Tag board story series 1
| nate: hey, mitch! come look at this! |
| mitch: look at what? |
| nate: I'm writing in this little box thing here, and it's showing up on some website! |
| mitch: damn, nate. It's like magic |
| nate: suuuureeee is.... |
| mitch: I'm gonna go show it off to some other frens |
| nate: good idea.... bob's probabl;y gonna chuck a fit when he sees this |
| mitch: who the hell is bob? |
| nate: you don't know bob? bob married your cousin delilah! remember him? had this birthmark on his butt the shape of a toyota hilux |
| bob: Darn, Nate. Now you dunnit. Telling the whole word about me birthmark |
| Delilah:: Hey Bob... What u doing there? Goodness gracious me! Why is this devil of a box telling everyone about your birthmark up your arse? *Faint* |
| bob: don't know darn it. Don't even know how nate found out in the first place. Oh well, at least he didn't say anything about the bed-wetting. ...oh crap |
| mitch: to delilah: you are my cousin? |
| delilah: well....actually we're not. You are an illegitimate child I had with Nate a long time ago. |
| bob: I'm going to kill Nate. Nate, when I get my hands on you, you are a dead man! |
| sillyfuddy: *lol* you must have been dam bored la!!! haha...arne't u suppose to b swamped with work or sht?! haha.. |
| bob: bored? NO! that guy slept with my wife and had a kid with her!! No work is more important than killing him right now |
| delilah: who is this sillyfuddy trying to defend you, nate? Did you sleep with her too? |
| nate: ummmm......would bob kill me if I said yes? |
| delilah: You mean THAT sillyfuddy? Isn't she the one who sleeps with our Mitch on Tuesdays??! You're a sick bastard!! I'm never gonna see you again! |
mitch: Gasp!  Daddy, what have you been doing behind my back? No wonder I only get to see sillyfuddy only on Tuesdays!! |
| bob: don't matter who else you slept with nate. Gonna kill you anyway and it aint gonna be pretty |
sillyfuddy: Please Bob.... please don't... remember Paris 5 years ago?  |
| nate: Mitch, you called me daddy. You've never called me that before. I'm so touched, I think I'm going to cry. |
| the real sillyfuddy: to the fake sillyfuddy: dont go ard usuign my nick. get a nick of yer own for cryin out loud. geez. dont get me involved in this cuz i dont know ALL of you. DUCKSHOE! FIX THIS! NOW! |
| mitch: to sillyfuddy: Don't you know me? Doesn't Tuesdays mean anything? |
| the real sillyfuddy: no i DON'T know you. Even if I do, you are not supposed to be telling your father, your mother and other ding dongs about us |
| nate: crap mitch! i think there are two sillyfuddys! one real one and a counterfeit one! Which one did you sleep with???? I think I may have gotten the fembot one, I've always been wondering about those wires.... |
| mitch: I dunno, Dad. The sillyfuddy I slept with seems a bit plasticky in front..... |
| bob: mitch, I remember that plastic. It was the breast implants. |
| delilah: How did you know that sillyfuddy has breast implants, huh? Bob? |
| delilah: And what's this rambling about Paris??! Bob, you've got a lot of explaining to do!!! |
| bob: Sillyfuddy! You promised! You promised not to leak our story about Paris! How could you? |
| Sillyfuddy: I didn't want to Bob, but you left me no choice. You see, Delilah, Bob and I had a baby... and she's been asking about her daddy for so long now... |
| Bob: But I've been giving me money to help you support Carol all this while. Oops... did I just say Carol? |
| sillyfuddy: I'm sorry Bob. I know I shouldn't have but I'm been so mixed up lately, what with one of my implants leaking and the doctor saying I've got AIDS.....Oops! Shouldn't have said that. |
| carol: mommy, what's AIDS? and when is daddy going to come back from the war? |
| THE REAL CAROL: excuse me! please stop all this nonsense at once! |
| THE REAL MITCH: Yes, I agree with you Carol. Why don't you just ahead and tell everyone the truth and end this nonsense once and for all! |
| Nate: Sillyfuddy! I can't believe that you're such a loose person~! |
| THE REAL CAROL: Mother, what's going on????! |
| THE REAL CAROL: I'm scared |
| THE REAL MITCH: It is a bit too late too be scared now....after all you have done! |
| THE REAL CAROL: What on earth is happening here? I want my mummy! |
| sillyfuddy: Come on, Mitch. You've already got me for Tuesdays. Isn't that enough? Leave Carol and me alone. We have other things to worry about. |
| Carol: Uncle Duckshoe, where are you? Mummy seems to be getting mad. She looks like she could faint anytime soon. Come help her, pleaseeee........ |
| Bob: Sillyfuddy - WHO'S DUCKSHOE? |
Duckshoe: None of your business, Bob. Carol, let's go see your mummy  |
| the real slim shady: hey, i patented using "the real" infront of my name ok. What's all this plagiarism? that's not cool. |
| sillyfuddy: duckshoe, my saviour, my lover, my life's desire. |
the fake slim shady: Yeah right. What makes you so sure that you're the real and i'm the fake? Can't it be the other way around? I'm real as real can be!  |
| sillyfuddy: Just to clear the air, the two slim shadys are my obnoxious twin brothers. Don't even begin to think that I slept with them |
| delilah: Finally managed to wrestle the comp from Bob. WHAT??! Bob, no wonder you always speak of Paris with so much nostalgia! No wonder you make unexplained 'donations' to someone's account all the time. Humph... I'm filing for divorce! |
| carol: mummy, what's a divorce? |
| sillyfuddy: Carol, a divorce is what happens when two married people decide to go their separate ways. Sometimes it's for the better. |
| carol: Oh, is that what happened to you and daddy when he left for the war? I miss him sooo much. Uncle duckshoe, can you not divorce wif mummy? Please don't leave me and mummy alone... |
epilogue:
Mitch/ real mitch - due to the uproar, stopped seeing sillyfuddy on tuesdays. Now sees her on Wednesdays. Occasionally wonders if anyone is filling the vacated Tuesday slot.
