal. There are free lunches after all. All you have to do is to be at the right place at the right time.

Completing the Squares

There are some things that are hard to square, just like quadratic expressions. But I think I have some of them figured out.

For starters, why do smokers exercise? My explanation is that the exercise strengthens their lung functions and enhance their capacities, and help them absorb the deadly chemicals in the cigarettes better.

Why do people not wash their hands after using the toilet, especially before a meal in some eating place? The food they've ordered are too bland and they could do with additional spices.

Why do people not move to the back of a bus or the middle of the train? That part of the vehicle is not going to where they are going.

Why do people not understand that they should avoid smoking before serving a customer? Good service should not include making me share the stinking air your exhale.

Why do people not shower in the morning, even though they stink? Deodorant is too expensive. In any case, their bodies are already producing environmentally friendly, green "fragrance".

Why do people not add enough washing detergent to their laundry? They want their "eau de naturale" to keep their clothes perfumed.

Why do people not think that maintaining quiet is necessary in public? They are hard of hearing.

This list can go on. And perhaps this way, I just have to secretly despise some people without overtly getting more pissed with the rest of them.

Did I even leave?

To all those who are psychologically imbalanced because of my living it up despite bumming around, I'm back at work.

It was in the offing for the last month or so but I'm now officially - well, except I've not signed the Letter of Appointment - back at work. It is my previous job before I began teaching Academic Writing in the university.

Despite being away for more than 2 years - 2 years, 5 months and 12 (13, really - 2008 was a leap year!) days to be exact - I came back and felt right in my place. It is as if I had never left this place before.

It's quite scary, really, that one can physically leave a job but not really leave it in its entirety. Fortunately, I didn't stuff any skeletons in the work closets during my previous stint.

If you'd ask me, I'll say I fit right in. I'm very comfortable here and I feel I'm already in the deep end of things. I had quite a number of briefings this morning to re-acquaint myself with the stuff I have to do and I think I'm going to be up for it.

Little Cheer

There's been little to cheer about recently. So rather than rant and rave here, I numb myself watching TV.

It's better. Between trying to kill the earth by blogging about things and by watching TV, I think watching TV is better. After all, there are things that once said cannot be recalled.

Laundry's done. Time for it to go into the dryer.

Sick again

Caught whatever is going around. But because someone got it first and I have been drinking the herbal drinks that I've been boiling to help with someone's symptoms, I don't seem to be getting it as bad.

But it still feels bad. Sigh.

悲剧...

...女人: 空前绝后。

買內衣

有一天一位先生去幫他太太買內衣，因為他從來沒有幫他太太買過內衣，所以他不知道要買哪一種size！
跟店員扯了半天，店員只好拿水果來形容了！
店員：木瓜？！
先生：no！no！
店員：蘋果？！
先生：不不不！
店員：蓮霧？！
先生:再小一點！
店員：雞蛋？！
先生很高興的說：對！對！對！
當店員瞭解後轉身去拿內衣時，那位突然大叫：小姐等一下！是煎過的。

...后嗣: 前途无亮

父亲查看儿子英语课本,结果昏死
ｙｅｓ－爺死
ｎｉｃｅ－奶死
ｂｕｓ－爸死
ｍｏｕｔｈ－媽死
ｊｅｅｐｓ－姐死
ｇｉｒｌｓ－哥死
ｗａｓ－我死
kｉｓｓ－ 氣死！
ｄｏｅｓ － 都死！

...男人: 精益求精

老謝的醫院新開幕，老王決定去道賀。
踏進門，王先生就對護士小姐說：「我找謝...」
話未說完，護士小姐大叫說：「你早洩？有沒有搞錯？這兒是皮膚科...」

...人生: 回头是暗

心靜自然涼
國小二年丙班上自然課，老師問：「誰知道為什麼人死後身體會冷冰冰的？」
全班都沒人回答…
老師：「都沒人知道嗎？」
這時，教室後面有人說：「心靜自然涼…」

...夫妻: 同床异梦

妻子說：親愛的，我不要你到月台送我，因為我怕你難過，而且還要花二塊錢買。
丈夫笑著說：沒有關係，只花二塊錢就能把你送走，太值得了。

Some funny animation

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Don't watch this if you cannot laugh out loud!

You might get internal injuries from not laughing.

Awesome or what!

"Summer" - From Vivaldi's Four Seasons



This bayan (Russian accodion) player is Ukrain-born Alexander Hrustevich. And I'm blown away.

I wonder...

... if she was wearing a "brack blah" (Inside joke with my former students)

A Singaporean undergraduate was gang-raped last month while on an exchange programme in Hong Kong, Hong Kong newspaper Sing Tao Daily reported on Sunday. The Hong Kong police have arrested a man in connection with the crime, and are looking for two others who are believed to have been involved. The woman, 22, had gone alone to a bar in Lan Kwai Fong, an area in the Central district with many bars and restaurants, and had become drunk. Source: AsiaOne

I cannot be more amused by the report. Apparently, three Nepalese men invited her to a private party on a yacht and she went! On board, she was raped a total of six times! Got to hand it to the Nepalese man. So unpicky and so energetic down there. And a "OMG! How can you be so stupid" for Miss Sarong Party Girl.

... when employers are going to come to terms with the fact that human beings are not machines.

BOSSES in Singapore may be unaware that employees turning up for work when sick could be costing them as much as the 14 days annual paid leave given to staff. 'Presentee-ism' - turning up for work when too ill to do any - could result in hidden losses running to hundreds of millions of dollars to businesses and the national economy, a pioneering study done at Nanyang Business School (NBS) has shown.

[The] study estimated that for an employee below the age of 50 with an annual remuneration of $54,000 (base pay and all benefits), the loss of annual productivity due to presentee-ism is $2,002 for a man, or 13.5 days annually per employee, and $2,255 for a woman, or 15 days annually per employee. Source: AsiaOne

Even machines, like those machines that IBM provided to DBS and POSB decided that enough was enough and took at 7 hour break! Why do people go back to work when they are sick? The bigger problem is Singapore employers' insidious pay practices. A portion of our salaries are held hostage and paid to us in the form of "performance bonuses" if we do well. And if presence at work is a positive measure of my performace, then presentee-ism makes more sense than going on medical leave. After all, no one can fault me for being slower and less productive at work. Don't forget, I'm at work and that's what I am measured against.

