mercredi, octobre 29, 2003 I doubt that I'll be downloading Napster again, but their cute animations about its own resurrection are pretty nifty.Libellés : music [Napster's back.] |
mardi, octobre 28, 2003 oh.. so that's how they do it... Marcus Ormond's favourite song, "When I'm Sixty-Four", eventually led to his password: simply MLO (uppercase) converted to MIME-BASE64 encoding, which is "TUxP". This led to his calendar and two files: scans of two pieces of paper, possibly printouts or faxes of heismissing.info and sheismissing.info. The scanned pages also included a bunch of hand-written notes. [from here]Wow, that password was easy to crack. Libellés : music [oh.. so that's how they do it...] |
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everything that has a beginning has an end... except when there's still money to be made out of it Approximately 130+ humans found already.He is Missing (HIM) http://www.heismissing.info 2003-10-01 Little Boxes (LB) http://www.little-boxes.net 2003-10-01 MetaCortex (MC) http://www.metacortechs.com 2003-10-01 MetaDex (MD) http://www.metadex.net 2003-10-01 PaintOver (PO) http://www.paintover.net 2003-10-01 She is Missing (SIM) http://www.sheismissing.info 2003-10-01 The Aquapolis (AQ) http://www.theaquapolis.com 2003-10-01 Underscore Hosting (USH) http://www.underscorehosting.com 2003-10-01 Holy crap Vic, you'll be the death of me. The W brothers rule! And I'm only listing the websites that I've visited... I wanna check out the PaintOver graphics; do you know how do to render them in binary to convert them back to ASCII? I NEED TO SEE IT FOR MYSELF. This is TOO COOL. [everything that has a beginning has an end... except when there's still money to be made out of it] |
dimanche, octobre 26, 2003 bill dill fill gill hill jill kill mill pill rill sill till will zill little bit of time before the official shut eye to tell everyone - watch kill bill.[bill dill fill gill hill jill kill mill pill rill sill till will zill] |
jeudi, octobre 23, 2003 It was quite a nice little place... It was quite a nice little place that she brings me to, all tucked away in a corner of the world. Although the shophouse is tiny, the actual (s)eating space traverses the area of the shophouse to across the street, where tables are set up, dimly-lit by the orange street-lamps. As we pass, I thought I saw a guy slouched against the old-fashioned metal sliding grilles, pipe trailing from his mouth, smoke coming from his nostrils and a daze glazing in his unperturbed eyes. Beside him, a sheesha-bong. “I’ve always wanted to eat here,” she says to me. Why, I wonder. Vic and Az have been trying to drag me to this place for months, but their greater motivation wasn’t food, that’s for sure. “Come lah, come lah May, you have to try! Can’t beat the shit we tried in KL (10 ringgit only okay!), but still passable… anyway beggars can’t be choosers,” Az would say. “But it’s got tobacco inside, and I don’t smoke,” my protest would go. I smile as I remember the time when they first discovered their mutual sheesha habit. It was during the thesis-writing period of honours year. It’s good thesis-relief, like breathing in flavoured air, Vic told me once, trying again (unsuccessfully) to get me to go sheesha-ing with them. Perfectly healthy, Az said. Then, the discovery of tobacco. http://www.tobacco.org/news/132360.html One Sheesha Is Equivalent to Smoking 18 Cigarettes Source: Arab News (sa), 2003-07-16 Author: Maha Akeel * Arab News Staff Sheesha smoking involves puffing away at a charcoal filled glass and clay contraption, which is filled with small tufts of tobacco that have been marinated in flavours such as apricot, mint or pandan. “I always come after I’ve eaten my dinner already, so I never get to try their food, and I’ve always wanted to,” she said, breaking my reverie. “I don’t want to sheesha though,” I said quickly. “It’s okay, neither do I; we’ll just eat,” she said, looking around for a seat. We sat down and ordered, and I took a look around. So this was what the noise was all about. Grimy floors. Turkish-Arabic-local food. Single unisex toilet (thankfully clean.) Stoned-looking people. And a news crew. Apparently, the place is getting famous – famous enough for channelnewsasia to send a team down to cover the story. I watched them interview someone who seemed to be the owner as she and I chatted about the inconsequential. “How late is this place open until?” I suddenly asked. “24 hours,” she said smugly. “Amazing right?” No kidding. A good 24-hour hour place to eat is hard to find. Just ask me and my neighbour. Sometimes on the weekend, we cruise around the place, thinking hard of a good nice place just to chill without seeming too poseur about it. We always seem to end up at Holland V's NYDC. Pathetic does not even seem to cover it. Suddenly, a flash of green catches