Apologies for the egotistical shit or mistakes in grammar, punctuation or spelling ---- NOBODY'S GONNA FUCKING READ IT. IT"S A PERSONAL BLOG FOR FUCK's SAKE. IT"S ALL FOR YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Right well i dont' know what happened cos i penned something on my iphone like yesterday at 12:00am and after about 3 pints of guiness draught (cos that's all i drink), 1 killkenny, 1 san miguel and a tequila shot i can't find it.. of fuck it. I'm still up at 6:50am. I'm still up reminiscing how I actually met a relatively nice Thai Chinese girl tonight. she had a side that was really sad and alone. something in her reminded me of the ex. when she asked for my number 3 times, i didnt give it to her.
Why am i still awake?
well i went with Dan to the Affordable art fair at the F1 pit building earlier yesterday (opening guest by invite only sia!) and bumped into Boo, an ex-lecturer. so chit chat chit chat and then just when i thought we were just talking about regular arty stuff, he just mentions "hey! you know that Choo girl? the one with the fat one? the abit crazy siao siao one?" (i immediately thought "oh god everyone knows her like that even after all these years?")He was even doing a little jig dance to immitate her. i remember why i left that fucking institution.. though i did almost burst out laughing. so i answered him "you mean Ann?" he said "yeah! she got married". I replied him "oh really? well i lost touch with them 2 years ago and i dont' really care. maybe see you next year for the BA course?"
well i didnt tell him that all along i've had the impression or feeling like she was either dead (or emigrated) or married - they all mean the same to me.
anyways, Dan was nice enough to ask me if i was ok after the show. We shared a cigarette and suprisingly, I did feel ok. We both agree and fundamentally do not believe in marriage especially one sanctioned by a religion.. Fundamentally? I trust that statement with my LIFE. there is no such thing, and no matter what anyone says, especially religion. seriously i'd rather watch teletubbies then believe bullshit from a pulpit. I've seen too many "marriages" fall and crumble. beginning with my own family (oh, its a disease in mine. every fucking aunt, uncle and cousin has divorced since i was 15. not sure if we have some kind of record yet. Maybe its genetic. which is why i'm born with the belief). And of course alot of people will swear by their own parents, including the ex will bear testimony to: - the surviving marriage and "love" of their own parents who have never shagged anyone else and the woman probably doesnt even know what an orgasm is. (I've judged. well i might be right still. then again, i am still reeling from a night of drinking so fuck off.) I believe it's also an excuse to keep that supposed "preacious" person right beside themselves so they dont run off.
so yeah, i went to her blog, and saw her cheesy fucking wedding photos. I'm not jealous. NONONO! oh goodness gracious no! never would i be jealous of those pics.. hahahha! i'm sorry it was painful to see and not because of our past but cos it was so "made-in-Taiwan-ala-winter-sonata" please.. And the Twat doesnt have a nose bridge. and that french suit with the lapels.. sorry la.. just stick to what you're good at wearing.
Pause.........
Oh... i'm too tired. I had typed a long essay. I dont care anymore. She still harps about the past. She hasnt' really changed that much. she goes on about her insecurities. I have mine too. she has her shit to deal with. we all do. i'm not a psychiatrist (although it was funny how she tried to diagnose me with some disorder to explain my wrath). I had honestly wished with all my heart when i ended the relationship, like i had done so many times (yes more than once over the 5 out of 7 years of the relationship), was that she meet someone that can make her happy and give her whatever the fuck she wanted from me that i could never give her.. And finally she has. I was really angry at first because of course, reading her "husband's" post reconfirmed my suspicions that she was really cheating on me until my birthday. it used to be sad. i couldn't tell her in words that i knew she was cheating. but letting her go and sadly knowing that she already had a backup was the hardest part of everything. but then again, she was always a sucker for anyone that could provide that security for her. And now she has it FULL TIME. and I am FREE at last.
My only regret is losing matty as a friend. she was awesome before the psycho. i could have a great laugh with her. she and jeorgieby. and dan and shaun. and ah ma. and the lame queen kina. the original gang before things turned to shit.
At crazy elephant, Dan asked me to cheers and make a toast to her wedding over our first pint of draught. I didnt' want to. He said "come on, good wishes for her". I said " good wishes are reserved for only good people. I'd rather wish you well" and so we ended up wishing me well for my 3 interviews on monday and a big fat fucking pay cheque.
I thought that blogs were where you "record" your events or highlights of your life so you could remember and like act like you've been ALOT of SHIT in life but fucking bull crap please, if you believe that horsehit, then you're a soap opera slut. give it a break. nobody really reads this shit. yeas...if you're talented like Xiaxue and actually have a trademark then yeah but even she started it cos her stupid ex threw her diary away.
I think it's more like if you can get through the ordeal of actually trying to type out what happened and in the middle realise "what the fuck am I doing?", then you've externalised what you need to. You've dealt with it. Let it go. I'm not really gonna bother. I have no shame. I've been the best i've tried to be. I've sacrificied my life, money, time, emotion, body, soul, tears and blood for those years. I've shed even more when my parents broke up. I shed a little bit more that I don't have much left in terms of friends and family. But like i said in my previous post, you have to face the big 5 elements of your life and at the end of the day, you've got to face yourself.
so yes, i wish you well. I dont believe it. I am unable to fathom that emotion because, just as i dont' believe in God and religion and stand by these beliefs, I cannot accept the "sanctity" of an institution like marriage, like parenthood, like fidelity, like charity. It doesn't make me any happier by doing these deads. Wishing someone well on a marriage is a death sentence to that person from me. and as such, i wish to rather reserve my emotions so that bad things do not happen to her and her twat. (i'm sorry i'm a bitch but he's fucking ugly. and his nose is so short. dick's probably not that big either.. oh stop please!hahaha)
(drunk feeling wearing out - regaining feeling in fingers) At the end of the day, she's happy i guess. That's all that matters. and i'm free at last.
time to sleep. best cure for a hangover, is to type all night till the next day and then feel alot more sober. go for early morning coffee and breakfast in peace and quiet. I love my new life. I love my new place. I know what i've become, and i know where i'm headed to.. It's all finally good :)
Peace out.