Nate - successfully survives several murder attempts by Bob. flees the country to Thailand for major reconstructive surgery. Returns unrecognisable to fill the Tuesday slot.
Delilah - divorces Bob and claims child support for Mitch. Never mind that she doesn't take care of Mitch, or that Mitch is not Bob's son, or that Mitch is 39 years old.
Bob - Divorced from Delilah and her cooking, Bob loses 250 pounds over the next 4 years. Spends 6 days a week walking around with a shotgun looking for Nate. On Fridays, however.....
Sillyfuddy /real Sillyfuddy - pretty busy on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Learnt valuable lesson about how never to post on a tag-board without reading it first.
Real/fake slim shady - who cares?
Carol/real Carol - grows up really screwed up
duckshoe - doesn't learn lesson, refreshes tag-board.
Have an alternative epilogue? Leave a comment.
The tag-board story so far......
The events unfolding in the experimental community wiki-theatre that is my tagboard are getting quite confusing. And it is a little hard to contribute without reading all the other posts firsts. Not anymore, to get everyone up to speed, I have summarised the story so far in this simple to understand diagram:
Improbable Research
A Study of the Intrinsic Propertorial Dissimilarities Between Malus Pumila and Citrus Sinesisby Assoc Prof Duck I. Shoe, PHD, ALI, MBH, STD(EEW), AIDS, KILLS
Abstract
Research in this specific domain of knowledge thus far has been limited to the most shallow, the most visceral and the most obvious. Not that academia has not tried to pursue such analysis, but rather society has - for no good reason - frowned upon the practice. Sponsors would not grant funds, universities dared not approve such radical study and even the everyday joe on the street has frequently spoken against it: "Don't compare Malus Pumila with Citrus Sinesis", they say. Or rather: "Don't compare apples with oranges."
I, Assoc Prof Duck I. Shoe, PHD, ALI, MBH, STD(EEW), AIDS, KILLS, say: Why not?
The following paper will present an in-depth never before performed analysis to the true differences between the properties of apples and oranges under a wide range of tests. The results, it is hoped, will give us a better understanding of the two common fruit (or is it fruits) and no doubt, humanity as a whole.
Apples vs Oranges: What is currently known
Our previous scant knowledge on this subject is summarised in the following table, henceforth known as Table 1.0 .
|
| APPLES | ORANGES |
| Colour | Typically red or green | Orange |
| Size | Medium | About the size of apples |
| Taste good as juice | Yes | Yes |
| Taste good as pie | Yes | No |
| Safe to eat with dentures | Risky | Yes |
| Squirt factor | Low | High-ish |
| One a day
. | Keeps doctor away | Gives you the daily recommended dosage of Vitamin C |
| Viable replacement for cricket ball | No, lack of bounciness | Ok |
| Viable replacement for hockey ball | No, lack of rolliness | Ok |
| If hit on head by.. | Major ouch! | Ouch less |
| Contribution to history | Hit Newton on head | Prevented scurvy |
As you can see, only their very basic nature is known. We have not even begun to scratch the surface of understanding. The following experiments, therefore, will do just that.
Experiment 1: The taste testMethod: Each fruit is exposed to eight continuous hours of Celine Dion music and reactions observed.
Results: The apple stayed more or less still throughout although I detected distinct movement away from the radio when "My Heart Will Go On" started. Otherwise, the apple generally tolerated the music and emerged unchanged at the end. The orange turned horribly sour.
