still cant believe i have titles!

first of all:





why the hell my weirdness quotient is so high, i do not know. But hey i take it as a perverse compliment! And its a test which actually makes some fucking sense, how's about that? I mean, an online test which
a) makes sense
b) gives a believable result (alright so i'm admitting to something there) and
c) has DECENT questions

is a fucking find. so take the test!


no, i receive absolutely zero monetary profit from plugging the site so shamelessly.


although if the creators of it happen to read this, i wouldnt mind a little cash, of course!




The second order of business (isn't senseless, useless, annoying bullshit grand) is that i am now the proud owner of a surfboard IN SINGAPORE. like fucking finally!


WAIT. I JUST CHECKED THE SOCCER NEWS IN ANOTHER WINDOW isn't it marvelous how you can do that AND CHELSEA FUCKING BEAT MAN U. GODDAMN FUCKING BLOODY HELL! HATE MAN U ALL YOU WANT, BUT WHO DOESNT SECRETLY FEEL CHELSEA IS A TEAM COMPRISED OF SNOTTY NOSED UPSTARTS? AND NOW THAT JOSE BITCH WILL NEVER FUCKING SHUT UP. SOMEONE SHOULD SMASH HIS FACE INTO ASPHALT. I MEAN SERIOUSLY.


pardon that. Yeah, so i got a Fish board off eBay for like $300. that's not too bad really. I'm pretty damn psyched. now i just gotta find me some waves.......





Onto the third topic.
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy has FINALLY been successfully (and completely) made into a film. Anyone who isnt a fan of Douglas Adams wont realise what a tremendously, humungously, tumultously, almost-terrifying-in-its-sheer-magnitude of a big deal this is. Am i getting thru to you? ITS COMING TO THE SILVER SCREEN KIDDIES. Watch for it!



Did i mention i've got a surfboard? i did? you sure? wait, lemme check...........

oh yeah i did. Hmmm that's strange.




++++++++++++++++++++++++


I usually try and avoid having anything to do with homosexual things (there's generally sufficient doubt regarding my sexual inclinations already; no, i dont bat for the other team! My door swings only one way - towards women!) but i have to admit that The Magnectic Fields have a most intriguing sound. They're really pretty good. One thing about their album that immediately struck me was that on the album insert they explicitly said "No synths" and it's bands like that i give my respect to.
So check out a song sometime! I particularly recommend "My Evil Twin" , i think its called. "I Die" isnt too bad either.





While i'm doing the recommendation thing (but still, sadly, receiving NO cash for it) everyone who's even vaguely interested in writing (in English, that is) should read, at least once before they die, "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius". if the title doesnt immediately grab you, maybe dont bother. Also, if you cant appreciate said title for the sheer virtuosity it represents, once again, maybe dont bother. Its by Dave Eggers, and he is utterly refreshing.
For those of you who know your reviewers (blessed few that you are, i think) The Washington Post, New York Times and the Boston Chronicle all thought it was fantastic. That says something, people!

If you cant find it in stores (it was published circa 2002, but i'd never heard of it till i saw it at a sale) drop me a line. I'm glad to lend books for a greater cause.


If you'd like a little taste of what parts of it are like, scroll down two posts to the one which has a section with the refrain "I meet the girl" and read that bit. Obviously, im not arrogant enough to say its exactly like his (alright so i am, and "obviously" really shouldnt be in this sentence, as my "fans" surely know. but let's keep this a family show, alright?) but then i didnt write it to be just like his. I may as well just copy a page if that was wat i wanted! but it was definitely inspired by his style. see what you think. leave a tag!









Lastly..... my baby's getting good! This is a fantastic thing. 'nuff said!



slither just slither and slither
thru my heart you go, making me wither
i crumble and drop, i die, my heart stops.
stumble forward when you say come hither.

just a quickie/something short/a brief message from our sponsors (those would be me, come to think of it).


I took my second SATS practice test today and got 1500 on the dot. I'm at once over the moon and not really surprised. Here's going for 1600 then!



