Introducing... Guy in Paperbag

I have ALWAYS failed my art during my schooldays. Have always been envying people who can draw.

As part of my life's crossroads, I thought I'll just go thick-skin and attempt to draw. The quality of my drawing may be primary school standard, so please laugh quietly.

This is also a tribute to the great Stickgal, who has since quitted drawing stick figures.



It should be noted that imitation is the greatest form of complement. I even have to goggle for pictures of cliffs and stick figures to get this drawing done. That's how bad my art is.

All feedback are welcomed, both good and bad.
And ya, next time I will draw using a darker pencil.

5 stages of grief

I watched The Bucket List on HBO recently (know how much Nat like this show). The story about 2 old guys (played by Jack Nicholson & Morgan Freeman), who have about 6 months of life to live. So they came up with a list of extraordinary things to do before they... well kick the bucket. And hence the name of the movie.



In the show, they talked about the 5 stages of grief, which is a well-documented theory from an American psychiatrist (Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross).

When we experience the loss of someone, it hurts us alot, especially when we are caught by surprise. I attended the funeral of a friend recently. Poor chap is only 28years old, and he died after falling 8 metres in a ship. He leaves behind a young wife, and ageing parents. His father cried while we talked to him, and I had to place a hand at his shoulders - touch has a calming effect on people.

If you ever see someone grieving, do not ask him to stop. That's because griefing is a natural healing process. But that being said, monitor this person closely and give help if possible, especially if he gets stuck in any of the first 4 stages of grief.

So what are these 5 stages of grief?

1) Denial
As with the sudden lost of someone, it is sometimes hard for a person to believe that the deceased is gone all of a sudden. This stage may take long, especially if the deceased means the world to him. Often, this stage is coupled with the person not wanting to mix much with his contacts - he doesn't want to talk about it.

2) Anger
Assigning blame is a way to "justify" the unfortunate incident. He could be blaming himself, or blaming people who may not be directly involved in the incident.

3) Bargaining
The person start wondering about "What ifs". He have imaginary conversations with the Reaper, or whatever God he believes in, to strike a deal to bring him back. Not everyone goes through this stage, but heck it happens.

4) Depression
The person starts finding his life meaningless. He is sad and does not think about the future. He just wanna live in his sad sad world. If this persist, bring him to a doctor. There's drugs to alleviate depression, think of it like a sickness.

5) Acceptance
Finally, when all the first 4 stages are gone, he knows he has to plan for what's next. The mourning starts to diminish, and he moves on with life.

Only he can help himself walk out of the stages of grief. As friends, monitor him closely so he does not harbour silly thoughts. And take a little of your time to talk to him, it means the world to him.

Acknowledging faults

Everyone knows that I am not a big fan of finger-pointing.
In most cases, I will give people the benefit of a doubt.

In areas of work, I got to know an American colleague who always seem to volunteer to take up blame when things go wrong. I thought she was quite interesting, because in the corporate world, most people will be redirecting the flame back to someone else.

When I said that she is someone who take blames, do not envision her as one of those low confidence person who works with the head low. She is the direct opposite - cheerful, almost bubbly person with a "can do" attitude. A pure joy to work with.

[Chorus]
Don't you wish your colleague was nice as her
Don't you wish your colleague was a freak like her
Don't cha
Don't cha
[End]

When the focus from problem-solving goes towards finger-pointing, the "Why" and "How to" element of solving a problem diminishes and more focus goes to deciding who the "who" is. And that will normally end up confrontational, and the solution normally ends up being either avoiding, or suboptimal.

By acknowledging that it is her fault (though its not always really the case), this American colleague already sets the verdict that she is "solely responsible", and then move on to what she can do in future to reduce the chance of any similar occurence in future. With the "who" out of the way, both parties can happily work on the problems.

Often, problems at work is a result of poor planning or communication. And these are issues that can be worked on, as long as effort is focused on correcting it.

You run to the bus stop on a weekday morning, because you are late for work. The bus comes later than schedule by 15 mins, and you end up being late for work.

Don't blame the bus for being late.
Acknowledge it is your fault.

Because blaming the bus will not solve the problem.
Blaming yourself and then deciding that you should sleep and wake up 20 minutes earlier WILL likely solve (or reduce) the problem.

When you decide the blame is on someone else, there's not a damn thing you can do about it.
But when you acknowledge its your fault, then you EMPOWER yourself to solve it.

Why make war, when you can make love?