We need a radical rethink of the 44.5 hour work week. Do we need to work so much? If I am on call even when I am off work, then surely, the hours that I am needed IN THE OFFICE should be reduced accordingly. HR practices are far from being enlightened and we have ourselves to blame. If we all work to schedule like pilots and air stewards and stewardesses, let's see what happens. But few people have the balls to make this happen.

... if we are using money to buy success

THE budget for the inaugural Youth Olympic Games (YOG) has surpassed original estimates of US$75 million ($104 million) by more than three times. The projected government spending for the 13-day Games in August will now be approximately $387 million.

[H}owever, that the benefits will still continue to outweigh the increased cost. Besides $260 million (or 70 per cent of the budget) worth of contracts that has been awarded to local companies, the YOG is also expected to attract about 40,000 foreign visitors, generating a $57 million boom in tourism receipts. Source: ST

I certainly hope so. Most Olympic cities go into recession right after the Olympics.

Directions

If we know where to go, we can ask for directions. Not all of us would do so, even if we are lost, but at least we have an idea where we are going.

What about for those who do not know where to go? Does not knowing where to go mean not knowing the directions?

What about simply not knowing the directions? Does that also mean one does not have a destination in mind?

Honestly?

Apple admits iPhones' signal bars give incorrect readings
Problem goes back to the earliest iPhone, the firm says. In many cases, phones displayed two more bars than they should have.

Look here, people. Apple is a fruit!

Singapore MRT vandal to appeal his sentence. Convicted Swiss vandal Oliver Fricker has filed an appeal against his sentence, his lawyer Derek Kang told Bloomberg News. The 32-year-old was convicted last month after pleading guilty to spray painting two carriages of an MRT train with his accomplice, Briton Lloyd Dane Alexander.

Eh, goondu! Clean your freaking ass and take the 3 lovely strokes like a man. Be thankful it is only 3 strokes. If I were the judge, I would have awarded you more than just three strands of the famed Singapore "kway teow" (cane).

A lorry with a crane on it had crashed into a 4.5m-high overhead bridge along Bukit Timah Road just before the turn into Sixth Avenue at about 10.30am. The Land Transport Authority (LTA) decided to remove a portion of the bridge due to safety concerns.

Ha! So bloody Singaporean! Rain only, cannot drive.

New Product!

 

More info.

I'm going green

Warning: This post in tongue-in-cheek.

I'm pledging to save the earth by helping it go green.

I resolve to eat only meat. This way I can help eradicate all the animals that are feeding on plants. When there are less animals to feed on plants, there will be more plants left over.

With more plants on Earth, it will go green.

I should now be eligible to scream in that Saving Gaia advertisement:
If I am eating meat, would you allow me?

And then I can look really motherly and ask:
If I were Mother Nature, would you let me save my plants?

Someone is jealous...

... that BHD got a get well video.

Ok, let me wish this someone a quick breaking free from his green eyed days.



Wow, looks like I am going green too. :)

Say a Little Prayer for You

BHD's got a little run in with green salad veggies.

Here's something to wish him a speedy recovery.

One can wait too long...

Just ask American John Isner and Frenchman Nicolas Mahut.

Both men resumed play at Court 18 today knotted at 59-59 in the fifth set of their first-round Wimbledon singles match, having obliterated every record for length and longevity long before they were forced off court by the setting sun for the second consecutive night.

The match continued on serve with no break points until the American hit a backhand passing shot past the Frenchman in the 138th game of the set to finish the contest in front of a packed crowd on Court 18.

The amazing final score read: 6-4 3-6 6-7(7) 7-6(3) 70-68.

I believe this match will be remembered for a long time.

* * *

We sat at a coffeeshop waiting for our menu to arrive. Two reminders from the drink stall assistants later, the cze-char assistant came and asked what we wanted.

A wait later, the menu arrived. We thumbed through the menu rather quickly and decided what we wanted. This time, we had to beckon two different assistants twice each and none of them had the time to come near the table to take our orders.

Finally, a third assistant came by. By then, we were more than 20 minutes into waiting to be served. We stood up and walked off as the guy asked if we wanted to eat.

"No. I waited so long I'm full already." I replied.

Honestly, the entire operations can go "fornicate with arachnids". The assistant apologised for being extremely shorthanded today and what not.

But we simply walked on, choosing not to reply. If there isn't a good thing to say, don't say it. At least not along Sam Leong Road, beside Desker Road.

* * *

Ticked off army guys two weeks ago over their botched armoured vehicle movements that left a whole bunch of cars backed up into the Kallang Leisure Mall carpark. Cars were stuck on the ramp and the queue snaked into the car park itself. Pity the poor sods behind who had to pay for parking charges as they were still stuck in the "paying area".

I am rather certain that the armoured vehicle drivers had not been properly briefed on public road convoy movements prior to the first dress National Day Parade rehearsal. I am also fairly certain that the army acted in its own accord, failing to rope in the Land Transport Authority and the Traffic Police to help in closing roads and ensuring no traffic snarls to facilitate the convoy's movement. I am deadsure that the fellas planning the parade did not read the planning and execution papers that their predecessors in 2000 and 2005 had written.

The low CEP kapitan had the cheek to tell me that the "concept for 2010 is different" and "cannot (be) compare(d) with 2000 and 2005" when I told him that he should have read the prior papers.

If anything, I was the chief note taker at all National Day Parade 2000 executive committee meetings and I know what needed to be done when you are moving out all the green coloured moving metal pieces to challenge North Korea. Ok, the NK part, I jest. Still?

When I told a retired air force lieutenant colonel about the event, she went ballistic. What nonsense, she proclaimed. "The concept will definitely be different but the underlying principles will be the same." How we agree!