My fingers are crossed.


(pardon the arrogance =)

my girlfriend sits in the cinema, slowly dying.



me and a friend have an empty, ever-winding conversation about the pros and cons, the joys and sorrows, of circumcision.



i trawl the great sea of cyberspace with the net that is my mind, looking for a cheap thrill (and simultaneously hating my treacherous mind for using that phrase). I am a drifter.



But hey, its all ok!



*******************************************



I got model scouted AGAIN today. now, you're gonna have to pardon what may come across as arrogance (i fucking well HOPE it comes across as arrogance. i always strive to be honest in my blog - and there's a confession that you'll hardly ever get from me. quick, catch it! its slipping past! missed it? HAHAHAHA you butter-fingered bastard!) but i just thought this next bit was hilarious.

Talent Agency Agent (female): Hi sir, here's my card. I work for (...)

Me: Yeah sure.

TAA: Now you obviously know you're very good looking, which is why i've approached you.

Me: Yeah sure!




doesnt that strike anyone as even slightly amusing? i've never been so frankly flattered in as long as i can remember. quite refreshing.
Plus, of course, she was definitely playing to my ego. Ah well. No popcorn being thrown from this quadrant!


That makes 4 hits within the past six months, and counting still! that's pretty damn decent actually.


+ + + + + + +



Anyway. I was thinking about THE INTERNET.
I've put in it CAPS because i wanted to grab your attention. did it work?
But i digress. (God to count the times i've had to use that phrase in this blog..... oops there i go again) Take a second to think about the net. Just what is it? Its something the entire world is plugged into, isnt it? Excluding, of course, some (but even then very few) Third World countries. We all use it, and each little country has a tag at the end of locally-hosted websites. Singapore: www.wergreat.com.sg . Malaysia: www.fuckuwerbetter.com.my France: www.ifu2fightwesurrendernow.com.fr Britain: www.waitandseewhatUSdoes.co.uk Australia: www.weshallactindependentofUK.com.au New Zealand: www.letsjustlovesheep.com.nz so on and so forth. you get the drift, the picture, what i'm getting at, my main point, my central idea.

BUT. The United States of America (peace be upon them - wldnt they love that? being blessed, Muslim-style?) doesnt do anything like that. For the States, plain .com is fine. (Ask Sun Microsystems: "We put the "." in ".com" "). Its www.wehateamericawhatrwedoinghere.com , and www.yeahdamnrightleaveyoufuckers.com and www.BushisGod.com . No overt desire to segregate for America! The whole realm of Cyberspace is theirs! No need exists to demarcate their territory. And i think that's just the way it should be.
Better America than China any day, I say. And it has nothing to do with race, contrary to what i'm sure most of you think. The citizens and government of China are inevitably all corrupt, with little or nothing in the way of morals and ethics.

interesting that American websites dont have a country-tag affixed to their addresses, doncha think? Tell me that didnt make you think.




( ) ( ) ( ) ( ) ( ) ( ) ( ) ( ) ( ) ( )


You meet the girl.

-Oh fuck she's sitting right there. Goddamn my hands are sweaty, does my breath smell? why's my hair feel weird? damn she looks good - fuck dont stare you dumb shit! what the hell are you thinking? Thinking?! What AM i thinking?! she'll never take to me. Fuck fuck fuck i'm so badly dressed i should've worn a tie. A tie motherfucker? Damn my hair's bad, why's it feel so weird, so weird, so weird. My hands are like a bloody waterworks! I'm so nervous, so nervous, so ner- snap outta it dickhead! Alright take it easy, sit down, sit down, gently, slowly, slowly - oh goddamnit and fuck it all you moron dont scrap the fucking chair you shithead what is wrong with you motherfucker you're acting like a total idiot straight outta special school just what is so wrong with you?

You meet the girl.

