Friday, November 30, 2007

Am I? Do You?

You don't have to ask if you're loved. You'll just know when you are. Just like you always know when you're not.

Best Friends Forever

Let's bring back the good ol' days
of autograph books and biodatas.


Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Sugar is sweet,
And so are YOU!

It's gotta rhyme or else it's considered no class.



Acronym's rock. If you know one, you're cool.


Friends will come and friends will go,
The seasons change and it will show,
I will age and so will you,
But our friendship stays, strong and true.

Only BFFs get poems like this one!



Argh, so corny. Beh tahan.
But I know you love me long time for it. =)

Far From Being A Virtuous Wife

I think it's time to do go through the list once again. Just to know the current state of things (i.e. me) and to give myself good, hard shove that'll, hopefully, bring me to that much-needed point of awareness.

Proverbs 31:10 - 31

10 A wife of noble character who can find?
She is worth far more than rubies.

...Not feeling too worthy right now so I'm gonna say it's a 'No'.

11 Her husband has full confidence in her
and lacks nothing of value.

...Only time will tell.

12 She brings him good, not harm,
all the days of her life.

...Good intentions don't count but it's not like I don't try so... Yeah. I'm gonna leave it at that.

13 She selects wool and flax
and works with eager hands.


14 She is like the merchant ships,
bringing her food from afar.

...This has gotta be a metaphor. One that I don't quite get.

15 She gets up while it is still dark;
she provides food for her family
and portions for her servant girls.

...No. Not usually. No.

16 She considers a field and buys it;
out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.

...Perhaps. Cos I don't exactly see myself doing that just yet, but I also can't see myself not doing that.

17 She sets about her work vigorously;
her arms are strong for her tasks.

...Nope. Not physically, no. I'm a loser when it comes to keeping up my exercise routine... not that I have one.

18 She sees that her trading is profitable,
and her lamp does not go out at night.

...Yeah. Cracked at the sides and chipped at the bottom... but if you ask me, it's not really that noticeable. The patch-up work was pretty good. I went to a Professional.

19 In her hand she holds the distaff
and grasps the spindle with her fingers.

...How is this always a good thing?

20 She opens her arms to the poor
and extends her hands to the needy.

...It's a 'Not Really' for the first and a 'Pretty Much So' for the second.

21 When it snows, she has no fear for her household;
for all of them are clothed in scarlet.

...They will be.

22 She makes coverings for her bed;
she is clothed in fine linen and purple.

...Yeah, I can do that.

23 Her husband is respected at the city gate,
where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.

...Sure. No reason why he shouldn't be.

24 She makes linen garments and sells them,
and supplies the merchants with sashes.

...Yeah, yeah. What's with all the focus on work? With me, and especially right now, that's pretty much a given.

25 She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.

...Yes and amen.

26 She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

...Most of the time, I hope. But I really don't know anymore. Perhaps not. Not.

27 She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.

...I don't think I do.

28 Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:


29 "Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all."

...That's what they both tell me but I don't know if I deserve it. It takes a lot to be noble. A lot. And I'm not a lot of things people want me to be, too. I'm not who I want to be.

30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

...Not enough.

31 Give her the reward she has earned,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

...We'll see.

– New International Version (NIV)
Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc.


Wow. I just broke my own heart.
All things are possible these days.

That was difficult for me. Really really difficult. And oh, perfect timing. My heart, once again, aches for no apparent reason. But no time to stop and wonder what it's about. No time, for there's much work to be done.


Growing up is an eye-opener.

Every day, there's something new to be discovered. Something new to be learned. Something new to be figured out. And sometimes, you get lucky... and Life throws you an easy hand. And then it's smooth sailing all the way.

But most times, it's just not.

And it's not.

But hey, I'm growing up. And that's all that really counts, right? So what if the good times never last? Who cares if the best of days usually end up being the ones that bring the most tears... the most pain... the most sadness... and the most sorrow?

Nobody. That's who.

But that doesn't matter, does it?

Honestly, I don't really know. Cos when I don't think, I know it does. Because it hurts. And that pain tells me that it matters deep down inside. But when I do think, I hear myself go, "No, not really, I guess."

So, yeah. Tough. But I guess it doesn't really matter when you put a little effort into looking at the whole scheme of things. You see, I've learnt the secret to killing the pain: just change what we can when we can; and when we can't, we change. I've just gotta zoom out a little and start focusing on the macro. Start thinking big-picture thoughts. That's all.

I'm waking up in the real world tomorrow. And I'm gonna be taking in big breaths of Reality. And then... I'm going to start getting used to the truth. You see, it's never going to be like the movies. They lie... as every fairy-tale lies. Make believe will always just be make believe – nothing more, but always a whole lot less.


I hate it when the sun goes down on me feeling the way I do. But that's just the way things are. And that's probably the way it's gonna be. I've just got to learn to accept that this will be one of the ways Life says its goodnight's to me. Nights like tonight will come again. And though little, taking it in stride eases the pain somewhat... or perhaps it just numbs it. I don't know. I really can't tell anymore.

But not being able to tell does tell me one thing:
It's time to grow up some more.


"We don't always get what we want.
Wishes don't come true. And
there are no happily-ever-afters."
– pamsong, 30 November 2007

Thursday, November 29, 2007

Me. Wants. Go. Home.

But me can'ts. Boo hoo.

Always Shop At Watsons


Cos as long as you have mastered basic math,
you sure tak rugi. It's practically guaranteed.


Kotex Ultrathin Soft & Smooth that absorbs 2X faster!

Now, at a promotional price of RM1.48* only for a pack of 5!
Don't miss out on this great offer, so be sure to buy, buy, buy!
* For a limited time only.

(Wah. So many exclamation marks. Read also tired.)


Kotex Ultrathin Soft & Smooth that absorbs 2X faster!
(Yeah, it's the exact same product.)

Now, at RM12.60 only for a pack of 20!
If you haven't gone to school
and if you've never ever EVER
done math in your entire life,

go ahead, don't miss out, so buy buy buy!


Buying more does not mean you pay less.
Just do the math and you'll see lah. Bodoh.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Shoot Me Lah!

I just made a total fool of myself.

Like totally.

And if you even know me at all, you'd know that I'm not exactly the type to worry myself over that kinda thing. Fool ma fool loh. Big deal ah? Paiseh one minute, laugh the next, then everybody forget di loh. I defnitely wouldn't lose sleep over it.

