Readers beware.
This is a true story about the fight between good and evil, about perseverence and the will to carry on. It is about humanity, it is about spirit. But most of all, it is about magic. And that is why, dear readers, reading this will not exactly be a walk in the park.
Sure, most of us are used to magical fantasies and find it easy to read or write them. That is because magic happens in a galaxy far, far away. Or in middle earth. Or beyond the yellow brick road. Or in Hogwarts. Or on the fortress planet Zircon 5. See thing is, Zircon 5 is much like the tabla player in Marilyn Manson - non-existent. The rest of those locales wouldn't smell reality even if it farted, and that is why magic is always so tolerable.
Because it is so disconnected from our reality. We can comfortably read magic so long as we know that we would not be zapped to Bangladesh by Emperor Palpatine's Sith Lightning. Or if the Uruk-Hai start to give Al-Qaeda a run for its money.
What if magic seeped into the fabric of reality and becomes something tangible, something so real that we can no longer leave it in the backwaters of fiction? So real we cannot ignore it? And what if magic seeped into...Singapore?
Sure Holywood tried to fuse magic with real life in movies like Last Action Hero and the 2-hour long Neverending Story. But you know that in the end, they're just movies as real as Indonesian democracy.
Magic in Singapore, however, is a lot more impossible than that. Magic in Singapore is like American democracy.
See, in the usual circumstances, you need a bunch of weird people, bright ethereal lights, and long cylindrical objects, like staves or wands, to facilitate the existence of magic.
Singapore has no weird people, except those in Hwa Chong Institution; even they study the exact opposite of magic - Communism. Bright ethereal lights would cost too much with PUB in charge. And the only long cylindrical magical object Singapore has is in my pants.
To top all that, magic in its purest, non-Ronald McDonald-at-children's-parties form is not allowed to properly develop in Singapore. Wiccans in Singapore will find that their religion/cult/lifestyle is not legally recognised here, despite a populous following. Singapore only accepts two Wiccans: Saturday and Sunday.
I paint to you a bleak picture for the existence of magic in Singapore, but I assure you; in the tale that is Fracture Lecture, it is indeed very possible...
Saturday, May 21, 2005
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Peter Pan
"Define 'specimen'."
"A reason to see a prostitute?"
I am one distracted guy.
Bothered, uncomfortable; awkward.
Perhaps fearful of bringing my mind to the present, to the here and now.
Why? I know not.
Maybe I'm just scared I'll...grow up.
Ah...growing up.
I remember when that started.
It was when I first fell in love.
Oh those wistful days...
I was 14, she was 14. November brought with it a cool breeze and the lazy days of the year's end.
She wanted to soothe the pains of the world.
I wanted to make it smile.
She was the sweetest, most caring girl I knew.
It didn't hurt that she was very pretty and had a smile lovelier than anything I could imagine.
Her smile pierced me, melted me.
And I could make her smile.
Yes, I was in love, and the world was singing with me.
Alas, her heart belonged to another.
But it was a relationship that was very strained.
His young restless soul could not settle on one person to love.
The relationship was unstable and overt on the dramatics.
From my perspective, she was being badly mistreated.
I wanted to show her true love.
I wanted to surprise her after school , flowers in hand.
And I give them to her. She put her nose close to them.
She smiles. I feel weak and helpless, but ecstatic.
We go out for a movie. She rests her head on my shoulders as we watch.
Love so electric courses through my body.
As we eat after that, I share with her my life.
I learn more about her, and I only fall deeper.
I laugh with her.
Night chases away the light of day.
I am not fearful, for she is by my side.
I take her to a beach, and we take a stroll along the shore, accompanied by the caress of gentle waves and the romance of the moon and the stars.
We stop.
I looked into those eyes. Those tired eyes.
Eyes that have seen so much that sadden, that burden.
I gently kiss them, a light brush of my lips.
She opens her eyes, and looks up. She gazes into my face.
Searching for an answer.
I give it to her.
"I love you."
"When I first spoke to you at Crown Plaza, I already loved you."
"And I love you even more now."
"I want to take care of you, hold you when the shadows of this world bear down upon you."
"I want to show you how beautiful this world can be."
"And you are the most beautiful thing in this world to me."
We are alone. Silent fireworks in the background. The waves come slower.
The moon and the stars shine brighter.
She looks so much more beautiful as my face draws nearer to hers.
The world rushes past. It is just me and her.
We kiss, slow and gentle.
But that never happened.
She continued her relationship with the other man, and I grew desperate and erratic.
I tried to get a response, but she did not give any.
She stayed on with him.
He strayed...She stayed on with him.
He disrespected her, she stayed on with him.
I watched from the sides, too weak to cut in.
Insecurities bloomed in me. It was a disease, spreading on the inside.
I kept it in. Facades, fakeness.
And since then, I never felt real.
Unless I grow up. And that means facing the insecurities that I have lived with since the day I turned away from her.
Sunday, April 17, 2005
Highly Recommended Music: The Great Escape by Blur
You are Blur. Youre daring, fun, and a breath of
fresh air. Some people may find you
intimidating, but generally youre well liked.
You have a tendency to speak without thinking,
which usually comes back to bite you in the
arse but you have a good heart and everything
you say should be taken with a pinch of salt.
Which Britpop Band Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
The Great Escape
Blur
Food Records
1995
Click here for lyrics
Track Listing
1.Stereotypes*
2.Country House*
3.Best Days
4.Charmless Man*
5.Fade Away
6.Top Man
7.The Universal*
8.Mr. Robinson's Quango
9.He Thought of Cars
10.It Could Be You*
11.Ernold Same
12.Globe Alone*
13.Dan Abnormal
14.Entertain Me
15.Yuko and Hiro
(* = Highly recommended)
Think this: British; brilliant music, happy tunes, decent level of drugs and alcohol; gorillas. What's the first thing that comes to your head? 'British' and 'gorillas' will make you think of the Spice Girls, but then, there's 'brilliant music'. 'Happy tunes' rules out Radiohead and The Killers. 'Decent level of drugs and alcohol' rules out a whole host of artistes, from Oasis to Beck, with the Sex Pistols in between.
What else is there except the happy-go-lucky, effervescent, pre-Tender sounds of Blur. The Great Escape is Blur's fourth excursion following the similarly-happy, potent trio of 1991's Leisure, Modern Life Is Rubbish in 1993 and Parklife following that. In this album, Damon Albarn's maturity in terms of songwriting really shines through, though the album is darker and bleaker than its predecessors.
The tunes, however, remain catchy and upbeat, with It Could Be You, Charmless Man, Country House and Stereotypes being significant examples. However, they are ironically negative, lyrically. It Could Be You donates a few lines to Damon's need to lament about the dog-eat-dog world of the Music Industry (No silver spoon/Sticky teeth, they rot too soon/You’ve got to have the best tunes/Or that’s it/You’ve blown it); Charmless Man, if you read the lyrics without having the tune in your head, suggests Damon's insecurity and jealousy towards a wealthy, rather awkward person who is nonetheless learned. Stereotypes denounces desperately perverse, horny people and Country House is well, just...wrong. Which sane, socially-accepting mind would rhyme balzac and prozac and moan, "blow, blow me out, I am so sad, I don’t know why" in a song? This album really foreshadows Damon's foray into Song 2 territory (I got my head checked/By a jumbo jet).
What is really disappointing to us consumers is that the release of this album is overshadowed by Blur's rivalry with Oasis, making for hype-defyingly disappointing sales for what is otherwise a fantastic album that rather properly defines Britpop.
Overall rating: 7.5/10
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Why Is There An Empty Seat Behind?
This is due to the prognosis of a laterally-increasing subconjugation of a minefield in a septeganarian era. As proposed by countless scholars in the field of audiotechnology, a symmetrical line of perpetuated dimensions may overtake the metaphysical states of the subject, therefore increasing its density threefold. To substitute such a large amount of bipods will be rather difficult, and would render many weary and fatigued. That is why the alkaline inclination of the overlayed substance does not follow the azimuth of time and standstill.
Given that 4.67≥σ, 83, 6«₧89/0.538k-5¿“panty‘ is the theoretrical statement for the subject matter, it is only clear that sin 56.8▲p,5>6v cos 56.4╨ is the solution that these learned men have searched for, barring the Third Law of Gyrotronics, which is for every turn of the wheel, 5.88millevolts of current will pass through the transformer. The amperes is given by A=90mP + 34╓. Glycerol is an important factor in the fermentation of the plankton raggaeton, giving life to the hedonisation of severed portions.
And that is why there is an empty seat behind.
Given that 4.67≥σ, 83, 6«₧89/0.538k-5¿“panty‘ is the theoretrical statement for the subject matter, it is only clear that sin 56.8▲p,5>6v cos 56.4╨ is the solution that these learned men have searched for, barring the Third Law of Gyrotronics, which is for every turn of the wheel, 5.88millevolts of current will pass through the transformer. The amperes is given by A=90mP + 34╓. Glycerol is an important factor in the fermentation of the plankton raggaeton, giving life to the hedonisation of severed portions.
And that is why there is an empty seat behind.
Friday, March 18, 2005
Idiot's Guide To Get Into Jail
Self-Insult Of The Day: O O F!!?? With those kinda grades and this kinda skin colour, I might as well go to jail!
In most parts of the world, Singapore included, crimes are deterred in the most stupid way ever: by sending wrongdoers to jail. Why is it stupid? Hell, because most people who end up in jail have better lives there. Other than like, politicians and Martha Stewart, everybody's going to jail a more glamorous person.