Conclusion: Oranges have better taste.
Experiment 2: The dog testMethod: Each fruit is tossed in presence of a labrador retriever named Buddy.
Results: Buddy went and got 'em and brought them back. When both fruit were tossed simultaneously, Buddy was random in which fruit he would fetch first. Sometimes Buddy would go get 'em but not bring 'em back. Other times Buddy would retrieve something nobody threw, like a tennis ball or a rotting squirrel. These results were removed from the sample.
Conclusion: Dogs can't tell the difference between apples and oranges.
Experiment 3: The math testMethod: A primary school student is given 10 apples and 10 oranges and instructed to use them as an aid in doing math homework.
Results:
5 apples + 5 apples = 10 apples, 7 apples - 2 apples = 5 apples.
10 oranges - 8 oranges = 2 oranges, 1 orange + 1 orange = 2 oranges.
3 apples + 2 oranges = 5 fruit, 3 apples - 2 oranges = 3 apples and -2 oranges.
Conclusion: Primary school math is not terribly difficult. Apples and oranges obey the laws of addition and subtraction within their own species. When the two fruit species are mixed, they no longer obey the laws of subtraction.
Experiment 4: The water testMethod: Each fruit dropped in a pail of water and buoyancy properties observed.
Results: The apple did not sink. The orange did not sink.
Conclusion: Both fruit float.
Experiment 5: The acid testMethod: Juice is extracted from each fruit. This juice is then mixed in equal parts with one acid solution and one alkaline solution. The mixtures are then incubated in a 37 degree oven for 3 days. The four mixtures are then titrated on to a petri dish each and a few drops of iodine added. Results observed.
Results: They all look like fruit juice with some iodine on it.
Conclusion: This experiment was a waste of time.
Final ConclusionApples and oranges are different in some ways and similar in others.What is an academic paper without a little bit of latin? Apples ergo are fortiter edito sum non-similar erdatum vice boca to oranges et al in vaniam. However, apples are - in varniam secce suaviter - cognitively non-differentiated in vitro from oranges in other ways et cetera.
Looking back 25 years
A little project I commenced recently in conjunction with the silver anniversary of the lives of me and my friends: A year-by-year look back at every year of our existence.
This post will serve as the index and contain every year as they are written. It will be permanently linked from the links thing in the sidebar.
The years:
1980,
1981,
1982 ....
What happens when I'm lazy
Your what is open when???
Is that a foul?
Bringing a whole new meaning to High five! LOW FIVE!
What a great slogan!
World's cheapest hands free kit
Any contraband there?
I didn't do it! It was, it was...... the dog!
Would you like fries with that?
Good tip
Isn't that a bit harsh?
"..to speak to the operator, please press *0, to repeat the menu, please press *91...".
First name Stu... last name what????
A great free gift!
is this the end?
Serious one for a change:
I'm not one to be a soothsayer, a bringer of bad news or one of those end of all creation fanatics, but it has since come to my attention the unbelievable string of guesses a certain St Malachy got right.
St Malachy was born in Ireland in 1094 and some time during hsi life, he went into a trance - during which he had one heck of a dream. He dreamt of every future pope - starting from Celestine II in 1143 to "the end of time".
And he wrote all of it down in a document that is now known - funnily enough - as St Malachy's prophecy. In the original prophecy, he named 111 popes although later editions seem to include a 112 popes. (either he suddenly remembered a 112th pope, or maybe someone slipped one in)
At any rate, he has been correct now, a remarkable 111 TIMES IN A ROW. This guy would make a killing at Singapore Pools.
What is disturbing however, and I'm sure you already picked up this point - is that we are reaching the end of his list. (Remember this list is supposed to go to the end of time) If the original list is to be believed, then we're on our last pope. If the revised edition is correct, then we're on our next to last pope.
Either way, "the end" is not far away - at least according to the prophecy.
This naturally begs the all important question: Do I really need to go to work tomorrow?
You can find read more of all this prophecy stuff
here.
how to read a blog
Okay, so let's take in the first few lines, see what she has to say. Uh-huh, she went shopping yesterday, bought this gorgeous something something... spent a lot of money.. blah blah... feeling guilty..... blah blah blah... that's ok because daddy can blah blah blah, skip skip skip, blah blah blah.
skip skip skip... blah blah blah blah, skip skip * I wonder if there is going to be anything about me in this blog* blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah *nothing so far*skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip skip yabba yabba yabba, blah.
ok, she took a quiz. right. If she was a small excitable dog, she would be a yorkshire cross with a chihuahua. Ho-hum. Skip skip skip skip skip skip blah blah.
oooh, picture! wonder if I'm in it.
ok. I'm not in it. boringggg
Almost to the end of the post, is she gonna mention me or what? blah blah blah skip skip skip skip skip skip blah blah blah ho hum skip skip skip skip skip
"to duckshoe: you are one hot and incredibly good looking duck. Hotter than Keanu Reeves in fact."