But not this time.


Kick my own backside in front of who? Boss. Which boss? BIG MAN BOSS! Shoot myself in front of who? The one person who's approval matters most to me. Aren't I just brilliant?

*slams head into wall about a dozen times*


Haih, it just matters lah. That's the bottom line. It matters. AAARRRGGGHHH! It like so matters loh. Why? Cos I made a fool of myself in front of somebody really brilliant. Cos I said something really dumb to somebody really smart. And cos I totally screwed myself over – not once... but TWICE!!!

*slam slam slam*


SCENARIO: I was assigned to shoot a video of Big Man Boss on behalf of another colleague. Problem is, Big Man Boss is a busy man. He's usually out, busy... or out. So we kinda made an appointment of sorts to shoot the video at a predetermined time. When the time came, I stupidly put my foot in my mouth. (Correction: I put BOTH feet into my mouth.)

Pam Song: Uh... Excuse me, Big Man Boss. You're ready to be shot, right? (Ahh, there goes the first foot.) Mr J says he'll shoot you later. (And in goes the second foot right on First Foot's heels.)


How did I ever get my job!?!


My worst nightmare finally came to pass.
In widescreen and in THX.

I Smile As You Lie Dead On My Bathroom Floor

...and I click away on my W810i with much glee,
for cold and motionless you finally lie.


I wonder what this particular type of mosquito
is called, though. A Long-quito? Hair-ito? Hmmm.

Oh, stop it with that look of disapproval and wipe that frown off your face. It's a dead moquito for goodness sakes. No need to go all Drama Mama on me over this. Plus, if it makes you feel any better, I found it... I didn't kill it.

*cough cough*

Somebody just beat me to it this time.


It won't happen again.


Tuesday, November 27, 2007

The Chorus Sings Its Alleluia Song

In a smooth and steady stream of toot-toot toot-toot, the world's most beautifully written SMS arrived seconds apart in the various Message Inboxes of 13 mobile phones – all within a 150m radius.

Random words of exclamation filled the air. "YES!" "WHOOPEE!" "WHEEE!" Each one unmistakably louder, clearer and far more punctuated than the one before. The roar of voices in the small enclosed space was unmistakably set to a joyous note. And in perfect harmony and exemplary unity, the crowd rose to their feet and erupted into a deafening cheer.

Yet again, the said SMS deserved (and got) nothing less than a standing ovation. Ahh, sweet jubilation at its best.

Semangat Ke-voter-an!

The general elections are coming up.

It's gonna be my first time.

I should be excited... but I'm not.

The hike in security procedures and the increase in safety measures by the authorities all over the city have begun to scare me. And I'm getting really paranoid with the many fighter jets that frequent KL-skies. (What's that about!?) Oh, and the roadblocks all over town along all major roads are just plain irritating.

Sigh. I hope this comes to an end soon.


If you're not thinking of voting at the general elections this year, you should. If you haven't already registered to vote, you should have. If you think it's too late, you're right. It is. And you should already be drowning in shame... you lousy, no-good, irresponsible, good for nothing, useless, above-21 Malaysian.


I've always had weird conversations with the people I find myself having lunch with. (I think I'm hanging out with the wrong crowd at work.) Today's lunch hour was no different and it was most definitely no less interesting than usual.

Colleague 1: *looks directly at me and points crooked, evil finger straight at me for reasons I can no longer remember* You bitch!

Pam Song: What!? You quite b*tchy also wat!!!

Colleague 2: *laughs* Haha. You two ah...

Colleague 1: *turns to look at Colleague 2* You don't talk so much lah you.... you... b*tcherer!

Colleague 2: *laughter stops abruptly*

Pam Song: Haha. Wow. You got three syllables altogether. I only got one. You more b*tchy than me! HAHA HAHA HAHA.

Colleague 2: *snaps* Please... You the b*tchy-est-er-est of us all.

Colleague 1: More like b*tchy-est-er-est-test. Haha.

Pam Song: *gasp* Yeah, you should know B*tcherology better than any of us, wouldn't you?

Colleague 2: Haha haha haha.

Pam Song: *looks pointedly at Colleague 2* You're one to laugh. At least we haven't contracted B*tchititis like you have!

Colleague 2: Wah! The b*tcherization started di loh!!!

*a lot of simultaneous talking* *repeat till fade*

I think I need to start hanging out with the cool crowd at work. Conversations of this sort are impossibly bad for my mental health.

If Darth Vader Had Bad Breath...

1. I finally understand why his suit turned black while the rest of his army stayed white.

2. The Dark Side would have overthrown the Jedi Knights with one blow. Like literally.

3. The force would have been REALLY strong with him.

4. He would have died in his own mask.

We'll see if I eventually come up with any others.



My colleagues say that I will never get Star Wars because I'm a Barbie-fied girl. Pfft. Talk about being condescending, patronizing and downright sexist, man. I say they know n-o-t-h-i-n-g. I SO get it.

Monday, November 26, 2007

I'm A Blondie On The Inside

Whoa. I just had a blond moment.
A full-fledged platinum blond one, at that.

*chill runs up spine*

It's been a while. It has. It's been ages, really. Okay, fine. Honestly speaking, I may be over-reacting just a teeny-tiny bit. But you really can't blame me for it. I guess it's cos I'm just not accustomed to going all bimbo-blondie. Yep, you heard that right. IQ of XXX me (*shy* I kinda changed my mind and decided not to reveal my IQ test score) is not too prone to bouts of blondie-ness.


But this one in particular was brutally painful for an average yellow-skinned blackslashbrunette like me. You see, I talked about my hairdryer for a whole 10 minutes. My hairdryer!!! What was I thinking?! *groans* And I was fully semangat-ed summore. *groans again* Think: With. Passion. *slaps forehead* H-a-i-y-o.

*drives stake through heart*

Talk about contracting Blondititis, man. Hello, I feel like the missing bacterial link! It's the highlights lah. It's gotta be the highlights. Oh, but those gorgeous, lovely, stunning highlights! I love them too much to ever rid my head of them. I wouldn't be able to gather enough will power to do it either. Not that I want to, of course. Why? Cos they sho sho pweddy! I like! I like! I like!