Before getting thrown into jail, these guys had two jobs to afford their daily dose of crack. Or, they were so poor they had to steal and got caught to get their asses in jail. You know how desperately poor you have to be to steal and get caught in SISCO-protected Singapore? We're talking about low crime-rate Singapore, where everybody's retired uncle is a security guard.
Now, these buggers have it way better in prison. Free lodging, free food. Free clothes. They get into protective cliques. It's basically junior college, with gay anal sex.
Does jail sound highly attractive to you, you freeloading nitbitch? Then follow these foolproof steps to get your ass in jail, without having to kill, steal or perform any crime that puts someone else at a less fortunate disposition than you.
The Singaporean Protest
The Singaporean Protest is much like The Britney Spears Singing - it is against the law. Citing 'disruption of public peace' as its lameass excuse, the Singaporean government has prohibited its citizens from expressing their views on its policies, whether verbal or with picket signs. Instead, the PAP gives its people the loneliest piece of land on this Earth - Speaker's Corner. If there's anyway to satisfy a political activist's need to talk and ensure he is not heard, it is by giving them Speaker's Corner at lonely-ass Hong Lim Park. Anybody who speaks out of place and with a non-approved topic (or protest) gets jailed.
So hey, what other easy, fun way is there to get into jail other than protesting about ANYTHING you want? And I mean ANYTHING. From the random (go outside McDonald's and decry taxis) to the pop-cultural ("NO MORE WHITE FEMALE RAPPER-WANNABES! GO BACK TO ELEMENTARY SCHOOL JOJO!") to the environmental ("LEVEL BUKIT TIMAH AND USE THE LAND FOR RECLAMATION INTO MALAYSIA!") to the political ("SCREW NATIONAL SERVICE!"), ANYTHING. Just make enough noise to be a nuisance, attract the police and ultimately, land your drug-high ass in jail. And more importantly, have fun doing so.
Public Nudity
No sex please, we're Singaporean. Singapore is no place for streakers. Public nudity gets you in jail. In other countries, it just gets you manhandled and a polite reminder to re-clothe yourself. But here in Singapore, it is outlawed. The expression of your complete comfort in your own skin is treated with the same tolerance as stealing. But hey, whatever gets you imprisoned right?
Streaking and public nudity is usually carried out at protests or sporting events, where the extreme rush of adrenaline makes it 'seem like a good idea at the time'. But if you wanna be different, try these:
Streak in parliament. All those important politicians, that obvious breach of security... You're gonna stay in prison so long you'll get one of them lameass jailbird nicknames like "Smokey The Bitch".
Pose like Raffles next to Raffles' statue....nude. I don't see a solid reason why, but hey, it's fun.
Go out to the streets and thrust your naked crotch at all the kids you see. Public nudity, paedophilic inclinations, sexual harassment... That's two generations of taxpayers' cash you're gonna freeload in prison. Simply divine, isn't it?
For The Brave (Or Really High)
Step 1: Carjack a um, car.
Step 2: SPEED. Past the traffic police headquarters. I think a bunch of police cars will start chasing you.
Step 3: Initiate a car chase, with one hand on the wheel and the other giving those donut-eating bastards the finger.
Step 4: Stop suddenly, making them zoom past your "car". When they come out of their cars, check your watch and yawn. Tap your fingers, if you have time.
Step 5: They say: "License and registration, please". You give: "McDonald's Student's Discount Card."
Step 6: They say: "You were speeding on a non-expressway road." You say: "And oh aren't we tortoises while we were chasing me to fucking Malaysia! I CAN'T STAND THIS! HYPOCRITES! BE GONE!" Then try to convulse like you're having fits.
Step 7: Stop the act and laugh at those dumbasses. Roll all over the car. Call them idiots.
Step 8: Very likely, they're gonna take you out of the car analyze your breath for alcohol. KISS THE BREATH ANALYZER. Make your tongue obvious in all that action.
Step 9: They realise you're not drunk, but relax, they'll arrest you still. They say: "You're under arrest, you have the right to remain silent, blah, blah, blah..." You say: "I have the right to remain silent? Well, I'll make sure your momma won't remain silent in bed tonight, bitch! I'm gonna show her what this love machine can do. I'm gonna (point to officer) do your momma, (point to another officer) I'm gonna eat roast pork off your wife, (point to another officer) I'm gonna wedgie your dad and you, (point to the fattest donut of the lot), I'm gonna get you a fitness instructor. Has anyone ever called you Porky? (Police pride will make them say 'No') No? Well, they should, cos you're a pig.
Step 10: At the court, when the judge gives his verdict and tells you how long you stay in jail, say this: "Hey, before I go, two things: Haircut, and black dye."
You'd end up in jail a happy man. For a long, long time.
In most parts of the world, Singapore included, crimes are deterred in the most stupid way ever: by sending wrongdoers to jail. Why is it stupid? Hell, because most people who end up in jail have better lives there. Other than like, politicians and Martha Stewart, everybody's going to jail a more glamorous person.
Before getting thrown into jail, these guys had two jobs to afford their daily dose of crack. Or, they were so poor they had to steal and got caught to get their asses in jail. You know how desperately poor you have to be to steal and get caught in SISCO-protected Singapore? We're talking about low crime-rate Singapore, where everybody's retired uncle is a security guard.
Now, these buggers have it way better in prison. Free lodging, free food. Free clothes. They get into protective cliques. It's basically junior college, with gay anal sex.
Does jail sound highly attractive to you, you freeloading nitbitch? Then follow these foolproof steps to get your ass in jail, without having to kill, steal or perform any crime that puts someone else at a less fortunate disposition than you.
The Singaporean Protest
The Singaporean Protest is much like The Britney Spears Singing - it is against the law. Citing 'disruption of public peace' as its lameass excuse, the Singaporean government has prohibited its citizens from expressing their views on its policies, whether verbal or with picket signs. Instead, the PAP gives its people the loneliest piece of land on this Earth - Speaker's Corner. If there's anyway to satisfy a political activist's need to talk and ensure he is not heard, it is by giving them Speaker's Corner at lonely-ass Hong Lim Park. Anybody who speaks out of place and with a non-approved topic (or protest) gets jailed.
So hey, what other easy, fun way is there to get into jail other than protesting about ANYTHING you want? And I mean ANYTHING. From the random (go outside McDonald's and decry taxis) to the pop-cultural ("NO MORE WHITE FEMALE RAPPER-WANNABES! GO BACK TO ELEMENTARY SCHOOL JOJO!") to the environmental ("LEVEL BUKIT TIMAH AND USE THE LAND FOR RECLAMATION INTO MALAYSIA!") to the political ("SCREW NATIONAL SERVICE!"), ANYTHING. Just make enough noise to be a nuisance, attract the police and ultimately, land your drug-high ass in jail. And more importantly, have fun doing so.
Public Nudity
No sex please, we're Singaporean. Singapore is no place for streakers. Public nudity gets you in jail. In other countries, it just gets you manhandled and a polite reminder to re-clothe yourself. But here in Singapore, it is outlawed. The expression of your complete comfort in your own skin is treated with the same tolerance as stealing. But hey, whatever gets you imprisoned right?
Streaking and public nudity is usually carried out at protests or sporting events, where the extreme rush of adrenaline makes it 'seem like a good idea at the time'. But if you wanna be different, try these:
Streak in parliament. All those important politicians, that obvious breach of security... You're gonna stay in prison so long you'll get one of them lameass jailbird nicknames like "Smokey The Bitch".
Pose like Raffles next to Raffles' statue....nude. I don't see a solid reason why, but hey, it's fun.
Go out to the streets and thrust your naked crotch at all the kids you see. Public nudity, paedophilic inclinations, sexual harassment... That's two generations of taxpayers' cash you're gonna freeload in prison. Simply divine, isn't it?
For The Brave (Or Really High)
Step 1: Carjack a um, car.
Step 2: SPEED. Past the traffic police headquarters. I think a bunch of police cars will start chasing you.
Step 3: Initiate a car chase, with one hand on the wheel and the other giving those donut-eating bastards the finger.
Step 4: Stop suddenly, making them zoom past your "car". When they come out of their cars, check your watch and yawn. Tap your fingers, if you have time.
Step 5: They say: "License and registration, please". You give: "McDonald's Student's Discount Card."
Step 6: They say: "You were speeding on a non-expressway road." You say: "And oh aren't we tortoises while we were chasing me to fucking Malaysia! I CAN'T STAND THIS! HYPOCRITES! BE GONE!" Then try to convulse like you're having fits.
Step 7: Stop the act and laugh at those dumbasses. Roll all over the car. Call them idiots.
Step 8: Very likely, they're gonna take you out of the car analyze your breath for alcohol. KISS THE BREATH ANALYZER. Make your tongue obvious in all that action.
Step 9: They realise you're not drunk, but relax, they'll arrest you still. They say: "You're under arrest, you have the right to remain silent, blah, blah, blah..." You say: "I have the right to remain silent? Well, I'll make sure your momma won't remain silent in bed tonight, bitch! I'm gonna show her what this love machine can do. I'm gonna (point to officer) do your momma, (point to another officer) I'm gonna eat roast pork off your wife, (point to another officer) I'm gonna wedgie your dad and you, (point to the fattest donut of the lot), I'm gonna get you a fitness instructor. Has anyone ever called you Porky? (Police pride will make them say 'No') No? Well, they should, cos you're a pig.
Step 10: At the court, when the judge gives his verdict and tells you how long you stay in jail, say this: "Hey, before I go, two things: Haircut, and black dye."
You'd end up in jail a happy man. For a long, long time.