YEAH MY NAME! woo hoo!
What a great post! it was interesting and engaging throughout. She is such a good writer! I must leave her some bright positive comments.
The Duckshoe Quiz!
Why should the other sites get all the fun? I, duckshoe, can also write a quiz. A deeply introspective quiz that will give you great insight into your personality. So go ahead, answer truthfully and get ready to find out things about yourself you never knew.
(Note to my parents: Please do not, I repeat, do not take this quiz, under any circumstances)
to find out what your answers say about you!
blogging like a blogger
I have decided that my blog is an embarassment to blogs. It is not very blog-like as in does not contain some of the key stuff that blogs should have. What stuff should blogs have? I don't know. If I knew, I'd put some of it here wouldn't I?
Anyway, I decided to look at a bunch of other people's blogs to see how to make my blog more bloggy. Here's the findings of my survey. Hope you like the all-new bloggy duckshoe blog.
First of all, a blog should have lyrics!
Here are some:
Ooh boys cheeky girls
Ooh girls cheeky boys
I never ever ask where do you go
I never ever ask what do you do
I never ever ask what’s in your mind
I never ever ask if you’ll be mine
Come and smile don’t be shy
Touch my bum this is life.
Oooooh
We are the cheeky girls
You are the cheeky boys
Hhmm cheeky cheeky
(laughter)
Cheekycheekycheeky
Come and join the cheeky club
This is what you want
Come and sing the cheeky song
Our cheeky song woo
Come and smile don’t be shy
Touch my bum this is life
Right, ok next a blog entry should have the results of an online quiz I took.
Congratulations, you're the bubonic plague! You're infamous. You're usually deadly when left untreated. You're spread by a flea.
That's how cool you are.
Which Horrible Affliction are you?I KNEW IT! That explains the rats!........
Ok, that's done, what else should a blog have? Ah, pictures of someone cute that I have a crush on.
Ahhhhh,...... Blossom, Buttercup and Bubbles..........ahhhhhhhh (*swooons*)(*faints*)
(*recovers*) Finally, any self respecting blog should have little messages for your friends.
No problem!
Britney : love the new do! hate the song. love the video!
Jacko: I need to take a raincheck on that pajama party
Camilla: why the long face?
Hold me. I'm scared.....
There are many things I'm afraid of and I'm not afraid to admit it. Obviously, admitting that I'm afraid is not one of the things I'm afraid of. Although, I may be afraid of using any one word too many times in one paragraph. So, I make sure not to do that.
Anyway I've decided I need to be less afraid and in order to do that I must face my fears. In order to successfully face my fears, the first step - according to the 12 step programme - is to identify my fears and list them on my blog.
- claustrophobia - the fear of being held at gunpoint and forced to to hurl father christmas off a cliff
- aracknophobia - a fear of having no place to put my shoes and not being able to spell
- kleptomania - oh wait, that's not a fear
- alektorophobia - the fear of chickens (this is the actual definition of alektorophobia, really, I swear)
- anemophobia - fear of clown fish
- eyefallophobia - fear that when looking over a cliff or a tall building, my glasses will fall off
- flockapooaphobia - fear of being shat on by a flock of seagulls
- publicstupiditophobia - fear of being on "who wants to be a millionaire" and not being able to answer this question: a bird in the hand is worth...... a)2 bucks b)2 in George Bush c)not much d)Mississippi (you don't need me to tell you the answer right?)
- aircryophobia - fear of being seated on an flight near a baby
- airsquishophobia - fear of being seated on a flight next to a really fat man
- airstinkophobia - fear of being seated on a flight next to someone with B.O.
- backstothewallophobia - fear of being hit on by a gay man
- backstothewallhandsinthefrontophobia - fear of being stuck in the same prison cell as Michael Jackson
- mayitbesilentophobia - fear of farting during a meeting
- omigoshgetmeouttahereophobia - fear being at a Celine Dion concert
- killmenowophobia - fear of being at a Celine Dion concert and enjoying myself
THE GUY CODE
Among men of the male gender, nothing is more sacred than the guy code. This is a code of conduct, specifically governing male behaviour with regards to another guy's girlfriend. Some guys - through sheer ignorance, undergone a lobotomy, not spending enough time with their fathers, being a raging homosexual - may not be fully clear of the code. Sure, they know such a thing exists, but was never quite sure what it said. Today, the mystery is solved. I present you: the 2 main rules of the guy code.
