Saturday, September 30, 2006
sweet charity
october is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month, so go pink as newwoman says.
arnott's timtam pink wish is impossibly inviting. $2.69aud, the strawberry and chocolate is y.u.m. ten cents from every limited edition pink wish helps support the National Breast Cancer Foundation.
polo ralph lauren pink pony tennis balls, $19.95 for a set of 3. 25% of the sales will be donated to breast cancer research as part of the Pink Pony Fund.
more pink buys [here]!
and maybe, schedule for a mammogram!
p.s how many pink wishes y'all want?
fuck at 12:54 AM
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Ar, garden city
it seems that the art of the government is still horticulture.imf=import many flowers.
biennale= make big banners look artfully stupid amongst newly implemented bushes in town.
who is to know how biennale is supposed to sound like? is it english, french--when in doubt, say it in singlish? even the most worthy prof tried, she sounded like a trying art-promoter, to my utter disgust at the end of a very agreeable and inspiring literature class.
damn biennale, with its imported name and artists. because
1. biennale is a show. and whatever merit it essentially might have, is denied appreciation by the damnable superficiality of banners and bushes.
2. something as wonderful and comparably avant-garde as this biennale, the Sept Fest-is cancelled because they wont close a small road for some party!
police say no, authorities say no. i was going to submit words to be shouted out by (i hope) a hot woman standing high on a donated sofa on Armenian Street holding a loudhailer!
why wont the authorities let common people have some art they understand?
why have the "art show" on tv mobile feature the launch of some aristocratic label no bus-rider who travels so far as little india will have the chance to attend?
plantation of art snobbery.
timtams at 5:45 PM
Thursday, September 21, 2006
love thy neighbour (not)
my neighbours never said hello to us. the balding man in his fifties with a young son i saw in the lift turned out to be the occupants of 115 and i only saw them once.the other day, a grumpy old lady walked out of 115 at 3am; threw dirty looks at weizhi and quentin and started rambling on about "a giggly girl's laughter" that kept her awake for three consecutive nights.
the next day, in an ill-fated coincidence, quentin met her in the lift. she stared- even when he said hello.
and two days ago, chris said a middle-aged woman stared at him as he entered my apartment - before he can say hello.
so staring is the new hello? they suppose staring will ease the racial tension and even since our neighbourly ties are just hanging by the moment.
and now besides establishing that the weird neighbours are an old retired couple staying with a mother with a young child or maybe otherwise, we are ostracised for being rowdy neighbours with frequent active nocturnal happenings and then condemned for being yellow-skinned, black-haired and just plain asians.
tell me why is it that i dreamt of australian dollars - of twenties and yellow fifties, not blue.
fuck at 3:34 PM
Monday, September 18, 2006
deja vu
the mockery of fate.the same turn on the same stretch of road.
the uncanniness of hellrot and blood red.
it could have been us (to read).
fuck at 2:58 AM
Saturday, September 16, 2006
spring colours - montville
fuck at 7:55 PM
spring colours - montville II
montville, a quaint little village heavily influenced by the colonial europeans. thank god it was part of the roadtrip's itinerary. the first stopover at glasshouse mountain was - really i don't want to talk about it-. think hills and humps and hills - where my glasshouse mountain at? so, it's advisable, only logical and practical to research the destination before trawling people with expectations of at least a decent scenery. bah!
montville was quentin's suggestion, enroute from glasshouse.
a poet's cafe, an italian shop, a little peek inside india, a little zen and a little parisian artsy. must love!
fuck at 7:53 PM
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
scandals, she wrote.
procrastination almost killed me. i had extensions, extension on extensions, medical certificates and doctor's (overdue) letter to excuse my academic incompetence while my writing progressed excruciatingly slow.the drama of my less than dolce vita worsens pms.
i did 2 weeks worth of laundry, tabloids crossword puzzles, drowned myself in the tuscan sun and baked some soul food- mini chocolate noir croissants.
the episode of sex, lies, no videotape but stale cigarettes appears to be true love, after 5 days of disappearing act. it's so hard to stay angry with her, seriously, if anyone of you lalas sexed on my furniture, i won't fume but allow me a week to detoxify all impure thoughts and rid the smell of sex.
quentin's indifference frightens me. it's not the first or the last you'll hear anyway. the thought of people hearing about you before they actually see you, the thought- it scares me - how these rumours eat you from the inside out.
