Big Fish, Little Fish

Big Fish (2003) is one of the films I have wanted to watch in the theaters but ended up forgetting about it because there are always better ways to spend your money on. And for that time, LAN shops. Shut up, I really liked counter-strike, I didn't pick my MSN username for nothing alright?

I can write a long post about how feel-good and inspirational the film is but considering how "Hot Shots" and "Airplane" are among my favourite films, I don't think I should. About the movie, you should just watch it and I believe it's showing on Channel 5 very soon, so there's no excuse. Other than hating advertisement breaks coming up every 15 minutes, I guess.

If not for this film, I would have never discovered how cute Alison Lohman looks.



Damn it.



And then, there's Steve Buscemi, who's famous for being ugly. I swear he's the only actor who gets paychecks because of pastiness and eye bags deep enough to be categorised as natural lakes.



Helena Bonham Carter, I have always expected her to look like a old saggy fuckshit insane bag of goth because of her past roles but does she look good for someone over 35 or what? She may have creeping vines for pubes and a bat for her privates but shit, she looked good.



A former colleague once told me a story about how he used to get abused in High School because he was a minority (Fillipino in Canada) and a puny, feeble-limbed one at that. There was this one guy who always picked at him; build of a moose (Canada lol), athletic, intellect of a moose and he had a girlfriend. High School was a very "U lAfF bCoS i'M DifFerEnt" time for him so all the angst and teenage rebellion possessed my colleague to creep to Moose's locker and poke holes in his condoms.

Moose ended up getting his girlfriend knocked up and ended up keeping the baby. The former High School star athlete started working odd jobs to support his premature family and I believe he's still doing the same now. He never found out about the hole in the condom.

David Denham (in the screenshot) reminds me of Moose because he's pretty much playing the same character in The Office as well. While Buscemi is always being typecast as "ugly comic relief guy who's also ugly", Denham is the "loser jock who has the desirable girl but loses her in the end".

I know how unnecessary the story was but I just wanted a chance to type that out. Cannot issit?

Last Perth post, I swear

My face has been twisted into a perpetual scowl this couple of days and the main reason why I'm feeling so manstrual is for some reason, technology. Basic functions like copy + pasting are not working on my computer, Illustrator not willing to display transparency properly and the installation of Canon's digicam drivers and software is driving me nuts. I don't get it, it's made for old farts who are overly-enthusiastic about sharing their vacation photos because it's their last one before starting to decompose and the "zombie attack lol please be zombie it's fun be zombie" crowd on Facebook, WHY AM I HAVING PROBLEMS?

Even though I cannot imagine myself living in the woods using flints for fire and wearing leaves for warmth, I really hope I can find something to do that doesn't involve electronic technology. There's jujitsu, which has brought you the story of Windypants and for me, a screwy right ankle. A colleague suggested rock-climbing, which sounds fun but having a Windypants there will be a lot more disgusting than having one in jujitsu class.

Also, I do realise how lamenting about technology on a blog is more ironic than an iron bucket of iron irons designed for irons.

Like a sane, straight, non-perverted male at a Cosplay convention, I have some photos that didn't fit well in the previous posts so I'll just dump them here.



See how smoking is bad for you?



Great lighting, awesome background, shame about everything else.



Wah slow shutter sia.



I like this shot, I think it's the colours.



So much emotions!



So much emotions! #2



So much idiocy!



Definitely visiting Perth again.



Not exactly Perth but I found it in my pictures folder, one of the last few photographs taken before my old digital camera broke from Avery attempts at eating it whole.

It was supposed to be a comedy, damn it

Master Chef strikes again!

Stop playing Halo 3 if you misread the title. Master Chef, of course, refers to me. If you remember, my previous culinary creations include Cold Soba Noodles (with sesame oil somemore), Baked Pasta with Sardines (which was horrible) and Breakfast Muffins with Canned Salmon. The hyperlinks are working a little oddly now, you have to click the links repeatedly for a minute before being directed to the relevant posts.

My family went to Malaysia for my grandmother's birthday so I had the chance to do a couple of dishes that have been bugging me for a while. The first was poached salmon, simply dressed with with oil and whatever herbs or herbs-like ingredients I can find. It turned out okay but then again, how can you fuck up poached salmon?

The second was spaghetti in Alfredo sauce. My desire to prepare this dish stems from my first tasting of it when I was eight years old. At that point of time, my father, the sole breadwinner, was still working his way up the company and as a result, I did not have many chances to eat food that was normally served in nice sit-in restaurants. But, we were at this European food fair at basement of Ngee Ann City, crowded as fuck and there I was, having my first ever taste of pasta, with tears in my eyes.

Then again, that might have been due to my mother hitting me because I could never shut the fuck up or keep still like a normal child. But ahh, I'm digressing, still can't shut the fuck up. I remember it being a small plastic cup of flat noodles in a white creamy sauce (fettuccine in Alfredo sauce) and after finishing it, I looked up at my parents with a smile and probably some cream around my lips (insert inappropriate joke). I remember saying, "I like this." and my parents encouraged me to get one more cup, "Go on, go ask the man over there. (HAHA we don't have to feed the little fucker for dinner HAHA)"

With a dramatically slow turn of my head, I looked over to the pasta booth.