my eye. Think of the devil, I grinned. The fish-head has arrived to police the place. I run out, we greet each other, and then he tells me, “Eh, later Vic coming leh.” I tell him I will join them later, and rejoin her at our table. Our conversation ends for the night, and we wish each other well, till we meet again. I walk to the tables across the road (who was the first one to start asking that chicken joke?), and see Vic’s contented face. He presses me to try his sheesha, and I finally do. Double coke and mint? Cough mixture. In for a penny, in for a pound – no longer a sheesha virgin, I try Az’s hubbly bubbly too (is that what they’re calling it these days?). Apple? Apricot? Again, the waxing lyrical about the sheesha in KL by For the sheesha place Libellés : singapore [It was quite a nice little place...] |
mardi, octobre 21, 2003 While clearing up my table to make way for a night of memorising french verbs (present as well as a few for past tense( like voir, lire, boire; attendre, entendre, r�pondre, perdre; devoir, prendre, dire, and of course, the bloody exceptions faire, etre and avoir), I stumble upon some application forms. Top left hand corner: "MDIS: Management Development Institute of Singapore founded 1956". Almost immediately in my mind, Az's goofy face grinning at me through the glass of Nanyang Poly's Block K, level 5, holding up a piece of paper on the glass, upon which was written "DON'T PANIC. HELP IS ON THE WAY." In ballpoint pen. Like I could see a ballpoint inked message from 4m away.Those poor folks. Some history: I taught computer literacy at Nanyang Poly for a day during the Great Singapore Surf. Mostly to old folks who didn't know how to switch on a computer. From a class size of 9, it burgeoned to 20+ as people signed up on the spot. Old folk, 20+ participants, and my inability to help all of them due to their differing levels of computer literacy, created my distress. This was noticed by Az, who reacted in typical fashion. Thanks, brother. :) [Help is on the way] |
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It is quite a nice little place that she brings me to, all tucked away in a corner of the world. Although the shophouse is tiny, the actual (s)eating space traverses the area of the shophouse to across the street, where tables are set up, dimly-lit by the orange street-lamps. As we pass, I thought I saw a guy slouched against the old-fashioned metal sliding grilles, pipe trailing from his mouth, smoke coming from his nostrils and a daze glazing in his unperturbed eyes. Beside him, a sheesha-bong.
"I've always wanted to eat here," she says to me. Why, I wonder. Vic and Az have been trying to drag me to this place for months, but their greater motivation wasn't food, that's for sure. "Come lah, come lah May, you have to try! Can't beat the shit we tried in KL (10 ringgit only okay!), but still passable! Anyway beggars can't be choosers," Az would say. I smile as I remember the time when they first discovered their mutual sheesha habit. It was during the thesis-writing period of honours year. It's good thesis-relief, like breathing in flavoured air, Vic told me once, trying again (unsuccessfully) to get me to go sheesha-ing with them. Perfectly healthy, Az said. Then, the discovery of tobacco. http://www.tobacco.org/news/132360.html "I always come after I've eaten my dinner already, so I never get to try their food, and I've always wanted to," she said, breaking my reverie. "I don't want to sheesha though," I said quickly. "It's okay, neither do I; we'll just eat," she said, looking around for a seat. We sat down and ordered, and I took a look around. So this was what the noise was all about. Grimy floors. Turkish-Arabic-local food. Single unisex toilet (thankfully clean.) Stoned-looking people. And a news crew. Apparently, the place is getting famous : famous enough for channelnewsasia to send a team down to cover the story. I watched them interview someone who seemed to be the owner as she and I chatted about the inconsequential. "How late is this place open until?" I suddenly asked. "24 hours," she said smugly. "Amazing right?" No kidding. A good 24-hour hour place to eat is hard to find. Just ask me and my neighbour. Sometimes on the weekend, we cruise around the place, thinking hard of a good nice place just to chill without seeming too poseur about it. We always seem to end up at Holland V's NYDC. Pathetic does not even seem to cover it. Suddenly, a flash of green catches my eye. Think of the devil, I grinned. The fish-head has arrived to police the place. I run out, we greet each other, and then he tells me, "Eh, later Vic coming leh." I tell him I will join them later, and rejoin her at our table. Our conversation ends for the night, and we wish each other well, till we meet again. I walk to the tables across the road (who was the