Cat Show Redux

When I was in my first year of university, I had big plans.
I sat in for advance calculus classes and made it in time for 8am lectures.
I did my research and was adamant that I would make a switch to BSc (Medical Science) in my 2nd year, and at the end of the 3 year stint, make it to Grad Med.

That lasted all of 2 weeks.
You see, there was the Singapore Society, a new relationship, new friends and places to explore, plus the fact that I was an immature, ungrateful, spoilt and petulant child that didn’t know better.

During my 3 year extended holiday, I would however, look longingly at fellow unimates who made it to the Golden Key International Honour Society, something I promised myself I would aim for during those first 2 weeks. Invitations to which were only extended to students who were in the top 15 percentile of their cohort. I knew I was underachieving, but I was having too much fun to care.

So, it was a huge surprise when I received a package containing an invitation letter to and information about Golden Key 2 weeks ago, informing me that I belonged to the top 15 percentile of my cohort for the recent degree. It has been 2 weeks and I have yet to send in my acceptance. I think part of me still cannot believe that I acutally deserve this prestige. It is all too surreal.

I recounted this to Lump and he said:
"When I was a poor student in melbourne, going for film festival after film festival, watching XXX's (local director) films, and longing for the day that I could make films of that calibre, I would have never in my wildest imagination think that one day I would have the opportunity to play advisor to this person".

As wiseman say: "In a land with no snow, the Jamaican bobsled team dreamt of winning the olympics, and they went and got it."

If you want it bad enough, you can do just about anything.
The question is...how badly do you want it?

Anyone been to Taipei before?
Where to go, what to see, what to do.

Any recommendations are very warmly welcomed.

Venereal Facial Delight

Low and behold! The only souvenir I brought back from Seoul is the friendly Herpes virus, more accurately, oral herpes (most probably thanks to HSV-1) aka bastard cold sore. The feel and look of which has a tendency to incite me to equate my facial lips to lips...elsewhere. Comon! It's a variant of the genital one for crying out loud! I feel disgusting.

Lesson: Bring lip balm and start smearing the thick gunk from the time you board plane till after you bid a second goodbye to some of our not-so-friendly ah lians in blue (sometimes green or red) sarong kebayas (Gill, you is not be included in this group!).

It might have been the stress of work, or, what I would like to attribute to: having to share the same breathing space with my soon-to-be ex manager, the arrogant english pervert who frequents $25USD per night Cambodian whores, who if I am not mistaken, was sporting some fashionable herpes pals of his own on his lower chin, no doubt from putting his lips to herpes infected lips...elsewhere.

Geez I hate cold sores!

New Friends

Oyster Boy


The Boy with Nails in his Eyes


Perfect fit in the ever growing hoard of oddities.