I couldn't see shit.

Fuck! I was really short so I had to move a few steps so I can actually see behind the booth and the man preparing the pasta was this huge man, as Italian as they come. 80s' moustache, thick hairy arms and a red cap on his head. Wait, that's another Italian guy I was thinking of. Just take away the red cap and there he is, the man behind the pasta booth. Summoning all the undeveloped balls I had at that time, I walked towards him. He noticed me and he stopped scooping fettuccine into small plastic cups for the other cheapskate Singaporeans, his hands now on his sides.

I looked up at him, "Hello, can I have one more?" His scowl broke into confusion and then into a huge smile.

"HAHAHA Why-Ah of course-ah! You can-ah have-ah more-ah!"

He scooped me an overflowing cup of pasta and patted me on the head before waving to my parents and I walked back, all cocky now because I was making the first step towards Singaporean citizenship: Getting a second serving of free samples.

I looked back at the Italian stereotype and even though he was busy, he smile and nodded at me.

There it was, my precious first pasta experience. Hence, my decision to make my own Alfredo sauce for my dinner. Butter, milk, cheese, parsley, some more cheese and oil, wasn't hard to prepare at all, just a matter of adding the right amount. In fact, I got an idea of preparation by looking at the ingredients list on a can of Alfredo sauce in NTUC. The spaghetti was done nicely, not al dente, but good enough. I then poured my precious cream all over her face the spaghetti and I took a bite. My first pasta meal created from scratch.

I know it has become a trademark of mine to disappoint after dramatic build-ups but I can't do that this time, because it really tasted good. Add some mushrooms, bacon bits and maybe a few more sprigs of whatever herbs they use, and I'm ready to run that shame of a franchise, Pastamania, out of business. I'm going to call my chain "Rastamania", a reference to the unique herbs that I will be using.

I'm sorry again

Totally my own fault. I just had to open up that can of worms again.

I thought I was over you,
I thought whatever we had between us was already gone,
I thought there will be no chances of it being brought out again,
I thought it won't matter, seeing you again.

I swear, my main purpose of watching Lost In Translation wasn't because of you, it's just that...I've heard so much good things about it. You being in it didn't really matter. No, not that it doesn't matter but I...just wasn't expecting to fall in love with you again.

































It's not your fault that you're so hot.

I'm sorry

I just woke up not too long ago and was at my computer surfing websites featuring pregnant tentacular hermaphrodite hentai porn when I heard three soft knocks on my door. I opened it, expecting my parents to be back with my lunch but instead, it was this young Malay girl who, I think is my neighbour. Yes, I can't even recognise my neighbours.

In her hands was this huge dish of Hari Raya snacks and she said, "This is for you", her braces showing in a shy and self-conscious smile. I accepted the gift and just stood there for a while, "Wow, thank you. This...is very nice of you." I don't think I have been more genuine in my life before that.

That whole gesture caught me off-guard and it really made me guilty, especially for the times when I would dump my rubbish bags at their doorstep and put plates of half-rotten rice in their shoe cabinet so the rats would gnaw on their sneakers and sports shoes. When the girl offered me the snacks, I noticed the holes in the pair of Nike's she was half-wearing like a pair of slippers and at that very moment, I knew it. I am headed for an eternity in hell where millions of patchy-furred feral rats with blood-red eyes will gnaw on every part of my body until I have repented on my racist ways.

If you really thought I did all those acts in the previous paragraph, please stop reading my blog. You obviously think I'm a bastard with no heart and I am very disappointed.

Somewhere in Novena

There's this little restaurant selling fish head beehoon and it was quite a satisfying meal. And this is coming from someone who doesn't normally enjoy fish head beehoon. Anyway, I ate my lunch there this afternoon because I managed to sneak out of camp and it was quite an achievement despite me forgetting to smuggle my rifle out. (Hello, MINDEF security people, thanks for dropping by)

But this post is neither about the food (with pseudo-foodie angled photographs) nor is it about how I'm going to get sent to Room 101. What really burned into my mind was what the old cleaner lady did. She hobbled into the relative coolness of the restaurant from the ridiculously scorching weather outside and of course, she was sweating like mad. She was holding a piece of rag that was used to wipe fish bones, gravy and soy sauce from the tables. Beside her was this pail of brown-coloured water with bits of chili and other assorted now-inedible food items floating on it. Aaaand she needed to cool off.

Guess what she did?

Depending on how disgusting you actually are, your answer will vary quite drastically. If you have guessed "She dipped the rag into the murky contents of the pail and wiped her underarms with it", well done. That's the fourth level of disgustingness, above "wipe face with cloth" and below "wipe underside of floor-draggingly saggy tits with cloth". She then walked behind me to clear up the table beside mine and you know how you try to subtly hold your breath whenever someone who looks like they smell walks past? That was what I did except I took that huge gulp of breath at the wrong time.

