Gentlemen, when you visit a lady (or gentleman) of the night, kindly ensure that you have sufficient remuneration to compensate them for their time and enthusiasm; lest you end up like this poor soul who had to visit the surgeon for an embarrassing outcome (see page 2, 2nd column at the top).
Christmas candles should NOT be found in ANY bodily cavity, thank you very much.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
(Semi) Clean humour for Ramadhan, yes?
A little geek humour to start with ...
Well, maybe this one ain't so clean (or those following it).
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| Segue into the war of the sexes ... |
Well, maybe this one ain't so clean (or those following it).
You are what you read?
At least, according to Markus Appel, an associate professor at the Johannes Keppler University of Linz, Austria. He conducted an experiment where the subjects read a really dumb story about a really stupid fellow and then gave them a general knowledge test. It looked like those who read the tale of the idiot did worse at the general knowledge test than those who didn't. It was not known whether the test subjects were daft to begin with.
If that is so, will reading urban fantasy make me into a supernatural monster?
Anyway, who cares what is the capital of Libya?
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Cloudy with a chance of rain
Today was the first time I went on a company sponsored trip for work purpose. I was delighted to get the window seat and entertained myself peering over the wings of the plane looking down on the ground.
From KLIA, the earth is a verdant, emerald carpet, thanks to the #1 cash crop of the country, oil palm. Breaking the greenery are the developments, clusters of cookie-cutter housing estates and townships. Angry red welts of exposed raw laterite marks areas where the earth has been gouged for new development. As the plane made its (seemingly) desultory pass over the hilly areas, I wonder how long before those proud peaks are levelled for more development. :p
But I digress.
Looking at the clouds drifting in fat clumps outside the window of the Fokker F-50 (I think), I remembered that as a child flying towards Europe, I looked at the blanket of white below and wanted to ask the pilot to stop the plane for a while, let me out to play in the clouds before resuming the journey. I was seven years old and did not understand that clouds are merely condensation and those cartoons depicting people living on clouds with harp and wings (heavenly, really?) are NOT REAL.
However, at this hoary age that I am at right now, gazing at the expanse of thick whiteness with jagged peaks, reminiscent of pristine Antarctic icefields, still makes me want to ask the pilot to stop and let me go play in the clouds. Granted that I now know that by doing so I'll be plummeting to a horrific death in the South China Sea, but the feeling still remain.
I should stick to playing in the snow (when possible).
Here are a couple of songs I love that features clouds.
This song of Tori Amos has a way of tugging my heartstrings. So poignant and resonant; not a bad feat considering I barely understand her enunciation.
I adore The Cardigans for their subversiveness. Such cheery, pop-py melody teamed with dark themes and slash-your-wrist sentiments as demonstrated by Cloudy Sky (dang youtube no let me embed). Superb.
No wonder one of my favourite past times is lying around watching the bouffant poufs of water above drift by with my earbuds firmly plugged in and my MP3 player on shuffle.
From KLIA, the earth is a verdant, emerald carpet, thanks to the #1 cash crop of the country, oil palm. Breaking the greenery are the developments, clusters of cookie-cutter housing estates and townships. Angry red welts of exposed raw laterite marks areas where the earth has been gouged for new development. As the plane made its (seemingly) desultory pass over the hilly areas, I wonder how long before those proud peaks are levelled for more development. :p
But I digress.
Looking at the clouds drifting in fat clumps outside the window of the Fokker F-50 (I think), I remembered that as a child flying towards Europe, I looked at the blanket of white below and wanted to ask the pilot to stop the plane for a while, let me out to play in the clouds before resuming the journey. I was seven years old and did not understand that clouds are merely condensation and those cartoons depicting people living on clouds with harp and wings (heavenly, really?) are NOT REAL.
However, at this hoary age that I am at right now, gazing at the expanse of thick whiteness with jagged peaks, reminiscent of pristine Antarctic icefields, still makes me want to ask the pilot to stop and let me go play in the clouds. Granted that I now know that by doing so I'll be plummeting to a horrific death in the South China Sea, but the feeling still remain.
I should stick to playing in the snow (when possible).
Here are a couple of songs I love that features clouds.
This song of Tori Amos has a way of tugging my heartstrings. So poignant and resonant; not a bad feat considering I barely understand her enunciation.
I adore The Cardigans for their subversiveness. Such cheery, pop-py melody teamed with dark themes and slash-your-wrist sentiments as demonstrated by Cloudy Sky (dang youtube no let me embed). Superb.
No wonder one of my favourite past times is lying around watching the bouffant poufs of water above drift by with my earbuds firmly plugged in and my MP3 player on shuffle.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Because you're worth it
Hugh Laurie hopes that he is. Is he flogging L'Oreal? I can't tell from this video.
Can you?
Can you?
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Two bloody tissues ...
As a wake up call, nothing beats multiple personality display on the interwebs.
Thanks to Suzi.
Thanks to Suzi.
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