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Ohhhh.....
Mampus: the malay word for die; to kick the bucket; to snuff it.
Susu: the malay word for milk.
Combine them both... What do you get?
Mamsu.
Susu: the malay word for milk.
Combine them both... What do you get?
Mamsu.
Saturday, March 12, 2005
The Twilight Of My BMT
Insult of the day: Recruit 1: You know, I would look good if I had more hair
Me: Well see, there's still the issue of your face
5th March 2005: OOF!
HAPPY 55th BIRTHDAY DAD!
Alright, now for the stuff that's gonna make the birthday man an unhappy man.
When I sat for my A Level examinations, Elton John was more prepared to turn heterosexual than I was prepared to sit for them (A Levels, not heterosexuality). When I received my A Levels though, I was prepared; I knew what was coming ahead: An opportunity, a door opening to a whole new exciting realm of wonder; a door closed by the confines of the Singaporean syllabus.
OK, grades like O, O and F don't exactly sound like grades you should sound all off-hand and casual about, but hey, it's O O F in Maths, Chemistry and Economics. See, these subjects aren't very important in the next phase of my life.
Hell, I'm never gonna use A Level Mathematics anytime soon. MacLaurin's Series? Fuck that. I'm not even going anywhere near the MacGuyver series and they want me to learn that retarded cousin in the Quadratic Equation family.
Chemistry won't be too hot, either. It was crazily fun mixing chemicals, seeing their colour change, seeing precipitates form. Those SJI days of trying to make the most vigorous effervescence ever formed this side of sanity; those days are over.
Economics will probably be related, but hey, Economics works best for me as one of them Bedtime-Reading subjects. Those that you learn more out of if you don't have to prove how much you know in it to a bunch of old loony people in England.
Screw them. Long live Mass Communications!
8th March 2005: The Sun Sets On My Tekong
Tomorrow, it all comes to an end...
Me: Well see, there's still the issue of your face
5th March 2005: OOF!
HAPPY 55th BIRTHDAY DAD!
Alright, now for the stuff that's gonna make the birthday man an unhappy man.
When I sat for my A Level examinations, Elton John was more prepared to turn heterosexual than I was prepared to sit for them (A Levels, not heterosexuality). When I received my A Levels though, I was prepared; I knew what was coming ahead: An opportunity, a door opening to a whole new exciting realm of wonder; a door closed by the confines of the Singaporean syllabus.
OK, grades like O, O and F don't exactly sound like grades you should sound all off-hand and casual about, but hey, it's O O F in Maths, Chemistry and Economics. See, these subjects aren't very important in the next phase of my life.
Hell, I'm never gonna use A Level Mathematics anytime soon. MacLaurin's Series? Fuck that. I'm not even going anywhere near the MacGuyver series and they want me to learn that retarded cousin in the Quadratic Equation family.
Chemistry won't be too hot, either. It was crazily fun mixing chemicals, seeing their colour change, seeing precipitates form. Those SJI days of trying to make the most vigorous effervescence ever formed this side of sanity; those days are over.
Economics will probably be related, but hey, Economics works best for me as one of them Bedtime-Reading subjects. Those that you learn more out of if you don't have to prove how much you know in it to a bunch of old loony people in England.
Screw them. Long live Mass Communications!
8th March 2005: The Sun Sets On My Tekong
Tomorrow, it all comes to an end...
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Dumbass Moments In MTV History: Oops! I Did It Again
For 20 years, it has entertained us. Changed our fashion sense. Made us hum catchy gay tunes in our heads, like The Ketchup Song. It made us love songs we could never, by the hairs of our chinny chin chin, ever understand, like that meaningless Macarena and songs by Radiohead. And only in MTV can a fat ugly turd like Carson Daly become a popular host.
Hell, MTV is one powerful culture machine. But then again, it also came up with Jackass. It had once made the Spice Girls artiste of the month. It repeatedly played videos by the Backstreet Boys. Obviously, as powerful as it is, MTV can REALLY cock up.
So I bring to you episode 1 of Dumbass Moments in MTV History, where we showcase the worst in mankind's finest invention.
In this episode, we present to you the music video that made 'Britney' join the ranks of Pamela, Jenna and Monica in The List Of Famous Dumb Women...
The video starts normal enough...
...stupid constructed location that's a waste of studio space, gay male dancers, female dancers showing enough skin to make chee ko peks choke on their bakkwa. Standard pop video material.
It's also a video that reveals conspiracy theories about Miss Spears. Britney Spears is really a robot, and her boobs are fake. Press her left boob and the vampbot will breathe fire.
Cry Me A River wasn't about her break-up with Justin Timberlake. It's about his need for an extinguisher.
Even Elmo made a cameo, after shaving and a sex-change operation.
The video was cheesy as hell, but it hadn't crossed into dumbass territory. Yet.
Then, just when you least expect it, the video gets REALLY dumb. Britney spins out of her Elmo outfit to face some random guy who took the wrong turn on his way to a costume party. What follows is one of the dumbest sequence ever in entertainment history...
"All aboard"
"Britney, before you go, there's something I want you to have"
"Oh, it's beautiful, but wait a minute, isn't this...?"
"Yeah, yes it is"
"But I thought the old lady dropped it into the ocean in the end"
"Well baby, I went down and got it for you"
"Oh, you shouldn't have"
What in fuck was that? Man....
Hell, MTV is one powerful culture machine. But then again, it also came up with Jackass. It had once made the Spice Girls artiste of the month. It repeatedly played videos by the Backstreet Boys. Obviously, as powerful as it is, MTV can REALLY cock up.
So I bring to you episode 1 of Dumbass Moments in MTV History, where we showcase the worst in mankind's finest invention.
In this episode, we present to you the music video that made 'Britney' join the ranks of Pamela, Jenna and Monica in The List Of Famous Dumb Women...
The video starts normal enough...
...stupid constructed location that's a waste of studio space, gay male dancers, female dancers showing enough skin to make chee ko peks choke on their bakkwa. Standard pop video material.
It's also a video that reveals conspiracy theories about Miss Spears. Britney Spears is really a robot, and her boobs are fake. Press her left boob and the vampbot will breathe fire.
Cry Me A River wasn't about her break-up with Justin Timberlake. It's about his need for an extinguisher.
Even Elmo made a cameo, after shaving and a sex-change operation.
The video was cheesy as hell, but it hadn't crossed into dumbass territory. Yet.
Then, just when you least expect it, the video gets REALLY dumb. Britney spins out of her Elmo outfit to face some random guy who took the wrong turn on his way to a costume party. What follows is one of the dumbest sequence ever in entertainment history...
"All aboard"
"Britney, before you go, there's something I want you to have"
"Oh, it's beautiful, but wait a minute, isn't this...?"
"Yeah, yes it is"
"But I thought the old lady dropped it into the ocean in the end"
"Well baby, I went down and got it for you"
"Oh, you shouldn't have"
What in fuck was that? Man....
Sunday, February 20, 2005
Satay
I am Suffian Hakim Bin Supoano.
I am 1.79 metres tall. 61kg light.
I am Malay. I am Muslim. Politically put, I am a moderate one.
I am serving my country as a national serviceman. Which makes me bald.
My all-time favourite song is Wonderwall by Oasis.
It's been my favourite since I was 11.
I love playing soccer. Can't stand watching it though. Makes me wish I was in the thick of the action.
I have a soccer team called TLFC. Won't tell you what that stands for. I play down the left wing for them.
I love to sprint. That short burst of power. That rush as the entire world falls back behind you, lagging, while you go ahead, pushing yourself ahead in front of everyone else.
I love my family. Mom, dad, my 3 brothers aged 16, 14 and 3 and most of all, my grandma.
I love my friends.
I have my 5 SJI Mats. There's Nazir, who's been my best friend since I was 11. There's Aizat, my classmate in those heady days of junior college, and my main partner in crime.
There's Nas, my cousin's cousin's cousin. But I'm closer to him than I am to some of my immediate cousins.
There's Mus, who's seen me grow up, go through hell and heaven, and also, who can draw really well.
Then there's Is, our spiritual leader.
Then there's the other members of my inner circle.
Like Sylvester, whose dad owns Loy Kee Chicken Rice, some famous Hainanese chicken rice franchise. And he's also my personal chauffeur.
And Alvin, my instant-connection friend from sec 1, who's now in New York University in uh, New York, making his way into the world of corporate success.
What can I do that not everybody can do?
What do I have that not everybody has?
I have some form of confidence.
I have some form of sense of humour.
I have some form of undying loyalty.
I have contacts some businessmen would eat Pulau Tekong food for.
I am Suffian Hakim Bin Supoano, and no matter what happens, I will never forget any of this.
I am 1.79 metres tall. 61kg light.
I am Malay. I am Muslim. Politically put, I am a moderate one.
I am serving my country as a national serviceman. Which makes me bald.
My all-time favourite song is Wonderwall by Oasis.
It's been my favourite since I was 11.
I love playing soccer. Can't stand watching it though. Makes me wish I was in the thick of the action.
I have a soccer team called TLFC. Won't tell you what that stands for. I play down the left wing for them.
I love to sprint. That short burst of power. That rush as the entire world falls back behind you, lagging, while you go ahead, pushing yourself ahead in front of everyone else.
I love my family. Mom, dad, my 3 brothers aged 16, 14 and 3 and most of all, my grandma.
I love my friends.
I have my 5 SJI Mats. There's Nazir, who's been my best friend since I was 11. There's Aizat, my classmate in those heady days of junior college, and my main partner in crime.