Friday, 16 November 2012
Thursday, 15 November 2012
Finding a new job
It's been a hell of a few months which ended in me resigning.
Not just me but both me and a senior designer both.
Why? well it's not been fun working for a cheating company that swindles clients in the pretext of an interior design company.
I mean when you buy a bulb, you would expect a bulb made of bulb material rather than a picture of one.
And when you are actually the "managing director" of an interior design company, you would expect to have some form of aesthetic appreciation, or even just basically know how to design stuff?
Mistreating your staff and shouting them and throwing paper at them is also not such a professional thing to do.
Right now I am totally tired out on having to deal with these types of people.
This whole year in general has been a great upheaval of all that I believe in.
Love, family, pets, friends and work.
The famous 5 things that you have to somehow find some kind of balance and each one of them all at once competing for equal placement in your life.
How do you choose which is more important? or do you just give them 2nd runner up placement to the most important thing - your own SELF.
Read more Ayn Rand and her theory of objectivism. If you're not happy doing something (after rationally evalutating the situation) then you're basically not happy.
And I am not happy.
Today was the last day for my senior designer and man am I gonna miss working with someone that I have the balls to face off in design.
It's 2 more weeks to go till I FUCK OFF from that fucking company.
14 days to get something else on track.
Freelance? It's gonna take time to get shit in to earn the cash.
Take a break? Gotta pay rent and shit.
Take up that tattoo course in Thailand? What if I get an immediate job offer and they're paying me really well?
I could drive a taxi? well i could but there's a 1000 dollar deposit for when you actually want to hire the taxi. and i don't want to bump into the idiot ghosts out there.
I could pack my bags and fly off to thailand or cambodia and find a job there? Well I could if i had enough cash saved up.. could still be in my plans over the next 2 years.
Could I still try for Canada? well the list is not out yet for the following year. It's not singapore where we let everyone and anyone in. Let's hope they're looking for architectural technologists/artists to migrate there.
Also, being 33 has never been easy. Years 30 to 32 were basically a blur. Partly due to the fucking excuse for a relationship (I asked for it, the fucking sadistic self). I live for other's dreams. Now the spotlight is on myself and I have to answer tough questions about the big five.
I kinda feel that at this point of time, the next job i hold will be the LAST job I will actually have for the next 2 years.
It's a cycle. all jobs for me have lasted 1.5 years to 3 years.
I don't have a fantastic job track record in the past.
Fucked up my art tutor stint, mostly due to the idiotic head we had at the time who when highlighted to her that she was obviously menstruating in class in front of everyone and stained the chair she was sitting on, got up and said " ah, i'll change it later". And of course it wasn't easy dating a student who, on your first week of school, got so angry with you for taking the MRT with your own BROTHER that she screamed, pulled your hair into the ceramic studio, getting into a physical fight, tried to stab her own hand with a ceramic needle tool and made you smash your new samsung clamshell phone with the Marilyn Manson "sweet dreams" tune that you loved.
Fucked up my other job at the architectural stint. I just didn't care about how much of the land an owner bought could actually be used to build the fucking house, I didn't care anymore that staircase risers and treads were 150 - 175mm max and 250mm min. accordingly. I didn't care that the swimming pool couldn't be built over a soil pipe carrying shit for all the other houses. I didn't care anymore that so and so didn't "approve" of this or that and that owners bought their land at so many millions of dollars and had to pay so many extra millions of fucking dollars to do this or that and fuck all. I just didn't CARE ANYMORE. This is the land of regulated red tape and the heaven of rules.
Fucked up my current job - well this one I can say I didn't fuck it up at all! I was good at it. I fucking loved it. But blaming me for putting out a shoddy 3d model (whipped up in 10 hours with no sleep) to a non-confirmed client and saying you were embarrassed by it is not a valid fact. Telling me I should stick to my architectural works and not do anymore design is FUCKING BULLCRAP. I'll fucking design your goddamned gravestone you hypocritical Christian cock-sucking senile wannabe designer of a boss. Shove it up your glory hole and if there is a "GOD"; the same god you worship every sunday at church, I hope he seriously gives you the gift of conscience so hard and fast, you remember how much pain you caused your own mother when she forced you out of her own body that you commit the ultimate sin and DIE.
First, you put your tyre-rim selling salesperson son-in-law as the senior manager of the company, your daughter is the QS and your wife is the director, although she doesn't show up 90% of the time. Then your son-in-law makes life so bad that within the 1st 2 months, 2 staff quit because of direct comments he made about firing them.
Then you shift the whole fucking company into an office 1.5 hours away from everyone's house, right smack in bukit merah. Then you buy season parking for all the idiots that have rooms / offices in the company. You promote several people just to make your company look like its heading somewhere. Then you hire an overweight designer who pitches 1 fucking job and wins it and suddenly all previous efforts made by your other designers are crap.
To boost the company profile you hire 2 business development managers: 1 idiotic senior manager with 11 YEARS of experience who wears mustard yellow and chrimson red pants. you hire your NIECE as a marketing personnel. Within 3 weeks of establishing a business unit, you shift your son-in-law and daughter (who are married and have procreated), into the sales and business team. You SACK the senior business development manager and focus on the 1 manager for leads.
Then you beg an ex-staff who your son-in-law caused to resign, to come back and promises him a new senior position, you offer him an assistant. Then your son-in-law does it again! the overweight star designer becomes a target for his office politics. he causes her to QUIT! she throws the letter in.
Within a week, she's promoted to CHIEF designer, she is offered an office which belongs to a manager that has worked there for forever..she "graciously" declines. You PROMOTE your son-in-law to senior business and sales DIRECTOR! You take my year-long idea for pushing to have weekly once-a-week meetings with all designers to catch up on deadlines for the week and get your CHIEF designer to implement it under her name. Couldn't you just laugh? or would you cry?