first one to start asking that chicken joke?), and see Vic's contented face. He presses me to try his sheesha, and I finally do. Double coke and mint? Cough mixture. In for a penny, in for a pound : no longer a sheesha virgin, I try Az's hubbly bubbly too (is that what they're calling it these days?). Apple? Apricot? Orange? I can't remember, but in any case, it was better than the medicine. Again, the waxing lyrical about the sheesha in KL by Az. I watch his animated gestures with amusement. The sheesha must have been either very damn good, or it was laced with a controlled substance, I thought to myself. I might have said it out loud. It doesn't matter. Nothing really seems to matter much in a place like this, where BMWs are not beemers but an order for a Big Mineral Water, where the waiters carry around hot pans half-filled with glowing embers, where the floor is grimy but the stores open 24-7, when you're just chilling with your friends. [ sheesha@arab.st] |
lundi, octobre 20, 2003 A young lady named Sally, relates an experience she had in a seminary class, given by her teacher, Dr. Smith. She says that Dr. Smith was known for his elaborate object lessons.One particular day, Sally walked into the seminary and knew they were in for a fun day. On the wall was a big target and on a nearby table were many darts. Dr. Smith told the students to draw a picture of someone that they disliked or someone who had made them angry, and he would allow them to throw darts at the person's picture. Sally's friend drew a picture of her ex-boyfriend, who had dumped her unceremoniously. Another friend drew a picture of his little brother. Sally drew a picture of a former friend, putting a great deal of detail into her drawing, even drawing pimples on the face. Sally was pleased with the overall effect she had achieved. The class lined up and began throwing darts. Some of the students threw their darts with such force that their targets were ripping apart. Sally looked forward to her turn, and was filled with disappointment when Dr. Smith, because of time limits, asked the students to return to their seats. As Sally sat thinking about how angry she was because she didn't have a chance to throw any darts at her target. Dr. Smith began removing the target from the wall. Underneath the target was a picture of Jesus. A hush fell over the room as each student viewed the mangled picture of Jesus; holes and jagged marks covered his face and his eyes were pierced. Dr. Smith said only these words... "In as much as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me." Matthew 25:40. [Story] |
samedi, octobre 18, 2003 
I like! New alternative to the jaded "make love not war" hippie slogan. Stolen from kris. And a very belated thank you to Vic and Azhar for introducing me to sheesha. Now I know for a fact that my body doesn't like it. :) [get fuzzie!] |
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The UN finally replied to my email about the application.
"You will receive notification regarding your admission to the written examination in November. You may also check the listing of application numbers posted on our website by the end of December. En novembre, vous serez informé quant votre admission l'épreuve cérite. Vous pourrez aussi verifier les listes des numéros de candidature sur l'Internet en fin décembre." Now all I have to do is get really really really smart by next year. Oops, I think another brain cell just committed a suicide bombing, my left brain has been bombed back to the dark ages. [Finally!] |
mercredi, octobre 15, 2003 2nd day at work, here on LPSD. Maybe I should start up another blog, just to blog at work - or rather, when I'm at work but not at work. (geddit? GEDDIT?) And I never noticed before, but the acronym for the name of this blog looks a lot like the acronym for acid. (and just as I type this, my 12-year old neighbour suddenly breaks from her classical banging-on-the-piano repertoire to suddenly play the wedding march. Must be the LSD.)[#2] |
lundi, octobre 13, 2003 First day of work! *nervous energy*Wonder what it holds in store for me... [#1] |
samedi, octobre 11, 2003 On things close to your heart... Oh man, where on earth have I been?! An hour ago, I thought that the last revolution in video codec technology was divx (with its requisite bootleg divx:), as well as the underground RV9), but apparently there's something else called xvid on the market, for MPEG-4 compliant video. They boast the usual stuff of course - a better compression rate than divx, better RAM utilisation during encoding, etc etc.However, what's interesting is that on the official website (www.xvid.org), they only distribute source code - and the only way that you can get an executable installer file is when you download it from someone who has compiled it by themselves (with a C/C++ compiler