Jonno and Laura, guerilla marketing and its consequences.Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Comic Relief #116
I think this is the first appearance of one Mr. Mau Fahmy. Long-suffering Liverpool fan, and potential buyer of my PS2. Hurry up.
Comic Relief #114
Kinda early, but I hope you guys have a good trip.Thnk you to Kerri for the material for this one.
Eh...
So I should be going through what I should be trying to say during my presentation tomorrow. I also should have more money, new glasses, a cleaner laptop and a kitten (preferably two), but we don't always get what we want.
My arms ache, for some reason, and that's before finishing the two games of bowling that proved how bad I am at hurling heavy oiled balls down shiny oiled wooden lanes. My nose has seen it fit to discharge fluid in its most subtl manners over the past few days, and it feels like there is a cactus in my throat. I'm fine.
I've never been comfortable speaking in public. I remember back in Primary school, being asked to give a Teacher's Day "speech" to the whole school during one of the pathetic celebratory days back in the day. So there I was, little Chinese-faced Naz, plodding towards the mic (which I had plugged in myself anyway), wearing my pressed uniform and red elastic tie, taking a deep breath before speaking. In Malay.
The hall erupted in laughter.
I admit, though, I would have laughed too. I won't say that that turned me from the path of public speaking - there was another event a few years later as well - but perhaps I never really forgot it. Tomorrow marks the first presentation of this semester, though it's just one of many, and so far, in general, I've done more than alright. Except one horrendous attempt in an earlier semester.
But I'm not sure why... tomorrow's seems different. I always have this nervousness before any occasion where I know I will have to address a group larger than, say, 10, but again, there is a different feel to this feeling. Maybe it's those around me. Maybe it's me not being as motivated as I would have liked. Maybe it's the fact that I have barely decided on what to say (though that's worked too...). Maybe it was the cheeseburger.
Oh well. It should be ok.
Should.
My arms ache, for some reason, and that's before finishing the two games of bowling that proved how bad I am at hurling heavy oiled balls down shiny oiled wooden lanes. My nose has seen it fit to discharge fluid in its most subtl manners over the past few days, and it feels like there is a cactus in my throat. I'm fine.
I've never been comfortable speaking in public. I remember back in Primary school, being asked to give a Teacher's Day "speech" to the whole school during one of the pathetic celebratory days back in the day. So there I was, little Chinese-faced Naz, plodding towards the mic (which I had plugged in myself anyway), wearing my pressed uniform and red elastic tie, taking a deep breath before speaking. In Malay.
The hall erupted in laughter.
I admit, though, I would have laughed too. I won't say that that turned me from the path of public speaking - there was another event a few years later as well - but perhaps I never really forgot it. Tomorrow marks the first presentation of this semester, though it's just one of many, and so far, in general, I've done more than alright. Except one horrendous attempt in an earlier semester.
But I'm not sure why... tomorrow's seems different. I always have this nervousness before any occasion where I know I will have to address a group larger than, say, 10, but again, there is a different feel to this feeling. Maybe it's those around me. Maybe it's me not being as motivated as I would have liked. Maybe it's the fact that I have barely decided on what to say (though that's worked too...). Maybe it was the cheeseburger.
Oh well. It should be ok.
Should.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Hulk Incredible?
Iron Man was fan-fucking-tastic. No doubt.
With that in mind, I entered the theatre to watch Hulk with mixed feelings, having never been a fan of anything green (broccoli, SAF, Shrek) but hopeful in the wake of Robert Downey Jr.'s portrayal of Tony Stark. And any serious Marvel or movie buffs knew before hand that he'd be in Hulk anyway.
Now, like I mentioned, I've never liked the Hulk. Or Superman, or Juggernaught, or Colossus, or any superhero who is super-strong. Not sure why, just never did. That, and the fact that, well, let's just go out and say it, Hulk is about as cool as Swamp Thing at it's peak of dripping ichor and rotting vines. So he get's angry, and get's strong. And is nigh-unstoppable. Kinda unidimensional, if you ask me, eh?
But then, I thought Iron Man was lame too.
Thought.
Hulk opens nicely, I felt. I've noticed that Marvel tends to do a recap-type of thing in the opening credits of almost all their movies (or am I just mad?) and what they did in Hulk brought even the least-informed mmbers of the audience up to speed with what had happened. Of course, this film isn't a sequel to Ang Lee's horrific attempt at a movie (which could have only been made worse by someone like Uwe Boll or Mediacorp-Raintree), but what the producers did did seem to speed things up while not sacrificing anything from the actual story-telling, I thought.
For those expecting instant "HULK SMASH" and flying cars and debris, you're in for a wait. You are, however, treated to an introduction to Bruce Banner in his self-imposed exile, and what he's been doing to deal with his... condition.
Debates and arguments of whether or not he learnt Capoeira or Ju-Jitsu are irrelevant, as are the gasps of shock and awe at the diaphragmic prowess of his trainer, but one has to say that while some might think it uneventful, it does contribute to the plot as a whole, and no movie was ever made worse by development.