Eye of the ear

Maybe I am no longer young, those catchy bubbly teenage happy dance songs are appealing less to me these days. I have started going back to listening to new age music. Music that emits a more relaxed feel (and not as "boring" as classical music), music that you can just sit on the big couch listening to, and feel completely at ease and relaxed. And let the music feel the empty room (it helps alot with a good sound system).

Specifically, I like stuffs like Gregorian music, powerful Sarah Brightman vocals, celtic and world music, acid jazz (and not other type of "sleepy" jazz) and Era etc...

The mysterious yet beautiful feel of these music appeals to me, never mind that most are sung in Latin or other unknown language. Antonio Vivaldi has once said that "Music is the eye of the ear". It breaks all language barriers, opens up the ear, and the heart to relate to different kinds of moods. Music is contagious to the human spirit, and often, the lyrics or the tune relate to you in one way or another.

When one is alone, music becomes a friend.
Good music is akin to a good listener, one who emphatise with what you are feeling, and does not interrupt your thoughts, it create the perfect atmosphere for you to dance away or to feel nostalgic.

Attached below are 2 of the many nice videos/songs that I will wanna share with you (if you are interested).

Join me (by Gregorian and Sarah Brightman's lesser known sister, Amelia Brightman)


Mother (by Era)


Have a great weekend ahead, friends.

Financial Planning

Some funny stuff I got from Joe.

--------
Dan was a single guy living at home with his father and working in the family business. When he found out he was going to inherit a fortune when his sickly father died, he decided he needed a wife with which to share his fortune.

One evening at an investment meeting he spotted the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Her natural beauty took his breath away.

'I may look like just an ordinary man,' he said to her, but in just a few years, my father will! die, and I'll inherit $65 million.'

Impressed, the woman obtained his business card and three days later, she became his stepmother.

Women are so much better at financial planning than men.

So sad - a gregorian chant

This catchy song keeps going on in my head.

Thought it was some Sarah Brightman song, but turns out to come under Gregorian (German band, often dressed like those mysterious monks) instead in my search over Youtube.



Tell me why I feel so sad, so sad.
Tell me why I feel so sad.

Something for Stevie

I have to admit that I am in one of the major crossroad of my life. The point where one wonders about the meaning of life. To justify about one's existence, and one's contribution to the world.

Beyond work, I am just another ordinary guy looking to do something extraordinary enough to make myself wholesome. I am like a piece of pie, bitten off by the sides, not knowing how to fill myself back.

It's like a cup of water half-filled (or you can say its half-empty). I am trying to top it up with something.

Knowing that your life is a irreversible process, and time travels in a single direction in a speed faster than 1 sec per second is a scary thought.

Quoting Charles Darwin.
A man who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life.

Having said that.

The past is over.
The present is now.
And the future is misty.

I am the driver of a car moving along that highway of life in the darkness of the night, with my headlights on. I can only see the next 100 metres of what's lying in front of me. My future will slowly unfold, but till then, I just have to put my concentration on the steering wheel, to make sure I dont swerve out of the highway.

On a happier note, today I shall share with you a real-life story of a guy named Stevie. Copy-and-paste stories may appear as a lazy blogger's way to fill up his blog with some content (and make his blog look more updated than it actually is).

But from the other angle, if this story is much more meaningful than what I can composed, why reinvent the wheel (and formulate a lousier wheel)?

The story comes from the perspective of a guy named Dan Anderson. I presume the settings is in the United States (not that the setting matters).

Enjoy!

---------

I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie. His Placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy. But I had never had a mentally handicapped employee and wasn't sure I wanted one. I wasn't sure how my customers would react to Stevie. He was short, a little dumpy with the smooth facial features and thick-tongued speech of Down Syndrome.

I wasn't worried about most of my trucker customers because truckers don't generally care who buses tables as long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade. The four-wheeler drivers were the ones who concerned me; the mouthy college kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreaded "truck stop germ"; the pairs of white shirted business men on expense accounts who think every truck stop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people would be uncomfortable around Stevie so I closely watched him for the first few weeks.

I shouldn't have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff wrapped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my truck regulars had adopted him as their official truck stop mascot. After that, I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought of him. He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt and peppershaker was exactly in its place, not a bread crumb or coffee spill was visible when Stevie got done with the table. Our only problem was persuading him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus dishes and glasses onto cart and meticulously wipe the table up with a practiced flourish of his rag. If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met.

Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truck stop. Their Social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they had fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was probably the difference between them being able to live together and Stevie being sent to a group home.