like Microsoft Visual C++ (for Windows) or gcc (for Linux) ) - with or without further development on their part. This means there is no such thing as an "official release" for the codec. Isn't that great? Another thing about the distribution - they used to distribute the codec in binary form, which is a brilliant idea for software distribution. If all software were distributed in binary form (or perhaps even compiled source code), intellectual property rights laws would quite effectly be bypassed (for now), because the law is still very fuzzy on the idea of intellectual property in the form of a series of ones and zeros. Imagine what the RIAA would do if we started trading mp3s online in the forms of ones and zeros, with everyone having a compiler to compile these ones and zeros back into audio? Tr�s cool! [On things close to your heart...] |
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Crayola to Introduce Four New Colors EASTON, Pa. (AP) -- You won't find magic mint or blizzard blue in that Crayola crayon box anymore. Mulberry and teal blue are gone, too.Taking their places: jazzberry jam, mango tango, inchworm and wild blue yonder. The new colors are being added to replace the four that were retired as part of a competition to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the crayon company. Crayola officials had selected five colors to be removed from their collection that they considered redundant or unattractive, but allowed one to be spared through an online vote... Read more...>>> Whatever will we do without magic mind or blizzard blue? And how will we colour a mulberry bush without the colour "mulberry"? The world is coming to an end! [Crayola to Introduce Four New Colors ] |
vendredi, octobre 10, 2003 Car je connais les projets que j'ai formés sur vous, dit l'éternel, projets de paix et non de malheur, afin de vous donner un avenir et de l'espérance.[Jérémie 29:11] |
jeudi, octobre 09, 2003 Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning - therefore we do not lose heart, for our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us a forever glory that far outweighs them all. So I fix my eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. So please bear all my weakness; knowing in meekness, I have a kingdom to gain...***** From my mother: We are settling the a/cs these 2 days. The night after the funeral, Cheng See (Ji Ee) had a dream where my mother was walking towards her with a smile on her face , looking younger and more plump dressed in the slacks we dressed her in and her favourite shirt we had packed in her coffin. She was in a place full of flowers .So we guess everything is fine. It was a Roman Catholic ceremony because Sa Ee had her baptised (a couple of years) earlier. I wonder what heaven's really like. There's literature on the subject from the Bible - streets paved with gold, a storehouse of plenty, the great high dwelling place, God's house with many rooms prepared, but I think no earthly description can prepare for the actual arrival... I hope she's there. [The pain won't last forever. ] |
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This quiet hour of 4 -
we are lovers, you and I (though I probably share you with countless others; nonetheless you never kiss and tell) You are a quiet one. Looking over me as friends stop blinking, one by one their flowers closing their petals and shutting their eyes And you were there. By me. Quiet in my solitude Quiet in our silence Quiet in that hush those soft, restrained hours before dawn - I love wrapping myself in your embrace the darkness pliable around my shoulders. It was a cloak which wore me well which I wore well to contemplate code, rehearse rhymes and generally live life, sitting cross-legged on my chair. Or just sit, thinking nothing at all, revelling in the ability to sit, thinking nothing at all. The inevitable race we run has called, and I must return from this pit-stop; I am long overdue. So take this cloak black, shake out the smell of those soft, restrained hours before dawn smooth away the creases from the code and fold it up neatly. Put it by the chair I used to dream on thinking all and nothing at all. I thank the owner muchly for its use. (Now hark and listen. The clock strikes the hours one-two-three-) 2:26am 9 October 2003 [Disquiet] |
mercredi, octobre 08, 2003 Wah seh. NUS gives 21 days of leave. *open eyes big big*And apparently they're so desperate for help that my application is being pushed like nobody's business through the proper channels. My computer centre account is being registered today so that I'll be able to use the computer by Monday, my NUS staff card will be processed as soon as I get a picture into their office, and they want me to start ASAP. I was strongly encouraged to sign the contract today, and went and got all my medical examination and x-rays done today. When I joked about being able to start immediately, the HR officer visibly started forward and said, "Really?" in an "it-would-be-really-great-if-you-did" way. I suspect there is a nefarious plan to work me to death being plotted and planned gleefully by the senior secretary. [Got leave?] |