*blink blink*

DARN IT!!! How could I have just spent
10 minutes rambling on and on about my hair!?

Drats. Maybe I am blond on the inside.


Purposely Or Not?

Nuffnang served me an ad
sometime yesterday and, get this:

It's PINK!!!

So nice, right? Matching-matching summore.

Thing is... I don't remember it being pink the first time I saw it. Now I'm wondering if they changed it to match my current Pink-Power header. Haha. Ridiculous thought but I'm entertaining it all the same. They not so free kua. But but... I'm not colour-blind either! Hmmm... dunno lah. But I like! =)

EDITED at 8:18pm on 26 November 2007: Oh goodness, it changed!!! Just 5 minutes after I posted, it changed! NNNOOOOO!

Your Tummy Just Became Public Property

Yep, that's what happens when ovum meets sperm in a woman.

I'll be the first to say it: pregnancy is a beautiful thing. It is, it is. But it's also a pretty weird time for a woman, too. She gets emo for absolutely no reason at all. She feels the urge to pee every half hour or so. She craves the oddest things. (And please note that any man who denies his pregnant wife anything she so desires is a jerk through and through. No arguments accepted.) She wades around like a whale upright but the world tells her she's looking stunning. And she pukes in the morning, in the afternoon, in the night, or in the morning, noon and night.

And come on lah. When does a woman with the stomach of a whale EVER look good?! Do you think she even believes you when you say that? And don't forget... you're talking to an emotional roller coaster that's running on estrogen when you do, so I'm thinking she's probably believing otherwise before you even open your mouth to speak. Unless, of course, she's anything like me when I'm I eventually get pregnant lah. *grin*

Anyhew, that's not what this post is about. What I meant to write about is the fact that pregnancy is the only time a woman's stomach goes on free-for-all mode. Somehow or another, for the duration of 9 months, her bloated stomach is, automatically and by default, stripped of its Private Property status and is thrown head-first (if it had any) into the Public Property section.

It is and will probably be the only time in her life when men and women, young and old are given full access and are granted default permission to touch, pat and prod WITHOUT her or her husband's prior approval, with or WITHOUT the coverage of fabric of any sort. Any form of objection on her or her husband's part is deemed highly inappropriate and terribly unnecessary. Why? Cos she's pregnant mah!

Sigh. How come nobody want to touch my stomach wan? =(

Jason Ngan

Friend: *dreamily* I want a son lah. *sighs*

Pam Song: *equally as dreamily* I also want a son lah. *sighs*

Friend: *snaps out of dreamy mood* Haiyo, I want a sooonnnn! GIMMIE A SOOONNNN!

Pam Song: Haiya, you don't talk so much lah you! Jason Ngan! Jason Ngan! Jason Ngan!!!

Friend: *blink blink* Huh? Who's Jason Ngan!?

Pam Song: *eyes wide open* Oh my goodness, woman! Your son!!!

Friend: -_- *pauses for effect* My son's name is JACOB NGOH. JACOB NGOH! J-A-C-O-B N-G-O-H!!!

Pam Song: *pause* Oh. *giggle* Whoops. Sorry lah.


See? This is why we should have supper together more often.


*breathe in, breathe out*

Okay, this is not good. It is not good at all.

*breathe in, breathe out*


*clamps eyes shut and says sinner's prayer
about a hundred thousand times*

I'm not kidding. I really did that. And I'll bet you would too if you were where I was at the time I wrote this post.

Read on...

So here I am, sitting in Firefly flight F-something-something, which boarded at Gate 14 at the Penang International Airport... and I'm one step away from pissing my pants. Literally. And mind you, it's NOT that I didn't pee beforehand. It's NOT that I didn't plan ahead. And it's NOT that I didn't have foresight in the matter.

Before we begin, let's get one thing straight. I am NOT afraid of heights and I do NOT have a fear of flying. But let put it this way: things are just different with Firefly. You'll soon see why. Moving on.

Firstly, Firefly starts with an F because it means you have to walk Far Far to get to the plane. (Which, also means you have to walk Far Far to get out of no-man's-land and into a surprisingly un-deserted Terminal 3, Subang.) Sure, you exit at Gate 14. But that doesn't mean that Gate 14's where you board the plane. No no. You walk right onto some runway-platform-empty-space area where the plane is parked, and THEN you board the plane. Correction, you board some toy-ish looking plane.

It's small. Like very. Puny. Pathetically so.
They make school buses bigger than this plane I'm in.

13 rows altogether. 4 seats per row. That makes a total of 52 seats on flight. Plus 2 flight attendants. (Air Asia attendants are prettier and slimmer, if you must know. Nicer uniforms, too!) And 2 pilots. (I really hope it's 2.) That makes it a flight of 56 persons in total. Little phee sai (that's Hokkien for "booger", if you didn't know). Pfft. Child's play lah this one.

It's like riding the bus, actually. Except with less leg room and breathing space. When you first enter, the initial shock of being in such a cramped space for a whole hour takes a total of 10 minutes to get over... before sheer panic sets in. You see, there is no room for anything but seats. And once you're in those seats, there's no going anywhere. Not even if there was an emergency and you really, really had to run for your life. Picture this. When the stewardess stretched her arms to her sides to show us the emergency exits, she did it with her elbows at her sides. That's how small the plane is. So kia lang. For the first time, I paid close attention to the safety announcement made. Like my life depended on it, man. (This time really life depending on it di. Cannot siao siao. I very kiasi wan.)

Oh, and did I mention? The plane is super-uber-old-school. It uses propellers. IT USES PROPELLERS FOR CRYIN' OUT LOUD!!! Like, hello!? Who the heck uses propellers these days!? Panic. And then summore this brilliant bozo seated next to me told me that he read somewhere that MAS finally found a way to recycle Malaysia's old war planes... DURING TAKE-OFF!!! Double, triple, quadruple panic. Heart almost stop. No joke.

*breathe in, breathe out*

How lah to tahan one hour in a plane liddat? Plus, the plane looked older than I am, man!? And I'm like freaking old now loh!!! Si liao lah zhi pai. I sket. Hair stand; leg shake; armpit sweat.

*breathe in, breathe out*

Oh, and another freaky thing was that I could see land the whole way through to my destination. Quite scary loh. Penang very bright at night = very happening place to live in. Ipoh very dark = not happening at all. KL's... well, KL's KL.