There's Nas, my cousin's cousin's cousin. But I'm closer to him than I am to some of my immediate cousins.
There's Mus, who's seen me grow up, go through hell and heaven, and also, who can draw really well.
Then there's Is, our spiritual leader.
Then there's the other members of my inner circle.
Like Sylvester, whose dad owns Loy Kee Chicken Rice, some famous Hainanese chicken rice franchise. And he's also my personal chauffeur.
And Alvin, my instant-connection friend from sec 1, who's now in New York University in uh, New York, making his way into the world of corporate success.
What can I do that not everybody can do?
What do I have that not everybody has?
I have some form of confidence.
I have some form of sense of humour.
I have some form of undying loyalty.
I have contacts some businessmen would eat Pulau Tekong food for.
I am Suffian Hakim Bin Supoano, and no matter what happens, I will never forget any of this.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Diary Of An NSman 2
24th January 2005: Lights Out, Guerilla Radio
Ever since booking back in on Sunday, life has been like a Geylang streetwalker at 2 in the morning - fucked.
I was hoping it'd be more like a Geylang street at 10 at night - full of hope, vigour; knowing that at the end of it all, I'm satisfied. And richer.
But no, morale dipped as we left our civilian illusions to return to the military culture that our Constitution has shoved up our noses.
25th January 2005: Sick People In Hospitals Are Called...
I always thought NS would just be one long P.E lesson. In Hokkien.
But no, it's been one long tragedy where all forms of logic snuffs it.
This week, it's like the sergeants, the officers and the PTIs (Physical Training Instructors) had a meeting and one of them said, "We need a new catchphrase. 'You think you very funny is it?' is getting old."
Another one (I shan't mention names) must have said, "My, my, won't you touch my penis."
The guy who is usually in-charge (shan't give you names here neither) is VERY likely to mishear and said, "What? Test my patience? Yeah that's good, that's good."
"I didn't say that."
"HUH? WHAT? You said something?"
This week, all of them kept going, "Don't test my patience." Like in PT (physical training), they'd go like, 'Okay give us 15 rows in 10 seconds.'"
And of course, in accordance to logic and the limits of human mobility, the 200 or so of us Scorpion company recruits were unable to form 15 rows in 10 seconds.
The bugger in charge would then yell like a girl at a Backstreet Boys concert, "Sloppy movement Scorpion company! You all don't test my patience ah..."
We'd speed up all we can, banging into one another in the process, but the heartless beast would nonetheless say, "Scorpion company, you've tested my patience enough. Whole lot knock it down!"
Fuck. What patience?
29th January 2005: Fieldcamp Day 1
Man, what did we do today?
One, we marched 8 kilometres to the campsite (which is a very eerie-looking abandoned rubber plantation). See, stupid thing is, the campsite's just 4km away from BMTC School 2 (Basic Military Training Centre School 2, where I'm stationed). What we did was march 4 km in a circle, ending up back at BMTC. Then from there, we marched another 4 km to the rubber plantation. Just so that we'll march 8 stinking kilometres.
When we got there, we went on to set up our makeshift tents, or bashas in army language.
(Side note: Army language is weird. Here's a brief breakdown of Army language:
Makeshift tent - basha
Identity card - 11B
Shop - E-mart
Free time - Admin time
Terrible work - Half-fuck job
'Listen to me' - 'Fuck you'
'You're not allowed to do that' - 'Go suck cock'
'Turn your attention here, recruit' - 'Eh Chow cheebye!')
After that, we had outdoor lectures on judging distances and formatting of range cards. Can't tell you much about them, wasn't really listening. At night, we had a powder bath. YES, bathing in powder, since the SAF are stingy bitches when it comes to water in field camps. I'm going to have to do that for the entire camp except for the 4th day, in which we'll finally get to bathe with divine fluid water.
But well screw hygiene. My biggest complaint is that I can't have my compulsary external social life here. Another big complaint is that my basha mate is doing this very scary cross between snoring and mumbling. Other than that, hey, I'm enjoying all this, with my rifle and my buddy and me...
1st February 2005: Fieldcamp Day 4
People have a lot of names for me that in no way sound like Suffian. My primary school classmates called me Dodo Bird. Why? Because everytime they asked me a question, I'd be too lazy to answer them, so I say, "Don't know." And 'don't know' sounds like well, 'Dodo'. So yeah...
Most people I know who come across me relate me to Mr. Bean. Don't ask why. It's something about the way I talk and the way I behave.
My mother calls me Idiot. Something about not listening to her or something like that. Wasn't really listening.
As of last night, my platoon mates have to add another name to that list. It's Platoon I/C.
Fer shizzle man, thay made me platoon in-charge. Which means the only nice thing about this camp from now on will be the water we'll get to shower with later, the camaraderie among 18-year-old boys in the jungles of Pulau Tekong, and the cloudless, starry nightsky they have over here.
Everything else will be one crazy blur of push-ups and fuck-yous...
Ever since booking back in on Sunday, life has been like a Geylang streetwalker at 2 in the morning - fucked.
I was hoping it'd be more like a Geylang street at 10 at night - full of hope, vigour; knowing that at the end of it all, I'm satisfied. And richer.
But no, morale dipped as we left our civilian illusions to return to the military culture that our Constitution has shoved up our noses.
25th January 2005: Sick People In Hospitals Are Called...
I always thought NS would just be one long P.E lesson. In Hokkien.
But no, it's been one long tragedy where all forms of logic snuffs it.
This week, it's like the sergeants, the officers and the PTIs (Physical Training Instructors) had a meeting and one of them said, "We need a new catchphrase. 'You think you very funny is it?' is getting old."
Another one (I shan't mention names) must have said, "My, my, won't you touch my penis."
The guy who is usually in-charge (shan't give you names here neither) is VERY likely to mishear and said, "What? Test my patience? Yeah that's good, that's good."
"I didn't say that."
"HUH? WHAT? You said something?"
This week, all of them kept going, "Don't test my patience." Like in PT (physical training), they'd go like, 'Okay give us 15 rows in 10 seconds.'"
And of course, in accordance to logic and the limits of human mobility, the 200 or so of us Scorpion company recruits were unable to form 15 rows in 10 seconds.
The bugger in charge would then yell like a girl at a Backstreet Boys concert, "Sloppy movement Scorpion company! You all don't test my patience ah..."
We'd speed up all we can, banging into one another in the process, but the heartless beast would nonetheless say, "Scorpion company, you've tested my patience enough. Whole lot knock it down!"
Fuck. What patience?
29th January 2005: Fieldcamp Day 1
Man, what did we do today?
One, we marched 8 kilometres to the campsite (which is a very eerie-looking abandoned rubber plantation). See, stupid thing is, the campsite's just 4km away from BMTC School 2 (Basic Military Training Centre School 2, where I'm stationed). What we did was march 4 km in a circle, ending up back at BMTC. Then from there, we marched another 4 km to the rubber plantation. Just so that we'll march 8 stinking kilometres.
When we got there, we went on to set up our makeshift tents, or bashas in army language.
(Side note: Army language is weird. Here's a brief breakdown of Army language:
Makeshift tent - basha
Identity card - 11B
Shop - E-mart
Free time - Admin time
Terrible work - Half-fuck job
'Listen to me' - 'Fuck you'
'You're not allowed to do that' - 'Go suck cock'
'Turn your attention here, recruit' - 'Eh Chow cheebye!')
After that, we had outdoor lectures on judging distances and formatting of range cards. Can't tell you much about them, wasn't really listening. At night, we had a powder bath. YES, bathing in powder, since the SAF are stingy bitches when it comes to water in field camps. I'm going to have to do that for the entire camp except for the 4th day, in which we'll finally get to bathe with divine fluid water.
But well screw hygiene. My biggest complaint is that I can't have my compulsary external social life here. Another big complaint is that my basha mate is doing this very scary cross between snoring and mumbling. Other than that, hey, I'm enjoying all this, with my rifle and my buddy and me...
1st February 2005: Fieldcamp Day 4
People have a lot of names for me that in no way sound like Suffian. My primary school classmates called me Dodo Bird. Why? Because everytime they asked me a question, I'd be too lazy to answer them, so I say, "Don't know." And 'don't know' sounds like well, 'Dodo'. So yeah...
Most people I know who come across me relate me to Mr. Bean. Don't ask why. It's something about the way I talk and the way I behave.
My mother calls me Idiot. Something about not listening to her or something like that. Wasn't really listening.
As of last night, my platoon mates have to add another name to that list. It's Platoon I/C.
Fer shizzle man, thay made me platoon in-charge. Which means the only nice thing about this camp from now on will be the water we'll get to shower with later, the camaraderie among 18-year-old boys in the jungles of Pulau Tekong, and the cloudless, starry nightsky they have over here.
Everything else will be one crazy blur of push-ups and fuck-yous...
Saturday, January 22, 2005
Abstract RJC
I have no pictures of RJC, which I went to today. And I haven't put up some pictures that lie stagnant in my computer, so I'll do something interesting. I'll depict RJC with the pictures I have. Somehow.
Before I headed down to RJC, I had a soccer match at Yishun against my cousin's team. We won 3-2, even though we were outnumbered 10 men to 11. I don't have a picture of the team that fought it out at Yishun, but here's an abstract representation...
Sure they're all women, but where's the tenth player, you wonder? See the chair draped in white? That's our striker Mus. He's as mobile as a chair and scores as many goals as one.
After the match, Mus and I took a cab down to Bishan Stadium, where my yankee friend Alvin picked us up and drove us to RJC. That place (RJC) is so big with unnecessary or underused facilities:
Facilities, like brains.