Suddenly, the lynching begins. Me and senior designer become the blacksheep overnight. We just didn't follow ALL the rules. Basically, we had the same idea. What qualifies you to be in this position of power. Is it old fashioned thinking to say that you earn respect and not demand it because of family ties? Or was it because we just couldn't stand ugly people? I mean we are in the asethetic business in some ways.
That didn't feel so great but my only solace is in the fact that when your boss starts taking it out of the people that slog and put in that much time and effort to finish projects in tight deadlines then it's a sign that things are not going well for the company. It just means that we just need to give it about 2 years to see the havock.
It's quite ironic that I do feel bad about the sack carriers and ball suckers that give it a few more months, try to work for a year and see if you're lucky enough to actually have such a strong standing in the same company that is so quick to shoot dead the infantry that is fighting the war for you.
Of course, at the end of the day, I do tell everyone that I have no hard feelings about all this shit.
There's half an ounce of truth to the statement. I hate them, those memories, but I'm also so glad that they've happened.
But the fear of another new FUCK UP will happen again.
And this time, what is going to happen next?
I wait and see.
Not just me but both me and a senior designer both.
Why? well it's not been fun working for a cheating company that swindles clients in the pretext of an interior design company.
I mean when you buy a bulb, you would expect a bulb made of bulb material rather than a picture of one.
And when you are actually the "managing director" of an interior design company, you would expect to have some form of aesthetic appreciation, or even just basically know how to design stuff?
Mistreating your staff and shouting them and throwing paper at them is also not such a professional thing to do.
Right now I am totally tired out on having to deal with these types of people.
This whole year in general has been a great upheaval of all that I believe in.
Love, family, pets, friends and work.
The famous 5 things that you have to somehow find some kind of balance and each one of them all at once competing for equal placement in your life.
How do you choose which is more important? or do you just give them 2nd runner up placement to the most important thing - your own SELF.
Read more Ayn Rand and her theory of objectivism. If you're not happy doing something (after rationally evalutating the situation) then you're basically not happy.
And I am not happy.
Today was the last day for my senior designer and man am I gonna miss working with someone that I have the balls to face off in design.
It's 2 more weeks to go till I FUCK OFF from that fucking company.
14 days to get something else on track.
Freelance? It's gonna take time to get shit in to earn the cash.
Take a break? Gotta pay rent and shit.
Take up that tattoo course in Thailand? What if I get an immediate job offer and they're paying me really well?
I could drive a taxi? well i could but there's a 1000 dollar deposit for when you actually want to hire the taxi. and i don't want to bump into the idiot ghosts out there.
I could pack my bags and fly off to thailand or cambodia and find a job there? Well I could if i had enough cash saved up.. could still be in my plans over the next 2 years.
Could I still try for Canada? well the list is not out yet for the following year. It's not singapore where we let everyone and anyone in. Let's hope they're looking for architectural technologists/artists to migrate there.
Also, being 33 has never been easy. Years 30 to 32 were basically a blur. Partly due to the fucking excuse for a relationship (I asked for it, the fucking sadistic self). I live for other's dreams. Now the spotlight is on myself and I have to answer tough questions about the big five.
I kinda feel that at this point of time, the next job i hold will be the LAST job I will actually have for the next 2 years.
It's a cycle. all jobs for me have lasted 1.5 years to 3 years.
I don't have a fantastic job track record in the past.
Fucked up my art tutor stint, mostly due to the idiotic head we had at the time who when highlighted to her that she was obviously menstruating in class in front of everyone and stained the chair she was sitting on, got up and said " ah, i'll change it later". And of course it wasn't easy dating a student who, on your first week of school, got so angry with you for taking the MRT with your own BROTHER that she screamed, pulled your hair into the ceramic studio, getting into a physical fight, tried to stab her own hand with a ceramic needle tool and made you smash your new samsung clamshell phone with the Marilyn Manson "sweet dreams" tune that you loved.
Fucked up my other job at the architectural stint. I just didn't care about how much of the land an owner bought could actually be used to build the fucking house, I didn't care anymore that staircase risers and treads were 150 - 175mm max and 250mm min. accordingly. I didn't care that the swimming pool couldn't be built over a soil pipe carrying shit for all the other houses. I didn't care anymore that so and so didn't "approve" of this or that and that owners bought their land at so many millions of dollars and had to pay so many extra millions of fucking dollars to do this or that and fuck all. I just didn't CARE ANYMORE. This is the land of regulated red tape and the heaven of rules.
Fucked up my current job - well this one I can say I didn't fuck it up at all! I was good at it. I fucking loved it. But blaming me for putting out a shoddy 3d model (whipped up in 10 hours with no sleep) to a non-confirmed client and saying you were embarrassed by it is not a valid fact. Telling me I should stick to my architectural works and not do anymore design is FUCKING BULLCRAP. I'll fucking design your goddamned gravestone you hypocritical Christian cock-sucking senile wannabe designer of a boss. Shove it up your glory hole and if there is a "GOD"; the same god you worship every sunday at church, I hope he seriously gives you the gift of conscience so hard and fast, you remember how much pain you caused your own mother when she forced you out of her own body that you commit the ultimate sin and DIE.
First, you put your tyre-rim selling salesperson son-in-law as the senior manager of the company, your daughter is the QS and your wife is the director, although she doesn't show up 90% of the time. Then your son-in-law makes life so bad that within the 1st 2 months, 2 staff quit because of direct comments he made about firing them.
Then you shift the whole fucking company into an office 1.5 hours away from everyone's house, right smack in bukit merah. Then you buy season parking for all the idiots that have rooms / offices in the company. You promote several people just to make your company look like its heading somewhere. Then you hire an overweight designer who pitches 1 fucking job and wins it and suddenly all previous efforts made by your other designers are crap.
To boost the company profile you hire 2 business development managers: 1 idiotic senior manager with 11 YEARS of experience who wears mustard yellow and chrimson red pants. you hire your NIECE as a marketing personnel. Within 3 weeks of establishing a business unit, you shift your son-in-law and daughter (who are married and have procreated), into the sales and business team. You SACK the senior business development manager and focus on the 1 manager for leads.