Anyhew, they passed us survey forms to complete whilst on board with questions like... Uh, questions like... Like... Hmmm. Tough one. I don't know the questions. I didn't read it, actually. HAHA. But that's besides the point. I WANTED to fill it in. I did. As did the guy seated next to me. But we, plane-using, high-flying people, are a generation of avid travelers who believe in the concept of traveling light, you see. *cough cough* And when I say light, I actually mean "without pens in our pockets." So what we did was ask Ms Stewardess in the signature orange and white uniform if she had a pen to lend us to fill in the survey forms SHE passed us. Guess what. MISS ORANGE-AND-WHITE-STEWARDESS-WOMAN TAK ADA PEN!!! Haiyo. What is the meaning of this lah. Fail. So fail.

All in all, I'd say that Firefly is not for the faint-hearted. Pregnant women, the elderly and passengers with heart problems are advised to kick up big fusses and insist that they get to take a ride in REAL planes cos MAS' baby brother is obviously not old enough to fly.

Take my advice. You'd do well by keeping far, far away from this one... unless you're from Penang and you're really, really kiasu – want fast fast, summore want cheap cheap – so much so that you're willing to jampi yourself into forgetting about being kiasi cos you're just so darn kiam siap.

Go, Firefly. Whoop-dee-doo.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

The Ultimate Cure To Insomnia

Make ooo-ing and ahh-ing noises as soon as your head hits the pillow. Stretch to aid sound production if it doesn't come naturally to you. (Up-tight much?) It helps deceive your body into believing that you're tired even if you're not. Trust me. It's all about working psychology to your advantage. I tried it out for a couple of days and it worked like a charm each and every time.

Banish insomnia. Ooo your way to a good night's rest tonight.
This public service message was brought to you by Tinki Talks.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

She's Back

I'm pissed. And angry. And cross. And frustrated. And irritated. And annoyed. And peeved. And exasperated. And displeased. And irked.


...says the Dark Queen.

Dear All,

Thank you.

For that beautiful, white technological-marvel-of-a-gadget I love so much. For the countless conversations shared. For the encouraging and uplifting prayers of thanksgiving and blessing. For the tops and dresses purchased as pressies especially for me. For the wonderful cards couriered my way. For the e-cards sent. For the songs so sweetly sung. For that heart-warming self-made video clip. For the blog post dedicated. For the tidbits and munchies given. For the meals belanja-ed. For the surprise gift left to be discovered. For the picture messages delivered. For the many sms' sent (from all over the world). For the calls made (even from Australia and Singapore). For the comments posted. For the well-wishes conveyed. For the time spent (together and in preparation for whatever it was you did for me). For all the effort put into making the 21st of November 2007 that much more special for me.

Thank you (all 83 of you who remembered) for everything.


EDITED at 11:35am, 22 November 2007: 87.

EDITED at 2:47pm, 22 November 2007: 88.

EDITED at 3:21pm, 23 November 2007: 95.
Hah! Late, late, late.

EDITED at 8:08, 24 November 2007: 96.
Wah! Still got people sms today ah?

EDITED 10:52pm, 25 November 2007: 97.

EDITED 11:42pm, 26 November 2007: 98.
Double whoa.

Must Or Else No Kick

Why is it that a sneeze doesn't satisfy without a loud and resounding AHH-CHHOOO? Why does a HAAHHH yawn feel so much nicer than one with just a silent open mouth? Why doesn't a silent cough ease an irritated throat as much as one that goes COUGH COUGH? Why does an MMM stretch feel like it stretches more muscles than one without a sound? Why does it feel more rewarding to cough up phlegm with a loud, obnoxious HOCK than without?

I don't know, actually. But just must loh.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

21 November 2007

It's that day of the year again. Drats.

Sure, Life has been good to me thus far. But hey, I've got my fair share of bad days, too! Every once in awhile, they pop up, ruffle my feathers, give me bad hair, ruin my day... and then go away. I emerge from the tornado of emotional upheaval hoping to look the way I did before, but the mess of feathers and frizzy hair makes sure that I never do.

But then again, that's life, eh? Full of curve balls and drop shots that I'll never ever catch or return. Maybe they're there to hike the excitement level up a notch. Stop me from getting complacent. I don't know. All I know is that it doesn't excite me. Because when I fail to outwit those blasted stabs Life throws me (which is what seems to happen a lot of the time), I disappoint. Myself and the people around me.

I always disappoint.

I guess I've gotta start telling myself that I've just gotta get the hang of it and it'll all be fine. Anyway, a friend once told me, "When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade." I can't disagree. But at the same time, I've got a swimming pool's worth of lemonade already but nothing else to show for it. So what does that say? It says that lemonade just doesn't sell. I think I need to start getting different fruits to make different drinks.



What a rotten number.

*sighs again*

I wanna be 12!!!

*stomps feet*

I want a miracle pill to make bad days feel good. The pill I'm on doesn't seem to be working the kinks out for me. Today shall be speak-for-itself baby-T day. It's mantra?

Bleh. Have a good day, everyone.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

The Boss Says She Goes On Indefinite Sabbatical

Okay, if you've seen the new banner (you must be blind not to have seen it if you haven't), you'd probably have realised (if you didn't you really should have) that the Dark Queen (if you don't know who she is, where have you been?) was not featured.

Jeng jeng jeng.


No, not really.

So here's the story. I'm ditching the Dark Queen cos... let's face it. Nobody really cares about her anyways. All they call this space is Tinki Talks, Tinki Talks, Tinki Talks. So since she so no glamour, she might as well vamoose outta here for good (till I decide she is to return to grace your flat screens), right?

So, dear readers, please note that from now on, she will only appear as a guest star on this blog. No more, no less. From this moment forward, I officially announce that the Dark Queen is on sabbatical for an indefinite duration of time. You shall be notified if she is to return. She will be missed.


8 days and a pathetic countdown later, here ya go.

It's out with the old...

...and in with the new.

5, 4, 3, 2

Okay, I'm getting desperate. Like REALLY desperate. Haha. Why so pathetic wan? Haiyo! You know, I realise how lame this countdown may seem... but what the heck lah. I do what I like on my blog.


But but but... worry not. For even though the countdown was left on hold for the longest time, the project was kept active and in the works. The project previews TONIGHT. Stay tuned.

