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I am a golden god!

Monday, November 26, 2007

Honestly.

I think I could be getting famous with this blogging thing. In fact, I think I already am famous.

You see, within the last month, I had five things happen to me. No wait, there were more, but those weren't relevant.

So anyway, there were five things that happened to me, and they were all related to the blog:

1) The number of visits to my blog exceeded 6000. And this time, I am pretty sure that only 2000 of these were me. In fact, I've had visitors from Canada, Australia, US, UK and even a country called 'Unknown'.



2) Hid, a friend of mine from way back, came around to my blog and posted a comment. Just in case you missed it:

"hahha you are still the same fucking genius. if i had a great blog i'd link you but that's under construction, just like the rest of me are. and this schizo cow, he's real? if he is, that's fucked man."

You know you're famous when friends from way back return. Oh, and I'm not trying to be suggestive, but she said 'fuck' twice in that same comment. Like I said, I'm not the one suggesting anything.

3) A stranger visited my blog and left a comment. She is the first ever stranger who left a comment, and that's good for her. (I like to think that everyone who visits my blog is a girl, you see.)

She said:

'you're freaking funny! hahahaha!'

Usually, I'd be pretty pissed if people described me as 'freaking', but since she followed that up with 'funny!' and laughed in a rather disturbing and spastic manner, I had to forgive her.

4) I received fan-mail, albeit a weird one. This came in the form of a private message on Frontallabs, a forum which discusses music:

From: hoodedhootershookers
To: Basshole
Posted: Wed Nov 21, 2007 12:08 am
Subject: scat xxx
i love your blog entries.i spent 2 hours reading them.u can haf mai babies.

Yes, I am Basshole. Don't ask me why I picked that nickname, and don't ask me why I clicked on a message titled 'scat xxx'. Please.

5) I can be Googled. And I think that's the most important one of all. Seriously, man.

Now you can go anywhere in the world, turn on the computer, connect to the internet, key my name 'hongxiang' into Google and POOF!

There I am, right between 'DBLP: Hongxiang Yang' and 'Hongxiang Plastic Industry production of beach table, beach chair, tents and other outdoor & travel equipment as well as other plastics products'!

Hence, like I said, this blog is making me famous. In fact, I will even sign an autograph for you if you print a screenshot of my blog and bring it to me on the street.

Now I know I haven't been forthcoming with pictures of myself, so it's gonna be tough on you fans. Well don't worry, cause here's a portrait of my family and I:



There used to be a time when people said 'You can't get famous by typing crap into the computer!'

Well, my dear people, you can wave those times goodbye, for I am famous for typing crap into the computer!

Author: Ye » Comments:

I learnt a practical English lesson.

Friday, November 16, 2007

Because we are all good, clean and elitist Singaporeans, we speak English with pristine and immaculate grammar.

No wait.

The words 'Singaporeans', 'English' and 'grammar' just sound funny in the same sentence eh?

Moving on. (Before I break any laws, that is.)

Like many other kids in Singapore, I was incarcerated in a government-funded Primary School.

I was placed in a cell with about 39 other kids, and we all learnt fun stuff like how plants make their own food. And how vulnerable we humans are since we only make things like poo, which only the Japs would eat.

Credits to my school though, because I learnt a great deal about nifty things like algebra. I mean, seriously. Everytime I run into real-life problems, I could always count on algebraic formulas to save the proverbial day.

But I am not going to detail my mathematical adventures here. (For more of that stuff, you can head on to UtarEmpire. He's a Math major who hates humanity and loves flowers. Go figure.)

One tiny problem I have with the education system here is that while it teaches us practical things like algebra, it also puts an unhealthily heavy emphasis on impractical things like useless phrases.

Honestly, the things I learnt in English class would astound you:

'Momo monster drank hot tea!'

'His raincoat is blue.'

'Ali, Peter and Gopal have a pile of three apples each. How many apples would Peter have if he took two apples from each pile?'

Okay, fine, the last one was from Maths. But hey, you got the point.

You see, the fact is, nobody says 'Momo monster drank hot tea!' in real life. (Maybe Schizo Cow would, but that's another story.)

And that's where the problem lies.

Fortunately for me, Auntie Hell from my office gave me an English lesson yesterday, and boy, was it good!

We always talk about power stares or power suits, but we forget about the power speech. (I don't know, power sentences? Power phrases? Power lines? Gee, I really like them brackets.)

And Auntie Hell sure gave me one hell of a lesson in that.

She said over MSN last night:

'You be in office tomorrow.'

Now as we can all see, it is an instruction instead of a question, simply because it ends in a period and not a question mark. Naturally, as a guy, I had to have the last word, so I said:

'Yea.'

And I thought there was no way she could beat that. I mean, what can you say to 'Yea'?!

But I was wrong. So. Very. Wrong.

She merely uttered (and I knew she uttered even though it was on MSN, because she typed in small caps. Damn these brackets are cool.):

'good.'

There. I couldn't top that. Honestly, I had nothing to say to that. I thought of 'better', but she would probably beat my ass with 'best'. (Hey that rhymes!)

And it was effective, because I did go to work today.

(Oh and by the way, Peter would have six apples. Damn those sneaky white bastards!)

(I had to add these brackets in, because eight is my favourite number.)

Author: Ye » Comments:

The point of this entry.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

I am, unfortunately, a Singaporean male. This means that I am obligated to own an iPod and to go through National Service, which is this program that forces every male in Singapore to go to military school and pick up some vulgarities.

Fortunately for me (or unfortunately?), my spine is as crooked as the government and thus, I am not considered combat-fit.