That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie missed work. He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something put in his heart. His social worker said that people with Down syndrome often had heart problems at an early age so this wasn't unexpected, and there was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months.

A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery and doing fine. Frannie, head waitress, let out a war hoop and did a little dance in the aisle when she heard the good news. Belle Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of the 50-year-old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his table. Frannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Belle Ringer a withering look. He grinned. "OK, Frannie, what was that all about?" he asked. "We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay."

"I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him. What was the surgery about?"

Frannie quickly told Belle Ringer and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevie's surgery, then sighed. "Yeah, I'm glad he is going to be OK" she said. "But I don't know how he and his Mom are going to handle all the bills. From what I hear, they're barely getting by as it is."

Belle Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait on the rest of her tables. Since I hadn't had time to round up a busboy to replace Stevie and really didn't want to replace him, the girls were busing their own tables that day until we decided what to do.

After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office. She had a couple of paper napkins in her hand and a funny look on her face.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I didn't get that table where Belle Ringer and his friends were sitting cleared off after they left, and Pony Pete and Tony Tipper were sitting there when I got back to clean it off," she said. "This was folded and tucked under a coffee cup." She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 bills fell onto my desk when I opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed "Something For Stevie."

"Pony Pete asked me what that was all about," she said, "so I told about Stevie and his Mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony looked at Pete, and they ended up giving! Me this." She handed me another paper napkin that had "Something For Stevie" scrawled on its outside. Two $50 bills were tucked within its folds. Frannie looked at me with wet, shiny eyes, shook her head and said simply "truckers."

That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Stevie is supposed to be back to work. His placement worker said he's been counting the days until the doctor said he could work, and it didn't matter at all that it was a holiday. He called 10 times in the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that we had forgotten him or that his job was in jeopardy. I arranged to have his mother bring him to work, met them in the parking lot and invited them both to celebrate his day back.

Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn't stop grinning as he pushed through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and busing cart were waiting.

"Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast," I said. I took him and his mother by their arms. "Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming back, breakfast for you and your mother is on me!" I led them toward a large corner booth at the rear of the room. I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched through the dining room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after booth of grinning truckers empty and join the procession. We stopped in front of the big table. Its surface was covered with coffee cups, saucers and dinner plates, all sitting slightly crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins.

"First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess," I said. I tried to sound stern. Stevie looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the napkins. It had "Something for Stevie" printed on the outside. As he picked it up, two $10 bills fell onto the table. Stevie stared at the money, then at all the napkins peeking from beneath the tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it. I turned to his mother.

"There's more than $10,000 in cash and checks on that table, all from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems. "Happy Thanksgiving!"

Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and shouting, and there were a few tears, as well. But you know what's funny? While everybody else was busy shaking hands and hugging each other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy clearing all the cups and dishes from the table.

Best worker I ever hired. Plant a seed and watch it grow.

WoW Detox

Not long after I posted the end of my gaming addiction, I got a comment from The Nino, who introduced me this Detox centre for World of Warcraft addiction.

It's an amazing site, with testimonials from fellow ex-gamers who have quit their addiction, particularly to World of Warcraft. As of last read, there were 1,871 posts on why people actually quitted their addiction and moved on to a normal life.

I got quite a chuckle reading them. The posts relate to my experience, why we love the game, and why it was ruining (or even overtaken) our day-to-day lives.

It's a good read for all you gamers out there. Like smoking, most gaming addicts start off as "casual gamers". But when you start getting in the fun, you turn on to be more competitive, and start training to be better. As you kick more butts in life, your ego starts growing. And you crave to become the local maximum. You start scarificing quality friendships, relationships for a little more time to the game. And the rest is history - you have become a walking zombie.

Here, I shall post some of the few stories I got from the site.

-----------
"It's really hard for people to understand what I am going through. I lost my daughter I lost my girlfriend and my home over this game yet I still continue to play, but as I play I have this constant demon in the back of my head telling me I should kill myself because I cant seem to stop thinking about what I've lost. This game is the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and I come from a family where drugs were more important than I was. That is saying alot. I play the game 18 hours a day, only because I need atleast 4 hours to get some rest so I can wake up and do it all over again. I do not have a job I don't shower, I don't shave... I neglect my daughter when I get to see her. I fight with everyone I know in real life because all they do is tell me im being a bad influence and that I dont have an addiction im just being lazy.. i've tried killing myself once but couldn't bring myself to it... Im getting to the point where I have nobody to speak with I guess that's why I found this site. I pray I can overcome this addiction for my sake and my daughters."