When I walk through RJC, I couldn't help but think of the millions of dollars they could have saved and donated to help feed Rwandan kids instead...
RJC's students would definitely have teething problems in settling into the new campus. Not all, of course, maybe one in four...
The ratio could be larger than that...
Or maybe even smaller, who knows?
But none of that dispels the fact that RJC, like any other school, is a work of art because it brings people together in one institution.
Be it guy-bonding between male students and their chemistry teacher...
Or guy bonding between more male students and their chemistry teacher...
Between the girls and members of the animal kingdom...
Camaraderie, even, among rival House Captains...
Of course, there are some things that you just cannot find in Raffles Junior Collge.
Like drug addicts...
Or zoo escapees...
It is a safe place. You do not have to worry about losing your privates...
Neither can you find the SAJC Track team in that place...
It's an exclusive place, but all in all, it is magnificent. Met Geri there... Lovely lady with equally lovely dance moves (and that woman dances GOOD).
Closest thing I'v ever done to proper dancing is this:
And yes the closest thing to dancing Aizat should ever do is waving, what with the kind of dances he comes up with.
And like Aizat, it is time for me to wave to all of you goodbye as I leave for Pulau Tekong again.
Before I headed down to RJC, I had a soccer match at Yishun against my cousin's team. We won 3-2, even though we were outnumbered 10 men to 11. I don't have a picture of the team that fought it out at Yishun, but here's an abstract representation...
Sure they're all women, but where's the tenth player, you wonder? See the chair draped in white? That's our striker Mus. He's as mobile as a chair and scores as many goals as one.
After the match, Mus and I took a cab down to Bishan Stadium, where my yankee friend Alvin picked us up and drove us to RJC. That place (RJC) is so big with unnecessary or underused facilities:
Facilities, like brains.
When I walk through RJC, I couldn't help but think of the millions of dollars they could have saved and donated to help feed Rwandan kids instead...
RJC's students would definitely have teething problems in settling into the new campus. Not all, of course, maybe one in four...
The ratio could be larger than that...
Or maybe even smaller, who knows?
But none of that dispels the fact that RJC, like any other school, is a work of art because it brings people together in one institution.
Be it guy-bonding between male students and their chemistry teacher...
Or guy bonding between more male students and their chemistry teacher...
Between the girls and members of the animal kingdom...
Camaraderie, even, among rival House Captains...
Of course, there are some things that you just cannot find in Raffles Junior Collge.
Like drug addicts...
Or zoo escapees...
It is a safe place. You do not have to worry about losing your privates...
Neither can you find the SAJC Track team in that place...
It's an exclusive place, but all in all, it is magnificent. Met Geri there... Lovely lady with equally lovely dance moves (and that woman dances GOOD).
Closest thing I'v ever done to proper dancing is this:
And yes the closest thing to dancing Aizat should ever do is waving, what with the kind of dances he comes up with.
And like Aizat, it is time for me to wave to all of you goodbye as I leave for Pulau Tekong again.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
Diary Of An NSman 1
8th January 2005: Leaving On A Jetplane
If there's anything I have to say about Pulau Tekong, it is far. Pulau Tekong is so far, you can't even access it by public transport. Trans-Island my balls.
They put me into Scorpion company - silent and swift. At least, that's what we're described as. Swift? Maybe. Silent? No.
10th January 2005: Wifey
I finally got my rifle. The regulars here call it their 'wife'.
Why? Because if we lose our rifles, we'll get screwed. I'm talking about 7 years in detention barracks screwed. So we have to take it everywhere we go, even to the toilet. I wouldn't take a piss with my wife next to me, but that's army logic for you.
We have to oil the damn thing everyday. We have to know it inside out... every nook, every cranny. We have to know how to dismantle it, and how to piece it back together. Not to mention it's very, very heavy.
Hell, I didn't get a wife. I got myself a husband.
12th January 2005: Misquotes
In the words of a certain highly-ranked personnel in my company:
During a talk about troop morale: "There have been many cases of seaside in the past. You know what is seaside or not? That one ah, is when you kill yourself."
In encouraging a more active involvement from the nw recruits: "For this exercise I want your hundred percent pass, patient"
Nothing much to say about: "In school you set rules. So do here."
He has good intentions, that man. He wants us to excel as economists: "We will train you hard. Both fiscal and mental."
He prepares us for the future, like for the passing-out parade: "At the parade you will all get your berry." (beret)
13th January 2005: The Mating Process
Lecture On Loading And Unloading Of M16 Rifle
I'm writing this so as not to fall asleep. I'm writing this so as not to fall asleep. If I fall asleep, platoon sergeant's gonna make me fodder for his malay-accented hokkien expletives.
WHOA! The standards to pass my rifle loading test includes loading 30 rounds into a magazine in 50 seconds. 30 ROUNDS IN 50 SECONDS? The hell do they think this is, female orgasms?
Anyways, I realised that shooting rifles is like another activity all Singaporean males undertake. If the rifle shoots, there's always a magazine nearby.
14th January 2005: AquaPropaganda
Last evening, I saw the sun set over a peaceful, prosperous beautiful Singapore - the land whose freedom I am fighting for - and I thought,
"Hell, this army propaganda is working."
To drink water, we have to do it in a parade. Our sergeant would go, 'Bottles up', and we'd echo after him. Then, 'Caps off', and we'd echo again before removing our water bottle caps. Finally, our sergant would command 'Drink up'. Then before we echo, we'll have to recite the SAF 7 Core Values:
Loyalty to country (Yeah sure, the country's that making us drink newater)
Leadership (You call giving us Speaker's Corner leadership?)
Discipline (Not during Book-Out Day)
Professionalism (Bah no denying that)
Fighting Spirit (You've got to have a lot of that eating the food they serve you here)
Ethics (No man, please. Eating that kinda food is just immoral)
Care For Soldiers (Hahahahhahahahahahahhahahahahahahhaha)
Thn, we drink the water.
15th January 2005: I'm Missing You
Nothing beats the view I got two evenings ago of the sun setting over Eastern Singapore. But that's a rare sight - of golden honey sunrays bathing the Control Tower of Changi Airport in the glory of a dying day.
A nice view I get to see on a more regular basis are aeroplanes taking off from nearby Changi Airport. It's a symbol the civilian life I've known for 18 years of my life. A civilian life...
Of waking up at times that would not steal one's sanity.
Of going out on afternoons to play glorious soccer.
Of bumming around at Orchard Road.
Of not having to bathe in open cubicles with other naked guys.
Of going out with my SJI Mats.
Of Blogging.
Of Chatting.
Of Partying.
But I sacrifice my previous way of life so those I love can keep theirs.
See how bored I am in NS?
16th January 2005: Ooh! Aah!
I just discovered my favourite marching song:
I'm a steamroller baby
Just rolling down the line (X2)
So you better get out of my way now
'Fore I roll on over you (X2)
Give a little (Ooh!)
Little (Aah!)
Little Rock N' Roll
Just A Kinda (Ooh!)
Kinda (Aah!)
Some kinda super soul
20th January 2005: Outro
Man I haven't updated my journal for sometime. I will next time I book back in. In a few hours, I leave for home. I am so happy. It's like I'm on drugs.
HDB flats, here I come.
If there's anything I have to say about Pulau Tekong, it is far. Pulau Tekong is so far, you can't even access it by public transport. Trans-Island my balls.
They put me into Scorpion company - silent and swift. At least, that's what we're described as. Swift? Maybe. Silent? No.
10th January 2005: Wifey
I finally got my rifle. The regulars here call it their 'wife'.
Why? Because if we lose our rifles, we'll get screwed. I'm talking about 7 years in detention barracks screwed. So we have to take it everywhere we go, even to the toilet. I wouldn't take a piss with my wife next to me, but that's army logic for you.
We have to oil the damn thing everyday. We have to know it inside out... every nook, every cranny. We have to know how to dismantle it, and how to piece it back together. Not to mention it's very, very heavy.
Hell, I didn't get a wife. I got myself a husband.
12th January 2005: Misquotes
In the words of a certain highly-ranked personnel in my company:
During a talk about troop morale: "There have been many cases of seaside in the past. You know what is seaside or not? That one ah, is when you kill yourself."
In encouraging a more active involvement from the nw recruits: "For this exercise I want your hundred percent pass, patient"
Nothing much to say about: "In school you set rules. So do here."
He has good intentions, that man. He wants us to excel as economists: "We will train you hard. Both fiscal and mental."
He prepares us for the future, like for the passing-out parade: "At the parade you will all get your berry." (beret)
13th January 2005: The Mating Process
Lecture On Loading And Unloading Of M16 Rifle
I'm writing this so as not to fall asleep. I'm writing this so as not to fall asleep. If I fall asleep, platoon sergeant's gonna make me fodder for his malay-accented hokkien expletives.
WHOA! The standards to pass my rifle loading test includes loading 30 rounds into a magazine in 50 seconds. 30 ROUNDS IN 50 SECONDS? The hell do they think this is, female orgasms?
Anyways, I realised that shooting rifles is like another activity all Singaporean males undertake. If the rifle shoots, there's always a magazine nearby.
14th January 2005: AquaPropaganda
Last evening, I saw the sun set over a peaceful, prosperous beautiful Singapore - the land whose freedom I am fighting for - and I thought,
"Hell, this army propaganda is working."
To drink water, we have to do it in a parade. Our sergeant would go, 'Bottles up', and we'd echo after him. Then, 'Caps off', and we'd echo again before removing our water bottle caps. Finally, our sergant would command 'Drink up'. Then before we echo, we'll have to recite the SAF 7 Core Values:
Loyalty to country (Yeah sure, the country's that making us drink newater)
Leadership (You call giving us Speaker's Corner leadership?)