Well, at least I now know what to think about when I want to delay ejaculation.

Perth part 6

Yes, the sixth installment of my adventures in Australia. Yes, I am really milking my trip for all it's worth, which amounts to roughly S$1200. It has been three weeks since I've returned and the one thing I really miss is how cool (although chillingly so at times) and dry the air is, which means I probably had to sprint with a very pregnant cow (No Jules jokes today, I'm not an asshole) on my back for 10 minutes before breaking a bead of sweat. However, the dryness also meant that I had to make a conscious effort to moisturise my skin or else it will just start snowing onto the ground in flakes. Like how I showered my tuition teacher's desk with dandruff but that's really a story for another day.

On my last morning there, I decided to make breakfast. Oh yes, not only am I nice to my girlfriend, I make breakfast too. But please, girls, dry yourself and continue reading.



Not the most appetising photo because I was starving so I ate my way through half the...burger muffin thingy before I remembered the camera.



This might not look very appetising either because come on, it's canned salmon. But honestly, it wasn't too bad! The muffins were toasted with oil on the frying pan before being served and the eggs were...very...fluffy and...delicious...and...other...adjectives used to describe tasty food! Okay la, it wasn't anything special but compared to what Jules normally eats for breakfast, I can safely say that meal was pretty heavenly.

Below are some pictures taken at Fremantle park and they show why Australia is such a popular country for migration. People get recognised there, your efforts will not go unnoticed, you will not just be another nameless citizen.



A statue commemorating John Hobbs, the first man to look like a dick.



This statue is for Paul Benhill, who was born with his brother Edwin Benwill on his shoulder, who in turn was born with a gigantic testicle on his hands.

Not a lot of photos for this entry even though there are some more on my hard disk right now. There's this one photo of me with a very...odd expression and it's good enough to give this a run for its money but I'm not sure. Because I'm still getting comments on the photo of me wearing a dress. I WAS FORCED INTO CROSS-DRESSING AT A YOUNG AGE OKAY?

Perth part 5

Ahh yes, part 5. Unlike the previous entry, I actually bothered to check where I have left off. I know, the "part...something" was ridiculously lazy.

After the pho we had in Northbridge, we had to rush back to the hostel before the last bus leaves at around 6 p.m. because the bus drivers, like all Australians, want to "CATCH SOME FOOTIE ON TV, MAAAATE". Since I wasn't intending to "CATCH SOME FOOTIE ON TV, MAAAATE", I decided to try trashy food and Chicken Teat was perfect as it was just a footie kick away from the hostel.

However, that wasn't my first taste of trashy Australian fast food. In fact, it was on the second morning in Perth when I decided to wander around alone to Kardinya (10 minutes walk away, two if you're running because of how fucking cold it gets) which was a cluster of supermarkets, mom-and-pop grocery shops and eateries.

There was this fish and chips place which looked a little fishy mainly because of the huge plastic fish ornament on the wall but also the fact that there wasn't anyone else in there. Of course, I got an order of fish and chips and it was just so bland. I'm not sure if it was due to my taste buds' constant exposure to heavily-spiced food but I honestly couldn't taste anything in the fried fish at all. It was only after I've finished a slab of the fish before realising that I need to add the vinegar and salt myself and the vinegar was stored in one of these bottles.



And it was placed on a counter, beside a piece of wiping cloth. Can you really blame me for thinking logically and not wanting to drown my fish and chips in household chemical? So, it was quite a crap meal even though Emma Watson was the one serving me and it's not because about how all white people looking the same, she genuinely looked like that girl every paedophile would give a left nut to merely dream about. But because I'm not a sick bastard, it remained a lousy experience. Maybe the guys who commented in the post about Avery will like it more than I did.

Back to Chicken Teats, I bought a Double Decker set meal for around 10SGD and I felt like I ate the best chicken burger in my life. Probably because I had low expectations for Chicken Teats because really, chicken? The most boring and generic meat you can find?



But oh no, this one was so good that they covered it with a layer of cardboard so as to surprise me when I unwrap it. "Oh what's th―the famous Chicken Treats Double Decker burger! What a surprise! My dining experience will be quadrupled now!"



I think it was the cheese melting on the fried chicken fillets that really sold the burger for me. Then again, it's not like the Double Decker is the only burger that has this combination of ingredients but it just tasted so great and I'm not even sure why. This almost balances out the fact that Australians are so "CATCH SOME FOOTIE ON TV, MAAAATE".



Even this thing that Jules ordered was good, despite it looking really sad. Yes, I just called a toasted ciabatta sandwich "sad", I think it's because of how frowny it looks. At least it tasted good, unlike the guy who sat in the corner of classrooms who was sad and NOT delicious.

Obligatory totally out-of-the-left comment made, I think this entry's complete. Time to sleep but dammit, I think I have just tempted myself to prepare a nice supper for myself.