"I got into WOW because my boyfriend played it. It was really fun until we broke up. I went on WOW and my t7.5 gear didn't matter, my 450 enchanting, tailoring, cooking and fishing meant nothing. It's all fake and nothing made me feel better. Just deleted everything and realized I had to live a real life. Best break up ever :)"

"I lost my job and my girlfriend because of this stupid game.
Take the right advice, the only way to quit this game the right way is:
1) delete all your characters
2) scramble your password so you don't know it
3) delete your account
4) uninstall the game from your computer
5) destroy the disks
It is scary while you are doing all of this but trust me, once you get it all done, you will be amazed at how invigorated you feel, you feel a rush from the freedom, knowing that you have broken the shackles of a horrible addiction."

"Ok this is my honest testimonial..
I used to play wow for 3 years, actually since i was 13 years old. It was cool at first, couldnt really get addicted to it..But 1 and half year ago, i got so addicted that my schedule was..School-WoW-Homework(less than an hour-WoW-Sleep
Now, im counting 2 and half months of being crystal clear of wow..Here is what actually came up:
1. I started to be way way way more social
2.I was working out during my wow-playing period, but i was skipping most of the days, in order to raid. Now im going to gym 4 or even 5 times per week...
3. By doing that, ive lost 19.8 pounds, that is 1.5 stones! Or, 9 kg.
4.I got a girlfriend,for which now im happy to be with.I used to claim i have one while playing wow, but i didnt have anything...
5.Also, my grades are going upwards again, actually im getting all A's now.
It is not clearly WoW that gives people that addiction, but themselves...i suggest you to stop wow and do something productive"

"I've lost the love of my life for 3 years over this ridiculous game.
And even though I'm gone, he continues to play. I hope he has a lot of world of warcraft friends because he will be lonely withoout me.
I quit because I didn't want to lose him, he couldn't do the same for me."

"looking for fun > looking for group"

"Pawning in soccer > Ganking (killing) horde."

"Graduation gown > Purple Gear in WOW"

"your naked girlfriend dancing > your naked nightelf/blood elf dancing"

"hanging out with friends at college > hanging out with strangers in dalaran"

"Buying your girlfriend an engagement ring > Jewelcrafting 100 copper rings to level up quickly"

"Going out to have coffee with a nice girl > Going to raid Naxx with people you don't know"

"Time spent in real life self-improvement and developing real world skills > Time spent grinding WoW fishing, cooking, first aid and game professions on toons"

--------------------

All in all, this sums up everything.
"People > Pixels"

It was fun while it lasted

"Western Bar" is where it all began.
It was one of the first computer game that I played, when I was in primary school. And it was one of my prized possession then. Being the proud owner of a handheld computer games.

Never mind that the game was crappy by today's standards, the toy was a must-have to keep my young mind occupied. Then, school excursions were something I always looked forward to, because of the chartered school bus journey to and from the place of interest. That was the best time for me to play handheld computer games, and be the envy of my fellow classmates who didn't own one. And also a time for me to trade my game for other handheld video games.

The monotonous game lost my attention after some time, with one of the pioneer of the TV plug-in video gaming system of the 1980s.

Atari was the hype then, and I would go often to my Indian neighbour's house to play. Two kids in a gaming world of our own before we left for school. That was great times. Soon, the Indian Kid (Neelash) would move back to India with his parents.

I was secretly hoping that his family would leave behind his Atari set for me, as a gift or something. They never did, and boy, was I disappointed.

With Atari's low-resolution graphics and crappy storylines in its games, it soon gave way for the Nintendo system.

Nintendo was an instant hit here in Singapore. And spawned plenty of video game playing outlets. $1 for a 30 minute gaming session was a steep price for a kid like me during the 1980s. I had to forsake lunch and resort to stealing from my parents, to be able to pay for it.

It was around that period that I started playing truant for tuition classes. I will alternate between travelling on buses around Singapore, or sneak into gaming retail outlets.

Megaman, my all-time favourite game.

The technology boom soon gave birth to Sega.

Shinobi!

And who could forget one of the best tag team games at all time - Bare Knuckles!

Chicken restores all your health points. Sorry Nat, vegetarians lose.

And Super Nintendo brought multi-player mayhem with Bomberman. 4 school students trying to blast the hell out of each other is pure fun!

Kids, try this at home, but on on your TV game.

