Shrine in the Ether

It was race day at Interlagos, Brazil, yesterday, (1am today, Singapore time) and as luck would have it, about an hour before the F1 GP was to start, the TV went bust. Actually, it was the electrical outlet where the TV set is plugged into that isn’t working after it shorted a while back.

I thought to get a repairman earlier but what do you know? The local phone book doesn’t have a listing for electricians so it’s either Singaporeans never experience any household electrical problems or they call electricians by a different name like Bolt Masters, Wire Warriors or something and they need to be summoned by a mystical spell unearthed from Anak-sanamun’s ancient tomb.

I simply have no idea where else to look so yeah, I figured I could either enroll in a technical school, get a degree in electrical engineering or a similar field and fix the problem myself in about a year or so, or I could just cart the TV to the nearest working outlet in the house which is in the dining room. Okay, I could simply have bought an extension cord and life would have been so much easier but I forgot so sue me you know me, I thrive in distress...

Anyway, so I flexed my non-existent muscles and began to heave the chunky 40” Jurassic Era television set and was instantly reduced to a puddle on the floor. WTF??? I couldn’t even budge the thing a measly inch! And I’m someone who can replace 5 gallon water dispenser bottles with little effort…oh, well…there's no way I'll be making the pages of Boing Boing the following morning so I abandoned all plans of moving the TV.

On to plan C, then…the internet!

Horror of all horrors! There’s not a single free live stream, video or audio, of F1 races anywhere in the net! BBC Five Live has a notice up saying they cannot continue with live F1 audio webcasts because of copyright issues. Eh? And we’re wondering why F1, supposedly the grand daddy of all motorsports, cannot even compare to say, curling, or mud wrestling in popularity! Bernie’s preoccupation with elitism and exclusivity is just ridiculous…

And what are the chances of the only video webcaster, RSBN, being robbed of ALL of their broadcast equipment not too long ago on August 5 thus having to stop operations? Can you say pathetic? I wouldn’t be surprised if this is an evil scheme plotted by Mr. Ecclestone, himself though...

But most unfortunate of it all…Fernando Alonso became the youngest ever F1 World Champion robbing Kimi Raïkkönen blind of the honor…the perfect ending to a perfect story...Now excuse me while I writhe in perfect misery...

I was reading a magazine article the other day and the writer insisted that happiness is a choice. We all choose to be either happy or miserable. Sure, whatever, I’m sold. Enough with all these negative thoughts and ranting about random stuff I have no control over, endlessly. It sure can get tiring at times. I’m going to make more of an effort to make life worthier of living. I'm going to be, gasp! Positive.

So with a zest that will rival that of a freshly picked lemon, I got myself a funky writing pad and prepared to take note of little everyday miracles that would happen in my workaday life. It is actually a variation of Oprah’s “Happy Book”…you know, the one that documents at least three happy things that happen to you everyday. Oprah vows that being more aware of these things is all supposed to make you more optimistic and thus, happy.

Alrighty then.

So I opened the first page of my spanking new pad and set off to scribble something on my very first miraculous discovery. Hmm…it was proving to be quite a tedious task. Oh well, the first time is always hard…hmm…more thinking…until, aha! I know what to write about - eye creams! Here’s why…

You see, they’re worth the annual income of about a couple hundred Mauritian sweatshop workers per ounce and I’m sure you would agree that it’s indeed a miracle that people buy them at all for being so friggin’ useless!

Um yeah, I can’t think of anything else. That has got to do for now.

Hey, I tried.

Amazing. It’s nearly that time of the month and yet I woke up to an über clear, even glowing, skin this morning instead of the pus mountain revue that breaks into a song-and-dance extravaganza on my mug all too often. It’s almost enough to land an Elizabeth Arden print ad campaign provided I can also fake the impossibly high cheekbones that every one of those synthetic models possesses with an ultra-tight ponytail.

Something is amiss. Gravely amiss.

Alright, I guess I should just be happy but I’m almost too scared to be. I’m convinced that this is the kind of calm that precedes a catastrophe, you know? But what the hell, I should prolly find a venue to parade my billboard-worthy visage. You know what they say, enjoy while it lasts.

Speaking of which, the circus is in town! It just might be the place to get discovered for a new designer skin line and hopefully not Chin Chin Su, too…

This stuff is nasty. Just nasty.

So I’m watching Cirque du Soleil’s “Quidam” this weekend. I really wish I’m going with a Scandinavian supermodel-type whose 6 foot 3, rock-hard body could resist a point-blank kitchen cleaver attack but no, I’ll be with Brad Pitt Kimi Raikkonen Orlando Bloom my sister, instead. But anyway…

Tagged to be Cirque’s best production ever, Quidam is purported to be quite deep, psychological, unsettling even terrifying. Sounds perfect for drama queens like moi who thrive in utter wretchedness. Now only a bloodbath scene, preferably one that involves a helical fulcrum and an oversized soup spoon, would make it even cooler in my book…

I recently purchased a copy of “Prozac Nation,” too, which should ensure that the gloom goes on and on long after the circus tent had been knocked down and the cast’s bone-breaking feats are but a distant mist in a past long gone. What can I say? Tragedizing things is an art form and I’ve mastered it. So all you aspiring protégées of the art, just send me a letter of intent and I’d get back to you.