So, after a good 30 minutes of being stuck in a jam not of our doing, we were finally allowed to drive out when the armoured vehicle convoy drivers were made to keep in their respective lanes and not hog the middle of a two lane one-way road.

A little planning and a well-executed staggered road closure would have avoided many ugly scenes. But then, the men in green just love to be screamed at. Just watch how well adored the drill sergeants and parade commanders are...

* * *

And there is another aspect where one can wait too long, but the time is not ripe yet.

Later.

Crap oh crap Euphemisms

I didn't write these but I'll reproduce what I read and cite my source.

"We believe that everyone who used to visit Bangkok and shopped at Centralworld should be sad due to his incident. Please keep the good feelings and wait for our better return." - Map, 2010.

"Thank you for all visitors which have a chance to visit after the violation incident from the riot of "red shirts" mob and they not satisfied the mainstays of "red shirts" announcing to revoke the political protest after the deployment of military from the Centre for the Resolution of the Emergency Situation (CRES), as the protestors "Red Shirts" didn't accept the solution of the mainstays and felt not satisfied as a result of the groups of protestots made a riot.

"Everyone who has a chance to visit Bangkok, if you are interested to know more about this incident, please search more through internet. If you have free time and chance to visit the incidents, please say hell (sic!) to those entrepreneurs who were affected from these incidents with good willingness and the map handbook "Siam Bangkok Map Tourist" shall be the guideline to lead you going to anywhere as wished." - Map, 2010

Reference:

Map, Siam Bangkok. (2010, June) 2(18)

Places damaged by fire

Bangkok Bank
Centre One PLaza
Government Savings Bank
Office of the Narcotic Control Board
Siam City Bank
Big C Headquarters
Central World
Krung Thai Bank
Mahatun Plaza Building
Siam Paragon
Siam Theatre
Kasikorn Bank
Tesco Lotus Express
Metropolitan Electricity Authority
Post Today News (Bangkok Post)
The Stock Exchange of Thailand
Thai TV 3
Tesco Lotus

No discount, no discount...

Recently, the Life Section of the Straits Times (Singapore daily) proclaimed Bangkok to be on sale.

Truth be told, the only things that were on sale were things that you wouldn't want to buy. Yellowed white shoes, size 5 socks going at 4 pairs for 100 baht, twin pack Heads-and-Shoulders shampoo for 69 baht (probably rescued from the burning shops).

Well, there were few things of quality on sale in Thailand. And after conversion, the sale price is about Singapore prices, or more. So why burn additional aircraft fuel to bring back stuff?

Oh, yes. There is something wrong with the sizing in the clothes the Thais sell. Perhaps the missizing was intentional, so their products can be written off as flawed or seconds. Can you believe that an L/XL folk needs a XXL? Hard to fathom but go to Silom and you'll see that it's true.

And 100 baht CK underwear anyone? If you can stand it bleed for as many washes you subject it to, then go ahead. I've learnt my lesson. Nothing less than the real McCoy for me!

Verdict: Nothing great unless you like antiques and are anorexic.

Where have all the flowers gone...?

Perhaps I should be more specific. Where have all the tomyam goong gone?

Gone were the traditional looking stalls manned by older Thai folks who cook a mean tomyam goong.

I only had two bowls in Thailand, one in the Platinum Shopping Centre (C)opposite where I stayed, and one in the Airport Departure Lounge (F). Both did not make the mark and I am honestly disappointed.

I need my fix at Old Airport Road soon.

Another thing I missed as good Phad Thai.

These days, street hawkers have pre-fried, pre-coloured, pre-flavoured rice noodles - they are really stained appalling pink - and when you order, the noodles are tossed in a hot skiller with some other ingredients and hey presto! You get your "fart Thai". Tastes really bad.

I missed my mango salad.

The weather was incredibly warm and the lack of crowds meant that if you were to buy food off the hawkers in the street, you risk getting stuff that is lying around there for quite some time already. If the local Thais won't buy it, then tourists had better not buy it too.

I also had a very lousy lunch at a restaurant serving Hong Kong tim sum near the Asok BTS station. While the tim sum buffet went at 159 baht ++ per head, I decided to go a la carte. It was bad. The only saving grace was the roasted duck slices that came with the noodles. The tim sum and noodles were oodles of evil. Trust me, a Hong Konger would probably prefer to eat his/her own socks than that meal!

Despite the misses, there were a few gems. I had a lovely coagulated blood soup from one of the backlane stalls in the Pratunam area.

I had some nice noodles at Damnernsaduak Floating Market. Yes, Uncle Anthony Bourdain went there when he filmed one of his travel/food shows. I also had a great coconut ice cream there and some excellent Thai pancakes.

On the same trip but prior to visiting the floating market, I also had some nice noodles at Maeklong Market. Bourdain had gone there too. And it is true that the market is set up alongside the railway tracks and when the train runs, market vendors rush to remove their wares, only to restitute them to the original position right after the train passed. The Maeklong Station is located just next to the canal. Amazing sights.

And then I freaked out eating Thai noodles for the rest of the trip, at least fish ball noodles!

Verdict: Culinary Misadventure

Smooth As Silk

Thai Airways lived up to its promise to its customers that it is "smooth as silk". Let me show you evidence of their great work.

TG Check-in at Changi Airport, Singapore

There is perhaps nothing more appalling than seeing a relief aid mission carting a billion trillion gazillion boxes of medicine and other relief items bound for Dhaka stuck in front of two open check-in counters (out of 7). Instead of deploying staff to clear the passenger check in and luggage check in, Thai chose to do the eye power exercise.

It gets worse. There is an Internet Check In counter, which had literally no queue because 99.99% of the TG customers cannot check in online in Singapore and there is a dedicated Royal Silk Class counter with no one in line, as the flight probably has at most 12 such passengers - the seating maximum on that A333 plane. This knocks two more counters out of commission.

That leaves over 200 check in passengers waiting to be cleared by 3 counter staff. And there are many other passengers trying their luck to get on this "full flight". These people should have been attended to at the ticketing counter, not the check in counter. Yet, the staff persisted, showing their traditional Thai patience - let me check, move off counter to talk with ticketing staff, get back, say something, repeat, and end with, "You need to go to the ticketing counter to check, Sir, and then come back here at 6.50 am to check if you are allowed on this flight.

