This rebuttal is supposed to come fast and fury straight after reading an entry on my friend’s blog. However, typical me, I sat on the issue like a mother hen warming her eggs before finally getting down to refute her contention.
In one of entries, she stated:
Ladies: Our bibles i.e. CLEO and Female are accurate. The article contributors and editors know what they are talking about. When you put more than 1 man together in an enclosed space, there are only 2 things they talk about: Cars and Women.
Obviously she doesn’t know that the ‘research’ these contributors and editors did before writing their articles are as thorough as the research I did for most of my term essays i.e. quick, haphazard and random, if any at all.
Sorry, Professors, you’d already given me ‘A’ grades and I’d graduated. It’s too late to take those grades back now. Thanks for being so gullible to think I would actually put in hours into my research though.
Maybe the contributors and editors are speaking from their own experiences. Maybe my friend as well, when she put forward that contention in her blog. If so, I pity them because they’d only met the most boring lot of the male population. Also, my friend evidently doesn’t know me and a few other common male friends well enough when she put that sweeping and unfair statement forward.
To avoid shooting myself in my own foot, I’m not going to defend all the men since I don’t know all of them. Rather, I’m going to speak of my experiences with my closest group of male friends. Yup, the Westside Boys.
The extent to which we discuss about cars goes only like this:
'Hey, this Saturday can use your dad’s car? No? Wah lau, so sad. Nevermind then. We’ll just stay in our territory and lim kopi (drink coffee).’
End of discussion about cars.
There can’t be any more discussion about cars among us. To us, a car is just a metal death trap used for transportation. We never thought of using it as a babe magnet. Girls who like our cars (which none of us own even a seat buckle anyway) more than they like us are not of our desire.
As to women, sure we talk about them, just as women will talk about men. I’m not so silly to put down what we talk about women here. They’re for internal circulation only and I won’t want to ruin my chances of getting a girlfriend.
Seriously, there’re other more solemn topics we touch on. For example, yesterday, we discussed about the recent cholera outbreak in Singapore. Even if it were only because it would affect the choice of where we would be having dinner. We also talk about our impending plans to open our own sugar juice stall. Of course, this plan has been discussed to death and multiple afterlives since it started four years ago. It’s our belief though, someday it may just come true.
We also throw up intelligent questions like why do some maids call their female employer ‘mom’, but male employer ‘sir’ instead of ‘dad’. To clever questions like this, the rest will usually come up with smart diversions so that our intelligence won’t be insulted. If anyone has an answer to this, please feel free to drop it in the comment section.
I believe I’m bringing my point across here quite clearly. I suspect the experience my friend had may be a case of deliberate dumbing down, as in the case of certain women purposely dumbing down in the presence of certain men. For what purpose, you’ll have to ask them.
Of course, my friend quite cleverly included the phrase ‘enclosed space’ in her contention. Nevertheless, space is of no issue here.
For example, be it the enclosed space of a closet, or the relatively open space of under the bed, two adulterers hiding together from the husband of their adulteress will definitely have more to discuss than only cars and women.
Well, enough is said and I shall end here.
Sunday, October 10, 2004
Happy Birthday!
I attended a friend’s advance birthday celebration yesterday. When I say advance, I mean just 4 days in advance even though I would like to celebrate for her 4 years in advance so it’ll free up my calendar a day each year. The important thing is of course, I don’t have to fret over what present to buy for her for the next four year. Then again, I’d never fret over what to buy for her birthday each year. Not because I’m a good present purchaser or I know her inside out. Rather it’s because I’ve friends within each clique who’re good present purchasers. It’s such a waste if I don’t allow them to harness their unique talent. Without me, they’ll never have such great opportunities to develop themselves. So, yeah, the secret’s out. I’m more of a professional present shareholder than a professional present purchaser and I’m into ‘people development’. Hence don’t blame me if your present sucks. Go sue the present purchaser.
Before I go on any further, I would like to apologise for being late yesterday. You guys were nice enough not to ask for an explanation but I thought I would offer them here anyway. The truth was I screwed up the time yesterday. I knew we’re meeting at six. Somehow, my mind got to thinking I would only leave at, well you won’t believe it, six! It’s one of those mind-blur days you see, not to mention I was enthralled by the Indian film I was watching on TV (none of the usual running round coconut tree and MTV-ques scenes but funny nonetheless). So yeah, if I hadn’t received the call that jolted me back into reality time, I would probably be an hour late instead of 20 minutes. But hey, 99% of time I’m never late so take it as interest returned okay?