Then you beg an ex-staff who your son-in-law caused to resign, to come back and promises him a new senior position, you offer him an assistant. Then your son-in-law does it again! the overweight star designer becomes a target for his office politics. he causes her to QUIT! she throws the letter in.
Within a week, she's promoted to CHIEF designer, she is offered an office which belongs to a manager that has worked there for forever..she "graciously" declines. You PROMOTE your son-in-law to senior business and sales DIRECTOR! You take my year-long idea for pushing to have weekly once-a-week meetings with all designers to catch up on deadlines for the week and get your CHIEF designer to implement it under her name. Couldn't you just laugh? or would you cry?
Suddenly, the lynching begins. Me and senior designer become the blacksheep overnight. We just didn't follow ALL the rules. Basically, we had the same idea. What qualifies you to be in this position of power. Is it old fashioned thinking to say that you earn respect and not demand it because of family ties? Or was it because we just couldn't stand ugly people? I mean we are in the asethetic business in some ways.
That didn't feel so great but my only solace is in the fact that when your boss starts taking it out of the people that slog and put in that much time and effort to finish projects in tight deadlines then it's a sign that things are not going well for the company. It just means that we just need to give it about 2 years to see the havock.
It's quite ironic that I do feel bad about the sack carriers and ball suckers that give it a few more months, try to work for a year and see if you're lucky enough to actually have such a strong standing in the same company that is so quick to shoot dead the infantry that is fighting the war for you.
Of course, at the end of the day, I do tell everyone that I have no hard feelings about all this shit.
There's half an ounce of truth to the statement. I hate them, those memories, but I'm also so glad that they've happened.
But the fear of another new FUCK UP will happen again.
And this time, what is going to happen next?
I wait and see.
Recreating "real" beauty
The truth about THAT 15-year-old human Barbie from South London who (with her mother's approval) has become a disturbing internet phenomenon
Internet sensation: 15-year-old Venus Palermo dresses like a living doll and shares her image tips with her online fans, all with the support of her mother Margaret, right
Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2136332/Venus-Palermo-The-truth-15-year-old-human-Barbie-South-London.html#ixzz2CJP7YxYq
Follow us: @MailOnline on Twitter | DailyMail on Facebook
Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2136332/Venus-Palermo-The-truth-15-year-old-human-Barbie-South-London.html#ixzz2CJP7YxYq
Follow us: @MailOnline on Twitter | DailyMail on Facebook
Anastasiya Shpagina
Ukranian Valeria Lukyanova
Both "dolls" together
WHY? seriously why?
Artist Noel Cruz repaints the faces of dolls to look more like the real deal. He’s done character dolls from many series like Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, Twilight, and even real-life people like Marilyn Monroe, Angelina Jolie, and Steve Carrell. All of them are truly impressive and worth a look.
Give me a tattooed beautiful girl anyday anytime.
Sexiness.
At the end of the day, you gotta ask yourself when to draw the line or whether you even have a line to cross at all.
Sunday, 19 August 2012
one of my favourite things
it's just 1 so far.. limited edition timberland oxford style high cut boots
$150/= come to papa next month.. for sure..
SO SEXY
Recently re-discovered LaRoux. i kinda heard their stuff some time back but didn't really look at their videos.. then went on to listen to their dubstep remixes. and yesterday after watching Never Mind the Buzzcocks, got reminded of their song In for The Kill. so ya.. Elly Jackson, my goodness. she is absolutely amazing. the voice, her style and that fucking hair! plus kudos to her for dressing so androgynously. anyways the video below is I'm Not your Toy live at Abbey Road which i like better then In for the kill.. anyways.. hail the electronic revival goddess..
I'm not your toy by La Roux
in for the kill Abbey road sessions by La Roux
my personal favourite performance version of the song.
We can fight our desires
But when we start making fires
We get ever so hot
Whether we like it or not
They say we can love who we trust
But what is love without lust?
Two hearts with accurate devotions
And what are feelings without emotions?
I'm going in for the kill
I'm doing it for a thrill
Oh I'm hoping you'll understand
And not let go of my hand
(x2)
I hang my hopes out on the line
Will they be ready for you in time
If you leave them out too long
They'll be withered by the sun
Full stops and exclamation marks
My words stumble before I start
How far can you send emotions?
Can this bridge cross the ocean?
I'm going in for the kill
I'm doing it for a thrill
Oh I'm hoping you'll understand
And not let go of my hand
(x2)
Let's go to war
To make peace
Let's be cold
To create heat
I hope in darkness
We can see
And you're not blinded by the light from me
I'm going in for the kill
I'm doing it for a thrill
Oh I'm hoping you'll understand
And not let go of my hand
But when we start making fires
We get ever so hot
Whether we like it or not
They say we can love who we trust
But what is love without lust?
Two hearts with accurate devotions
And what are feelings without emotions?
I'm going in for the kill
I'm doing it for a thrill
Oh I'm hoping you'll understand
And not let go of my hand
(x2)
I hang my hopes out on the line
Will they be ready for you in time
If you leave them out too long
They'll be withered by the sun
Full stops and exclamation marks
My words stumble before I start
How far can you send emotions?
Can this bridge cross the ocean?
I'm going in for the kill
I'm doing it for a thrill
Oh I'm hoping you'll understand
And not let go of my hand
(x2)
Let's go to war
To make peace
Let's be cold
To create heat
I hope in darkness
We can see
And you're not blinded by the light from me
I'm going in for the kill
I'm doing it for a thrill
Oh I'm hoping you'll understand
And not let go of my hand
Saturday, 18 August 2012
LIKE... PROPER FOOD AND FURBALLS
mum's nasi lemak with sambal prawns..
still feel like i should have slapped him when i could have after the dinner.
Mr. Fuzzball having a nap in mum's sarong. Kinda sad he's leached onto my mum since i left. but anyways they both suit each other. both extremely loving but with overly extreme mood swings and a "fuck off if you dont like it" attitude.
breakfast the following day.. well actually brunch at my place.. i call it the english fry up. on a sunday whilst its raining outside?.. heaven.