There was an Indian family that was stuck at one counter for 30 minutes and counting! Then, one of the check in supervisors came out and said, I need you (the passengers) to move! Move to that counter, she told the passengers. As the passengers moved, the queues became evident. She's just moving one queue to another. People were miffed.

I need this counter to be cleared, she declared to the Dhaka staff. Yeah right, without assistance, there was no way a single staff was going to clear the lines fast enough. Can you clear these boxes? She asked the relief mission folks. No, these are for check in!

She got past me and I told her, "Open up the internet check in counter to deal with the queues! And for goodness sake, the Business class girl can take on individual customers!" This way, the Royal Silk (aka Business) class passengers will not have to wait for more than one passenger before s/he/it gets to check in.

The manager was also nowhere to be seen. Oh wait! She appears. The Indian woman seemed only too happy to play the conductor of this messy septet, not wishing to get her hands dirty at all.

All this while, I was standing in queue.

It was indeed smooth as silk. Nothing moved.

TG Baggage Handling at Suvarnabhumi Airport, Bangkok

The Service Level Agreement must have been "first bag on belt in 15 minutes" or so. Because that was all the passengers were getting, until a few Jurassic ages later.

Passengers stood rooted to the ground, their eyes darting in rapid movement, hoping to spot their luggage. No one fainted, so the darting of the eyes must have been smooth as silk too.

Damaged Luggage Repair

The hardcase I carried to Bangkok had a rubber tubing that sealed the two halves of the luggage as it shuts. The tubing is held in place in the luggage by its natural tension. However, when my luggage arrived, the rubber tubing was ripped out, not unlike an outie belly button. Damaged. The bag was also stained with a sticky red substance which I am not sure what it really was.

Made a luggage damage report and the agent acting for TG was called to repair the luggage in Bangkok, at my request.

The bag came back and the rubber tubing, which should have been changed, was sneakily super glued to the luggage. I bet my bottom dollar that when I take this bag on an extended flight to a place such as the US, the glue will freeze, crack and take the tubing along with it. Who do I claim against then? Or what if the glue stained my clothes or items in the baggage? What do I do?

The entire transaction was smooth as silk. Almost fly by night, if you ask me. Leave bag at Concierge, luggage guy picks up, leave TG claim report in exchange for repaired luggage at Concierge thereafter.

The entire recovery was smooth as silk. So was the "con" job.

I turn and changed face. TG inflight service

Can't help noticing that the TG stewardesses are young things with nary a line on their face.

But make a request and each and everyone I've seen so far can put the best Sichuan Mask Changing Master to shame.

"Ok, sir." She went.

She looked up and her face turned. That sinister stare, the underlying belligerence, the anger at being made to serve. It wasn't me who asked, but I could not help noticing, since I am typically quite alert during certain odd flights.

If I were to borrow the MasterCard advertisement tagline and amend it later, "Change face - seamless!"

All in all, TG provided a new interpretation of SAS to me. I was a first time customer on their international flight and would I fly them again?

Let me think about it.

Three Bowls of Pigs Trotters

Yes, sawasdee ka!

I'll be in Bangkok from 12 to 15 Jun.

I'll mostly be wearing navy blue shirts.

No, I'll be a good boy and start nothing there. :)

Till then.

Singapore Flyer Showdown

Two friends and I were waiting for our Singapore Flyer ride. We patiently gave way to a horde of progressively barbaric people on an organized trip. We did not mind letting them go up first; after all, the idea was for everyone to have a good time.

The last group of people from the organization, however, did not want to move forward for their ride despite the three of us giving them wide berth in the waiting area. We were hence asked to go ahead into the next arriving capsule.

And for some strange reason, the group behind us felt it was fine to just board the same capsule when they were beckoned on by the ushers. Common sense dictated that they wait for the next one.

Of course, they came on and made enough noise in a poorly noise-insulated cabin with bare floors, hard seats and single layer glass panels. And if the quality of their lives directly depended on the amount of noise they could make, then they are probably trying to live like gods. You get the point.

My friends and I were offered audio players which we hold to our ears if we wanted to know where to look and make sense of what we see. There is a reason why we needed to hold those players close to our ears; noise is not welcome in the capsule unless you are in search of a splitting headache after the 37 minute ride.

As the doors of the capsule closed, I already made my stand clear about the noise generated by the group: If I were in a different group, I would have waited for the next capsule. Isn't that why the group refused to go up earlier?

The noise abated for a while and soon the din reached ear splitting levels. The people were distributed across the capsule and as each group began to speak louder, the next group had to speak even louder to be heard. I was hearing absolutely nothing from the audio player despite it being turned to maximum volume and me nearly attempting a direct implantation of the device into my ear.

I have had enough.

So I placed the player down and said - loudly enough - "What's the point of the player? It's so noisy there is nothing I can listen! Whole bunch of *profession deleted* who cannot behave in public!"

Eerie, awkward silence ensued.

Great. I love it. I'm loving it indeed.

I will no longer suffer in silence. I shall no longer put up with nonsense. I love the new me.

As the ride went on, the group made some noise here and there but nothing at the levels as before. Logically, in a shared space, one has to be conscious of the people around them. We all give up something in a shared space. I lost an opportunity to speak with my friend from Hong Kong because of these intruders. We won't speak because we don't want to disturb the peace. But if we had a capsule to ourselves, we might just have the conversation.

Given the way most of the folks behaved after my outburst, it was pretty clear that they are aware they have gone overboard. A quick reflection - given their work, they are always asked to reflect on their actions - will tell them that they have invaded the personal space of outsiders in their midst.

As the ride went on, I turned around and spotted a older woman, probably coming 60s, gesturing to her colleagues in the capsule before ours (i.e. above us, as the flyer rotated on its centre). She was showing that she had to zip her mouth and then she raised her finger up her temple and showed screwing motions.