Superb Sound Effects

Colleague: Eh, Pam ah. Have you thought of having your own baby?

Pam Song: Of course! Own baby, who don't want? But where got so easy lah... You think anytime say want means want ah?

Colleague: Easy wat!

Pam Song: *scoffs* Chei. Talk only lah you. And please lah. Get that head of yours out of Facebook. Those babies don't count.

Colleague: No lah. Really wan! Ask me how! Ask me how! (A bit over excited so I a bit kia kia.)

Pam Song: *apprehensively* Fine. How?

Colleague: Just ten ten ten, then uh uh uh, then ugh ugh ugh... then got di lo! *beams*

Pam Song: -_- How is it even possible that I work with you?


Conclusion: Sound effects condense information very well.

And I work with weirdos.

Playing House

All day Saturday and Sunday.


I had a very busy weekend. A lot of running here and there, a lot of time spent waiting, and an even bigger lot of time went into doing hard work. *sweat* It ain't easy playing house. Not at all. But it felt really good to have kept house. Plus, it wasn't like it wasn't any fun at all. Haha. The company counts and in the end, I had a blast while slogging away like a pig in a mud puddle. You know, I bet I was way more productive than any of you last weekend. Be ashamed.


1. Send car for major service. CHECK! The words 'car maintenance' are synonymous with the name, 'Wallet Killer'. Always proceed with caution (and/or a credit card with a good limit). Nuff said.

2. De-weed the lawn. CHECK! Waaay too much work to be done with a puny, blunt scissors. Weeds grow too quickly. If I ever have a front lawn or a backyard in my home, I'll definitely hire a gardener. After my personal home landscape artist works his magic, of course.

3. Prune bougainvillea plant. CHECK! Stupid prick killed my fingers with its thick branches. That blunt scissors was a pathetic match. Totally. If I never write again, it's it's fault.

Darn it, my whole hand looks bengkak lah.
(It looks a lot worse today, actually. Yuck.)
I need a killer lawyer. I plan to sue a plant.

4. Sweep porch and clear driveway. CHECK! Autumn finally left my driveway. No more ugly, brown, crinkled, dry leaves to line the entrance to my home (for the time being). Wheee! So clean! I like!

5. Clear empty shoe boxes. CHECK! I never knew I had that many empty shoe boxes. Why are they empty in the first place, anyways!? What happened to those shoes!? (That's pretty pathetic, actually. I'd rather have shoes with no boxes than boxes with missing shoes.)

6. Dispose of old, worn-out shoes. CHECK! I'm sorry but it's time's up, you guys. You perfected an outfit or two but your run is over. It was good while it lasted – I'll give you that. Haha. I threw a sneaker away, two slip-ons and two sandal-ish heels. (Hmmm. Maybe some of these shoes contributed to the mysterious pile of empty boxes.)

7. Rearrange shoes on rack. CHECK! Easy peasy lemon squeezy. So much so, it was done in a jiffy! (So lame lah me.)

8. Empty all bins and throw out the trash. CHECK! *cheekily* Tell you a secret if you promise not to tell the people it's about, about me telling you the secret. (Whoa.) *whispers* There was so much trash we had to get rid off that the rubbish bin at home just couldn't take anymore. So... *evil glint in eye* ...we kinda moved on to the neighbour's bin just next door. HAHA. Shhh! And when that filled up, we settled on walking across the street to one of those killer MPSJ dump sites. Quite terrer-menerrer, right? *grin*

9. Change blown bulbs. CHECK! Almost a hundred Ringgit worth of bulbs wei. And trust me, that's a lot of bulbs. Like, A LOT. Don't play play. Heh. When it comes to lighting, you can be sure that I always mean serious business.

Is it wrong that I get all tingly inside when I look at these ping pong bulbs? (I promise you, that's what they're called.) I love it lah. It stirs up the pretty butterflies in my tummy and leaves it a little fuzzy.

10. Change tungsten lights to fluorescent. CHECK! It's better for reading. But so odd. Now I'm lovesick for tungsten. How? Sigh. Plus, fluorescent brings out the worst things – inch-thick dust, hair balls, water stains, and... well, dust again. I so need to give my room a good sweeping and a thorough mopping. Aarrrggghhh! That means more work! Die. Next weekend lah.

11. Play with WD-40 Lube everything that squeaks. CHECK! Car door, room door, toilet door, padlocks, gate rollers, gate wheels, gate rollers, gate machinery, gate rollers, gate rollers, gate rollers... Yes, I got carried away. I felt like Super Woman lah, I tell you. So power! Haha. Plus, it was heaps of fun spraying everything with invisi lube and not having to worry that it'd stain anything. Close eye also can spray. Haha! =p Wildly exhilarating in some ways.

12. Make electric gate work. CHECK! Finally! It's finally stopped bouncing! Like, finally! WD-40 is a miracle lubricant lah, I tell you. No fight. I swear by this technological marvel. It works on ANYTHING! If there's one single household tool you need to equip your house with, it's WD-40. It's da bomb.


A dozen things to do in just 48 hours, AND I DID IT... *beams* ...with a little biddy-bit of help. Haha. But on a whole, it was fun. Don't forget: many hands make work light; four hands make work fun.



Go out and get your own can of WD-40 today!


I couldn't believe my eyes. Still can't.
Take a look at these babies, man!!!

Heaven dropped a pile of
peanuts on my plate!

I'm so excited!


*rips one open and stuffs face*

Mmm mmm

Who says blogging doesn't pay off? It so does, okayyy. Take my word for it. I got 2 in October, and 20 today just cos I blogged about my cravings sometime before. Hah! I got, you got or not? NOT!


Monday, November 19, 2007


Pencils. Cool ones. I call them Funcils. You see, they're pencils but are not of the normal kind that present themselves with black and yellow stripes. *snore* No, siree. In fact, they're nowhere near that. They're a zillion times funkier! Uh, in a cute but un-cuddly kinda way.

Meet Flyaway Train...

...Fishy Copter...

...Bobble Bear...

...and Propeller Car.

Cute, right? Ya, cute.

Happy family? No, not really.

Flyaway Train and Propeller Car eloped!!! Jeng jeng jeng. Hah. Trust them wheely funcils to go off on their own without the other two. I smell hanky-panky. Something's up those mud guards. (I don't care if trains don't have mud-guards.)