FOOD
My flatmate invited me to a "pop-up" dinner at some cafe in the middle of nowhere. apparently a little rich boy in university was trying to reach out to his middle class audience through the art of food.
dish 2: smoked salmon with a slice of cucumber thing, masala sauce with granola and horseradish wasabi looking thingy.
He (i am so tempted to name names here but since i'm never eating his fucking food again, i'll let it rest) would take over a restaurant for a few nights and cook up a storm (literally) for guest diners. eating at one of his cook ups involves a reservation on facebook and most recently, $35.00.
so we went. sat down and waited.
dish 1: black truffle balls with some ash thing
what did i think? brilliant. too bad it was just one spoonful.
(forgot to take photo because we were to bloody hungry)
dish 2: smoked salmon with a slice of cucumber thing, masala sauce with granola and horseradish wasabi looking thingy.
what did i think?: utter confusion!
didnt know what i was eating. couldnt taste the fucking salmon and was so disgusted with his decision to ruin a good piece of fish with the fucking GRANOLA! and the wasabi dollop of green shit was utterly redundant.
FAIL. He couldnt make up his fucking mind what experience he wanted his diners to have.
dish 3: beef cheek braised with (the memory of wanting to vomit is coming back to me as i say this) peanut paste and radish of some sort.
what did i think? well by the time we waited for this bloody dish, we were still starving like crazy. i'm not a fan of braised meat but the beef cheek here was pretty good. though braising for 12 hours.. hmm... i was not impressed. eating this was utterly painful because the peanut just washed all the flavours away. you couldnt enjoy the beef or the radish because they were already 2 powerful tastes and along he puts peanut paste. i mean seriously do you taste your food before you serve it? seriously? the radish was the best part of the dish.
dish 4: desert. passion fruit sauce thing with white chocolate thing and black sesame shortbread (the black thing)
what did i think? again he just doesnt know how to put food together. all the food here were excellent apart. put them together and yes.. you guessed it. PASSIONFRUIT PASSIONFRUIT PASSIONFRUIT. that's all you could taste.
this kid's got to straighten out his thoughts. he's like willy wonka in a kitchen.. only he looks shit next to johnny depp.
awwww...he was so sweet.. surprise dish 5! pear slices thingys with white chocolate lavendar scoops and candied walnuts with sprinkles of (puke) thyme.
what did i think? well this was the only dish besides the truffle that worked well together. but he fucked it up with the thyme. i was expecting to taste lamb somewhere.
overall a disappointing evening. stomache was so twisted with the food. never again. i dont know i might give him another chance. but for now.. i'm just waiting for my mum's cooking the next day..
Tuesday, 24 July 2012
I'm in a bind, Oh the stuff that binds us.. I could keep going.
Saw this on Gmarket the other night whilst shopping in the women's clothing section, looking for T-shirts and underwear. (I don't know why but guess it had to placed in a category)
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It looks like a brilliant binder.. material looks soft and comfy.. and then they show you how to put it on. Basically a string of these on one side. As you can see in the picture, its about 20cm long.
Imagine hooking every fucking one of them in the morning when your fingers don't work and you can't see properly even after a shower. If you've never worn a binder, you slide one arm into one arm hole then slide your head into the head hole and then you fix it at the sides. And because binders have to be tight, you can't assemble them first before sliding it on so basically good luck to anyone who bought it.
I know some butches that still use the tummy binders and layer them on with a sports bra. One of my ex-classmates is still doing it. And she was shocked when I told her that there's actually people making proper binders these days. Nothing wrong with them if that's your cup of tea but they're so uncomfortable and they roll up and down even with a bloody sports bra. Plus its in that fucking old woman who hasn't been fucked for 30 years BEIGE! If you're lucky, aunty might have the black ones but they were rare. sometimes they had a little LACE! Talk about irony. I know some of us need the tits to be strapped down, stappled if we could, so that nothing was visible. But seriously, men have chests that bulge so let some go and look natural. the flatter you are people are seriously gonna think you dropped them somewhere. AND HOW DO YOU BREATHE? think of your health la... tightening your chest means you bunch forward which makes you fucking short and a hunchback candidate.
I've tried the belly binders. You used to have to go to Chinatown to get the old school types. And the aunty wouldn't look you in the eyes when you lied to her about buying it for your mum whose belly-conscious. Ah.. the good old days. Butches were an underground sort.. not that mainstream and frowned upon. It was cool to be butch.
I would honestly recommend T-kingdom (http://www.t-kingdom.com). My very first binders were from them. Fucking lasted me 3 years straight until it started morphing into a tortoise's shell.
They've gotten abit expensive over the years and nice tagline: Serving Tomboys and FTMs since 1999. And the owner is a Taiwanese butch herself and they've gone international.
My first binder was the Model 690 cos it was the cheapest (USD $30.98)but still didn't disappoint. Can still remember how good it felt to finally have a secure harness to strap them water balloons in.
Then when it was time to get a new one, I found Peecock products. And I'm still wearing them still. Big benefit is of course that I can collect it locally from a hair salon shop in Far East Plaza or they mail it to you. The cheapest is USD$19 bucks but it's out of stock but even the one below is USD$29 and the affordability means you can buy more then 1 to alternate in the week.
Of course I'm guessing their name is peecock because they sell Pee-cocks. A peeing apparatus / packer for transmen. I wish sometimes I had one. guess it takes a bit of practice. but since i don't 100% identify as a man, I'll just make do with getting starred at in the female toilets. But good that they're here locally.. No more sock pant stuffing.
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I know some butches that still use the tummy binders and layer them on with a sports bra. One of my ex-classmates is still doing it. And she was shocked when I told her that there's actually people making proper binders these days. Nothing wrong with them if that's your cup of tea but they're so uncomfortable and they roll up and down even with a bloody sports bra. Plus its in that fucking old woman who hasn't been fucked for 30 years BEIGE! If you're lucky, aunty might have the black ones but they were rare. sometimes they had a little LACE! Talk about irony. I know some of us need the tits to be strapped down, stappled if we could, so that nothing was visible. But seriously, men have chests that bulge so let some go and look natural. the flatter you are people are seriously gonna think you dropped them somewhere. AND HOW DO YOU BREATHE? think of your health la... tightening your chest means you bunch forward which makes you fucking short and a hunchback candidate.
