No comment on this. Just for sharing and entertainment.
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Loading ...Daily Archive for August 10th, 2007
Loading ...(Sorry for the glaring grammatical and speling erors. I juz book out, two tired to blog porpoerly.)
Years ago when I was about to graduate from this particular prestigious secondary school with a horse sculpture near its field, I was treated to a tiny talk conducted by a company determined to sell its product. Newsweek.
We were told pretty much certainly that Newsweek would be helpful, if not compulsory for the 2 years in Junior College, and being very enthusiastic and studious students, many signed up. I declined the offer, despite being lured with the carrot of acquiring 2 General Paper books, GP Matters, and a complimentary issue of Newsweek as gift.
A few weeks later while I was in the midst of an exciting Counter-Strike game someone from the company phoned my house and asked me why I had not signed up for the magazine. She said that everyone from my secondary school already had, and I shouldn’t be missing out this wonderful GP study supplement. I asked her, “Are you sure?” and she said, “Yes I am.” Unwillingly to be the only student without a copy of Newsweek, I took on a 2 year subscription. I had to convinced my dad with all the convincing power I could master for him to fork out the 200+ dollars for the subscription.
Although Newsweek is, in my opinion a rather dry news magazine that concentrates heavily on American news that I wouldn’t die not knowing about, I faithfully read the first few issues that was given to me.
It was then when somebody at the company decided that I don’t deserve to be a male. I consider myself lucky as they at least know I am not already married, or an old widow.
After putting up with this for a few months, I decided to email them to insist upon my correct sexual identity. They made the change, and I was contented to be a male for a few weeks.
Then I became a MS again. This time I was so shocked that I had to grope my chest to ensure that those things did not start producing milk or something. Lucky it didn’t.
Too lazy to email them once more for a change, I decided to put up with being called a female. Afterall, Ms Tay Wei Kiat sounds kind of cool, right? Sounds perfectly like a female name!
Finally there was light at the end of the tunnel. My subscription was nearing the end and they sent me forms to fill of I were to extend the subscription. I decided not to. But since they did not tell me how to unsubscribe, I assumed the process is automatic, and I did nothing. And so they keep on sending me issues of the their holy magazines. And I never bothered to read their entirely American self-centered news.
Now I have like a few KG of unopened Newsweek in my room, and a life long subscription of Newsweek, and someone addressing me Ms Tay Wei Kiat every single week. Life is great.
In another story, I subscripted PC Mag from the very same company in March or April while I was just enlisted, and my magazine did not arrive until this tuesday, with a courier sticker instead of a stamp, a day after I email them demanding for my PC Mag.
Nice company. Great service. Poor on gender recognition. Lets see if they will give me free lifetime subscription of PC Mag as well.
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Loading ...… to general Singaporeans
It is time to watch some middle aged man jump off from some helicopter and survive unscaled, and then wowing and oohing as if having just witness some miracle, much like holy people in the past. It is also time to witness some magnesium exploding in the sky and wasting kilowatts of battery power to capture those explosions.
… to small kids
It is time to wave that flimsy piece of painted cloth attached to a stick around happily at everyone, even if the person was just an overworked cleaner deployed for long hours due to National Day.
… to an overworked cleaner
Being waved at by loving kids.
… to students
Yay! Extra holiday!
… to teachers
Hmm… time to give more homework.
… to Wei Kiat
Another day of hiding at B2 of Esplanade car park, marshaling special vehicles, getting yelled at by angry drivers, spending for very long hours, and resting and eating at this well hidden place in B2 of the car park:
“Happy Birthday Singapore!” I managed to let out from my mouth because I collapse on my bed. My last thoughts before I fall asleep were, damn, I didn’t even get to watch the fireworks. Can’t see it from B2 of a car park, can I?
PS: To all who were made angry and frustrated by the long jam in the Esplanade car park earlier, it wasn’t our fault so stop scolding and yelling at us poor kids who just had to serve the NS. We were given wrong instruction that the blocked exit was opened, hence misdirecting tonnes of vehicles, leading to an even bigger jam. The need to juggle between handling civilian vehicles and also vehicles holding important foreign delegates (including someone from a particular country who refuse to alight upon arrive because he insisted on a grant welcome, when we don’t even have a tiny red towel, least a carpet, to spare) is too much to handle. I also thank many courteous and understanding of th public whom despite being made to wait in the jam for up to 30min, smile at us understandingly as they drove pass us.
(If I am not typing cohesively, it is because I couldn’t. I’m too tired.)
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