-Second time 'round, this should be cool, she's sitting right there, looking so sweet. I want to grab her and hold her and hug her and kiss her and touch her and smell her and - snap the fuck outta it! control yourself man, you gotta act cool and collected. This chick aint got nothing on you. Damn but she's beautiful. her eyes, her nose, those lips, those lips... THOSE LIPS! damn i've still got food all over my lips! oh very smooth shit-for-brains just what the hell is wrong with you cant you ever get anything right you moron now she's gonna think you cant even clean yourself look at her she looks so good so perfect so exquisite so unbelievably beautiful so CLEAN and you're appearing like a dirty fucking slob you bastard are you trying to ruin your chances do you really want this to work out or n-- SHUT THE FUCK UP!

You meet the girl.

-Third date...this must mean something right? Right? she probably likes me. She must like me! unless she's one of those evil bitches you read about who like string guys along just for larks the kind that play with men's hearts and have no care for how miserable this makes them feel the kind that only want a male's money but dont give a fuck about him the kind who - What the fuck am i saying? She must like me. She MUST like me. I'm dressed fine, my hair's feeling good, my glasses are sitting right, my pants are ironed - wait a second i dont wear glasses fuck fuck fuck i'm so nervous still even now i'm such a pussy what would the guys say if they saw me acting like such a goddamn wuss over some broad what is so wrong with me oh goddamnit my hands started up again they're just trembling and nervous and uncool i need a smoke. A smoke? i dont smoke!! what would she say if i suddenly lit up? You aint fucking gonna light up motherfucker you dont smoke. Right. i dont smoke. Damn but she looks so good so good so good. I cant talk. Talk you dickhead! make light conversation pretend like there's something going on inside your empty skull instead of just your brain being busy preventing you from pissing your pants TALK DAMNIT. alright fuck fuck fuck what to say what to say oh fuck and damnit i'm so damn nervous i cant talk i cant talk i cant talk what's going on how can i possibly be this lame and ridiculous fuck fuck fuc- wait she's reaching for my hand damn and fuck she'll see how wet it is oh no oh no alright get it together she's taking hand! she's TAKING my HAND. SHE'S taking MY hand. she's leaning forward oh god she looks so beautiful so good so appealing DONT STARE DAMNIT YOU LECHEROUS PIECE OF SHIT she's leaning in she's leaning in she's kissing m- .


You meet the girl.

OH MY FUCKING GOD. how long since i had titles?

"Its a monster!" she said
as she rolled 'cross the bed
hid and covered her sweet pretty eyes
"Its a monster!" she cried
as she squirmed by my side
and i looked straight at her in surprise.
"Its a monster!" she screamed
(yet still her eyes gleamed);
she continued to shrink far away -
"Its a monster!" she said,
but came back 'cross the bed
and then - there was naught more to say.



this thing (i made a typo and "ting" appeared on my screen. My fingers are all scions of Judas) gets in here coz (its funny - that's one of the very few annoying short-form words i employ. there's simpatico when it comes to that one, tho - damn there's another one!) i think its deserving of publication! i love it =)


Plus, that poem is really pretty damn fucking bloody hilarious, in a manner most abundant with joie de vivre, as well as good old humour - if i may say so myself. which i bleeding well can, of course. joys of blogging =)


so thank you =) (that smile's 100% tooth-free)



* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *





just took a coupla seconds to reread that poem. i really actually think its pretty good :) alright so it's no Chaucer, or even Yeats (i dont think much of the latter - Keats is far far better. Greater breadth of vision) but its fun! these days anyone can be a poet anyway - all they've got to do is come up with some lousy verse and ta-dah! that's it. now excuse the pun, but where's the poetry in that?

It should be a calling, not an excuse used to cover the essential core fact that said "poet" HAS no damn job. no career, no vocation, no employment - other than that of all-around lowlife, while moonlighting as a living insult to the great body of English Literature.


But let's not embark on a crusade. I leave that to medieval Christians and modern-day Muslims.

For members of the latter group who wish to kill me (members of the former having long become dust) my address is 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.