Discipline (Not during Book-Out Day)
Professionalism (Bah no denying that)
Fighting Spirit (You've got to have a lot of that eating the food they serve you here)
Ethics (No man, please. Eating that kinda food is just immoral)
Care For Soldiers (Hahahahhahahahahahahhahahahahahahhaha)
Thn, we drink the water.
15th January 2005: I'm Missing You
Nothing beats the view I got two evenings ago of the sun setting over Eastern Singapore. But that's a rare sight - of golden honey sunrays bathing the Control Tower of Changi Airport in the glory of a dying day.
A nice view I get to see on a more regular basis are aeroplanes taking off from nearby Changi Airport. It's a symbol the civilian life I've known for 18 years of my life. A civilian life...
Of waking up at times that would not steal one's sanity.
Of going out on afternoons to play glorious soccer.
Of bumming around at Orchard Road.
Of not having to bathe in open cubicles with other naked guys.
Of going out with my SJI Mats.
Of Blogging.
Of Chatting.
Of Partying.
But I sacrifice my previous way of life so those I love can keep theirs.
See how bored I am in NS?
16th January 2005: Ooh! Aah!
I just discovered my favourite marching song:
I'm a steamroller baby
Just rolling down the line (X2)
So you better get out of my way now
'Fore I roll on over you (X2)
Give a little (Ooh!)
Little (Aah!)
Little Rock N' Roll
Just A Kinda (Ooh!)
Kinda (Aah!)
Some kinda super soul
20th January 2005: Outro
Man I haven't updated my journal for sometime. I will next time I book back in. In a few hours, I leave for home. I am so happy. It's like I'm on drugs.
HDB flats, here I come.
Friday, January 07, 2005
Love Actually
Thank you, Geri, Crystle and Mus for starting me on this
Tomorrow, I leave civilian life. I shall enter one of discipline, of dog tags; of retards yelling, telling me they're gonna be my worst nightmare even though I've already seen my brother naked. Tomorrow, I'm a National Serviceman. I just have one last address to my readers before I leave to that offshore zoo called Pulau Tekong.
I've been clubbing a lot lately, and I saw a lot of couples. Couples dancing, couples making out, couples quarelling, couples hugging. Hell, if there wasn't loud music, I'd think I was in an MRT train. But seeing all these people in love; I feel good, that humans have not lost the ability to emotionally invest among one another.
Actually, I myself haven't really been in love. It's hard for me to fall in love with anyone - my independence has ensured that. It's also hard for anyone to fall in love with me - my face has ensured that. I may not know much about love, but I know one thing about heterosexual relationships: being in one is like studying history. At first it seems interesting, full of events. You can remember all the dates. And you bullshit a lot. After a while, it gets tedious and boring. Full of wars that do not spice things up, but make things all the more intolerable. You don't care about the dates anymore. The subject seems to get thicker and fatter by the day, and all the content go to the wrong places. Some relationships I know are in this stage, but I only have one thing to say to the guys: If you really love her, hang in there.
When relationships reach this stage, guys will usually react in one of 3 ways.
Some will get moody. Control your emotions, guys. Wanna know why Scrooge never had kids? Cos nobody will fuck a self-pitying, grumpy fella with an agenda against the entire world. Why do you think Italy has such low birth rates? Nobody wants to give Roberto the perpetually-angry mafia boss any pussy. Women'd never know if he's pointing his dick or his gun at them. When a guy gets moody, he may say the wrongest stuff any guy can say besides, "Hi, I'm Stacy." He may say stuff like, "Why the hell did you dance with that guy at the club, you cheap whore!", or "Since you can talk to that platonic friend of yours so much why don't you just fucking marry him?"
Guys, just hold it out until you're less angry and until you've dispelled enough insecurity about what she thinks of you. If your girl no longer loves you, she'd tell you. She might give a shit-ass reason 'to be nice', like, "I need to study for my exams" or "My parents disapprove" but yeah, she'd tell you when she can't take anymore. Girls, well, don't need my advice. Intuition will get them through.
Also, guys, watch out for the platonic friend. Don't be hostile to him, but know this, if you do one wrong move on your girl, she's gonna go crying to that fucker. She's gonna sob all over his shoulder going, "Why he do that to me? Why he do that to me?". Give them some time together and she'll start going "Yeah do that to me! Do that to me!" So guys, with girls, you really have to watch your mouth. Or she's gonna fuck her best friend.
When a relationship starts to thaw, guys may also cheat. Some guys in relationships find themselves being hit on by other women. Sure it's a nice feeling and all but know this, guys: those women like you because of your girlfriend. That bitch bathed you, got you a haircut to suit your ugly ass face, made you stop scratching your crotch in public, made you a gentleman and revived your long dead fashion sense. Isn't loyalty a small price to pay in tribute to the woman who made your life so much richer, and who made you so much a better person? Sure you're gay as hell, listening to Westlife or emo bands and writing poems about how she intices you like the tides to the moon, and single people may just go up to your face and say, "Hey Elton!". But relax, those guys are too ugly and too single to even measure up to you. Probably the kinda guys who spend their lives fantasizing over their cousins.
Whatever it is, don't cheat. You cheating is a passport for her to go get some dick herself. We wouldn't want that now would we?
Some guys may stop spending as much time with their girlfriends as before when the couplehood reaches a trough. I say this is perfectly healthy as compared to getting moody or beating up your girlfriend. Sure in this day and age, hardly anybody does it (physically abusing their significant others). But some guys do so to remind the girl who's boss. Guys, if you're among the few who do so, stop it. It only shows that you have no other more civilized methods of holding her respct.
But to take a break when the relationship's fizzling out is a good thing. Both parties get to think out what they want, and when they meet up again, they'll be more efficient at communicating their expectations in the relationship.
Nobody wants to break up with their boy/girlfriends. It's emotionally draining, and you do stupid things. Guys are gonna go to clubs and try to pick up girls with dumbass pick-up lines like, "Hey nice dress. It'd look better on the floor of my friend's garden 'cos I have no money to go home and the fella's gonna drive me there but keep me outside cos I'm pissed drunk and may vomit anytime though." Or something that'd put those words through a girl's head. Girls, on the other hand, would watch re-runs of Sex And The City and pig out on ice-cream. We wouldn't want to be fat unlike Sarah Jessica Parker now would we? Either way, it's not pretty.
So people, if you don't love whoever you're with, get out of the relationship before you have to resort to Days Of Our Lives over Sex And The City. If you love the person, hold on for as long as it is meant to last and enjoy every moment of it. We can always tell if we love somebody or not. Someone who you have to figure out whether you love or not is probably just very cute.
As I tell my friends, Love is the number one proof that there is a God.
So before I leave the shores of mainland Singapore, adios amigos. We'll see one another again two long weeks from now.
With love,
Suff
Tomorrow, I leave civilian life. I shall enter one of discipline, of dog tags; of retards yelling, telling me they're gonna be my worst nightmare even though I've already seen my brother naked. Tomorrow, I'm a National Serviceman. I just have one last address to my readers before I leave to that offshore zoo called Pulau Tekong.
I've been clubbing a lot lately, and I saw a lot of couples. Couples dancing, couples making out, couples quarelling, couples hugging. Hell, if there wasn't loud music, I'd think I was in an MRT train. But seeing all these people in love; I feel good, that humans have not lost the ability to emotionally invest among one another.
Actually, I myself haven't really been in love. It's hard for me to fall in love with anyone - my independence has ensured that. It's also hard for anyone to fall in love with me - my face has ensured that. I may not know much about love, but I know one thing about heterosexual relationships: being in one is like studying history. At first it seems interesting, full of events. You can remember all the dates. And you bullshit a lot. After a while, it gets tedious and boring. Full of wars that do not spice things up, but make things all the more intolerable. You don't care about the dates anymore. The subject seems to get thicker and fatter by the day, and all the content go to the wrong places. Some relationships I know are in this stage, but I only have one thing to say to the guys: If you really love her, hang in there.
When relationships reach this stage, guys will usually react in one of 3 ways.
Some will get moody. Control your emotions, guys. Wanna know why Scrooge never had kids? Cos nobody will fuck a self-pitying, grumpy fella with an agenda against the entire world. Why do you think Italy has such low birth rates? Nobody wants to give Roberto the perpetually-angry mafia boss any pussy. Women'd never know if he's pointing his dick or his gun at them. When a guy gets moody, he may say the wrongest stuff any guy can say besides, "Hi, I'm Stacy." He may say stuff like, "Why the hell did you dance with that guy at the club, you cheap whore!", or "Since you can talk to that platonic friend of yours so much why don't you just fucking marry him?"
Guys, just hold it out until you're less angry and until you've dispelled enough insecurity about what she thinks of you. If your girl no longer loves you, she'd tell you. She might give a shit-ass reason 'to be nice', like, "I need to study for my exams" or "My parents disapprove" but yeah, she'd tell you when she can't take anymore. Girls, well, don't need my advice. Intuition will get them through.
Also, guys, watch out for the platonic friend. Don't be hostile to him, but know this, if you do one wrong move on your girl, she's gonna go crying to that fucker. She's gonna sob all over his shoulder going, "Why he do that to me? Why he do that to me?". Give them some time together and she'll start going "Yeah do that to me! Do that to me!" So guys, with girls, you really have to watch your mouth. Or she's gonna fuck her best friend.