You know, I feel like writing about
unspeakables today. And so I shall.
(If anybody asks, I'm denying everything.)

We see this most clearly when Malaysian students travel abroad, claiming that they're going to go all out to see the world and learn all they can about life away from home. See and learn? Pfft. Rubbish. They only end up falling straight into their respective social boxes, neatly differentiated by crystal clear racial lines. Oh, and it's the only time Malaysians and Singaporeans find themselves on the same team. Aargh, whatever the case, it's a pity to get the chance to study abroad, and to come back having learnt n-o-t-h-i-n-g about the culture of the place where they were at.

So, all said and done, it all comes down to this: at the end of the day, what the world tells us to believe ultimately becomes Truth if none of us stand up against it. Sure, birds of a feather flock together. But do we all HAVE to? Why should we be drawn towards our own kind and our kind alone? And if you didn't know... THAT'S BAD.

Sigh. How unfair can life be?

People with no appreciation for life abroad get to enjoy it but people ala Desperado like me stay behind, gripe and give off envious vibes.

Blah. I need a perk-me-up real bad right now.

Oh oh, wait! Here it is. Tada!

p/s: I love my fingers.

Face On A Milk Carton


My apologies for going missing.

The said hiatus is, as of this moment, officially over. Intensive verbal diarrhea session, coming up in the few hours before sundown.

Consider yourselves forewarned.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

7, 6

I'm such a loser when it comes to keeping deadlines.

If I could give my bum a hard kick, I would. It's just too bad that my biological structure doesn't allow that. Aaarrrgggh! I need to be pushed. That's it lah. I'm throwing in an extra number today.



It's no wonder I'm not friends with me.


Artist: Colbie Caillat
Song Title: Bubbly

Spoken: Will you count me in?

I've been awake for a while now
You got me feelin' like a child now
'Cause every time I see your bubbly face
I get the tinglies in a silly place

It starts in my toes
And I crinkle my nose
Wherever it goes, I always know
That you make me smile
Please stay for a while now
Just take your time, wherever you go

The rain is fallin' on my window pane
But we are hidin' in a safer place
Under covers stayin' dry and warm
You give me feelings that I adore

They start in my toes
Make me crinkle my nose
Wherever it goes, I always know
That you make me smile
Please stay for a while now
Just take your time, wherever you go

But what am I gonna say
When you make me feel this way
I just mmm

It starts in my toes
Makes me crinkle my nose
Wherever it goes, I always know
That you make me smile
Please stay for a while now
Just take your time, wherever you go

I've been asleep for a while now
You tuck me in just like a child now
'Cause every time you hold me in your arms
I'm comfortable enough to feel your warmth

It starts in my soul
And I lose all control
When you kiss my nose, the feelin' shows
'Cause you make me smile
Baby just take your time now
Holdin' me tight

Wherever, wherever, wherever you go
Wherever, wherever, wherever you go
Wherever you go, I always know
'Cause you make me smile, even just for awhile
I'm a Colbie Caillat addict.


No.3 came in the mail today. Yay!

And while we're at it, know that my countdown has pathetically stopped at 8. Sigh. I don't know what to do with myself. I so need to get that project on the road. Time's running out on me.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Open Close Open Close Close

I had the worst night's sleep ever. EVER! E-V-E-R. (If only you could hear me drag out the word. You can count on it having more than two syllables.) Bad dreams, panic attacks, unwelcomed surprises – the works. You name it, I had it. But right now, that's the least of my worries. I can't seem to keep my eyes open no matter what I do! Ugh. Liddat means how lah!?

Today's gonna be one long day.


What The World Needs Now Is Love

Artist: Andrea Ross
Song Title: What The World Needs Now Is Love

What the world needs now is love, sweet love
It's the only thing that there's just too little of
What the world needs now is love, sweet love
No not just for some but for everyone

Lord, we don't need another mountain
There are mountains and hillsides enough to climb
There are oceans and rivers enough to cross
Enough to last till the end of time

What the world needs now is love, sweet love
It's the only thing that there's just too little of
What the world needs now is love, sweet love
No, not just for some but for everyone

Lord, we don't need another meadow
There are cornfields and wheat fields enough to grow
There are sunbeams and moonbeams enough to shine
Oh listen, Lord, if you want to know

Lord, we don't need another meadow
There are cornfields and wheat fields enough to grow
There are sunbeams and moonbeams enough to shine
Oh listen, Lord, if you want to know

What the world needs now is love, sweet love
What the world needs now is love, sweet love
Is love, sweet love
What the world needs now
What the world needs now

No matter what people say and
no matter how much they deny it,
they're all looking for love.

We all are... in some way or another. We just look for it in different ways. We find it in different things. Receive it from different people. And feel it in different situations.

But the bottom line is this:
we all want to be loved.

And anybody who claims otherwise is, in my eyes, a liar. A liar I take pity on, I must add. Simply because, well, a person who resists love is one who is essentially just too scared to go out on a limb and let anybody other than themselves in. And that's sad. Because when you're too scared to do that, it only shows that you don't love yourself enough to give yourself a chance to feel the love that the people around you are willing to give you.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007


I didn't get to clock in any photoshop hours today but oh well, whatthehew. I'm not gettin' any younger so I just might as well start livin' it up. Here's to another number.



I made progress yesterday! Wheee!


p/s: This post looks so weird, doesn't it? And mind you, it looked even weirder without these line I'm adding. Yes, I'm pathetically postscripting for art's sake and nothing more. Now, at the very least, it looks 'grounded'. Heh. It's all about art direction, my friends. All about art direction. (Yeah, right. Like I'd know anything about that.)

Monday, November 12, 2007


I know I said I'd do something. And I'm working on it. Really. I am. It's just that things have been pretty hectic for me lately. And that kinda makes on-the-comp playtime scarce. But here's what I'm gonna do to make me find time. Start a countdown.


Life Has A Sick Sense Of Humour

Albeit a little on the dark side, if you ask me. You see, she plays with ironies. And she absolutely loves satire. She finds so much joy in mocking me and indulging herself in my misery that it's amazing we're still friends, journeying hand in hand.