Ah, if that is not inviting another rebuke. So I told her, "Eh, you don't have to do that. What's wrong with being told off when you are overly noisy?"

She argued that she's calling the flyer management to ask if making noise is allowed in the capsule.

No, I didn't go ballistics. I just wondered if so many years in her job made her go nuts. What is it that is not in her culture that does not tell her that making that much noise and affecting other people is wrong?

I replied that some noise is fine but that amount of noise was plainly unacceptable. I reiterated that if they had wanted to make so much noise, they could have waited for the next capsule. (You do the math: There are 28 capsules and a ride is 37 minutes. In less than a couple of minutes, the group could give everyone instant deafness in a nutshell!)

She then said that she was on her first trip up the flyer and was very excited and her colleagues too. And now they have to ride in such silence and she felt very sorry for herself. She said that she feels sorry to be told off by a foreigner.

I told her it was my first trip too. And I am equally sorry that I had to tick them off this way because they simply went overboard.

And then the next stupider thing happened: One of her colleagues said, "You have the audio players and we don't have any. So how do we not make noise when you take all those players?"

Oh my god. If God made them think before they spoke, they would probably have looked just half as stupid. On our way in, we saw about 50 or so audio players at the entrance. We were asked if we wanted these players. Given that the group of folks were around 80 (max) and that most of the earlier 3 groups had not taken those players, these people up in the capsule would have had an opportunity to take a player if they had wanted.

Excitement or not, this was a lame attempt to salvage anything. If anything at all, I had more respect for those who were aware that they had gone overboard and generally kept quiet.

Old woman insisted that she will write to the management to ask if she can make noise. I told her to go ahead and write. You know, I have so little regard for her and her profession that I had in good mind to drop her minister an email and ask if her behaviour was becoming an employee of the state. But I won't do that; it is not in my interest to make her lose her job or my tax payer monies might be used to keep her alive thereafter.

I also reiterated that a reasonable noise level is acceptable and I won't complain about that. The ride went on later and the group did resume making some noise. However, they did watch themselves and policed the noise levels.

As a fellow Singaporean, I am appalled that we have fallen that far on social graces. Have we forgotten that we are not the centre of the universe? Have we disregarded that in our need for gratification, there are others who are seeking the same and our actions might have deprived others of it?

I may not have done a great job here myself but on hindsight, an outburst was still the best decision; I was certainly not in the mood for a protracted quarrel, which I was fairly certain the outcome of any request since among them was this quarrelsome old lady who is also impervious to reason.

What was the woman thinking when she made those gestures? Haven't we been guilty too of critising the Mainland Chinese for their uncouth, noise-making, and public peace disrupting behaviour but yet do the same in private?

Who are we to throw stones when we live in the same glasshouse? Who are we to tie the proverbial witches to the stakes for stoning and burning when many of us are witches too, except we are closeted?

How is loud noise in an enclosed space an acceptable behaviour when we, flyer visitors, are offered audio players that played only into our ears and not blasted through a public sound system? How is loud noise acceptable when most of members in that group will tell their charges to shut up (or words to that effect) if the noise levels get too high, and make that noise in an open room?

And how is it that old folks Ms Contrarian's age have forgotten basic manners, courtesy, consideration and etiquette? Was she not taught?

On my way out, I went to the ticketing counter and provided feedback on the ride can be made better through sound proofing, off-peak crowd management (especially relating to organizational outings) and capsule design. Oh, and I hope Ms Contrarian writes in and gets a reply to tell her that "for the comfort and pleasure of all riders in the capsule, people should keep their volume down."

To end, I'm going to borrow BHD's closing:
Life is short: Don't waste 37 minutes of it riding the Singapore Flyer.

Some are born...

Terribly lucky?

HAD his grandmother not been visiting over Christmas, a 12-year-old boy's family might not have known that their Indonesian maid was sexually abusing him.

As grandma walked past the maid's room, which had its lights on and its door open, she was stunned to see the boy naked from the waist down and the maid performing oral sex on him.

The 27-year-old maid was yesterday convicted and now faces up to 10 years' jail when she is sentenced on June 2. Source.

Sometimes, I do not know how to react when I read such news. How is that sexual abuse?

For that matter, when two consenting teenagers decide to have sex, what's wrong? I mean, as long as the baby - if any comes along - are provided for, what's the big deal?

We wait till people are legally married and they don't want no children anymore. Then we dangle carrots in front of them to make them have babies. Why not let these baby production machines give birth? I'd gladly adopt a baby or two...

The Li'l Young Hypocrite

While I was waiting my turn at the clinic yesterday, a little boy of about 5 was also there. His sister was running a fever and was brought there by the grandmother. Since both siblings were under her care, he went along.

Not long after, both their parents arrived at the clinic.

His behaviour reminded me so much of many of the seasoned hypocrites I see at work. That fake smile, that calculativeness in pitting grandmother and mother at odds when his mother asked him to do something that the grandmother didn't.

That fake smile. That fully exposed frontal teethy smile with those conniving, calculative eyes... The last I've seen such a display was during my basic military training, when one of the recruits tried to wiggle his way out by acting dumb and moronic. And yet, this is a 5 year old boy.

I still get shudders when I think about him.

$2 noodles plus extra ingredients

I couldn't help but laugh when I read this:

Former hawker pleads guilty for rash act

I would have loved to write you a summary but the matter-of-fact reporting left nothing for me to remove.

SINGAPORE: A former hawker pleaded guilty in the Subordinate Court on Thursday morning for a rash act which severed the left thumb of a customer after the pair argued over a $2 bowl of noodles.

66-year-old Sim Yong Ha had picked up a 30-cm long chopper after patron Chan Seng Chai grabbed a plastic chair.

When Mr Chan swung the chair at him, Sim then used the chopper to block the chair.

The chopper hit Mr Chan's left hand and severed the 57-year-old retiree's thumb.

Mr Chan's wife had earlier complained about Sim's behaviour.

After she made numerous requests, the former hawker told her not to be so demanding because his noodles only cost $2.

Mr Chan then confronted Sim about these comments and the dispute resulted.

My take?