Anyway, yesterday’s celebration turnout was quite pathetic. Aside from the birthday girl, there’s only me and the professional present purchaser (from this point on called P3) I’d 'engaged' for this occasion. Yup. Just us threesome. Opps! I mean trio. This clarification is very important, as I don’t want any violent implications from the hunky boyfriend of hers. Come to think of it again, his eyes are so much like my handwriting (small and ugly, though I just mean the small part here) that if I just make this entry in smaller font size he probably won’t notice the mistake.
In any case, the birthday girl was quite upset that the turnout was so low that she looks glum like this. She was expecting a sell out crowd but it turned out the crowd sold out on her instead. To make matter worse, P3 informed her ‘the crowd’ sold her out to see a bunch of scrawny guys and hairy gals in tutus prancing around under the stars at Fort Canning The event is called Ballet Under The Stars, affectionately called BUTS (I suppose they drop a 'T' somewhere along the years). Can you imagine her anguish? That ‘the crowd’ would rather be exposed to the elements, get bitten by bugs and watch advanced primates with no more sense than to perform without a shelter? Shame on you guys (and gals)! If she starts wearing tutu to wherever she goes, it’ll be your fault! Then again, don’t take it too hard. She was actually very happy that she didn’t have to entertain so many people. In a way, you guys also escaped the dread of finding out what present P3 got for her in her presence.
Departing from his usual flair of choosing an appropriate present, P3 actually got her a big thermo flask. You know, those stainless steel kind shaped like a bullet. His rationale, she’ll need it when working in the office. Well, obviously he hates her. Who in the right mind would drink scalding hot water? And you don’t need a thermos to hold warm or cold water. He could have gotten her one of those cute little plastic water bottles that’s omnipresent in kindergartens instead. Those whereby a straw pops up whenever the cap’s opened. Preferably with dirty green floral design or Power Puff Girls. I’m pretty sure it fits her image quite well. Especially if she ties up her hair in two braids as well. Okay, give me a minute to shudder at that thought.
All right, back to the present. On hindsight, a thermo flask is indeed a great present for her. Aside from containing whatever poison she may put inside, there can be other creative uses for it. Now, don’t start looking at me with slanted eyes and tsked at me. I’ve no idea what type of creative uses you guys have in mind but what I’m talking about here is using the thermos as a tool. Specifically, as a defense weapon should she run into any trouble with the lawless (Not as in Lucy Lawless a.k.a Xena). Alternatively, she can use it as an attack weapon. So, I won’t want to agitate her in anyway if I ever see her carrying something even remotely like the thermos in her bag.
P3 must have hated me as well, because after the dinner, he subjected us to the intolerable cruelty of the Ladykillers, a new film starring Tom Hanks. At least he (P3, not Tom Hanks) was nice enough to introduce us to a restaurant (no free advertisement for it here) with quite nice food, edible at least. Makes me think of the last meal before an execution. I have totally no idea why P3 wanted to watch that film. Only reasons I can think of is he’s smitten with Tom Hanks, or maybe the old lady in the film, or he’s too stressed out by projects and tests he lost his Sense of Good Choices momentarily. Well, I wish you speedy recovery P3. At least you still have Common Sense with you to agree it’s a bad show after watching it.
In order to save those with extra cash to spend, I’m going to spill out the content of the show right here. That way, your urge to watch that show will be quelled and more beneficial uses can be made with those extra cash, like donating to the needy i.e. me. However, I’ll do it in the next entry if not this entry will run too long and I’ll miss my beauty sleep. So check back again and I’ll give you my address for the donation at the same time.
Friday, October 08, 2004
Quotes of the Wise
‘The wisdom of the wise, and the experience of ages, may be preserved by quotations’ -- Isaac D’Israeli
Ha. I’ve always wanted to start off with a quote. Quotes are such wonderful things to use whenever you’re writing something, be it a term essay, news article or just a plain old blog sprinkled with drolleries to bait the ugly and the bored.