I've tried the belly binders. You used to have to go to Chinatown to get the old school types. And the aunty wouldn't look you in the eyes when you lied to her about buying it for your mum whose belly-conscious. Ah.. the good old days. Butches were an underground sort.. not that mainstream and frowned upon. It was cool to be butch.
I would honestly recommend T-kingdom (http://www.t-kingdom.com). My very first binders were from them. Fucking lasted me 3 years straight until it started morphing into a tortoise's shell.
They've gotten abit expensive over the years and nice tagline: Serving Tomboys and FTMs since 1999. And the owner is a Taiwanese butch herself and they've gone international.
My first binder was the Model 690 cos it was the cheapest (USD $30.98)but still didn't disappoint. Can still remember how good it felt to finally have a secure harness to strap them water balloons in.
Then when it was time to get a new one, I found Peecock products. And I'm still wearing them still. Big benefit is of course that I can collect it locally from a hair salon shop in Far East Plaza or they mail it to you. The cheapest is USD$19 bucks but it's out of stock but even the one below is USD$29 and the affordability means you can buy more then 1 to alternate in the week.
Of course I'm guessing their name is peecock because they sell Pee-cocks. A peeing apparatus / packer for transmen. I wish sometimes I had one. guess it takes a bit of practice. but since i don't 100% identify as a man, I'll just make do with getting starred at in the female toilets. But good that they're here locally.. No more sock pant stuffing.
I will NOT recommend buying from FTM at underworks. SUCK the big one.
Now this one looks promising. Also from Taiwan - Esha Girls Wear (http://www.esha-taipei.net/en) Nice designs. Just wished they used actual butches with actual breast problems and show how well they worked instead of showing models that were naturally gifted with tiny peeks. Price abit expensive but overall guess you pay for the quality - hopefully. Will browse and see what else they have... cute models.. that's always a good sign. OOH Their silent velcro supreme range comes in baby pink, baby blue, yellow and GREY! ahh.. so nice.
So anyways there it is.. there are so many others out there. I confess I've always wanted to see an out in the open butch/transmen shop run by, designed by and sold by handsome individuals who would kick the first sniggering man and bitch who came in cos they would be the minority for once; where binders of all kinds of colours, patterns and designs could be found; where clothes fit the imperfect female shape into sexy daper suits and ties and shoes! for those of us with dainty tiny feet tranforming them into manly arse kicking sized appendages.
Maybe someday. Keep dreaming the dream for now.It's time I go for a sleepy down now..
Peace out. Keep the tits tight.
Monday, 23 July 2012
It's a step backwards
well it's gone to shit.. i'm still in the office.. hahaha! so much for the promise to myself.
why am i so dedicated to my job? i have no fucking idea.
I finished work at 4am.. figured that i might as well forget about taking a cab home and watched Dylan Moran stand ups the whole rest of the morning.
It's good to have a (forgive me for saying) fat person in the office.. and no it's no me.. but ya fat people in the office have plenty of goodies on their table which is good when you're dying of hunger at 3am and you find little fishball crackers or cookies or chocolate fudge teeny sweeties lying around on their tables.
Fuck off..
anyways.. another hour and i can leave to take the bus and go all the way to fucking Kallang to drop off 8 CD's with tender drawings..
we'll see how the rest of the day goes.. probably have to swing by home to change my clothes and brush my teeth.
why am i so dedicated to my job? i have no fucking idea.
I finished work at 4am.. figured that i might as well forget about taking a cab home and watched Dylan Moran stand ups the whole rest of the morning.
It's good to have a (forgive me for saying) fat person in the office.. and no it's no me.. but ya fat people in the office have plenty of goodies on their table which is good when you're dying of hunger at 3am and you find little fishball crackers or cookies or chocolate fudge teeny sweeties lying around on their tables.
Fuck off..
anyways.. another hour and i can leave to take the bus and go all the way to fucking Kallang to drop off 8 CD's with tender drawings..
we'll see how the rest of the day goes.. probably have to swing by home to change my clothes and brush my teeth.
Sunday, 22 July 2012
Part 2
Tonight's torment: weight
"Wah what have you been doing? you putting on more and more weight.. why you need to wear so loose shirt?"
"you've put on ALOT of weight.. your thighs didn't use to be that big"
"What's wrong with you? you're supposed to be losing weight but everytime i see you, you got no change or putting on more"
"come with me on saturday.. we walk from yishun to ang mo kio.. you sure lose the weight.. at night don't eat.. just drink water."
yes i have put on weight. no thanks to my lifestyle. it is completely my lack of discipline and will power. my cross trainer and weight bench are sitting right next to my desk right now as we speak and i can't bring myself to do it.
i lost the most amount of weight during 3 phases in my life.
Post secondary school, after my parents divorced, i was eating monk food aka yoghurt and bread and cup noodles. i started swimming with my brother.
during poly days, i put on the weight again. when i got my first job, i signed up with Amore fitness (one of the first women's only gym) and then planet fitness, as it was known back then before the fucking true fitness took over. it's now taken over by some MMA club charging $500 per month for fucking defence classes. utter bullshit.
anyways, i developed my love for spinning classes from Amore and kept doing it at planet. i even woke up at 5:30 in the morning to hit the gym and then go off to work. it was great. i felt in control of my life. i felt grown up. later at Planet, i grew fond of weight machines like the leg press, calf raises, lat pull downs, etc.. i was still hitting the spinning classes. my body was in the best shape at this point.