If you think your $2 noodles are too spartan, just add your own thumbs into the noodles. Thereafter, lick the sauce off. No need to go all the way to have the thumb chopped off to add to the noodles and then reattach it in the hospital later.

Actually, Mr Chan should be very happy. His wife's noodles are no longer $2, since the costs of reattching his thumb must have made those noodles more expensive than a bowl of king lobster and green lipped whole abalone egg noodles in top grade scallop sauce.


Latest updates from the Courts: 7 Jun

The Thumb is Worth $10000!

How's that for really expensive noodles?

Sick

Viral infection after nearly half a year of being well.

Never felt quite that bad... and all my major joints and muscles are aching.

Hate that feeling.

Shooting the breeze

So many things, so little time, so few brain cells, so limited memory. So this will be a so-so entry with many random ramblings haphazardly pieced together.

Think of it as a mental patchwork blanket.

Comic reactions to Greek tragedy. Hey, the fat Greeks are paying the price for fattening up. So why is everyone getting diarrhoea?

Rain. Dense but miniscule lines of water falling from the sky. Just looked out of the window.

Scab. Nicely formed on the head wound. Doctor advised against peeling it off prematurely. In fact, no peeling allowed. Let it drop off normally.

Lethargy. There is work but no interest to work. Money is there but no interest to even earn it.

Waiting. I don't even know for what.

Television programmes. Have some files in the hard disk but not in the Sofa-Burbank mood yet.

Cooking. The simpler the better. The weather is too hot for staying prolonged periods in the kitchen.

Coldness. Ice water tastes better these days because of the unbearable heat.

Shares. A prolonged slow bleed. Nothing seems to be able to staunch the bleed. Yet there are people who believe that a bloodied bull is still a bull.

Housing. Prices sky high. People still flocking showrooms and buying, overstretching themselves. Maybe some of them swallowed a fly. Maybe they'll die.

Cars. Prices not that high. People still fleeing showrooms and resisting, denying themselves. Maybe some of them should swallow a fly. The prices are at the new rock bottom. With the new COE cuts, with further cuts in July, there is no way but up for car prices. And by the time the silly car buyers realise that, COE prices will shoot through the roof again.

Chaos. My greatest fear is there is NOT ENOUGH chaos. Abhisit will dissolve Thai Parliament in September. Why so long? Haven't he realised that he might be sublimated by then? UK elections are almost a done deal. Labour exit widely expected. Bigoted woman, eh? Greece violence. So happy tree friend.

Crazy. Nothing wrong with being crazy. Really. At this rate, against what standard do we measure normal?

Writing Proofs

I will be teaching a course in graph theory to some secondary school kids in about three weeks and as I prepared the course materials, one key point stuck out: Students need to write proofs.

Writing proofs is inevitable in dealing with most mathematics. Many theorems come with their most commonly used proof or proofs. The Pythagoras' Theorem, for instance, can be proven over a hundred ways.

In comparison, some problem solving questions require a proof as a solution but there are unfortunately no standard proofs that the instructor can rely on or turn to.

Particularly in graph theory, many questions require solutions that are highly demanding. It is not enough to say that the answer is "n". Often, you have to show why all other answers other than "n" are not acceptable, even though they satisfy the general conditions of the question.

In this regard, constructing a logically water-tight proof is difficult because many of us do not use contradictions and exhaustion as strategies, unless we are involved in certain types of work. It would not be suitable for me to exclaim the beauty and prowess of such proof techniques as I don't want to be guilty of playing up my areas of interest and "semi-expertise" but having a good grasp of the techniques can help solve a lot of problems quite elegantly.

The proof by contradiction is often elusive and hard to figure out. One needs to know which condition is likely to undergo "reductio ad absurdum". One common claim that relies on the proof by contradiction is "square root 2 cannot be expressed as a fraction with whole number numerators and denominators." Intuitively, this looks simple and the claim seems more like an axiom than something to be proven. However, it is not axiomatic and how do we construct a proof to validate our intuition? Interested readers can click on the word proof to see a proof by contradiction of that claim.

Proof by exhaustion is something elementary learners of mathematics used to resort to when they first come across claims such as "there is no largest integer." Frequently, a child who has learnt concepts such as a million, a billion, a trillion, and so on will attempt things like "a trillion trillion trillion" and when you tell them, "how about you add one?" they will quickly come to terms that exhaustion is plain exhausting. And frequently, exhaustion does not prove anything. Before long, proof by exhaustion becomes an antiquated technique to these learners of mathematics, until they are forced to face their inner demons again.

In graph theory, in particular, the need to establish uniqueness in the solution often means that the other competing answers must be rendered inadmissible. While it is probably not sensible to show a full graph theory question to elicit thoughts on how to construct answers that rely on the proof by exhaustion, folks who have a propensity for factorization might delight in seeing how the proof by exhaustion is daintly applied in this example: If n is an integer, then (n^7 - n) is a multiple of 7.

The study of mathematics can often lead its learners to develop logical thought processes. Writing proofs is one of the tools that play an important role in developing a person's logical acuity. As with all pursuits, there is no gain until one gets their hands dirty and begin practicing.

I hope my students will appreciate the package that I'm putting together for them. After all, whoever said learning was always easy?

Labour Day

It was more a Laborious Day than it was Labour Day.

I started off the day making morning beverages when I spilled Milo on the floor. I took a cloth, bent down, and wiped the powder off the kitchen floor tiles. As I got up, my head smashed right against the corner of the kitchen cabinet door and I literally understood first hand the meaning of "where stars are born."

I immediately applied pressure to the impact area and then I closed the cabinet door. "Damn it," I cursed silently. It was really really painful. Although the skull is a rather thick piece of bone, the scalp had many nerve endings and, if there were any open wounds, prone to bleeding.

As luck would have it, the wound began to bleed. Oh my Guanyin Niangniang, as Aunty Lucy would say. I pressed kitchen towels against the wound as it bled, hoping that I could stop the blood. Meanwhile, I ransacked my rather badly stocked first aid box for something to clean the wound.