1. If you are single, it is not OK to go out on a one-on-one outing with an attached girl if you are a stranger to her boyfriend - regardless of how innocent you say it is, or if you two are "just friends".
2. Under no circumstances are you allowed to touch an attached girl anywhere. You may not hold her hand, you may not scratch her back, you may not give her a playful tickle. The only acceptable time is if she is hanging off a cliff, then you may pull her to safety. However, you must release her hand the moment the danger has passed.
That's it. Simple right? Write it down somewhere and memorise it all you guys who don't know it. Pretty much it can be summed up as "Do not unto someone else's girlfirend as you do not want others to do unto yours, assuming you have one".
Those are the main mantras. There are a lot of other minor rules in the guy code, covering all realms of behaviour. Here is a partial list culled from the utmost authority on the matter: spam e-mail I receive.
- Thou shalt not rent/watch the movie Chocolat, or The Notebook or Maid In Manhattan.
- Under no circumstances may 2 men share an umbrella.
- Any man who brings a camera to a bachelor party may be legally killed and beaten by his fellow partygoers.
- You may exaggerate any anecdote told in a bar by 50 percent without recrimination; beyond that, anyone within earshot is allowed to call bullshit. (Exception: When trying to pick up a girl, the allowable exaggeration rate rises to 400 percent)
- If you've known a guy for more than 24 hours, his sister is off-limits forever.
- The maximum amount of time you have to wait for another guy who's running late is 5 minutes. For a girl, you are required to wait 10 minutes for every point of hotness she scores on the classic 1-10 scale.
- Bitching about the brand of free beer in a buddies refrigerator is forbidden. You may gripe if the temperature is unsuitable.
- No man is ever required to buy a birthday present for another man. In fact, even remembering a friends birthday is strictly optional.
- Before dating a buddy's ex, you are required to ask his permission and he, in return, is required to grant it.
- If a man's zipper is down, that's his problem-you didn't see nothin'.
- The universal compensation for buddies who help you move is beer.
- It is permissible to consume a fruity chick drink only when you're sunning on a tropical beach... and it's delivered by a topless supermodel...and it's free.
- If a buddy is outnumbered, out manned, or too drunk to fight, you must jump into the fight. Exception: If within the last 24 hours his actions have caused you to think, "What this guy needs is a good ass-whoopin", then you may sit back and enjoy.
- Phrases that may NOT be uttered to another man while in the gym: "Yeah, baby, push it!" "C'mon, give me one more! Harder!" "Another set and we can hit the showers." " Nice ass, are you a Sagittarius?"
- Never hesitate to reach for the last beer or the last slice of pizza, but not both. That's just plain mean.
- Never talk to a man in the bathroom unless you're on equal footing: Neither both urinating or both waiting in line. In all other situations, a nod is all the conversation you need.
- Before allowing drunken friend to cheat on his girl, you must attempt one intervention. If he is able to get on his feet, look you in the eye, and deliver a "FUCKOFF!" You are absolved of your responsibility.
duckshoe's review of:
Generally, I didn't like it and I think it does things to your teeth - or so my mom told me. It was really plastic and fake. I expected it to be a little more rubbery. All in all, the experience wasn't something very enjoyable.
I conclude that this is definitely something only young children or seriously insecure adults can appreciate.
Ah well, maybe I'm biased. I never used one when I was a baby. I was a thumb sucker. Not that my mom didn't try pacifiers with me, but as she put it: "no space left in there." Also - and this is something I learnt fairly recently - forceably inserting or removing the pacifier can give the kid buck teeth when they grow up. Think about that moms - trying to keep your baby quiet today might make him/her look like Ronaldinho/Camilla in the future!
Rating for the pacifier: 1 pacifier out of 5
come of age...
I HAVE completed another big milestone on my journey to manhood - finding an affordable surgeon. (just kidding, don't freak out parents!) No no, I was born male and by male I mean .... you know... I have a package and I got it without having to go through painful package attachment surgery. (ugh, where am I going with this?)
What I meant to announce was: yesterday - as men have done to prove their masculinity since the Paleolithic era - I built a bookshelf from ikea. (of course I am taking liberties with the truth. The most cavemen could ever hope to build was a ikea coffee table)
what it's supposed to look like(left) vs my version. Pretty good eh?
It's an ancient tradition that many young men have had to go through, as a rite of passage into adulthood. They will leave the house or cave one weekend, go hunt the mighty bookshelf, come home and then put it together without looking at the instructions. And if, the bookshelf looks about 30% like the picture and holds a book for at least 5 minutes without crumpling to the floor - then the young man is now..........an adult.