When a relationship starts to thaw, guys may also cheat. Some guys in relationships find themselves being hit on by other women. Sure it's a nice feeling and all but know this, guys: those women like you because of your girlfriend. That bitch bathed you, got you a haircut to suit your ugly ass face, made you stop scratching your crotch in public, made you a gentleman and revived your long dead fashion sense. Isn't loyalty a small price to pay in tribute to the woman who made your life so much richer, and who made you so much a better person? Sure you're gay as hell, listening to Westlife or emo bands and writing poems about how she intices you like the tides to the moon, and single people may just go up to your face and say, "Hey Elton!". But relax, those guys are too ugly and too single to even measure up to you. Probably the kinda guys who spend their lives fantasizing over their cousins.
Whatever it is, don't cheat. You cheating is a passport for her to go get some dick herself. We wouldn't want that now would we?
Some guys may stop spending as much time with their girlfriends as before when the couplehood reaches a trough. I say this is perfectly healthy as compared to getting moody or beating up your girlfriend. Sure in this day and age, hardly anybody does it (physically abusing their significant others). But some guys do so to remind the girl who's boss. Guys, if you're among the few who do so, stop it. It only shows that you have no other more civilized methods of holding her respct.
But to take a break when the relationship's fizzling out is a good thing. Both parties get to think out what they want, and when they meet up again, they'll be more efficient at communicating their expectations in the relationship.
Nobody wants to break up with their boy/girlfriends. It's emotionally draining, and you do stupid things. Guys are gonna go to clubs and try to pick up girls with dumbass pick-up lines like, "Hey nice dress. It'd look better on the floor of my friend's garden 'cos I have no money to go home and the fella's gonna drive me there but keep me outside cos I'm pissed drunk and may vomit anytime though." Or something that'd put those words through a girl's head. Girls, on the other hand, would watch re-runs of Sex And The City and pig out on ice-cream. We wouldn't want to be fat unlike Sarah Jessica Parker now would we? Either way, it's not pretty.
So people, if you don't love whoever you're with, get out of the relationship before you have to resort to Days Of Our Lives over Sex And The City. If you love the person, hold on for as long as it is meant to last and enjoy every moment of it. We can always tell if we love somebody or not. Someone who you have to figure out whether you love or not is probably just very cute.
As I tell my friends, Love is the number one proof that there is a God.
So before I leave the shores of mainland Singapore, adios amigos. We'll see one another again two long weeks from now.
With love,
Suff
Monday, January 03, 2005
In Malaysia You Never Know
Pick-up line of the day: If I wore squarepants would you sponge my bob? - Aizat
Quote of the day: (On certain frigid, theologically-inclined females) Man your sis is a (thinks of somthing cold and inanimate).... doorknob! - Suff
...... But she's had 6 boyfriends man... - Chah
Yeah she's a doorknob alright! Everyone had a turn. -Suff
I left for Kuala Lumpur on th 28th of December 2004 expecting a fun-filled journey where I get to calm my restless mind and my ravaged soul; where my entire being rejuvenates from the endless mental, physical and emotional bludgeoning that is Singaporean life. I got two of that at the end of it: fun-filled and journey.
I mean, sure we got to see things we were more than happy to see. Like the Bra and Panties Match we played in WWE's Raw vs Smackdown on Aizat's PS2...
There were also things we weren't too hot about seeing, like rude taxi drivers, service that'd piss the Pope off, Aizat's just-wake-up face...
I beat this fella in Winning Eleven on his birthday, which probably explains his face. Me beating Aizat in Winning Eleven on his birthday is like losing your virginity to Jenna Jameson on a school night. It's the wrong time and the other party probably had better, but hey, either way, you scored.
Whatever it is, we learnt a lot in Kuala Lumpur. In KLCC, Aizat and I, for example, learnt that Christy Chung makes us want to mate like bunnies even if she's located next to the prayer room.
Aizat was probably thinking the same thing as me: She needs relocation to our hotel.
Also, we caught the first leg of the Tiger Cup semi-finals between Singapore and Myannmar at Stadium Tun Razak in Cheras. I'd describe the Myannmar fans the same way I'd describe Adam King: delusional, drunk enough alcohol to embarass the Germans and ubiquitous. But of course, like every collection of bad people, there are the exceptions. The saving grace. Black people had Martin Luther King. Mats had Fandi Ahmad. RI had the janitor. Myannmar soccer fans had this guy:
Which guy you ask? The second guy from your right.
The match was exciting, but nothing could beat pre-match posing...
Who did I go with? Supposedly with 5 of my best friends. One had high fever and the other would as soon receive a blowjob from a magpie as acquire leave from polytechnic. What I got instead were 3 of my SJI Mats, namely Nazir, Aizat and Iskandar. Iskandar's mom, sister and two cousins also came along for the ride...
From your left to your right: Iskandar's cousin, Zul, Crazy Guy With Hand On His Crotch Looking Like He's Wanking Through His Jeans, Aizat, Strongman wannabe, Nazir, Original strongman, Iskandar behing him, in white, and finally, me, showing the world the length of my penis.
So what happened in Kuala Lumpur that was of interest? Well to the typical average logical person, nothing. But in the words of the SJI Mats who went to the Kuala L, in Malaysia, you never know...
Quote of the day: (On certain frigid, theologically-inclined females) Man your sis is a (thinks of somthing cold and inanimate).... doorknob! - Suff
...... But she's had 6 boyfriends man... - Chah
Yeah she's a doorknob alright! Everyone had a turn. -Suff
I left for Kuala Lumpur on th 28th of December 2004 expecting a fun-filled journey where I get to calm my restless mind and my ravaged soul; where my entire being rejuvenates from the endless mental, physical and emotional bludgeoning that is Singaporean life. I got two of that at the end of it: fun-filled and journey.
I mean, sure we got to see things we were more than happy to see. Like the Bra and Panties Match we played in WWE's Raw vs Smackdown on Aizat's PS2...
There were also things we weren't too hot about seeing, like rude taxi drivers, service that'd piss the Pope off, Aizat's just-wake-up face...
I beat this fella in Winning Eleven on his birthday, which probably explains his face. Me beating Aizat in Winning Eleven on his birthday is like losing your virginity to Jenna Jameson on a school night. It's the wrong time and the other party probably had better, but hey, either way, you scored.
Whatever it is, we learnt a lot in Kuala Lumpur. In KLCC, Aizat and I, for example, learnt that Christy Chung makes us want to mate like bunnies even if she's located next to the prayer room.
Aizat was probably thinking the same thing as me: She needs relocation to our hotel.
Also, we caught the first leg of the Tiger Cup semi-finals between Singapore and Myannmar at Stadium Tun Razak in Cheras. I'd describe the Myannmar fans the same way I'd describe Adam King: delusional, drunk enough alcohol to embarass the Germans and ubiquitous. But of course, like every collection of bad people, there are the exceptions. The saving grace. Black people had Martin Luther King. Mats had Fandi Ahmad. RI had the janitor. Myannmar soccer fans had this guy:
Which guy you ask? The second guy from your right.
The match was exciting, but nothing could beat pre-match posing...
Who did I go with? Supposedly with 5 of my best friends. One had high fever and the other would as soon receive a blowjob from a magpie as acquire leave from polytechnic. What I got instead were 3 of my SJI Mats, namely Nazir, Aizat and Iskandar. Iskandar's mom, sister and two cousins also came along for the ride...
From your left to your right: Iskandar's cousin, Zul, Crazy Guy With Hand On His Crotch Looking Like He's Wanking Through His Jeans, Aizat, Strongman wannabe, Nazir, Original strongman, Iskandar behing him, in white, and finally, me, showing the world the length of my penis.
So what happened in Kuala Lumpur that was of interest? Well to the typical average logical person, nothing. But in the words of the SJI Mats who went to the Kuala L, in Malaysia, you never know...
Saturday, December 25, 2004
Lost
I wrote this song myself about 2 minutes ago...
I never wanted to lose you
And I wish I could have you in my arms again
But you're gone now and I feel this pain
I want to see you, but I can't
We've faded away like a dying Sun
I tried to be everything to you
I tried, I tried
You wanted something new
I never wanted to lose you
But maybe baby it was never meant to be
You reached out and lit up the darkness in me
Sometimes when you do that I hurt
And when I reach back I get dirt
I tried then, I try now
I tried, I tried
And I want you back somehow
I never wanted to lose you
Or the memory of you in my hands
I just wish I could talk and you'll understand
I just want you near, my dear,
My long-lost toy lightsabre
I never wanted to lose you
And I wish I could have you in my arms again
But you're gone now and I feel this pain
I want to see you, but I can't
We've faded away like a dying Sun
I tried to be everything to you
I tried, I tried
You wanted something new
I never wanted to lose you
But maybe baby it was never meant to be
You reached out and lit up the darkness in me
Sometimes when you do that I hurt
And when I reach back I get dirt
I tried then, I try now
I tried, I tried
And I want you back somehow
I never wanted to lose you
Or the memory of you in my hands
I just wish I could talk and you'll understand
I just want you near, my dear,
My long-lost toy lightsabre
Friday, December 17, 2004
Now Testify!
Quote of the day: Employment is nothing if you do not make your wealth in kindness. Eat that, Hallmark bitches.
I want to introduce my readership to two people.
First up, Jonathan Tan. National Junior College soccer captain, my classmate in upper secondary in St. Joseph's Institution and right-back for our glorious Josephians-and-a-few-others football team, TLFC. A close homie, Jon is one of the few people I can freely and intellectually discuss porn with.