A few kicks and one Gringo later, you finally see the big guy, and he then proceeds to lay waste to those before him for a while. Viewers are encouraged to wince at appropriate moments. In between tantrums, Liv Tyler's character is also introduced, and here I found, was one of the funnier moments of the movie, where she (predictably but hilariously) seems to forget that she is seeing someone. I won't say more. Cue Stan Lee cameo.
The only disappointment I had with the film, really, was that "Mr. Blue" isn't who I had hoped he would be, and that Liv Tyler looks haggard in more than a few shots. Still, the fact that it seemed at least two future Marvel endeavours (Captain America and Avengers) have been set up seems very, very promising.
Final rating?
I'd say it was a smash, but stops short of being marvelous. Don't expect an awesome, Iron Man-esque ride, but it ranks among the better of the Marvel productions, and is a giant leap from the last time you saw Bruce Banner.
If for nothing else, you could go in to see if what a frind of mine said is really true,
"That Liv Tyler is such a slut. Watch the movie, she's moaning all the way. From the time in the rain to every other time she is on screen. Moaning 24/7. Normally you would be irritated, but it's Liv Tyler. Shiok."
With that in mind, I entered the theatre to watch Hulk with mixed feelings, having never been a fan of anything green (broccoli, SAF, Shrek) but hopeful in the wake of Robert Downey Jr.'s portrayal of Tony Stark. And any serious Marvel or movie buffs knew before hand that he'd be in Hulk anyway.
Now, like I mentioned, I've never liked the Hulk. Or Superman, or Juggernaught, or Colossus, or any superhero who is super-strong. Not sure why, just never did. That, and the fact that, well, let's just go out and say it, Hulk is about as cool as Swamp Thing at it's peak of dripping ichor and rotting vines. So he get's angry, and get's strong. And is nigh-unstoppable. Kinda unidimensional, if you ask me, eh?
But then, I thought Iron Man was lame too.
Thought.
Hulk opens nicely, I felt. I've noticed that Marvel tends to do a recap-type of thing in the opening credits of almost all their movies (or am I just mad?) and what they did in Hulk brought even the least-informed mmbers of the audience up to speed with what had happened. Of course, this film isn't a sequel to Ang Lee's horrific attempt at a movie (which could have only been made worse by someone like Uwe Boll or Mediacorp-Raintree), but what the producers did did seem to speed things up while not sacrificing anything from the actual story-telling, I thought.
For those expecting instant "HULK SMASH" and flying cars and debris, you're in for a wait. You are, however, treated to an introduction to Bruce Banner in his self-imposed exile, and what he's been doing to deal with his... condition.
Debates and arguments of whether or not he learnt Capoeira or Ju-Jitsu are irrelevant, as are the gasps of shock and awe at the diaphragmic prowess of his trainer, but one has to say that while some might think it uneventful, it does contribute to the plot as a whole, and no movie was ever made worse by development.
A few kicks and one Gringo later, you finally see the big guy, and he then proceeds to lay waste to those before him for a while. Viewers are encouraged to wince at appropriate moments. In between tantrums, Liv Tyler's character is also introduced, and here I found, was one of the funnier moments of the movie, where she (predictably but hilariously) seems to forget that she is seeing someone. I won't say more. Cue Stan Lee cameo.
The only disappointment I had with the film, really, was that "Mr. Blue" isn't who I had hoped he would be, and that Liv Tyler looks haggard in more than a few shots. Still, the fact that it seemed at least two future Marvel endeavours (Captain America and Avengers) have been set up seems very, very promising.
Final rating?
I'd say it was a smash, but stops short of being marvelous. Don't expect an awesome, Iron Man-esque ride, but it ranks among the better of the Marvel productions, and is a giant leap from the last time you saw Bruce Banner.
If for nothing else, you could go in to see if what a frind of mine said is really true,
"That Liv Tyler is such a slut. Watch the movie, she's moaning all the way. From the time in the rain to every other time she is on screen. Moaning 24/7. Normally you would be irritated, but it's Liv Tyler. Shiok."
A Perfectionist and a Procrastinator
It's 7.45AM now, and I've actually been up an hour or so. Set my alarm clock to wake me up at the cheery time of 6.45, with the intent to finish studying for my Psychology exam later today. But the best laid plans of mice and men...
Someone told me recently that I've been slacking off, and somone else mentioned a while back that I'm "the intelligent one that screws up his exams", and while either comment might seem derogatory, I actually agree with both statements, they brought a smile/smirk/what-have-you to my face and did get me thinking.
Back to matters at hand, I have my notes at the ready, but for some reason I have little motivation to get going, adding to the fact that I have not finished the assignment due this week, and haven't done as much as I'd have liked for the presentation next week.
Oh well.
I hate it when things don't go my way.
Maybe tomorrow.
Someone told me recently that I've been slacking off, and somone else mentioned a while back that I'm "the intelligent one that screws up his exams", and while either comment might seem derogatory, I actually agree with both statements, they brought a smile/smirk/what-have-you to my face and did get me thinking.
Back to matters at hand, I have my notes at the ready, but for some reason I have little motivation to get going, adding to the fact that I have not finished the assignment due this week, and haven't done as much as I'd have liked for the presentation next week.