Not satisfied at just playing at shops, I started going to arcades from secondary school days. Even the school principal will come down the arcade to catch us. But I was always lucky.

The Singapore government started imposing rules that kids in uniform were not allowed to enter arcades during school hours. But the arcade I went to provided home clothes.

Arcade 1 Governement 0
(Let's see how the upcoming casinos will play around the Singapore Government's proposed law of making every Singaporean pay $100 per entry)

One of the "less public" arcades I frequented had shady games (strip mahjong, anyone?), and was covered with cigarette smoke. But who cares anyway, I just wanted to play Street Fighter.

My Chun Li has kicked countless Ken and Ryu's butt. =p


I used to "eat" fireballs on purpose, thought they will give me bonus points. Ouch!

I was pretty good in fighting games then, and I slowly moved on to more advanced fighting games in the arcade. I was so addicted to the arcade that I once left my bag in the arcade, and went school empty-handed, only to remember that oops, I left my bag in the arcade.

One interesting observation about arcade kids. As they walk within 1 km from the arcade, you will see them start walking faster, and eventually run towards the welcoming doors of the arcade. Been there, done that.

I made plenty of friends during my arcade days.

Some good, some bad.
Some males. some females. =p

Did I mention that most female gamers in the arcade are very much into attention grabbing? I know. Too many females have tried to flirt their way for me to let them win. To which, I oblige (not because I'm horny, but because I'm a gentleman).

I have always mentioned that gamers are some of the most loneliest people. Arcade gaming was fun while it lasted. But from the minute you step out of the door, everything goes silent instantly. And you realise that you one just one miserable piece of sh*t.

Through my gaming blog, I gathered a group of like-minded gamers who soon became gaming buddies. I was pretty much the de facto leader of the group. There were ah bengs and nerds alike in my group, but we all were good friends, having dinner together after our weekend-long arcade fest kicking each other's butt in fighting games.

I was fortunate to be able to manage both arcade gaming and my studies well. It helped that I did not have much of a life apart from these 2 activities. I can be gaming everyday all the way till the day before my exams. And still get my As and first class honours. Damn, I'm good.

Then came the emergence of LAN gaming. Counterstrike, warcraft and other MMORPGs (Massively multiplayer online role-playing game) soon started to replace the neccessity of arcades.

One after another, arcades started closing down or downsizing. And more were replacing arcade machines with PCs. It very much resulted in the demise of my group, as we all started moving on to other things in life.

I started playing Warcraft, very much in thanks to my fellow colleagues who played the same game. And we will even secretly play the game in office, over lunchtime. We will also go to LAN centres over the weekends to play. To make sure that our friendship will not be challenged, we will often fight against the computer opponents.



Make love, not war.

Time flies, and one after another, my gaming colleagues left for other departments or companies, and we stopped gaming.

Wifey soon came into my life and woah, my own chick is a gamer!
God has a way of pairing like with like, isn't it?

She soon introduced me a free-to-play MMORPG called Fairyland.

I always have something for cute cartoonish games.
It was my first MMORPG. And I was pretty much addicted to it (as always). I will leave my computer on over the nights just to ensure that he will be levelling his profession (eg. fishing) while I was sleeping. It was a waste of electricity, but I couldn't care.

As Fairyland started moving from trial to official release, it started charging monthly fees, and the number of players drastically dropped. It was no longer as fun, when you see the people you know online starting to leave the game for other MMORPGs or real-life.

I moved on to World of Warcraft, an award-winning MMORPG of the Year. With monthly fees of about S$25 a month, it was pretty much affordable for a working man like me. It helps that Wifey and I will play the game together.

And so the addiction snip off many precious hours of my life. I had time for gaming, but never had time to do the more important things in life. My bills soon became late, and I only sleep 5-6 hours everyday.

My life was pretty much a mess, I have to admit. But I couldn't stop gaming.

Wifey subsequently lost interest in gaming, but I held on. She will be surfing Net and I will be selfishly playing my own video games.

I always knew that I am meant for bigger things. But as long as I keep gaming, it will ALWAYS be my Achilles' heel. Gaming can easily be compared to smoking. It is a slow poison that drains off my time. But I just couldn't kill it.

You can't just put a full stop to gaming after having your life revolve around it for close to 25 years.

It is pretty frustrating, wasting time gaming while your friends have better usage of the time - doing sports, charity work, starting their side business etc...

2 weeks ago, I finally had the BALLS to subdue my inner demons. I stopped playing World of Warcraft. And asked someone to help me sell my account (and Wifey's).