Next, I would like to introduce all of you to Geraldine Lee. This girl can dance, and is smarter than Singaporeans who couldn't make it to RJC, which is a LOT of Singaporeans. And don't give me the shit bout 'they work hard and have no life'. Cos this woman is a terrific cocktail of flair, life and brains.
These two have nothing much in common except well, they're Chinese. But I have one thing to say to the both of them:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!
Okay those two had their ego boost and now it's my turn. I got my testimonial from school, and since they don't put in my less attractive points in there, I'm putting up the shit here.
My Testimonial edited by Ms Tan Wee Bee and Ms Helen Goh
Suffian was a student of SAJC from 2003 to 2004 where he pursued a course in the Science faculty.
He has a fun-loving spirit and was well-liked by his friends (what do you mean was?), who found him to have a good listening ear whenever they faced problems. He had (had?) an active social life and was well-known for his outgoing personality. Together with his classmates, Suffian served the community through the cleaning of one-room flats, inhabited by the old and lonely.
Suffian was always very keen when it came to giving his perspectives on issues being debated on. He is open-minded and is never afraid to articulate his opinions in front of others. Well-read and knowledgeable, he could easily take part in class discussions.
With his athletic build and explosive running ability (hahahahahahahaha!!!), he joined Rugby and Track and Field. His pace and speed (which is basically the same thing) made him a useful asset to the team and he took part in the National 'A' Division Track and Field Championships in July 2004. His influence spread to the team and he constantly encouraged his team-mates and instilled them with a winning mentality, which is essential to any sport or game. Suffian was also a member of the Malay Language Society where he started the first Sepak Takraw competition. As the Loyfatt House Captain, his entertaining speeches made him a favourite with everyone who listened to him ("...Finding Nemo is a story about uh, fish..."). He loved working with people and was closely associated with the House Council. A good stage performer, he produced and acted in the Teacher's Day concert in 2003 and was equally at home with comedy, dances or raps. He was also the Energy/IT Representative for the class and had dutifully fulfilled his responsibilities.
Suffian would be an asset to any organization that could tap into his people-oriented skills.
Not bad eh? Notice though, that they did not include anything academic. Fer shizzle ma nizzle! Aiite peace out.
I want to introduce my readership to two people.
First up, Jonathan Tan. National Junior College soccer captain, my classmate in upper secondary in St. Joseph's Institution and right-back for our glorious Josephians-and-a-few-others football team, TLFC. A close homie, Jon is one of the few people I can freely and intellectually discuss porn with.
Next, I would like to introduce all of you to Geraldine Lee. This girl can dance, and is smarter than Singaporeans who couldn't make it to RJC, which is a LOT of Singaporeans. And don't give me the shit bout 'they work hard and have no life'. Cos this woman is a terrific cocktail of flair, life and brains.
These two have nothing much in common except well, they're Chinese. But I have one thing to say to the both of them:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!
Okay those two had their ego boost and now it's my turn. I got my testimonial from school, and since they don't put in my less attractive points in there, I'm putting up the shit here.
My Testimonial edited by Ms Tan Wee Bee and Ms Helen Goh
Suffian was a student of SAJC from 2003 to 2004 where he pursued a course in the Science faculty.
He has a fun-loving spirit and was well-liked by his friends (what do you mean was?), who found him to have a good listening ear whenever they faced problems. He had (had?) an active social life and was well-known for his outgoing personality. Together with his classmates, Suffian served the community through the cleaning of one-room flats, inhabited by the old and lonely.
Suffian was always very keen when it came to giving his perspectives on issues being debated on. He is open-minded and is never afraid to articulate his opinions in front of others. Well-read and knowledgeable, he could easily take part in class discussions.
With his athletic build and explosive running ability (hahahahahahahaha!!!), he joined Rugby and Track and Field. His pace and speed (which is basically the same thing) made him a useful asset to the team and he took part in the National 'A' Division Track and Field Championships in July 2004. His influence spread to the team and he constantly encouraged his team-mates and instilled them with a winning mentality, which is essential to any sport or game. Suffian was also a member of the Malay Language Society where he started the first Sepak Takraw competition. As the Loyfatt House Captain, his entertaining speeches made him a favourite with everyone who listened to him ("...Finding Nemo is a story about uh, fish..."). He loved working with people and was closely associated with the House Council. A good stage performer, he produced and acted in the Teacher's Day concert in 2003 and was equally at home with comedy, dances or raps. He was also the Energy/IT Representative for the class and had dutifully fulfilled his responsibilities.
Suffian would be an asset to any organization that could tap into his people-oriented skills.
Not bad eh? Notice though, that they did not include anything academic. Fer shizzle ma nizzle! Aiite peace out.
Friday, December 10, 2004
Complete Idiot's Guide To Discreet Wanking
Introduction
Wanking - to spank the monkey, to polish one's trophy, to do a Hand Solo on one's lightsabre, to extract soya bean milk, to ding the dong - we all know HOW to do it, but most of us don't really know when or where to do it. How many of us have been tending to our penises when in comes mom or dad, catching us red-headed/handed as we scan the glazed pages of FHM or Playboy or surfed through the Shangri-Las of internet porno? How many of us even handled that situation properly?
Any of you tried going, "Hey, mom/dad, it's normal! Everybody else does it!" and received a lecture about morality instead?
Then this is the perfect guide for you!
The 4 Ws of Pre-Wanking
Okay, that girl on TV was hot as hell, or you just spied on your 83-year-old neighbour walking around in her lingerie. Or maybe you just had thoughts of sex in that perverted little brain of yours. Need some instant relief? Well, before you whip out your eternal Significant Other, think of this: What if you get caught? Can you handle the consequences? What if you don't get caught, but you stain the entire place with your semen? Your mom KNOWS the smell of semen, trust me, so the 'Oh it's just gel/milk/diet pepsi' crock won't work when your mom asks you bout the stains.
Well, think no more my friends, for it's time for me to tell you the 4 Ws of Pre-Wanking:
1) Watch. I don't mean your mom, you sick fuck. I mean watch out for possible ways of getting caught. Are the curtains drawn? Are the doors locked? Will people passing by hear Asia Carrera moaning? Locate these problems, and fix them, and you're a quarter of your way there.
2) Wait. Preferably until nobody's at home. Pragmatically, just wait until anybody who needs to enter your room/toilet to do or get stuff have done so. Make sure everybody's taken a shower, your daddy has already sniffed your underwear, pesky little room-invading siblings are asleep or have been bashed up and all that shit.
3) Wutang Clan. Whether you're beating to their beats or to their videos, nothing beats the Wutang Clan in providing Wank Material. Except straight-out porn, which gets boring. And women in porno moaning loud enough to wake Tupac are more likely to get you caught than Inspectah Deck going 'I puts the needle to the groove....'. Sure you think he's talking bout spinning records, but read closely and think again. Still, it's more parent-friendly than moaning, despite being shit gramatically and holding slight wanking references.
And after all that...
4) Wank!
Ok, everything's set. You've minimized the chances of getting caught. The music vid for Ain't Nuthin Ta Fuck Wit (subtle irony there, sial) by Wutang Clan's playing on your media player. Lubricant? Well, there's hand lotion, there's this intricate mixture of soap and water, there's KY Jelly. If you're perverted as fuck, try chilli sauce. So you whip out your member, and you start giving it a spitshine. But as you do so, do not forget the 4 Ss of Wanking:
1) Sanitation. Don't wank with yesterday's mouldy chcicken soup for lubricant man. You want orgasms, not organisms on your dick.
2) Slow. If you don't want premature ejaculation while you have sex, don't get premature ejaculations while you wank. This is all practice, fellas. Take it slow... Enjoy Redman's thick, rhythmic ghetto swirl, contemplate about the lives of the girls in the videos, wonder how they came up with a chink-ass name like Wutang. Wutang Clan have had over 10 years of music, videos and music videos. There's still a lot to wank over.
3) Steady. Ok, it's coming but don't shake it everywhere like its a polaroid picture. You're gonna leave stains to catch Anwar Ibrahim. And we wouldn't want to impregnate the house pests now would we? You definitely won't want to discuss child support with a cockroach. So have lots of tissue paper to shoot into, or aim up so your semen'll fall back on you. Then wipe the stuff up with tissue paper.
And when all that's set...
4) Shoot!!!!
After that, all you have to do is hit the shower and have a nice, sumptious post-wank meal. I recommend pancake with maple syrup. If you're more perverted than most, you can wash-up and eat after you've spread your semen all over your face. Whatever it is, do wash-up. You can wank to the dirtiest shit porno actors/actresses can sink to but for the sake of the people who interact with you on a daily basis, practice some hygiene, please.
Now, what if you get caught? Well, then things can go two ways. One, you may get buttfucked and receive lectures about morality. You're most likely Catholic or Muslim. Or, you can try to dig yourself out of the situation by saying one of these, whichever applies to your predicament:
"Ooh hey mom. I was checking for bumps, in case I have penile cancer."
"Hey dad. (Alluring smile)"
"Hey mom look, I can make a fountain!"
"I think I bruised my penis while playing soccer just now."
"Hey mom! This? Oh it's just some white cream I put on my penis so that uh, it won't uh, fall off. Like yours did."
You can come up with your own. Just use your creativity.
There's nothing to discreet wanking, really. Just use your brains and know your parents' viewpoint of it, and you can twist your explanations so that it'll turn out to be something they'd buy. All that aside, it's just you, your penis, your left hand (right hand to click on the mouse), wads of tissue paper and pure, masturbational bliss.
So happy wanking, and happy not-getting caught. Peace out.
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