After i quit my job, i went to NAFA and was ok for the first year. still the same size but after meeting the X, that's when the weight piled on again. i blame myself for letting her control every aspect of my life. i should have turned and run away when the minute i suggested we go out another day or meet up with my brother impromptu, and she started screaming and cutting herself... but i stayed for 7 years with her. half of it was for love, the other half i dont know. and we ate everything she wanted, anytime she wanted. she has hyper thyroid, so she doesn't have a fucking weight problem at all. i however, let her rule all decisions cos of fear she might relapse. food was a comfort to her. so i gave in. we ate everywhere. tried EVERYTHING. even when we weren't hungry. sad part about it was, she didn't bother to find out what i liked to eat. and didn't bother to ask.
after my break up with the X, i bought a cross trainer, free weights, a weight bench and gloves. i bought protein shakes, fat burners and read up on shit. this was mostly because i heard from a few friends and my brother about how they got over their relationships.
my NAFA mate said her buddies from work dragged her to the gym after she broke off with her girlfriend. another friend's brother had a bunch of friends buy him a gym membership and got him to go with them for gym sessions after his marriage broke up. my brother also started his body building phase after his breakup with his first girlfriend. and i took their advise.
so since i dont' have many friends, i bought the equipment myself and worked out at home or at the community gym. and it helped a shitload. my mind was pre-occupied with inflicting my body with physical pain and afterwards, i was too pissed tired to even cry myself to bed. i just knocked out. and my body was eating clean, home cooked (cos i was jobless then), chicken, water, veges.. i didnt drink, i smoked. it was perfect.
now my work is my life. i'm a design architect for an interior design company. i work with projects from 1.5 million dollars to about 8 million dollars - basically big ass projects. i spruce up old buildings for a property owner and the job requires alot of co-ordination, detailing and design concepts. we also pitch for goverment jobs which come with tight deadlines.
my entire team consists of me and my assistant cad support, a gentle fillipino dude that's the greatest cad specialist and i am so lucky to have as my whole team cos he does shitloads. i'm on my seat at 10 minutes intervals before i have to move to my senior designer's desk or my cad guy's desk or the 3d visualizer's desk.
but they're all in a 5 metre radius. i have chicken rice almost everyday cos the food at bukit merah SUCKS!!!! by the time i get home, i am physically tired, mentally wiped out and hungry. so i cook whatever i have in the fridge at 10pm which is the normal time i get home, i eat, i drink water, i chat with my flatmate, we watch some shows, i smoke about 5 cigarettes, bathe and plunge into bed by 1am. i am mostly late for work the next day cos i roll over at 8am and i just hear my mind say " i don't want to go to work today".
it's a sad state to be in because its now that i have to start forming the body that will carry me through the 40's, 50's and 60's. after that, we'll see if i'm still alive. so i guess, its time to cut down the work commitment cos i think i've proved myself enough in the year that i've been with the company.
what bums me the most is my wardrobe has been reduced slowly to about 30% of my entire closet. i am feeling the weight effect.. the thighs feel tired, i'm breathless, i feel so down cos i wear the same shit every day rotated over and over again. i DON'T buy into being confident about my body even as whatever size i'm at because i have been slim, i have been tight and now i'm flabby, and bulging which seriously, i don't see how that can improve anyone's confidence. and no, i am not happy with i've got. that's nonsense. i've got small joints, i've got equipment to exercise with, i've got my own place with a room twice the size of what i used to live in. i've got a gym downstairs. i've got to meet clients with a professional outlook. i've got a fucking DOUBLE CHIN! kill me kill me now.
currently my stats are as follows: (note to self: i hope you're happy. move that ass!!! no fucking excuses anymore!)
"Wah what have you been doing? you putting on more and more weight.. why you need to wear so loose shirt?"
"you've put on ALOT of weight.. your thighs didn't use to be that big"
"What's wrong with you? you're supposed to be losing weight but everytime i see you, you got no change or putting on more"
"come with me on saturday.. we walk from yishun to ang mo kio.. you sure lose the weight.. at night don't eat.. just drink water."
yes i have put on weight. no thanks to my lifestyle. it is completely my lack of discipline and will power. my cross trainer and weight bench are sitting right next to my desk right now as we speak and i can't bring myself to do it.
i lost the most amount of weight during 3 phases in my life.
Post secondary school, after my parents divorced, i was eating monk food aka yoghurt and bread and cup noodles. i started swimming with my brother.
during poly days, i put on the weight again. when i got my first job, i signed up with Amore fitness (one of the first women's only gym) and then planet fitness, as it was known back then before the fucking true fitness took over. it's now taken over by some MMA club charging $500 per month for fucking defence classes. utter bullshit.
anyways, i developed my love for spinning classes from Amore and kept doing it at planet. i even woke up at 5:30 in the morning to hit the gym and then go off to work. it was great. i felt in control of my life. i felt grown up. later at Planet, i grew fond of weight machines like the leg press, calf raises, lat pull downs, etc.. i was still hitting the spinning classes. my body was in the best shape at this point.
After i quit my job, i went to NAFA and was ok for the first year. still the same size but after meeting the X, that's when the weight piled on again. i blame myself for letting her control every aspect of my life. i should have turned and run away when the minute i suggested we go out another day or meet up with my brother impromptu, and she started screaming and cutting herself... but i stayed for 7 years with her. half of it was for love, the other half i dont know. and we ate everything she wanted, anytime she wanted. she has hyper thyroid, so she doesn't have a fucking weight problem at all. i however, let her rule all decisions cos of fear she might relapse. food was a comfort to her. so i gave in. we ate everywhere. tried EVERYTHING. even when we weren't hungry. sad part about it was, she didn't bother to find out what i liked to eat. and didn't bother to ask.
after my break up with the X, i bought a cross trainer, free weights, a weight bench and gloves. i bought protein shakes, fat burners and read up on shit. this was mostly because i heard from a few friends and my brother about how they got over their relationships.
my NAFA mate said her buddies from work dragged her to the gym after she broke off with her girlfriend. another friend's brother had a bunch of friends buy him a gym membership and got him to go with them for gym sessions after his marriage broke up. my brother also started his body building phase after his breakup with his first girlfriend. and i took their advise.
so since i dont' have many friends, i bought the equipment myself and worked out at home or at the community gym. and it helped a shitload. my mind was pre-occupied with inflicting my body with physical pain and afterwards, i was too pissed tired to even cry myself to bed. i just knocked out. and my body was eating clean, home cooked (cos i was jobless then), chicken, water, veges.. i didnt drink, i smoked. it was perfect.