Oh well.
I hate it when things don't go my way.
Maybe tomorrow.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Comic Relief #113
So, not everyone might get this... but it's ok.We've (well she, mostly) been sending weird text messages like these every other day. Some others include "... wish I was your fringe so you'd play with me all day." and "... wish I were your bed so you'd lie on me every night."
Monday, June 09, 2008
Hrm.
Seems like alot's been happening lately, at least over the past four or five weeks. Many people, all my loyal fans, I'm sure, have suffered through what others have branded a "blog statis" during this period, and for this I sincerely apologise.
Last month, of course, was perhaps the most important month of the year for yours truly, and this May seemed packed with ll sorts of stuff. From last-minute romantic getaway to a great island resort to procuring a Canon Ixus from a schoolmate to tracking down people I hve hardly ever spoken to, I'm glad that when the dust settled, she had a smile on her face.
I have a new tuition kid too, which means, for the first time in a long time, income. Three lessons gone, and I have to say that this one seems the best one of the lot. May not be the brightest, but he's by far the most fun, and definitely better than my previous one.
What I'd like to talk about today, however, is just something that's been going through my head the past few hours, a random thought or memory that sort of popped up while I was listening to "Fall For You" for th fourth time in less than six hours. Now, lot of junk goes through my head, and most people would agree that it's not a nice place to be in, but this was one of the more poignant things I've ever experienced first-hand.
A long time ago, near an MRT station not so far away, Naz and Khadi were walking home from som random excursion, when we sort of bumped into this girl who we've seen around the vicinity. Before I go on, I want to make it clear that I am far from discriminating, though to say I am a paragon of fairness would be a tad unrealistic as well. However, you can usually tell if somone is, well, not normal. Like earlier today, Khadi and I saw this pseudo-Japanese girl (we will not debate on if she is hot or not) who looked like she was an anorexic zombie robot. But back to the story.
For some reason, perhaps Khadi looked extra-friendly that day, the girl came up to us, clad in her white tudung and all, and started chatting to us strangers. For lack of a better option, and not wanting to do anything (else) stupid, we engaged in her small-talk, with Khadi whispering frightfully into my heroic ear, "Babe, I'm scared."
The conversation in itself was seemingly normal, though in Malay, thus effectively disqualifying me from it entirely, else I'd be labelled as the Special one. Things went smoothly and innocently until a question of family, I think, came up, and the girl said something like,
"... you know, because I'm, like this and not normal like you two."
She trotted off a while later.
For some reason, this recollection has been bouncing around my head, juxtaposed with the phrases of "loser table" and "pathetic" that various people have used for various situations recently. I'm not at liberty to say more, but at the same time, I'm not uncomfortable or weirded out or anything, I'm just wondering why I'm thinking of this.
Maybe I'm just crazy.
Last month, of course, was perhaps the most important month of the year for yours truly, and this May seemed packed with ll sorts of stuff. From last-minute romantic getaway to a great island resort to procuring a Canon Ixus from a schoolmate to tracking down people I hve hardly ever spoken to, I'm glad that when the dust settled, she had a smile on her face.
I have a new tuition kid too, which means, for the first time in a long time, income. Three lessons gone, and I have to say that this one seems the best one of the lot. May not be the brightest, but he's by far the most fun, and definitely better than my previous one.
What I'd like to talk about today, however, is just something that's been going through my head the past few hours, a random thought or memory that sort of popped up while I was listening to "Fall For You" for th fourth time in less than six hours. Now, lot of junk goes through my head, and most people would agree that it's not a nice place to be in, but this was one of the more poignant things I've ever experienced first-hand.
A long time ago, near an MRT station not so far away, Naz and Khadi were walking home from som random excursion, when we sort of bumped into this girl who we've seen around the vicinity. Before I go on, I want to make it clear that I am far from discriminating, though to say I am a paragon of fairness would be a tad unrealistic as well. However, you can usually tell if somone is, well, not normal. Like earlier today, Khadi and I saw this pseudo-Japanese girl (we will not debate on if she is hot or not) who looked like she was an anorexic zombie robot. But back to the story.
For some reason, perhaps Khadi looked extra-friendly that day, the girl came up to us, clad in her white tudung and all, and started chatting to us strangers. For lack of a better option, and not wanting to do anything (else) stupid, we engaged in her small-talk, with Khadi whispering frightfully into my heroic ear, "Babe, I'm scared."
The conversation in itself was seemingly normal, though in Malay, thus effectively disqualifying me from it entirely, else I'd be labelled as the Special one. Things went smoothly and innocently until a question of family, I think, came up, and the girl said something like,
"... you know, because I'm, like this and not normal like you two."
She trotted off a while later.
For some reason, this recollection has been bouncing around my head, juxtaposed with the phrases of "loser table" and "pathetic" that various people have used for various situations recently. I'm not at liberty to say more, but at the same time, I'm not uncomfortable or weirded out or anything, I'm just wondering why I'm thinking of this.
Maybe I'm just crazy.
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