mardi, octobre 07, 2003 Today, the Office of Human Resources from NUS called and told me their offer ($) for the music conservatory job. And it's exactly what I prayed for. Woo-hoo! Praise God!Tomorrow, I go to NUS to listen to the terms of employment etc. I'm nervous about it - I have this feeling at the pit of my stomach, like I'm going for an exam that I haven't studied for at all. Somehow, I don't think I'm qualified to make such a decision - signing an employment contract. Shouldn't that come with a parental consent form or something? "I, ( n a m e ) , mother/father/guardian of ( n a m e ) , give my consent for him/her to work at ( p l a c e ) ." (* delete where appropriate) 23 years of life, 16 of which were spent being "educated", should have involved some form of prepping me for this moment, and yet I still feel that I'm in an inadequate position to make a decision about my life. Is it just me? Of course, this begs the question - or statement - are any of us really in any position to make any decisions at all, being always in an imperfect state of knowledge? I guess the best we can do is to pray, pray, pray, make the decision, then pray and then leave the rest in God's hands. ps - Az, I don't earn enough to qualify for a credit card, so shhh. And to those who know how much I earn - well, you know what I can't afford :) In other totally unrelated news My mother wrote from Malaysia to say that the funeral went well, and my 3 year old nephew was asking for me! *happy* [Working Girl] |
dimanche, octobre 05, 2003 She passed away this morning, just a little later after I arrived home at 6am, which is actually a relief because when was I there, her stomach was distended quite badly because her internal organs were shutting down one by one, and her body wasn't processing her food. She refused to eat much, 50ccs of milk at the most orally, but doctors said she needed to take down at least 200ccs at each meal. We ended up having to feed her through the catheter, which ran from her nose to her stomach, but she didn't like it very much, and ended up restless the entire night last night before passing on late this morning. The family was prepared for this, and so now the funeral arrangements are being settled and all in Malaysia.Rest well, Ah Ma. (more cheerful updates on 5-year-old cousins and 3-year old nephew-once-removed as soon as I feel up to it.) [About my grandma] |
mercredi, octobre 01, 2003 (yeah Kris, I am. but you know how it is...)Hey peeps, I'm off to Malaysia for a couple of days; my grandma is in the hospital (my mom was a Malaysian before she married my dad) in Perak. She's old, she's 91 at least, she's got Alzhimer's, doesn't recognise anybody, I don't know her at all (language barrier plus she contracted Alzhimer's just as I started speaking - or more accurately - learning some basic words in hokkien) so I'm not broken up about it, but she still is my grandma. So see you guys in a bit. I'll be back on Sunday for Jessie's baptism (ZB + QY+anyone else who knows Jess, it's at 3pm at Buona Vista Swimming Pool if you wanna come support her - her mom, aunt and grandma and maybe brother may be coming down, she requests that we pray that they come with open hearts... SMS me if you need anything more, I'm still on global roaming.) Technolust, jobhunts, and other guilty pleasures... I have been offered the position of Administrative Officer in the Yong Siew Toh Music Conservatory. And I think I'll be offered a job teaching at Republic Polytechnic. Taa-daa! Life is suddenly brighter with the prospect of buying that lovely 10/15/30gig iPod looming closer and closer.
In more other happy news... I was in Mango today, and bought a very very very pretty shirt... for $35. Head rush! I can't stop smiling. Mainly green, has nice patterns on it, but of course, the fun thing is the price tag. And the size tag.
Still more shi...stuff THE ONION SPOOFS THE NET AND WORKPLACE PRODUCTIVITY
[Escapist] |
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What is it All About?
Man, we have a webpage devoted solely to this ?? Public information taken to a whole new level. Wonder what the neighbours north of us have to say about this freely-shared information resource. [SINGAPORE AND MALAYSIA ISSUES ] |
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You're goin' down! FOR STALKING! Apparently, you all should be afraid. Very afraid. What Would You Go to Jail For? brought to you by Quizilla [You're goin' down! FOR STALKING!] |
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