No antiseptic solution. No Burnol. No... well, it's no everything useful basically. I found a betamethasone. It's a steriod and these don't go with open wounds generally. Being Labour Day, my family doctor is not open for business. I can't go there to get help.

I won't want to go round looking for a doctor who is open today. In fact, I wasn't even sure I was interested to find one. I cancelled my morning appointments and got Victor to drive me to the hospital.

Because of the nature of the injury, the nurse taking temperature at the entrance registered for me at the Accident and Emergency Department at Changi Hospital.

After a rather long wait, and after turning to a few clean sides of a new piece of kitchen towel to staunch the bleeding. It is NOT a serious bleed, but it is irritating enough to have blood oozing out non-stop.

By the time I got triaged, it was almost one and a half hour after I got cut. The bleeding, the nurse said, has stopped. But the doctor will get me some antiseptic cream and have my wound cleaned.

Waited for my turn after triage and saw the doctor. A locum at the A&E, the guy was young and very patiently impatient. Said a lot of things I already knew but I wasn't too bothered. After all, as long as he got the wound cleaned and then prescribe me some antiseptic cream.

Then if there were any justice, I didn't know it existed. The A&E only carried tetracycline based antiseptic creams. I was allergic to the 4-ringed antibiotic. So I could only have my wound cleaned but I can't get any antiseptic cream for it. I was prescribed only a cleaning solution to cleanse the wound. (In fact, the doctor prescribed the tetracycline cream, only to have me stop him!)

After the ordeal at A&E, we left as the wondrous emergency room filled up so suddenly.

And my day has barely begun.

Are the stars lining up...?

Goldman Sachs' scandal and run in with the SEC

Greece's debt downgraded to junk status by Standard & Poor

China's harshest tightening measures yet to curb property speculation

US is braying for the Chinese to allow the Yuan to appreciate but Grandpa Hu and Grandpa Wen are still in their Sichua Earthquake mode - "you must hold on. Grandpa Wen is here and we will save you. Hold on to my hands."

The Thais are gearing up for a battle. The Thai Monarch doesn't seem to be holding up that well.

Myanmar and Cambodia are holding polls soon.

The sharemarket is seeking a clear direction. Singapore investors seeming bearishly bullish. Odd but true.

At this rate, are we getting back to 2008 not long after we got out of the same mess?

I hope Grandpa Wen will now soon let go of his vice like grip on the Yuan. I've got some and I don't mind making a little profit.

If the army and the police fight the Red Shirts, and the Yellow Shirts join in the fight, what colour shirt will the Thais end up wearing? Rainbow coloured shirts? Hm...?

Singapore housing prices have risen so much I'm effectively priced out of the market.

Singaporeans and many people around the world are hoarding property like the new oil.

Interest rates are at an unbelievable low.

People are over-stretched on many fronts.

Salaries are NOT increasing.

Share markets are volatile and a week's gains is not quite enough to cover a day's losses.

Things are getting way too expensive and inflation is threatening to empty our wallets.

To quote Barbarella Posh Beckham, "In April, May, and June, everything is coming up roses."

Yeah, right. I do hope those bloody red rose petals are just covered with the purest of colouring agents - blood.

Oh well, maybe I should just literally scratch any itch rather than make serious moves into any investments now.

Aging and Revealing the Inner Ah Beng

The full lyrics are reproduced here. Maybe I should provide an English equivalent for readers who do not understand my Chinese dialect.

Don't accuse me of being mushy - I'd say that only Taiwanese song writers are capable of such mush. And - without sounding like a male chauvinistic pig - I think such devoted women are extinct already. They can probably be found only in Taiwanese serials. :)

家后
作词：郑进一/陈维祥 作曲：郑进一 编曲：张乃仁

有一日咱若老 (When we become old one day)
找无人甲咱有孝 (And there isn't anyone to accompany us)
我会陪你坐惦椅寮 (I will sit with you at the settees)
听你讲少年的时袸你有外贤 (And listen to your stories of your valiant youth)
食好食歹 无计较 (Whether I get good food or not does not matter)
怨天怨地 嘛袜晓 (I also won't blame the gods for anything)
你的手 我会甲你牵条条 (Your hands, I will hold them tightly in mine)
因为我是你的家后 (Because I am the one at the back of your house [aka wife])

阮将青春嫁乎恁兜 (I gave my youth to your family when I married you)
阮对少年随你随甲老 (I shall stay devoted to you till we both turn old)
人情世事己经看透透 (I've learnt let go and not sweat the small stuff)
有啥人比你卡重要 (Because nothing is more important than you)
阮的一生献乎恁兜 (I have devoted my entire life to your family)
才知幸福是吵吵闹闹 (I've realised bliss lies in the nagging and the noise)
等待返去的时袸若到 (When it is time for us to go back)

我会让你先走 (I will let you go first)
因为我会不甘 (Because I am reluctant)
放你 为我目屎流 (To let you shed tears for me)

有一日咱若老 (When we become old one day)
有媳妇子儿有孝 (And we have dutiful sons and daughters in law)
你若无聊 拿咱的相片 (If you are bored, we can take out our pictures)
看卡早结婚的时袸 你有外缘投 (And see how smart you looked when we got married)
穿好穿歹 无计较 (Whether I get good clothes to wear or not, I'm not particular)
怪东怪西 嘛袜晓 (I will also not blame others for anything)
你的心 我会永远记条条 (I will forever remember your love for me)
因为我是你的家后 (Because I am the one at the back of your house [aka wife])

阮将青春嫁乎恁兜 (I gave my youth to your family when I married you)
阮对少年随你随甲老 (I shall stay devoted to you till we both turn old)
人情世事己经看透透 (I've learnt let go and not sweat the small stuff)
有啥人比你卡重要 (Because nothing is more important than you)
阮的一生献乎恁兜 (I have devoted my entire life to your family)
才知幸福是吵吵闹闹 (I've realised bliss lies in the nagging and the noise)
等待返去的时袸若到 (When it is time for us to go back)

你着让我先走 (You have to let me go first)
因为我吗不甘 (Because I'm also reluctant)
看你 为我目屎流 (To see you shed tears for me)

The beauty of the language and the skills of the song writer is rather amazing. If one were able to appreciate the language, the intention was for both husband and wife to die at the same time, so each is spared the heartbreak.