I, personally, went through this experience yesterday. I hunted now the mighty Enetri bookshelf in ikea, killed it with my bankcard and hauled it home jubilantly with my brother supervising by carrying the heavy pieces.
At home, realising this was something I needed to do by myself to reach adulthood, my brother suddenly remembered a dental appointment. I boldly went and opened the boxes and was greeted with a bunch of parts that did not look at all like a bookshelf. Had I not known what it was supposed to look like, I swear I would've built a bed, or maybe an armoire.
Anyway, I sat holding a screwdriver surveying my armoire pieces - careful not to touch anything. Fearing if I startled it, it wouldn't let me build it and then I couldn't be an adult.
Then - a breakthrough! I saw some holes. Holes where I could put in screws! Hooray! Deftly opening the packet of screws provided, I was able in one swift motion to deposit screws all over the floor. (I believe I have since found all of them. That there are more screw holes than screws is probably just a design feature)
Anyway, for one hour, I toiled away screwing screws into the screw holes, cursing, unscrewing the screws putting the shelf boards in and screwing again.
Then, at last, success! I stood the completed bookshelf in the corner and placed a book on it. I stood there watching proudly as my handiwork came crashing to the floor. I learnt an important lesson - a bookshelf is not very steady if you stand it on its head.
I replaced the shelf the right way up. Replaced my books on it. And just like that, I became a man.
What a crock of ......?
There's this joke we bandy about the news business: "never let the facts get in the way of a good story." Looks like someone forgot to tell ChannelNews Asia it was a joke. This was the top story on their Saturday night bulletin:
SINGAPORE : Almost two weeks after the Nias island earthquake that sent aftershocks rippling into many parts of Singapore, fresh tremors were felt on Saturday morning by some living in the west.
The National Environment Agency confirmed there was an earthquake off the west coast of North Sumatra at about 9.30am.Registering between 4.2 to 5 in magnitude, the quake is believed to be an aftermath of the big one that devastated Nias island last month.
Some 700 kilometres away, tremors were felt by some Bukit Batok West residents.
Mr Krishnan said: "Around 9.20am, there was a slight shaking in the house. I experienced a slight cracking sound and the sound increase. And I looked at the tiles, the cracks go on increase. I keep looking, what's happening. In a few seconds, I had been having a cup of tea. It has given me some shock and trauma."
Other parts of Singapore do not seem to have been affected.
But NEA said earthquakes in the region caused a few such incidents here every year.
And geologists say that tremors are usually felt more in buildings that sit on land with softer sediment and soil. - CNAAt first glance, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong. Tremor, cracked tiles, national Environment Agency..... it all makes sense. Poor Mr Krishnan.
But wait a minute, magnitude 4.2 to 5? surely that's not enough. Indonesia had an 8.7 in the same place 2 weeks ago and nobody had any cracked tiles here.
A quick check with the US geological survey shows that there are on average three earthquakes of 4 or greater magnitude off the cost of north Sumatra every day. It's so common, the Indonesians call the authorities when their house isn't shaking. Construction and building inspection is a growth industry in north sumatra.
Police here didn't get any calls, neither did the Housing Board whose job it is to check these flats for structural damage. And as far as the National Environment Agency is concerned, there were certainly no quakes strong enough to be felt here. If a 5 set off tremors here, we'd be trembling every day.
What it should have been:
SINGAPORE : Almost two weeks after the Nias island earthquake that sent aftershocks rippling into many parts of Singapore, fresh tremors were felt on Saturday morning by some living in the west.
(more like, 1 person living in the west)
The National Environment Agency confirmed there was an earthquake off the west coast of North Sumatra at about 9.30am. Registering between 4.2 to 5 in magnitude, the quake is believed to be an aftermath of the big one that devastated Nias island last month.
(probably the only part of the story that's true)
Some 700 kilometres away, tremors were felt by some Bukit Batok West residents.
(again, it's 1 guy)
Mr Krishnan said: "Around 9.20am, there was a slight shaking in the house. I experienced a slight cracking sound and the sound increase. And I looked at the tiles, the cracks go on increase. I keep looking, what's happening. In a few seconds, I had been having a cup of tea. It has given me some shock and trauma."
(yeah, yeah, whatever)
Other parts of Singapore do not seem to have been affected.
(as in, the parts that are not Mr Krishnan's house)
But NEA said earthquakes in the region caused a few such incidents here every year.
(Really? how come you've only ever reported 2 other times, both in the last 3 months)
And geologists say that tremors are usually felt more in buildings that sit on land with softer sediment and soil. - CNA
A Sad Day
In times like these, who can think of anything funny to write? I can't. But then, nobody is in the mood to read something funny anyway. Today is a dark dark day for humanity. A day of grief for much of the world but mostly for Europe. A day that will forever be marked in history books under the heading "tragedy". A day that, many years from now, people will think of and say: "I wonder why Prince Charles and the horse got married?"