I sent an email to Mr David Fahy recently and he replied! to me, its special enough to deserve posting here:


Dear Timothy
Thank you for those thoughtful, delightful words; really and truly.And what an unexpected but very pleasant surprise (as indeed the best of surprises always are).
A real pleasure to hear from you without a doubt. A Lit related / based career for you, yes why not. I would honestly say you have talent, and potential. Very much so!
If you like we can meet up sometime...and shoot the shit so to speak in more relaxed surroundings.
Meanwhile all the best for 2005

Mr Fahy




I want that down for posterity, in the event of such unlikely events as Yahoo crashing and going bankrupt, thus causing me to lose all email storage. Its one of the few letters (using the term broadly here, of course) that's dear to me, because out of all the teachers i had at Catholic Junior College, David Fahy gets by far the most of my respect.


And it has very close to nothing to do with him being white!!


(had to throw that in for the legions of cynics)




In closing: I cannot believe what came into contact with my face today. It is indelibly etched in my mind.

brand new

well this is an intervention.
no more green fonts whee
control in small amounts better than none i suppose

enjoooyy :)

i have a feeling i'm going to be strangled

oh well.


; jacq

i had absolutely the best time of my life yesterday. (that would be the 5th. hint hint, people? or do i need a sledgehammer to drive it home?) wine, bag of chips, waves, GODDAMN FUCKING WINE OPENER WHICH WAS AN ABSOLUTE WASTE OF MY BLOODY CASH CONSIDERING I HAVE LIKE TEN AT HOME, BUT THIS IS OK, the beach in general, the supposed-and-suprisingly-genuine-apparent charm of using paper cups (however, there's a distinct lack of a *cling* when you toast. there's just sort of a wet soft clunk).......

perfection under the cover of........ well sadly i cant say stars. Singapore, hub of so many damn things (Bio-tech hub! Toilet conventions hub! Shipping hub! -at this point i'm sorely tempted to say "shitting hub" just for the semi-rhyme - Bio-med hub! IT hub! Arts hub!), is so hubbed-out (now there's a phrase) that the stars are hubbed-off. light pollution from all the damn hubs (last time i use that word i swear) blocks all the stars in the sky, rendering them nothing but silent voices in the void, crying out endlessly but never heard in fair Singapore.




Hubhubhubhubhub (i just had to).






sadly, the ending of today's left me with a sour,nasty taste in my mouth. There's just a way you can sometimes have of saying things without meaning to be upsetting or anything that just makes me miserable. And i almost never know what it is i've done. "woe is me". i wish you were alright and happy, with a best friend to hang out with when i'm not around/when you need someone. i wish you had no regrets about staying. i guess i wish a lotta things.



if wishes were fishes there'd be no space in the sea
if i were a horse thats not where i would be
i'd gallop and gallop thru fields ever free
but alas, i am human, and thus "woe is me".

my wishes are many, my answers are few
and yet that dont matter now that i have you
sometimes though it seems you feel so so blue
and there's naught that any, even i, can do.


but i'll keep on trying.

i'd say i'm back in real loud CAPS
act like i think you care
but why pretend? We are not friends
Let's lay it on the table. There.





A little bit of healthy cynicism to tide us all over into the fresh, wonderful, glowing opportunity that is 2005, right?
But no. We should be cautiously optimistic at all times =)


I havent quite been creating new works of literature (i.e. my blog posts. Here's a bucket) as much as i'd like to. But then, that seems to be the general trend amongst the blogs I deign to read (the only update i've spotted recently was Joyce's, on the joys (pun absolutely intended :D) of having the old and unfortunately-not-disabled around the house), so i guess my subconcious is just keeping me a trendy sorta guy.

Right?



moving along from that embarrassing and sudden onset of silence... i figured its a good thing to draw up a list of the things i'm grateful for for 2004. (dont you just hate it when that happens? i toyed with the idea of "grateful for regarding 2004" but that's so obviously an attempt to evade the awful eventuality known as "for for" so i decided against it) so let's just get to it, shall we?