Cheers!

And yep, take that literally.

That’s the tagline of the HufuTM brand whose site I found from Random Good Stuff, an interesting site that I frequent.

Hufu, ladies and gentlemen, stands for ta-dah! “Human Tofu.”

To say I am appalled is an understatement. There’s actually a market for mock meat “designed to resemble, as humanly possible, the taste and texture of human flesh”??? Jesus swinging in a tree! It’s got to be a joke but no, the site assures visitors that the product indeed, exists. How comforting. Ugh.

It was supposedly originally conceived for “students of Anthropology hungry for the experience of cannibalism but deterred by the legal and logistical obstacles. Whada??? I guess we should be wary when an Anthropology major invites us to dinner, eh? Lest you end up on the table as the main course!

Granted, cannibalism still survives in certain indigenous cultures but for some yobbo (a Tuck MBA student at that) to introduce such a concept to the civilized society? God, I just don’t know what to say. The educational system sure is failing.

And I thought Southern Chinese people are barbaric for eating cats! Now, I love cats and in my mind, that practice is simply inexcusable, but cat-eating just sooo pales in comparison to this Hufu creation. And I don’t give a friggin’f*ck that it’s not even real human flesh. The idea is still sickening.

And worse, the creators affirm that manufacturing the product is perfectly legal and that “any national attempts to outlaw HufuTM in any member state of the European Union are subject to countervailing EU law and hence invalid.” Right. Leave it to enterprising f*cktards to abuse their civil liberties and cash in on an opportunity that I had no idea existed..

You know you need to go on a diet when you look at your thighs and they remind you of a pair of molting geese.

Not that it’s necessarily bad to have shedding birds for thighs. As I’ve said before, I’m a fan of imperfections, scars, freckles and the rare third nipple. In fact, I love seeing girls who have no qualms about exposing their gigantic bums and distended bellies and no mom, it’s not because I like girls that way…yeah, you can breathe easy…

Anyway, you see, I’m all for self-loving. And with that, I mean accepting and being comfortable with what you’ve got although that er, other sense is fine, too. Granted, I’ve had a lunatic phase when I did cardio and strength-training for three hours every single day and ate nothing but apples for a full three months. So did I achieve my goal? Hell, no but show me an apple and I’d ram it down your throat. That’s how much I came to hate the stuff.


Apples are so so evil…

So why am I thinking of dieting all of a sudden when I’d really much rather have my head bitten off by a gargoyle inflicted with the Black Death? Well, I’ve been quite happy with myself for a while but the stresses of moving to a new country and starting a new job sure wreaked havoc on my poor mammoth little body.

The sleek cat tattooed on my left hipbone is looking more like a jaguar nowadays - one that feasted on a few hundred gazelles in one seating. Lumpy is just not the same as curvy so yeah, the geese have got to go.

I discovered the ultimate source of nonstop entertainment for those days when nothing but bashing other people could make you feel better. Come on now don’t be shy, we all get those moments. You wake up feeling as useless as man nipples one morning and no amount of Ben and Jerry’s Oreo Mint ice cream could convince you that life is worth living.

Why not drop by at Bad Tattoos (We love to Hate ‘Em) and take a particularly vile stab at the morons who thought it was the best idea since sliced bread to get a “Native American Vampire/Slut Humping a Corn Dog” tattoo? It’s quite liberating I assure you and a barrel of laughs, too.

This sample does not even begin to describe the wealth of materials unearthed by devoted members from god knows where some of which are just so positively horrifying that no matter how shock absorbent you are, you would eventually need some proper trauma therapy. O-kay. That after effect kind of defeats our original purpose but what the heck? This site is a joy to behold!

Thank god, I don’t remember ever posting any pix of my own tattoos anywhere in the internet or I would have been bludgeoned to death by the deliciously ruthless mockery that pervades the forum by now. From what I have read and seen so far, the members do not like tribal, kanji and stars, all of which I have. I’d like to believe that mine have been done in good, albeit simplistic, taste though and I love every one of them so screw, well whoever...

Whoa! Can you believe this deal?


Click image for full details

And I’ve been spending at least S$12 for cab fare to work when I can fly to all these tourist destinations for less? I’m sure there are hidden charges and what-nots but still…

Then again with budget airlines crashing here and there of late, I can’t help but be paranoid about the whole idea of ultra-cheap travel. My innards spread around a thicket like Mexican Chili is not a particularly appealing prospect to me...nosiree but, mmm...chili...