Yesterday, of course, was also a sad day.
It was the funeral of "the greatest Pope" that ever lived - now, also the greatest that ever died. Yet, I wasn't particularly sad yesterday. To me, it was just a body they fussed over and burried.
The Pope has gone to heaven.
No words I can come up with in the booger infested psyche of mind will ever do the great man justice, so I'm not going to write about it. Read
this instead.
Huh?
1. Errol Muzawazi, 20, from Zimbabwe has delivered the world's longest lecture after talking non-stop for more than three days. He talked for 88 hours and four seconds on democracy at Jagellonian University in Krakow, Poland. Experts from the Guinness Book of Records monitored the event and are assessing whether it meets their standards for a new world record.Muzawazi, who teaches political science, is already in the book as he held the old record of 62 hours and 30 minutes.
Huh? says: I hope it's not going to be in the exam. I didn't get it all down.
2. A Slovenian TV programme that tried to prove top models were brainless bimbos was scrapped after a beauty queen turned out to have a higher IQ than a nuclear physicist.
Huh? says: Yeah nuclear scientists trained by Mr Muzawazi.
Iris Mulej, a former Miss Universe contestant, had to take a series of logic tests looking at spatial awareness, mathematical equations and problem solving ability.Iris, who previously admitted one of her ambitions was to have sex with one guy and three other girls, was Slovenia's Miss Universe contestant in 2002.
Huh? says: I take that back. 4 chicks and a guy? this woman is not only ambitious but a genius as well.
3. Celine Dion has admitted that audiences at her Las Vegas show are often tired, drunk, sick and in some cases asleep.
Huh? says: Yup, I feel the same way listening to her stuff. At least she's honest.
4. A Russian scientist claims a beating on the naked buttocks with a cane is the perfect way to cure everything from depression to alcoholism. Dr Sergei Speransky says caning releases endorphins, the body's natural 'happy chemicals'. He recommends a standard treatment course of 30 sessions delivered on the buttocks by a person of average build.
The Russian team says they are now charging for the caning sessions getting £57 per patient for a standard treatment.
Huh? says: Huh?
5 years too late
Today - in response to reader requests (3 posts in and I already have readers!) (ok so my reader was forced to read) (ok "forced" is a strong word, what I meant is more like "begged") (do you realise after a certain number of parenthesis, you can't remember what you wanted to say? let me check back at the start, oh ok got it) - I will write about Snoopy.
Snoopy is the world's most famous beagle - although few people actually know that he is a beagle. They never made the connection because beagles typically don't look like Snoopy. Also, any beagle left in the presence of a little yellow bird would try and eat the bird, - not have a close, sometimes awkwardly homosexual relationship with it.
Despite his name, Snoopy is not very.... how you say.... snoopy. He's not a particularly inquisitive dog, often preferring to sleep on the sharp edge of the roof of his dog house, or dance on Shroeder's baby piano.
Nevertheless, Snoopy is today a cartoon icon, more famous than the vice president of any country (I can't even name one) - I'm sure Charles Schulz never imagine that his humble creation would one day be a Happy Meal toy that people fight each other at McDonald's over. Well you can't win 'em all.
Snoopy is no more - taken from the world with Schulz. (as it should be). But his legacy lives on - in our lunchboxes, our bed spreads, boxer shorts, ties, plates, cups, t-shirts, bags, toys........ and, yes, in our hearts.
the beginning
Today, I induct myself into the world of blogging.
There was a time, not so long ago, when I swore I wouldn't - but as with most times I've said that, there's a finite validity period. My ban on blogging has expired.
My initial loath for blogging stems from several factors:
1. I have a boring life
2. "blogging" is not a word
3. Seemed like only teeny-boppers(small boppers) were doing it
4. Bloggers were known as deluded, self-absorbed people.
Of course, these were all assumptions I made without any prior research. I am more enlightened now. I have learnt that "blogging" is in fact a word in some dictionaries - but I'll say this - if you are shopping for a dictionary and it contains a definition for the word "blog", don't buy it.
Also I have found that being without a blog has not saved me from being deluded and self-absorbed, so what the heck...
here's my account of today
1. woke up
2. ate
3. went back to bed
4. re-woke up
5. did stuff on computer including blog (note to self - go easy on numerical lists for future posts)
6. made note to self about fondness for numerical lists
7. etc, etc.
1981
Ahhh, what a watershed year this was for all, especially me. I was told my primary occupation at this early stage was shedding water - often in the form of spittle or wee wee. (mostly wee wee. Also i wasn't really eating very solid foods but we won't go into that)
This was also a year where I gained mobility and used it to transport myself headfirst into all sorts of furniture. At that tender age, motion was never a problem.....direction was.