Nice song, I'd say.

2012 with The Probligo

This is an IMAGINARY dialogue that The Probligo (P) and Teflonman (T) might have on Armeggedon if we ever met up.

This blogpost also arose out of P's offering Taupo in place of Rapehu and his waiting for the Cook Strait tremblor.

Innocent bloggers have not been harmed in the course of writing this blogpost.

In some cold, windy coastal area in New Zealand (assuming not everywhere is like that)

T: That outcrop seems like a nice place to picnic today.

P: Hm...

Both men walk towards the rock jutting out to the Pacific Ocean. The sky is clear but a fine mist of the Pacific's spray lingers in the air. The briny smell reminds both men how close to the ocean they are. The sun is partially hidden behind some clouds, the winds threatening to blow away any word uttered.

P: You know, it is a stupid idea to sit here. What if the rock fractured off the rest and fell into the sea?

T: Then where would you prefer to sit?

P: Let's sit here.

T rolled his eyes for P's unnecessary outburst. P mutters under his breath, T overhears P saying we should have gotten the sick trio of Ol' Whig, Starsplash and TF to join us there.

T: Tell me more about your vision of the Cook Strait earthquake.

T takes a big bite of his sandwich, hoping that he wouldn't have to respond for as long as he could chew and keep the food in his mouth.

P: It comes. Booms...

T thought he heard "Boomz" and nearly spat out his food.

P: (contined) "cross fault." Runs between the tail of the Main Alpine Fault (the Southern Alps in effect) and the Wairarapa Fault.

T: Mm hm...

P: Last big one in 1851 or thereabouts. Probably 8+ Richter.

T thought he heard "loved the 3 guys to be here" but he wasn't too sure.

P: (continued) virtually the whole of Wellington would go.

T swallowed his food. He knew he'd better say something or P is going to turn his fire from the 3 missing men to him and he didn't think that a face-first pilgrimage to the jagged rocks below this outcrop would be a welcome traditional Maori welcome.

T: Tsunami?

T wasn't sure if P was listening but felt that utterance was courtesy enough. For now. Before long, T was certain P was in his own fantasy world.

P: Early afternoon on a Tuesday would be fine - Parliament in full cry - would solve a lot of political problems...

P takes a big bite into his sandwich the same time T turned to look at him and asked cheekily.

T: The 3 men...?

P feigned ignorance.

P: Oh, nice and crispy lettuce and cucumbers! You were saying?

T: (Damn it, wily old fox!) I mean, there'd be volcanic eruptions?

P looked far into the horizon as if someone is going to walk out from where the skies meet the waters. He chomped on his food pensively and thought. T wasn't sure if P wasn't deeply thinking. P finally swallowed his mouthful.

P: Probably if the plates were coordinated... Booms. They go off one by one.

T: And tsunamis too?

P: Perhaps.

T: But won't they cancel each other out?

P: Maybe volcanoes first. Then tsunami.

T: Volcanic ash columns and ash plumes followed by vapourisation of giant tidal waves.

P: We'll be steamed alive...

T: In a sulphurous pit no less.

P: Why'd think it's called Armeggedon?

T and P took another bite from their sandwich. Both men chewed in silence.

T: Where is a good place to begin all these carnage?

P: Anywhere is fine. Maybe America.

T: Why not Australia? Starts with A too, you know.

P: Great idea. And then what role is Singapore going to play?

T: We'll provide water sterilization tablets. You've got more cows than we have people, damn it.

P: You're really good at cussing, yah?

T: Yah. So, you want them tablets? Can help you purify the water and avoid diarrhoea.

P: I'm not sure... Ok. Save a pellet for me. Better store enough to last a long time.

T: I'll see what I can do.

Each takes another bite into the sandwich. T is out of sandwich, while P has a small piece of crust left.

T: You guys make small sandwiches.

P: Really?

T: I'm out. You've got another? I'm still hungry.

P: Maybe. Let's check the basket...

P rummages through the picnic basket and finds no more sandwiches.

P: Sorry. I think we ran out of cheese this morning. So there isn't more sandwiches.

T: What? Then what about bread?

P: There's a loaf at home.

T: (Muttering) If that isn't impetus enough to push you off...

P: Want an apple?

T: Ok.

P: Here.

T: Windfall?

P: How'd you guess?

T: It's all brown.

P: Oops. Wine?

T: I don't drink.

P: It's coming the end of the world anyway. Get drunk.

T: Maybe.

T takes out his water bottle and took a swig.

T: Water tastes better than wine.

P: So what are your plans after our imagined 2012?

T: You know, the plans never changed.

P: What are you going to do tonight?

T: The same thing we do every night, Pinky — try to take over the world!

P: Ah, but then you'd have your term cut short.

T: True. Never stopped Obama.

P: Don't get me started on America.

T: Why not? Say, what's that.... Is that the bottom of your end of the Pacific Ocean? The water's retreated!

P: Look! I parted the sea with my brain power.

A column of water 250 meters high is approaching the rock outcrop really fast.

T: Good try, P. Time to get out of the tsunami simulator.

Both men walked out of the Science Centre.

T: I'm hungry.

P: Me too. Let's fly to Houston for lunch.

T: What? Fly to Houston? TF will be there but will there be lunch?

P: There better be. Or we'll eat him... Perhaps not. Not without the epilator.

T: You have an ax to grind with TF?

P: No. Yes. No. Yes....

T: I get it. Let's just eat something here. It says "Houston Dog."

P: Do you eat dog?

T: Yeah.

P: Real dogs?

T: Yes.

P: Real dogs really?

T: Yes yeah yessy.

P: Ew...

T: There.

T passed a Houston Dog to P, who took a bite. T watched as P as he ate his hotdog bun.

T: Are you familiar with the Chinese saying, "Hanging a goat's head but selling dog meat?"

P: Maybe. Why?

T: How does canine taste?