I remembered during my years in university, I constantly dropped quotable quotes, heck, even the unquotable ones, into my term essays. First, it makes me look well read, just as you probably would gaze at me with adoring eyes as if I’m shitting diamonds from a platinum asshole by the time you finish reading this entry. I’m not kidding! If you quote from, say, Mother Teresa, readers would think you’d read her entire life story and had picked out the most quotable quote out of the approximately 100 million sentences (figure quoted from very reliable sources) she’d ever said. I’m sure they’ll be very impressed. Maybe even believe you’re on the way to Sainthood. One thing I know for sure, my lecturers were all suckers for quotes. I would never fail to get a good grade whenever I quoted from others, especially if 'the others' are them.
Of course, even if the readers are not impressed by the quotes you’ve taken, you’ll be seconded by the efforts made in rooting out those quotes. The more quotes you include, equal to more efforts being made in finding those quotes. At least that’s the impression you want people to have. In reality, the equation of ‘more quotes = more efforts’ does not necessary hold water in a milk bucket. In fact, quoting can be as simple as digging your nose, unless you’ve very thick fingers and small/hairy nostrils. All you have to do is to pop into any library or bookstore; even the corner newsstand may do the job. Pick a stack of books or magazines at random. It doesn’t matter what kind of books or magazines they are. The golden rule of quoting is ‘Everything is Quotable for Anything’, Once you’ve pick out the books, get seated down and the fun begins! Blindfold yourself, flip through the pages of each book and poke your finger in at random. Ta da! You’ve got yourself a quote! Repeat steps.
Next, quotes will help you fill up the word count faster than you can yell Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, a word quoted from Mary Poppins. This is a very important factor (the filling up of word count, not the yelling), particularly when you get lecturers who’re trained at the Institute of the Mentally Deranged and probably headed by Dr Evil. They tend to give you a very high word limit, though the word ‘limit’ is an oxymoron since I usually have trouble reaching it, in an impossibly short time (after discounting the time I procrastinated of course, which wasn’t that long I assure you). So quotes come in very handy. Let’s take the topic on love for example; a typical quote-filled paragraph will look like this:
"To be in love is merely to be in a state of perceptual anesthesia -- to mistake an ordinary young man for a Greek god or an ordinary young woman for a goddess (H.L. Mencken, 1919). This statement is partly supported by Katharine Hepburn (19XX), who ‘sometimes wonder if men and women really suit each other. Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then.’ However, Pearl S. Buck (19XX) argued that ‘The person who tries to live alone will not succeed as a human being. His heart withers if it does not answer another heart. His mind shrinks away if he hears only the echoes of his own thoughts and finds no other inspiration’. Thus one has to make love with a candle and whip (Playboy, Issue XX, 19XX) as loving involves struggle, resistance, risk (C. Heyward, 19XX). When this occurs, it not only makes others feel loved and cared for, but it helps us also to develop inner happiness and peace (Dalai Lama, 19XX)."
Easily, within 5 minutes, I’ve written a relatively long and coherent paragraph discussing about the issue of love. It’s almost an effortless effort, with the words in red the only contributions I truly made. I’ve quoted from a political commentator (H.L. Mencken), an actress (K.Hepburn) and a Nobel Laureate (P.S.Buck). I even have C. Heyward, a feminist, and the Dalai Lama supporting the art of making love as noted in Playboy (totally fictitious of course, since I’ve never read Playboy before).
It also helps a lot if you’re seen quoting from someone who has been knighted. It’ll give credence to whatever you’re writing, even though nobody may recognise the name that comes after the ‘Sir’ or it may be totally irrelevant to what you’re writing. After all, for someone who’s been knighted, he must have certain level of intelligence right? For all we care, the ‘Sir’ may have came about be it because he invented the first flushable toilet for the Queen or because he taught the Queen’s poodle yoga. What I’m saying here is it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to bother about the background of how the knighthood is achieved. Nobody’s going to remark that a quote from Sir Who-teach-poodle-yoga is better than Sir Who-teach-elephant-Swan-Lake. Both will look just as daintily good.
I’m pretty sure that there are many more advantages to quoting apart from those I’ve mentioned. Most certainly as numerous as the number of pimples on my face. There’s no necessity for me to advocate quoting much further as I’m sure you’re smart enough to know them already. If not, I’ll leave you with this quote by Mary Pettibone Poole, ‘ The next best thing to being clever is being able to quote someone who is (me!!))’