1) I think its fair to say one of the best things in '04 was the forging of fantastic friendships, which mean more than words can say to me. *and those of you who know me for the garrulous, overly verbose, noisy and all-around-loud motherfucker that i am will realise how much it means when i say i cant express myself. Its not quite appropriate to mention names, because i dont want people to feel left out. But there are a few of you, a select group of which mean the world to me. How often do you discover a t**n anyway? and against all the odds you could possibly think of, too.


2) Some may think its selfish to say this, but I dont. I'm grateful no-one i know was taken away by the tsunamis. Now before you say "you heartless bastard" (the possible truth of which i wont try to deny) just think about it: aren't you, too, grateful? My heart goes out to those affected, directly, indirectly or vicariously. But i'm glad God didnt sweep anyone i love away.


3) I'm grateful for the discovery that I love the experience of being a student. If i had my way, i'd stay a learner for all my life. There's something i absolutely adore about learning, continuously and continually, and about the attempt to present good work to a teacher. The debates in class, the efforts to contest a point, the absorbing of information...these and more possess a lure which i only grew aware of this year. And it's an important revelation.


4) I'm grateful for the discovery (i mustn't overuse that word! maybe if i spell it wrong the daft ones amongst you will think its a synonym. "I'm greatful for.....") that i love writing, and that there actually are people out there who aren't overcome with a burning desire to destroy all my prose. I've realised i really enjoy just spilling words: be they in the form of prose, verse or that curious in-between thing i seem to do so much which some find disconcerting (but refreshing - or so they say), enough to be seriously considering taking Literature in uni (to think i thought my lit teacher in sec school was insane for doing that! The irony is Shakespearean). Its also been very encouraging to have been told by others who's opinions i value that they think i write well. Being told that my work intimidates aspiring writers, because they feel they can never match my stuff, is really rather flattering (but to be honest, slightly untrue. but you didnt hear that here!). the discovery that there are untold numbers out there who read my blog without me knowing is also delightful. you dont read what you dont like right?

although everyone seems to agree my blogskin SUCKS. =) duly noted.


5) I'm thankful for teachers who didnt give up, no matter what some of the cohort might say. Sure, we had Miss Jean Yeow-"I could have been a rocket scientist. President Clinton offered me a scholarship" and the like, but then there were teachers like Rajoo-"A man without a moustache is like a tiger without stripes" who were always positive - except for the times when they were quietly, but extremely, negative, creating utter hilarity. These teachers kept us - me, at least - sane, kept us going, and gave us more fucking chances then any of us deserved. My biggest thanks goes to Mr Rajoo, and Mr David Fahy, the former for being a great form teacher, and the latter for never giving up on me, despite all my jaunts. Mr Jason Liew (Lieu? "T Three!") for whipping my lazy ass into shape, also. And Ms Ho, that veritable saint; she deserves my eternal gratitude simply because she never gutted me like the absolute pig i was =)


6) I'm grateful (theres that damn word again) for the many fantastic books i read/re-read/flipped thru to select mind-blowing segments. I recommend, above and beyond any book known to mankind, the Dune series. I'm reading it for the 3rd time in three years - it IS that good. I mean the original 6 by Frank Herbert...the latter-day books by his son are puerile. Other authors my thanks goes out to: Douglas Adams (RIP), Rupert Morgan, James Morrows, Robert Jordan, Raymond E. Feist (oldies are goodies), John Ronald Reuel Tolkien (just showing off there :D), his son Christopher for the History of Middle-Earth (!!!), DBC Pierre for Vernon God Little, Magaret Atwood for Oryx and Crake, Guy Gavriel Kay for Sailing to Sarantium - a jewel amongst books beyond measure, Hermann Hesse for being a thought-provoking genius, Kafka for providing comic relief (strange but true!), Tom Sharpe, PG Wodehouse and Terry Pratchett (ditto) and all the other brilliant authors whose works have enriched my mind over the past year.



7) Lastly, I'm grateful beyond measure for Jacq. i continually feel like i have been blessed beyond all measure. =) at this point i dissolve into a stupidly senseless pile of goo on the floor, being rendered incapable of speech. please refer to * above :)






Happy New Year!