Speaking of which, 1981 saw another guy with motion and direction problems elected as the most powerful man on earth - He-Man! Ok, not He-Man but Ronald Reagan. The ex B-grade actor becomes the 40th president of the US and - using political know how he picked from the moviesr training - swiftly goes about trying to blow up stuff.
He does such a good job as president that just 2 months after taking office, somebody tries to shoot him.
On the medical front, 1981 was year they discovered Aids - promtply causing a whole bunch of people to misunderstand it. Gays were designated the official minority everyone shall blame Aids on.
In happier news, the beautiful Princess Diana weds the mickey mouse-face Prince Charles in the most expensive, long and boring wedding the world has ever witnessed. Almost instantly they have problems - Charles unhappy that nobody wanted to take his picture.
Icons of 1981: Pacman, some monkey, and the evil aids carrying primate
Elsewhere Pac-man and MTV were being invented. The first video ever played on MTV was "Video Killed the Radio Star" by The Buggles. It was a song that showcased some of the finest lyrics ever written:
Oh-a oh
I met your children
Oh-a oh
What did you tell them?
Video killed the radio star.
Video killed the radio star.
You can tell this was a time when drug abuse was very rampant.
The Iran hostages were finally released. They all smelled really really bad.
1980
It was early one February morning when my mother first got sign that today would be the day.
My ever anxious grandfather said: "let's go to hospital!"
My equally anxious mom: "wait, I want to eat first.''
Half a day and several bowls of hawker food later, I emerged.
Many other important things were also born that year. Not as important as me but apparently more famous.
1980 was the year that CNN was born - all news, all the time. This was also the year 7-eleven came up with the "big gulp" and Sony released the walkman.
1980 was also the year, Star Wars episode 5: The Empire Strikes Back made a killing at the box office. It cemented Star Wars as a true pop icon. Unbeknowst to all, George Lucas had already begun plotting to destroy the magic of Star Wars 2 decades later with prequels.
Icons of 1980: the walkman, Jimmy Carter and hostages
It wasn't all happy, cheerful things in 1980 though.
The world was embroiled in a cold war - a sort of non-violent war that didn't seem to really affect anyone actually affect the countries actually fighting the war apart from journalists and Olympic athletes.
The summer Olympics that year were held in Moscow. The US and a whole bunch of countries didn't show up - protesting the Russian invasion of Afghanistan. Russia remained defiant and went on with the games despite the very real possibility it could win most of the medals easily.
The Iran hostage crisis which started in 1979 continued throughout 1980. It would last 444 days in total - setting many world hostage crisis records that remain unbroken to this day.
The infamous Iran-Iraq war also started in
1980 and would continue for 8 years. It was not clear who the winner was.
All this meant CNN didn't have to think very hard to find things to report.
1982
In
1982, a short two years after my birth, I (shockingly) turned 2 years old. I have been told that having a young me in the house is not unlike living with a drunk: there was a lot of pee-ing, puking, walking into things and frequent falling down.
My days I suppose - not that I can remember them - were filled with these infantile drunkard activities and a lot of sleeping with my thumb firmly entrenched in my mouth. I thought that my thumb was the tastiest thing in the world. (Apparently, I absorbed so much of its flavour in my early years that it shrank)
Ok, on to the less important stuff.
The guy who tried to kill Ronald Reagan in 1981 was - incredibly - found not guilty on grounds of insanity. Apparently the jury just couldn't understand why he didn't bring a bigger gun.
The MRI was also invented this year. For the uninitiated. MRI stands for Machine for Real-blur Images. Through the magic of magnetic resonance imaging technology, this machine allows parents to peer through flesh and see whether the unborn baby has pee pee or not. Before MRI, doctors often had to rely on crude instruments that looked a lot like small mirrors on sticks. (don't ask)
In 1982, certain bottles of Tylenol - a fever medication like panadol - were found to be laced with cyanide. 7 people took it, 7 people got really bad headaches and died. The company making it got the mother of all headaches - made all the worse by the fact that they coudn't take headache medicine for fear of death.
An eventual offshoot of this incident is the invention of child-proof caps. Childproof caps are caps which you open by a combination of pushing, pulling and twisting. It is so complex, I am often unable to open these bottles without home renovation tools.
a significant amount of productive work time during this period was wasted trying to get pill bottles open.
Other memorable things: Michael Jackson released thriller which would go on to become the best-selling album in history.
In the movies, 1982 was the year of tootsie, ET and Gandhi.
On TV, I had already subconsciously began to absorb the rays or shows such such as Magnum PI, the A-team and Dallas.