I can now wake up early and exercise, rather than switch on my PC first thing in the morning.
I have time to settle the bills, and no longer have much backlog in household duties.
I sleep earlier, before 11pm (used to be about 12.30-1am) and no longer have to sleep on the way to work.
I have more time for reading, and normally finish reading the free newspapers by the time I reach home (since I'm no longer sleeping between journeys).

I have never felt more alive than ever.
The 25 years curse has been lifted.
Now let me embrace life, and catch up on my lost youth.

While I am still able and senile.

Be careful of what you wish for

Joe sent me this funny story.

---------
A married couple in their early 60s was celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary in a quiet, romantic little
restaurant.

Suddenly, a tiny yet beautiful fairy appeared on their table.

She said, 'For being such an exemplary married couple and for loving to each other for all this time, I will grant you each a wish.'

The wife answered, 'Oh, I want to travel around the world with my darling husband.'

The fairy waved her magic wand and - poof! - two tickets for the Queen Mary II appeared in her hands.

The husband thought for a moment: 'Well, this is all very romantic, but an opportunity like this will never come again.

I'm sorry my love, but my wish is to have a wife 30 years younger than me.'

The wife, and the fairy were deeply disappointed, but a wish is a wish.

So the fairy waved her magic wand and poof!...
The husband became 92 years old.

The moral of this story: Men who are ungrateful bastards
should remember fairies are female.....

We are under the same moon.
Yes, that moon high in the sky.

The moon can see you.
And the moon can see me too.

If the moon see both of us,
it must be that we are not too far from each other.

No matter where we are.
No matter where we will be.

May the moon keep you safe.
As if I were there for you.

Seeing the moon.
Makes me think of you.

And I hope you feel the same way too.

Dance the trouble away

Watching dance videos has always been one of my active ingredients to cheer me up when things go awry in life. It's also a great avenue for me to picky up some moves.

And where better place do I find FREE dancing videos than the one and only Youtube?

Gonna share some nice videos with ya.

Dancing Slugs


5 year old dancing


Don't you wished you had started dancing much earlier in your life?

Earth Hour

This year's Earth Hour was pretty well-received. Big organisations like retail outlets, hotels, and many households took part (though the inverse is also true).

And restaurants also happily cashed in on the candlelight dinners. A bright light in a gloomy ecocomy.

Though it is said that the mass participation has created an awareness that we are ready to fight for Gaia, but my feel is that this is just another one-hour remember-and-forget event.

Those who have really switched off non-essential lights and switches on 28 March, during the 8.30-9.30pm, will probably be glad that they have "done their part" and switch the lights back on at 9.30pm.

It takes more to save the Earth. Till the day that everyone can live like cavemen or live entirely on natural energy (eg. solar powered generators), its only a matter of time before we become the "dinosaurs" of our own destruction.

You may cease to live before the Earth heats up. Your kids or your grandkids might end up being the recipients of these "toxic assets". But heck, most of us are so caught up with the luxuries that come with electricity, who cares about the future?

We live day by day, complaining because life is never perfect.
We take things for granted, and ask "Why" instead of "Why not".
We expect someone else to lead the charge, but playdown our contribution because "I am only one person".

Ask not what the Earth can do for you.
Ask what you have done for the Earth.
Other than that meaningless one-hour.

One of the greatest thing about the current financial recession, is that economic activities slowed down a big deal. Factories that used to run for 24 hours a day are reducing their runtime to 12 hours. Oil production and consumption is down as the OPEC (the POOKING oil cartel) reduce their supplies to manage the prices.

A wild thought, but hey, maybe the guys who brought the economy to their feet, those who do structured products, Madoff-type of Ponzi schemes, and Insurance industries etc... are actually infiltrates from the WWF (World Wildlife Fund) out to sabotage the economy to save the Earth.

So back to the Earth Hour, Wifey and I were at home during that hour, and she switched off all the lights. She spent the hour gazing at other neighbouring blocks to see how many have done the same, and probably to enjoy the silence of the night.

Me? I was in a room opening the lights, turning on the fan, and ironing all the clothes. It's not that I do not want to show my part for Earth Hour, but I just felt like getting my clothes ironed at that hour.

Subsequently, I made a new resolution - to stop bathing with the heater. Just cold shower everyday for the rest of my life.

365 days without hot shower is much better than 1 silly Earth Hour a year.

About the Author: Shingo T sleeps and wake up early, and that is also a way to reduce usage of lights.