now my work is my life. i'm a design architect for an interior design company. i work with projects from 1.5 million dollars to about 8 million dollars - basically big ass projects. i spruce up old buildings for a property owner and the job requires alot of co-ordination, detailing and design concepts. we also pitch for goverment jobs which come with tight deadlines.
my entire team consists of me and my assistant cad support, a gentle fillipino dude that's the greatest cad specialist and i am so lucky to have as my whole team cos he does shitloads. i'm on my seat at 10 minutes intervals before i have to move to my senior designer's desk or my cad guy's desk or the 3d visualizer's desk.
but they're all in a 5 metre radius. i have chicken rice almost everyday cos the food at bukit merah SUCKS!!!! by the time i get home, i am physically tired, mentally wiped out and hungry. so i cook whatever i have in the fridge at 10pm which is the normal time i get home, i eat, i drink water, i chat with my flatmate, we watch some shows, i smoke about 5 cigarettes, bathe and plunge into bed by 1am. i am mostly late for work the next day cos i roll over at 8am and i just hear my mind say " i don't want to go to work today".
it's a sad state to be in because its now that i have to start forming the body that will carry me through the 40's, 50's and 60's. after that, we'll see if i'm still alive. so i guess, its time to cut down the work commitment cos i think i've proved myself enough in the year that i've been with the company.
what bums me the most is my wardrobe has been reduced slowly to about 30% of my entire closet. i am feeling the weight effect.. the thighs feel tired, i'm breathless, i feel so down cos i wear the same shit every day rotated over and over again. i DON'T buy into being confident about my body even as whatever size i'm at because i have been slim, i have been tight and now i'm flabby, and bulging which seriously, i don't see how that can improve anyone's confidence. and no, i am not happy with i've got. that's nonsense. i've got small joints, i've got equipment to exercise with, i've got my own place with a room twice the size of what i used to live in. i've got a gym downstairs. i've got to meet clients with a professional outlook. i've got a fucking DOUBLE CHIN! kill me kill me now.
currently my stats are as follows: (note to self: i hope you're happy. move that ass!!! no fucking excuses anymore!)
- neck 14"
- bust 39" goddamit bitch!
- waist 38.5"
- mid hip 40.5"
- butt line 41"
- thigh 25"
- knee 17"
- calf 16"
- ankle 8.5"
so judging on the figures above, to reduce my heart attack chances, i have to kill the waist, mid hip and butt by about 4 to 6 inches down. i've never had a waist line, my hip and waist pretty much joins up so its gonna be even throughout.
i've given myself 1 month to adjust back to exercise, and another 2 to see some results. and now i have even less excuses. there's a gym right downstairs, well a few units down. so next friday, i sign up with them for a monthly membership and i promise myself that i will leave work at 6:30 on the dot for 4 out of 5 days of the week to make it to the gym.
i'll keep myself posted here every week. motivation? well historically, my weight loss is due to emotional trauma or intense changes in my life. this time? well i guess hearing it outright from the mouths of people around me and the sheer embarrassment of being called FAT is enough for me.
gayfather is working out to work out.
Saturday, 21 July 2012
A New beginning
A New Beginning
It's been a year since i started this blog. It used to be a blog selling clothes that in my "fashionable" mind i felt other people should buy but was in fact a blog that i started to get over a relationship so... ya i figured that it wasn't such a great idea and not something that should be left as evidence of a glitch in my psychological state of mind.
Well anyways, i think it would be good to actually have this as my own records cos i'm 33 now, and i am gay (note to self: yes you are and have always been) and i am feeling the pressure to have some kind of record of my life cos unfortunately, its at this point in life that you start experiencing the signs of aging, e.g. memory loss, joint aches and pains, the desire to sit in one spot for long periods of time, preferring the bus over the trains, etc.. and also, just in case i lose my memory from some accident or physical anomoly. and fuck it, you ARE old when you start passing the 30 mark. also, I just read another american butch's blog and I honestly felt it was crap and i could do a better job at describing what it feels like to be this bent in Singapore. I secretly want to see if this blog actually helps to sort my thoughts out post-psycho days. the psycho is of course my ex-girlfriend. (note to self: it was 7 years of hell and you ended it mostly because she was in fact a crazy abusive woman who didn't please you in bed or out of it and was cheating on you in the last month of the relationship. you almost 'killed' yourself, lost the years, spent thousands on her, lost 2 great jobs and almost your sanity but you knew it was the best thing to do. that was 1 year ago. you are much better now. and things have gotten better and will continue to be that way. reminder to self: date a girl first before fucking her and dont be afraid to be honest and tell someone you dont love her; don't EVER lose your autonomy again EVER!)
loving this song - alex clare too close
it pretty much sums it all up for me. dont' you wish you could end relationships like this? its more civil and easier on the heart.
it pretty much sums it all up for me. dont' you wish you could end relationships like this? its more civil and easier on the heart.
(note to self: you are so into dubstep right now, that's all you're listening to on your iphone)
i'm gonna be finding my writing pace eventually but this will be undoubtedly mine and it will be written by me: GAYFATHER (note to self: you and your brother one night came up with an impromptu insult for each other: your father is gay! it was hilarious at that time cos we were in the father-hating years but therein lies the origin of the name gayfather, by which i am affectionately referred to by few select individuals).
i miss my cat "mr. fuzzball" so much but i dread going back home. my old room, my mum's house, the neighbourhood, the people at the shops; they have too many memories that it's still subconsciously so difficult to go back there for more than a day.
For now, it's a new beginning, once i get it all out, there will be no more thinking of her, referring to past events or unpleasant memories about her and most of all, forgiving myself. it's about time i did something for myself. On a side note: I'm out of cigarettes AGAIN!! continue tomorrow otherwise i'm gonna have to walk to the nearest cheers to get nicotine.
(note to self: after finishing the millenium trilogy you are so into Noomi Rapace's looks and that awesome body, you will spend the next 6 months pumping and gyming to achieve a semblance of this sexiness. of course next step is a tattoo but not necessarily a dragon because you always fancied a japanese chest plate design, something Yakuza-like that will freak mum out.. sweet)
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