Okay, so here's the story. There I was looking for an exterminator to rid my place of pests and rodents, large and small. My biggest problem? Rats in the ceiling. After many sleepless nights and more than my fair share of rants and raves to anybody who'd offer me a listening ear, I decided to put my money where my mouth was and HIRE an exterminator. Jeng jeng jeng.

The rats must have smelt my resolve to exterminate them that they disappeared the day after the exterminators came for a look-see. Whoopie! I had a free consultation, AND the rats left on their own! So far so good, sun-shiny days, life's been kind, hardy har har, thankyouverymuch.

And then I got new housemates.

Brilliant people, they are. Really.
(I'm trying very hard to believe that.)

Two months into their stay, they both went out and got a cute (scratch that, it's not), little (small enough to squeeze to a pulp with my bare hands) pet together. Keyword here: Together. It's one of those we-raise-a-rodent-and-pretend-it's-our-kid kinda things. So sweet, right? Not. Look lah!

They got a RAT. The buggers actually went out and got a RAT! They PAID good money for a lousy, slimy, filthy, useless RAT!!! What is the world coming to, I ask you!? This is proof that our education system (after Class of 2001, of course) just isn't doing what it's supposed to do – educate! And as though it isn't enough that we've got rats in our ceiling, we now have rats in OUR living area. (Yes, I'm very territorial. My space is MY space. I need my space.) Rats that we feed AND house, BY CHOICE!

What is the meaning of this lah. So ridiculous. Haih.

Look at that. Yuck.

If only you could see the disgust on my face.

Sunday, November 11, 2007


I really wanna blog tonight... but Blogger isn't being nice. In fact, it's being a real pain. My pictures aren't loading properly. In fact, they're not really loading at all! They keep getting jammed halfway. Thing is, for the post I'm writing, I. Want. Pictures. No compromise.



Ugh. Frus.


EDIT at 0905 hours on Monday, 12 November 2007: Realised it was Streamyx's fault and not Blogger's. I should have known. Bleh. You'd think that Streamyx would be watching their back considering there's competition around the corner... but they're not. They're still slacking off and forcing me to postpone my posts and lose my feel. Haih.

Saturday, November 10, 2007

Boy Munya Satu

I seem to chance upon weird conversations a little too often.
I blame the company I'm always with. It's cos they're weird.


Friend: Macha! Roti kosong satu, telur itu boil munya satu.

Pam Song: *snicker*

Friend: What?

Pam Song: Boy munya telur you boleh order. Girl munya saya mau order ada kah? *grin*

Friend: -_-

So Swirly

I fell in love with the clouds today.

It's just too bad that there's a big chance they'll
not be here long enough to see tomorrow.

Friday, November 09, 2007

The Facebook Era

We're living in scary times, my friends. Very scary times. At first, the problem was Friendster. But of late, Cyberworld has seen the rise of the Facebook era and its rapidly growing army.

See this pretty telur mata kerbau?

Shiny and smooth surface aside, it's normal only, right? Wrong. Why? Cos weird things go through people's heads when they see it.

Pam Song: Eh, the egg so nice lah! So shiny!

Friend: I know! It's just like the eggs I receive in Facebook!

Pam Song: *blink blink* Can you even have ONE conversation without mentioning or thinking about Facebook?! -_-

Malacca In Pictures... and a few words.

Blue skies, albeit behind a scattering of fluffy white clouds.

Did I see anything interesting enough to blog about? Yes.

Would it be considered blog-worthy to other bloggers? Possibly not.

And yes. I was made in Malaysia. Guarantee.

Title Unavailable. Brain Dead. Think Tomorrow.

Two words:
Am. Back.

Another two words:
Dead. Tired.

Yet another two words:
Need. Sleep.

Two last words for the day (sort of, anyway):
Good. Night.

Thursday, November 08, 2007

You Care No Care?

This is too confusing a way to start my day.

Friend: Eh, they care or not wan?

Pam Song: No lah. I dun think they care lor. We not so close also so they sure dun care wan. I am closer to him so maybe he care a bit lah. But you dun care if he care lah. I care you care enough lor. Cos if we care sure they care wan I think.


Too long never talk rubbish di. So tak biasa.

Anyway, it's a holiday today. (About time.) Whoopie! I'm off for a daytime adventure somewhere near but not that near. Think: Negeriku yang bersih dan indah. *snicker* Perhaps you'll hear of my tales upon my return. IF there's anything to shout about lah, that is.


Wednesday, November 07, 2007

DYMO Me A Nipple

My colleagues need a good spanking.

There I was, out for lunch. Eating my heart out, stuffing my face, having a jolly good time and really relishing my hour-long break from work. Little did I know, a number of two-legged devils were having a full-fledged DYMO party of their own... at my expense. Back from lunch, I did what I always do. Put on my jacket.

And then the laughter started.

Everybody's competing to be the biggest donkey (monkey, barbarian – whatever have you) these days. It's so weird. In my day, none of us wanted to be it, and none of us wanted anything to do with those already negatively labeled. Things are different now. Times have changed... and ADs don't seem to be getting enough briefs anymore.

Too free; not enough work that's why can
go all out and create havoc at the office.

Tsk tsk.


Tuesday, November 06, 2007


Yep, I did it. And I LOVE IT. Love it. Love. It.

And you can forget about more pictures.
I ain't showin' any. So selfish hor? =p

Project SRSS

This is the hour. This is the moment. The moment we make all wrong things right again. The time has come, dear adversaries. Oh yes, the time has come. And that time begins today. Be afraid. Cos we're standing up. We're stepping out. And we're fighting for a place among the stars. Project SRSS is underway. And you're going down.

*blink blink*


Did I just type that?!

Die Die Want Lemon

I've got this thing about ordering expensive Coke. And let's face it. Coke that doesn't come from a vending machine or a fast food joint is crazy expensive. So how do I make myself feel less crummy about spending good money on a lousy petrol kiosk drink?

Well, I always ask for lemon in it.
Die die also must have ONE slice.

One slice only wat. Gimmie that one slice can go bankrupt meh? One slice also need to show sour face meh? It's already ridiculous charging RM12 for a pathetic glass of Coke, okay. The least I can have is a slice of lemon in it. That isn't too much to ask, now, is it? Well, yes, apparently it is. And no, friends will never understand.


Colleague 1: Eh, how come all our drinks never come wan?

Colleague 2: There! This girl lah! Coke Coke Coke. Summore want lemon! Summore people have to go chop lemon! Haih!

