The national newspaper carried an article on developments of the internet as an alternative platform for political views. The James Gomez saga came up again for mention and a newly-elected MP even had her say at a university's forum discussion.
Seriously I am also baffled by James Gomez. I would have understood if he had just cited a moment of forgetfulness in stashing away the document instead of handing it over or perhaps that he had meant to submit it some other time instead of over the counter that very day. Somehow this did become a saga of sorts. Hmmmmm, so what is really up?
Watching Singapore Idol really got me all worked up. Just speaking for that "piano show" episode of the 7 male finalists, it is no secret that the last three contestants were clearly the winners with their big voices (although one will be booted).
However how can we ever expect our local talent to sing the songs they pick like their Western counterparts and just as professionally? In the first place, do they even have a choice? I mean they could only pick songs that way, right, from a platter of Western pop rock or other genres? So it couldn't have been the pick of the song that makes or breaks.
In fact their idols' songs were specially penned for them, weren't they? I mean Celine Dion has her composer composing the song which matched her vocals, right? Or Mariah Carey or Whitney Houston?
What we should have done is to have composers compose songs more suited to our local talents' vocal ranges (I mean for the sake of the other losing contestants who can't really measure up to Paul Twohill, Norman Then and Jonathon Leong - how many people can sing like that?).
Clement Chow penned and sang our NDP song and didn't it come out really swell? Or if you care to remember the "Courtesy" jingle of old, that was real snappy too. Or our "Majullah Singapura". So it should have been a showcase of our "real" local talent.
Oh my God! That pop rock musician I raved about in my earlier blog who sat next to moi in the LAN shop was de facto a Singapore Idol finalist. *Swoons. I sat next to a "Singapore Idol finalist", can you imagine that? *Screams. For all I know, he could even be the next Singapore Idol. *Swoons again.
From now on, that seat where he sat would be venerated ok. Everytime moi blog in that LAN shop, moi will kow-tow 1000x to it and scream his lungs out. *Winks. Oo. And his audience that night cried and poked fun at his last name too.
There are many good shows on TV right now. Oprah Winfrey rocks. Two and A Half Men rocks. ET rocks too. X-Men, the Last Stand and probably the last instalment n a trilogy, certainly symbolises very well what gays would have wanted, the Golden Gate Bridge unhinged and reaching across the San Francisco Bay to Alcatraz, I think. A bridge to humanity? Milk of human kindness? Human contact with the isolated and different? Wasn't that how the X-men felt?
I remember riding the Greyhound bus from LA to San Francisco and when this brick red bridge came into sight, I was actually hopping excited.
Did I also mention a little boy sat next to me at a computer terminal one night and he was so cute, I had to make gooey eyes at him? Or that I bumped into Evan, the other one of a pair of Ozzie kiddos I ranted about? They just live across from moi with their grandparents and will be moving back to Ozland once their vacation here is over. Don't think I wanna get too close with dudes who are leaving so soon.
Hey this LRT is really slow as a choo-choo train chugging along the rails. I could actually see it in the distance, chugging its way round the tracks, as slow as a 100 year old's erection. As I said, living around the central catchment area offered moi a respite, a retreat into a world of natural surrounds. Where moi's home is now, I can't even take a stroll anywhere. It doesn't offer any refuge anywhere. And no gym, no pool, no community club (so moi can gape at the basketball hunks) no nothing. And this is life?
Gym etiquette 101: Please do not hover like a hawk either in front or behind a fellow gymmie. I mean if you wanna share the "equipment" (and I don't mean anything else, if you think it, it is just your filthy mind ok) with him, just go up to him, smile and say so. Don't hover. Hey and I mean the women too. They hover so. But I won't do anything for you though ( stick out tongue).
I mean moi goes weak in the muscles like that and you won't want him to drop his weights on your toes now, do you? Or on your wherever? And I am scared too. All those incredible hulks could just come up to me and drop their shorts at a moment's notice and ask moi to do "unmentionables". I can't take too big a bratwurst ok. I would oblige if you ask politely though. *Wink. So who is the austitic one here?
I want TLC, not rough harsh words or anything. I need love. Not hate. I want peace, not war. Do you understand? Good. Drop your shorts, NOW! I oblige.
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