-------
today at dinner,
i didn't know trump likes his sunny side-ups medium well - cooked on both sides yet runny on the inside and marcus likes his medium rare - crisp at the bottom yet runny on the inside. but i like my eggs well-done or messed up; otherwise omlettes or scrambled (:
i've been on music therapy since. the shanghai 1940s cabaret of oriental lace, feather boas, red lips and white cheongsam. because he sings of rosemary - my previous incarnation, i can't remember how many times i've fallen hopelessly in love and (impossibly) out and all over again with him and his lofty, undying and endless love.
fuck at 9:31 PM
Saturday, September 09, 2006
why is medusa laughing?
it is stupid, it is cellularly stupid, to be gratified by something such as a woman's service in pouring sake for a table of men.one guy (for he is neither boy nor man) was recounting an account of a male friend in a party of people (japanese i think --if i heard the detail rightly) . Said male friend decided that since he was the youngest and least powerful, he'd better take on the humility and the responsibilty of pouring drinks for the table--only to be stopped by another, who said " these kinds of things, let women do". so "the woman of" the biggest big ass boss served the men.
" whao this is the ideal world la! when women know how to do their jobs, and pour drinks and serve us. shiok"
of cos lion was worried that i was going to explode right there. but i felt nothing, my heart did not even skip a beat. i felt no rage, no indignation--and i dont know why.
on hindsight, the ideology, misogynist, sexist, or plainly idealistic, is kinda laughable.
timtams at 9:56 PM
timtam faces extinction (is fit to be a headline)
before i say anything, i think i am the only timtam left in singapore. i am lonely without them, who are not even left on the shelves anymore. did i really eat so much of them?----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
thus with a significantly empty heart and nonsense full of a stomach, i retch up another heart/stomach burning question:
if units of national service, nric and car plate number formulae is the basis of fraternity between an awkwardly named Da Quan and an aptly named Lion,
what forms then, the basis of our yayahood?
chia thinks that the answer to this question, once uttered, will become taboo.
so i am left to think that we must be as obscure as the big triangle into which things go and out never come. 322 324 326 has always been a pyramid to me. a closed circuit, with buried treasures, dead beautiful things and a maze that only ancient genius may solve.
timtams at 9:16 PM
lost in the constellations
it's curiosity.the people i met, the people who became my friends, friends who were other people's friends. their background, the ambitions, their traits and strangely, the horoscopes. they come in pairs - the permutations of constellations; as if by dice-roll of lucky combinations, repeated and recycled and repeated again.
my two rightful housemates, marcus and trump.
geminis and people lovers with superb culinary skills.
my two female friends - equivalent of aussie yayas, jodie and kelly.
cancerians and absolutely loving and motherly.
my two intruder housemates, quentin and chris.
virgos with the love of fast cars and (love of) legions of beatiful female friends.
my new-found and the long-lost, sam and weizhi.
pisceans. no common traits yet, but always badgering quentin to sell them his skyline.
i'm the odd one.
is this a pattern or a coincidence that i'm living in?
could i be waiting for the rams, the lions and the bulls next?
and there's one i loathe. so much. it makes me sick to think she might be of my kind to repulse me as much as i repulse her.
fuck at 2:20 AM
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
sinful bliss
is honey caramel and dark chocolate .linyan and her "dark chocolate", ah sweetness.
fuck at 1:40 AM
Sunday, September 03, 2006
colloquial signs
indooroopilly train station: please stand behind the yellow line. 
brisbane airport, arrival hall.um, okay.
fuck at 3:41 PM