Pam Song: Uh... It's slice.

Colleague 2: *blink blink* Huh?

Pam Song: S-L-I-C-E.

Colleague 2: Why? Slice what?

Pam Song: The lemon. Cos you don't chop a lemon up. You slice it.

Colleague: *pause* Oh. Haha. What'd I say?

Pam Song: *rolls eyes and shakes head* I give up.

Christmas Surprises Take A Backseat

Step on the brakes!!!

I don't believe I made a mistake. I totally forgot that something else comes before Christmas! Haha. It's getting easier and easier to tune out and ignore certain things in life as the years go by. (That was a hint, if you didn't know.) So it looks Tinki Talks is gonna be gearing itself up for that instead. Christmas is gonna have to wait. =p

(But hey, Christmas is near.)

Monday, November 05, 2007

Christmas Is Near

Very near. And I've got something up my sleeve.

*sly smile*


I don't know what to make of this conversation.


Colleague 1: Pam why you didn't wanna drink with me?

Pam Song: Just didn't want lah. Not like it makes a difference anyways. You were so drunk that night lah.

Colleague 1: Yeah, but I was sober!

Pam Song: *rolls eyes*

Colleague 2: *whispers* See, still drunk from that night.

Pam Song: Ya lah. Just because you didn't shimmy up to any girls like the others did doesn't mean you weren't drunk, okay.

Colleague 1: *blink blink*

Colleague 2: *looks at Colleague 1* Just ignore her. It's weird Penang feminist logic. Sometimes I dunno what she's talking about also. *turns to face Pam Song* Your Bukit Tambun going to be reclaimed by the sea already lah.

*scratches head*

Where's the logic in that?!

People Go See House

...I go take pics.

Simply because... takes away...

...the pain of...

...not having... of those homes... my name.

Seri Tanjung Pinang by E&O Properties.
It's gorgeous. I can so see myself living there.



"Seri Tanjung Pinang. A world-class
waterfront community like no other.

Encompassing almost 1,000 acres, the freehold Seri Tanjung Pinang extends from the northeast coast of Penang Island towards a spectacular series of islands. This will be the largest masterplanned waterfront community in Penang’s history. More than its size, however, this will be a renewal of the island’s long tradition of living refined by the rhythm of the sea."

30 Days Of Night

Yeah, the horror-thriller vampires-kill-for-kicks flick
that's showing in cinemas across Malaysia right now.

I watched it. And it didn't exactly meet my expectations. (Not that I was even expecting that much to begin with. Bleh.) My anticipation was greeted with a bucketful of cold lukewarm water. You know, I really expected more from a Josh Hartnett movie. Sigh. Even so, I learnt something from it so it wasn't a total waste of RM10.

I learnt that love thrives in the face of adversity.
(Heh. Didn't see that coming, did ya?)

. . .

I learnt that sometimes, women get silly and do silly things.
But the men who love them willingly die for them anyways.

. . .

I learnt that people in love celebrate sunrises and sunsets.
Everybody's watched one or the other some time or another.

. . .

I learnt that it's never too late to change things.

. . .

I learnt that you should always tell the person you love
how much you love them because you never know
when your last chance may pass you by.

. . .

I learnt that it isn't a logical mind or rationale that drives us
to make unimaginable sacrifices in the name of love. It's love.

Don't underestimate the learning power behind lame vamp movies. Everything experienced, everything seen and everything heard gives us the opportunity to understand and learn something from it. The possibilities are endless... and I am fantastic.

Friday, November 02, 2007

Your Armpit Smells Like Onions

Was having my dinner with a bunch of colleagues when a particularly disgusting one totally nauseated the rest of us. All because I ordered tomyam soup. Sheesh. I didn't know tomyam soup could lead into such an "interesting" conversation. Make me lose my appetite only. Talk about being OTT-ly dramatic, man. Next time control a bit can bo?

DISCLAIMER: The following post doesn't not contain any of the author and/or blog owner's heartfelt sentiments towards the issues discussed, with exception for the topic: Onions – The Pungent Bulb. All other negative, inconsiderate and scornful ethnologically-skewed comments are strictly and entirely the views of Ms Disgusting (terrible woman, she is) alone, and are in no way the opinions of the writer or the other members of the dialog presented below. May punishment only befall the foolhardy never-think-before-she-speaks woman. May the rest of us, innocent souls, be spared from all penalties and judgments. And may we be greatly rewarded for our thoughtfulness. (I'd like a new sound system for my car, thank you.)

Pam Song: *removes everything from tomyam soup and passes everything picked out from it to Vege Eater*

Ms I-get-flowers-from-my-boyfriend: Eh, you dun eat vege wan ah?

Pam Song: Got! I eat! Who say none? I just don't like onions.

Ms I-get-flowers-from-my-boyfriend: *quizzically* Huh? Why la?

Ms Disgusting & Pam Song: *together* Because onions are smelly!!! *turns to look at each other in surprise then laughs*

Pam Song: Eh! You also think the same like me! Waaa. Very rare I find somebody who feels the same way about onions as me loh.

Ms Disgusting: Of course lah. Onions smell like armpit la. Bangla armpit summore! My goodness. I cannot stand it. Blah blah blah...

Everybody Else: *in unison* Ewww...

Pam Song: Wei, you very gross lah. Can you not ah? I'm drinking that tomyam, okayyy.

Ms Disgusting: *ignores Pam Song* Blah blah blah... (Continuation from just now, man. Dunno when to diam wan this fella.) And then hor, there was this time when I went to KLCC then there were a lot of Bangla people there lah. Haiyo... I tell you, the smell ah...

Ms I-get-flowers-from-my-boyfriend: Then what? You smell tomyam everywhere? (This wan pula super blur case.)

Everybody Else: *blinks* Huh!?

Ms Disgusting: *irritably* No lahhh! Onnnnniiiioooonnnsssss!

Ms I-get-flowers-from-my-boyfriend: *blinks* Oh! How I know wor?

Pam Song: *slaps forehead* Fail lah this wan. Fail.


So tak boleh tahan when the post gets sprinkled with too many clashing colours lah. The lack of harmony annoys me no end. A pet peeve, I guess. Ugh. I have colour sense wan, okay. Sket you cannot see the distinction between characters only. Hmmph.