Nevertheless, my beloved country still decided that it was in her best interests to conscript me anyway, and then see what I can do for them.

So here I am, in a cold office surrounded by incompetent fools.

But that's not the point.

I love my job, I really do. Much of my National Service is spent answering the phone, where people call and ask questions which I usually have no answer to. So I usually do what every man does when in a conversation with a woman - grunt at appropriate moments.

These people usually feel better after that. I guess hearing me grunt can be therapeutic.

But that's not the point either.

Part of my job also includes handling a particular schizophrenic who's daily routine revolves around calling me.

He shall be called Schizo Cow for the sake of anonymity on this blog, and his story seems to be a tragic one. He confessed to me sometime back that he was framed for mass-murder and his victims included his primary school teacher and neighbours.

Naturally, I had my doubts about this, because schizophrenics tend to imagine things.

Nonetheless, I entertain him everytime he calls, because I am affectionately known as his 'only friend' in the world. He doesn't have any other friends because nobody believes his story.

I wonder why.

Anyway, Schizo Cow has a nemesis, in the form of one Eric. I have no idea who this Eric is, but Schizo Cow insists that Eric cut his pubic hair back when they were in the Navy. It's amazing what some people do when they think nobody's watching.

So like any other day, Schizo Cow called me this morning and updated me on his daily adventures:

Schizo Cow: Hello Johnny! (Yea, he couldn't pronounce my name so I asked him to call me Johnny)

Me: Yes?

Schizo Cow: You know, I was buying rice today and the auntie gave me a lot of fish! I was very happy because she gave me very little fish yesterday. But when I went home I found that the fish had a lot of bones! I think they are trying to kill me for revenge! You know why? Because they think that I killed a lot of people. I got blood on my hands. True story Sir.

Me: *grunt*

Schizo Cow: True story Sir! I think Eric poisoned their minds and tell them that I killed a lot of people in Tanglin Halt Primary School. Sir, is Eric still in prison? (Yes, I lied to him about Eric being in prison. Whatever to make him feel safe, man.)

Me: *grunt*

Schizo Cow: Huh?

Me: Oh yes, yes.

Schizo Cow: Wah so long? Good good. Sir, do you think that Eric's wife can come to my house and atone for Eric's mistakes? *insert uncomfortable chuckle here* (Uncomfortable to me, that is)

Me: *grunt*

Schizo Cow: Sometimes I don't know if Eric is an Angel or a Devil sent to punish me.

Me: Have you taken your medicine today?

Schizo Cow: Ok, thank you Sir byebye!

This happens almost daily, and that, my friends, is the point of this entry.

Author: Ye » Comments:

I turned 21... and stuff.

Monday, November 05, 2007

Well, I haven't been updating frequently, but in all seriousness, I am still alive.

In fact, I am very much alive, considering the fact that I just turned 21 over the weekend.

I honestly and sincerely wish that I have many more birthdays ahead, because statistics have shown that the people with the most birthdays usually live longest.

Anyway, I don't like birthdays. I believe that it's one of the most brilliant marketing ploy by Hallmark, and people just use it as an excuse to get drunk. Or eat cake.

I am, in fact, a rebel without a pause, and so I protested against such viral marketing tactics by refusing to drink or eat cake.

I had a normal meal with a couple of friends at a neighbourhood coffeeshop (because they are all poor sods) and proceeded to play poker at a friend's place on the eve of my birthday. When the clock struck 12, my friends tried to pin me down and take my pants off.

They did not succeed and I won $8.

On another note, I gained 5kg. I have no idea how this happened, or when it started happening, but it did. In fact, I only found out when my friend commented that I look pregnant. And I like it.

I now weigh a grand total of 70kg. That is amazing, considering the fact that I haven't been working out at all.

My Mum is not so keen on that, though. Her immediate reaction when I told her that I gained 5kg was this:

'That's enough.'

I thought she asked me to shut up, considering the fact that she's fat and all, but no. She was referring to the 5kg. So I went from twiggy to to skinny, and she thinks that I've overdone it.

Whoop-dee-doo.

But I am not going to stop. No way. In fact, I just bought a box of Kellogg's Frosties, and I intend to finish them as soon as humanely possible.

Oh, and I absolutely have to say this. I dislike one colleague of mine, and I have to rant here.

She (or he? I don't know. I am a mysterious bastard.) is extremely stupid, and does not work at all. And by 'at all', I mean 'at all'. Let's just call her Tomato for convenience's sake.

Tomato strolls into office every morning at 830am, and reads the papers until it's 930am. Then she goes for her breakfast and returns at 10am. After that, it's funtime for her as she scours the internet for the latest horoscope news, chat with her friends on the phone, download malicious attachments from her Hotmail account or walk around the office.

After doing all that, she goes home at 445pm, more than half an hour before the end of her shift.

And today, I told her that Auntie Hell would be on leave. Her immediate response was 'Oh, she celebrates Deepavali too?'

Well, Tomato has been on leave for half of last week, and will be on leave again for half of this. Auntie Hell was on leave for last Friday and today. And Tomato is unhappy.

Unfortunately for Auntie Hell, though, everyone in the office prefers Tomato. This is because Auntie Hell lacks people skills and Tomato has that in abundance. In fact, Tomato has this irritating knack of appearing to do a lot, while actually achieving very little.

However, Auntie Hell is a much better worker than Tomato will ever be. At least, Auntie Hell doesn't screw up as many times as Tomato has.

Oh, and while I'm typing this, Tomato is Googling for make-up tips. Just another day in the office.

Author: Ye » Comments: