Thursday, July 31, 2008

Early Morning Verbal Coffee

Too early to think but not too early to ramble.


Ah Beng: Are you in yet? I woke up late. On my way now.

Pam Song: I'm passing TTDI.

Ah Beng: Haha. You champion. :)

Pam Song: Thank you. Where are you?

Ah Beng: Two-thirds away with lots of red lights.

Pam Song: Brilliant. Enjoy the lights. I'll bet they're pretty.

Ah Beng: They're telling me to slow down and smell the guavas. I don't think its possible in this lifetime or maybe only once I hit 60.

Pam Song: 60? Nah. Too long. Guava's last like a fortnight max. In the fridge. How cold is your car?

Ah Beng: Maybe 24 degrees. Good for tulips though. The white ones are delicious.

Pam Song: They're not meant for eating. The white tulips, I mean. They're for weddings. Or was it funerals? Hmmm. I forget.

Ah Beng: But don't cha know? It's the secret ingredient for heaps of things. They just don't teach you that in school. Fancy a dollop?

Pam Song: My school days taught me how to master escaping work. And then I met you and realised I was amateur. Free dollop? Depends on who's doing the dolloping.


And then Maxis played up. ROAR! What lousy network connection, man. If there was an emergency on hand, people die already lo. I only got the reply to that message before lunch. Haih. So potong.


Ah Beng: Why, a bodacious butler of course. I just treat myself to the nubile things life has to offer.

Who'd have known what the conversation would have led to if Maxis hadn't screwed up the connection and ruined the show. -_-

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Little Superhero Girl

Artist: Corrinne May
Song Title: Little Superhero Girl

I feel like a little girl
Trying to conquer the whole wide world
Everybody wants a piece of me
And I just don't know where to turn
I've got work piled up to my head
All I want to do is jump into bed
And wash away my troubles with lemonade
Play hide and seek with the boy next door
Take a trip to Singapore
And imagine how I'll make the world a better place

All I need is a good disguise
One where nobody can recognize
That I'm feeling so small
All I need is a secret weapon
I've gotta have faith
Zapping monsters into outer space
I'm gonna be a superhero

Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na, yeah

If I were a little girl
Trying to clean up the whole wide world
I'd kick the bad boys back to school
Teach them fighting's just not cool
I'd give every kid a teddy bear
Turn starving people into millionaires
Break glass ceilings with dynamite
Sprinkle a little sugar and spice
Turn the bullies that terrorize
Into pink poodles that bark but don't bite

All I need is a good disguise
One where nobody can recognize
That I'm feeling so small
All I need is a secret weapon
I've gotta have faith
Zapping monsters into outer space
I'm gonna be a Superhero

Na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na, yeah

Little superhero girl
Little superhero girl
Save me
Little superhero girl
Little superhero girl
Save me from myself

I feel like a little girl
Trying to conquer the whole wide world

"I feel like a little girl
Trying to conquer the whole wild world"

Some days, I look around me and... well, I feel small. Puny, in fact. Because there are so many other people out there who're greater than I am. Smarter than I am. Wiser than I am. More experienced than I am. Funnier than I am. Prettier than I am. Argh, they're just a whole lot better than I am. And I get scared. Scared of the big boys (and girls). Scared of the bigger, better boys (and girls). Because they make me realise that compared to them, I am nothing. And they cause me to wonder if I'll ever make it to where they're at.

"Everybody wants a piece of me
And I just don't know where to turn"

I've been so short of Me Time of late, that I've begun feeling like I've neglected myself for YEARS. It's crazy! No time to read (yeah, I went book shopping last weekend =p), no time to blog (not as much as I want to lah), no time to take drought-bringing hour-long showers, and definitely no time to burn oxygen-zapping scented candles for kicks. Damn sad case.

"I've got work piled up to my head
All I want to do is jump into bed"

Now, work of late, I must say is REALLY crazy. No kidding! I've got so much to do right now that I really don't know which JR to tackle first anymore. Psycho clients and crazy deadlines don't help either. -_-' I need a holiday. A good, long break (that doesn't include me coming back to work again *snicker*). One that allows me plenty of Me Time alongside plenty of Sleep Time. And Read Time. And Laze-About Time. Oh, and some So-You-Think-You-Can-Dance Time wouldn't hurt either. Tee hee.

Argh, so tired can die. Really beh tahan.

Thank goodness I'm Superhero Girl.
Tene nene! Tene nene!


Tuesday, July 29, 2008

One And The Same

NOTE: This post serves as a follow-up from a previously published post entitled: Farewell.


No words, just pictures...

...and just pictures with words.

7 O'Clock


Ah Beng's trying to pick up Mandarin.
(Keyword: trying) Actually quite fail.

On another one of our after-office-hours camwhoring rampages. Haha. It's the 7PM high kicking in again lah. So spare us the lecture. Save your spit. We're delinquents. And we'll do it again. And again. And again. =p

Why my finger look so short here wan???



Feels like something's different today. Like something's missing. Like something's just not right. And then I realised...

It's cos I haven't gotten my
daily dose of The Male Ah Lian. =(

Nobody's cramping up The Cu•bi•cle (and rolling around on The Legendary Ball Buster). Nobody's rushing me for copy (two whole days before deadline -_-). Nobody's telling us where we shouldn't eat for lunch (and that the lot of us MUST eat at a certain place cos Friday's vegan day). And nobody's shamelessly playing the Robert-flirt.


Is this really all I have to remind me of you?

You had...

...better come out...

...for supper someday, Hari Gawai.

You owe me that much.

The Fourth Ray Of Light

Received a pretty bouquet of flowers from a reader yesterday. Took me by surprise and totally made my day. =) And, get this: they were Eustomas! White and purple ones. Commonly used for weddings, they're also known as the Flower of the Future. (Click here and here to read a couple of previous posts that have mentioned these fragile beauties in times past.)

The bouquet even came complete with a nice, pink, girly-girl card. One that said, "Best Wishes. This is just to live up your days... Told you there are better days for tommorow. (That wasn't a typo on my part. =p) And YOU YOU YOU owe us a Happy Jolly Blog!"

Haha. See?

Who says blogging's just all fun and play?
It's a lot of hard work, too, okay!


Nevermind. I've got Eustomas. =p

Lisianthus (Eustoma) a.k.a "Flower of the Future".

How apt, huh?

Time to look forward; time to look ahead.
My very own God-sent reminder that
better tomorrows await my arrival. =)

The Truth About Advertising

JC the Screamy Male Didjital Supporter emailed me the link to this YouTube video earlier this afternoon. (He sends the cool people in the office random stuff every once in awhile.)

Didn't get to watch it immediately, no thanks to the incredibly slow internet connection at work. (Ah Beng, Balala or some other doofus must have been illegally downloading stuff during office hours. -_-)

Whatever the case, this video was worth the wait and the frustration. When I finally managed to load and watch it, I laughed throughout all 4-and-a-half minutes of it. Haha. It's simply hilarious! It pretty much got my day-to-day creative task down to a 'T'.

Guys, this is the real deal.
It's what my life in advertising is like, yo!

If you ever become a client, don't EVER forget this video.

The Third Ray Of Light

And it just keeps on shining.

Got me a second post dedication from another one of my readers today. Haha. Sweet stuff from a sweet-toothed, self-confessed chocolate addict. Haha. Very much so. Thing is...

All you post-dedicators dedicate this and that to me supaya dapat cari alasan nak join contest only huh??? Don't think I don't know. I have super powers, okay!

But it's sweet of you guys
all the same. =)

It's a good thing you said that you liked my profile pic. *cough* That comment saved your bum, like, big time. =p

Thanks. =)

NOTE: Unrelated content in screenshot removed from image prior to publishing. Click here to read RealMart give me! from source.

Monday, July 28, 2008


"It is not what has been done to you that seals the fate of your life, but how you respond to injustice that determines your destiny."

– Ps Robb Thompson, Daily Success Key, 28 July 2008

You got the quote.
Now, it's time for the story...


The Hebrew farmer's preparations did not always go according to plan. Wind, hail, mildew, hot desert winds, or invasion by locusts, cankerworms, and caterpillars may have devastated his crops. When this happened, did that farmer give up and curse God?

When life doesn't go the way you planned, step back. How can you righteously respond to the situation? Remember, you are in charge of your attitude, so you cannot blame your response on anyone, or anything, but yourself. Understanding why you feel the way you do can relieve a lot of your frustration. Filter your emotions through God's Word. Find out how Jesus would respond. What would He do in your situation?

Attitude is not based on circumstances or people. It's all about how we choose to respond! A wife cannot blame her depression on the way her husband treats her. An employee can't blame his bad attitude on the boss.

When his crops failed, the Hebrew farmer always had another season in which to plant, a divine opportunity to start all over again. There's always something positive to focus upon – discover it, and you are on your way to a great future!


Ripped all that off an email subscription I receive daily. (Click here to subscribe to it. Take my word for it, it's good.) These little doses of scripture and biblically sound teaching are what's been tiding me through this season of my life. And I really feel that this particular message really hit home. I read, I understand... and I will obey.

Daily Confession

Father, I thank You that as David encouraged himself in You, so I will encourage myself in You. I understand what has been done to me does not seal the fate of my life; but how I respond to injustice determines my destiny. Therefore I choose to respond with integrity and love.

I shall respond with INTEGRITY and LOVE.
That's my part. The rest is His.

Isaiah 40:31

"but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint."

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

The Second Ray Of Light

Kind words, godly encouragement, spiritual support and an SMS prayer from a friend who's physically a good way off, can do no wrong. In fact, it does the weary soul much good.


Lord, I pray for Tinki today,

That you'll heal her heart in places bare.
A gentle touch, a soft kiss.
A father's love, His warm embrace.
A place of peace, a place of hope,
And once again, the strength to cope.
Although we all cannot be there,
You, Almighty, will shower her with care.


– Author Undisclosed


Thank you.

On a separate note, I'd also like to thank the rest of you who have left me heartwarming comments throughout my 'downtime'. Even from yesterday afternoon, and right up to this moment in time. I thank those of you who have published posts that are especially dedicated to me. I thank those of you who have sent me encouraging SMS-es since yesterday hit, and all day today. I thank those of you who have promised to keep me in prayer. And I thank those of you who have tried cheering me up in chats. Thank you. You remind me that He cares. And that He's watching over me. And now, I want you to know that you've made a difference.

"Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does."

– William James

The First Ray Of Light

Sunshine's comin' in.

Is the dawn coming?

Is it the end of darkness?

Or rather... I hope it is.


Hmmm. Hope.

That feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen. The grounds for believing that something good may take place. That person or thing I know not of but am reaching out to for help, to save me. That optimistic expectation. That faith-fueled confidence. That trust, belief, conviction and assurance. And the promise of pleasant possibilities.

Better days are coming.
Because I have a hope. And it's in You.


Oh, and thanks for sending
people who care my way.

p/s: Click here to read A Gift For Kak Pam ^_^ from source.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Comin' Loose

My nose right now would so put Rudolph to shame.

Shan't violate your eyes with the sight of it
un-Photoshop-ed while it's all red an radiant.

You know, I think that it's about ready to fall off. -_-

I've Done My Part. Please... Do Yours.

I gave in, didn't I? I let you win. I let them fall. So much more than I could count, and for so long. So please. Please. I beg you. Just let me go. I've had enough. Release me. And just stop. Stop the pain. Stop the hurting. And stop the haunting. Because I can't take it anymore. Stop the thoughts. Those that come by day and by night. I've had enough of the thoughts that plague me when I work. When I drive. When I'm in the shower. When I eat... and even when I don't eat. I've had enough of the thoughts that keep me lying awake at night. Those that make me resort to crying myself to sleep. Because I know that it'd be better than not sleeping at all. And I want you to know that I've had enough. You win. So, let me go. Please. And let me live.

Rolling Hills

"But don’t hold [back] your tears, let it out, let it be, for there is no one but me. Let me see you cry, let me see it stop so I could wipe of the tears. I’m sure by then, if you are still hanging on to me, laughter will fill the air, and before you’ll know it, we’ll be rolling down the hill of joy."

– Author Undisclosed

Thank you. (You know who you are and that's all that matters.) It's people like you and times like these that constantly remind me that no matter how alone I feel... I'm actually not that alone after all. Cos I've got you guys. And in these moments I realise something I've known all along but have somehow allowed myself to forget over time. I realise that having and keeping the people who care about me in my life... is a good thing.

I want to start rolling.
Will you roll with me?

Embrace It

Okay. I relent. I'll give in. Just this once. And I'll leave the rest of it to The Weatherman. Just like you told me to.

"Embrace it. Then only let it go. It's learning
how to feel and then learning how to deal."

– Author Undisclosed

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Night Out, All Night, Tonight

Am not spending tonight alone.
And it feels good to be doing this.

To be able to give in to the desires of the people who want me around. People who long for my presence. And to finally be able to satisfy my need for company, and accumulate all the love I can... in just one night.

It feels good to not have to be alone. And to not be lonely. To have more than no one. Because tonight, I have more than someone.


Artist: Sway
Song: Bic Runga

Don't stray, don't ever go away
I should be much too smart for this
You know it gets the better of me
Sometimes when you and I collide
I fall into an ocean of you
Pull me out in time don't let me drown, let me down
I say it's all because of you

And here I go, losing my control
I'm practising your name so I can say it to your face
It doesn't seem right to look you in the eye
And let all the things you mean to me
Come tumbling out my mouth
Indeed it's time, tell you why
I say it's infinitely true

Say you'll stay, don't come and go like you do
Sway my way, yeah, I need to know all about you

And there's no cure and no way to be sure
Why everything's turned inside out
Instilling so much doubt
It makes me so tired, I feel so uninspired
My head is battling with my heart, my logic has been torn apart
And now it all turns sour
Come sweeten my every afternoon

Say you'll stay, don't come and go like you do
Sway my way, yeah, I need to know all about you
Say you'll stay, don't come and go like you do
Sway my way, yeah, I need to know all about you
It's all because of you, it's all because of you

And now it all turns sour
Come sweeten my every afternoon

It's time, tell you why
I say it's infinitely true

Say you'll stay, don't come and go like you do
Sway my way, yeah, I need to know all about you
Say you'll stay, don't come and go like you do
Sway my way, yeah, I need to know all about you
It's all because of you, it's all because of you
It's all because of you

Been listening to this song religiously for the past week. Ever since I stopped by Melissa's blog. (Haha. She's got one hell of a playlist there and it's been doubling up as my early morning jukebox. The one I use when I'm getting ready for work. =p)

I've always liked this song. Even before it hit its prime during those American Pie days. I think I like it cos it's different. And because it's emo. And also because it's a different kind of emo. You know? Plus, I like the way it seems like the singer's just talking in melodic tones. (Chorus aside.) Bottom line is that it's just very different lah. And Bic Runga's voice is just so crazy-hypnotic throughout. Sigh. Love it.

"And there's no cure and no way to be sure
Why everything's turned inside out
Instilling so much doubt

It makes me so tired, I feel so uninspired
My head is battling with my heart
My logic has been torn apart"

I feel like my whole world's upside down right now. Everything's just not the way it should be. It's been spinning weird. Off its axis. And now everything's topsy-turvy. Inside out. And this state of disequilibrium is making me want to gag and puke my insides out.

Holding back the vomit and swollowing the effects of my gag reflex is tiring me out. Mentally, physically and emotionally. I don't know how much more of this I can take. And I don't know how much longer I can hold on. Because my grip is slipping. It is. In spite of my best efforts, it's slipping. And it makes me wonder if somehow, secretly... deep down inside, I actually want to let go. That I want to fall. And that I want to crash. And end it all. Because it's easier that way. I wonder.

"Pull me out in time don't let me drown, let me down"


I need to stop over-analysing things. I need to stop speculating. I need to stop these pointless monologues that relentlessly go on and on in my head at night. I need to stop worrying about things I have no control of. I need to stop wondering if things are happening (or if they're not). I need to stop questioning things I'll never find the anwers to (unless I ask). I need to stop lying to myself. I need to stop pretending that everything's alright. I need to stop putting on smiley-faced masks. I need to stop the gnawing of this self-inflicted guilt. I need to stop second-guessing myself (and others). I need to stop trying to change the things I can't. I need to stop stressing. I need to stop being fearful of the things I don't know. I need to stop blaming myself. I need to stop thinking. And I need to go to sleep.

Seemingly Meaningless Conversations Only We Understand

Lately, I've been feeling like I haven't
had much to be happy about in life.

It's like everytime I go out, I just leave myself to run on Auto Mode and I do what I always do. By default. I do what's expected of me. And I put on a mask and play a role. I smile and laugh as people expect me to. And I do it at all the right times. And then I say the right things and crack the right jokes that make other people laugh in response when the situation calls for it.

But then I come home feeling empty.
Alone. Sad. Depressed. And pathetic.


I need something to be happy about.

I want that spark back. That zest for life that somehow died and took with it a part of me. I need that magic I used to feel. That magic I used to have. I need to be enchanted once again. With Life and with all the things that are said to make it as great as is. Because I'm not. Or at least I don't seem to be.


Pam Song: Awww, how nice. (I can't remember what this was in reference to already. This SMS conversation took place so long ago.) You're venison!

Ah Beng: You're for gra. (Yes, he spelt it this way.) Expensive but unpronounceable. Lol.

Pam Song: Faux pas.

Ah Beng: Faux pas, yo!

Pam Song: *smiles to self*


I need something to be happy about.
I need a reason. Give me a reason.

Friday, July 25, 2008

It's Happening

Today. All day. 8AM - 2AM.

This had better be good.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Of Racist Comments, Sexist Comments & Generalisations

Was looking through Timothy Tiah the Lion King of Nuffnang's blog and I read his latest post entitled What I Look For In A Girl & Why I Wanna Get Married. (It's a good post. Go read.) As always, there were plenty of comments. (He is the Lion King of Nuffnang, after all.) But there was this one comment buried in the lot that really caught my eye. So much so that I decided to visit its owner's blog.

Her name's Melissa. And I'm guessing she's
his ex. His already wedded 24-year-old ex.
(Not to him, of course. Duh.)

Well, I've gone through all her posts (she seems to have just recently started blogging) and the more I read, the more I find it difficult to believe how amazing her relationship with her 'I am' husband is! (They've gotten themselves registered so that makes them lawfully wedded – hence the 'I am' and not an 'I do' since the wedding reception and dinner has yet to take place.)

And darn it, I'm envious as hell!

He cooks. He washes her clothes. He mows the lawn. He doesn't complain when she forgets to make dinner. He gives her pedicures. (That includes toenail filing AND painting!!!) He massages her toes during train rides. And he smells them, too! ARGH!!!



Oh, and did I forget to mention?
He's an ang mor dude.


You know ah, I really think that we need more ang mor guys to go around lah. Chinese men are absolutely useless in this respect. In fact, they probably rank as one of the least romantic lovers in the world. If not the least. -_- You know what their problem is? Their problem is that they think that romance dies when the chase does.

Bodoh mia mereka semua.

You see ah... With the Indians, you have Shah Rukh Khan running through the fields and meadows while shaking his booty in his leading lady's direction. With the Malays, you have P. Ramlee singing his heart out from atop coconut trees. With the Westeners, you have the legendary Romeo & Juliet balcony serenade scene.

And with the Chinese?

Well, you have Wong Fei Hong and
Fong Sai Yuk kicking kung fu butt.


How lah like that??? No wonder our Chinese boys are stepping into the BGR market in the pathetic state of being so devoid of the ability to romance and express love lah! Haiyo!

So I got to thinking. Rather than painstakingly re-teach hopeless cases what they've already learnt over the years, rather than changing mindsets and worldviews, and rather than revising deeply ingrained cultural practices... why not just hunt down a good ang mor and marry him instead??? (See, I told you I was brilliant.)

It'll be so much easier, right? Plus, have you ever thought about the many, many, MANY plus points of marrying an ang mor leng chai? A lot, okayyy! Hear me out.

If you marry an ang mor...

You'll get to truly enjoy being romanced. In general, ang mors are waaay more romantic than Chinese men lah. They're more expressive. They'd go down on one knee for a proposal. And not just expect you to understand that you'd both get married some day. They'd buy you flowers for no reason at all. And they'd bring you out on official dates where you get to put on make-up and play dress up. And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

You'll get to be on the receiving end of nice words. Nice words that don't come out sounding wrong, that is. (I.e. "I thinking you is very bee-oo-tee-fool today. You thinking me also?") They're better in English. (Duh.) And they're usually good with words, sweet talking and the like. (Girls say they don't like it but in reality, they're all suckers for it.) Oh, and they've all got that to-die-for accent that always make girls go weak in the knees. And they sure as hell wouldn't end up calling me Pah-meh-lah. -_-

You wouldn't have to be the one pulling all the weight at home and in the kitchen. They'd cook. And bake. For you. Cina men want YOU to do the cooking and baking. They deem it your responsibility. They say they're putting food on the table while they work. That's not true. They put money in your hands and that's the end of it for them. YOU go to the grocers. YOU prepare the dishes. And YOU put the food on the table.

You'll be able to wear any shoe you want. 6-inch stilettos? No problem! 8-inch heels also can. Cos they're tall. They're all tall. And even if they're not that tall, they're still taller than our average Chinese boys. Sigh. Why so stunted ah, you all? Go do yourselves a favour and play more basketball can?

You won't have to wait till you're looking past your prime before you walk down the aisle. They tend to settle down earlier. (That blogger I told you about earlier? Well, she's my age. And her husband is one year younger than she is.) Don't know why that is, but I'd say it's a good thing. Why wait when you've already found The One? And if anything, you'd increase your chances of being able to see your grandkids and great-grandkids. (Mind you, I say that in all seriousness.) Which brings me to my next point.

You'll get to be proud parents of pretty kids with dark hair, fair skin and blue-green eyes. Or those with brown hair, fair skin and hazel eyes. Or those with black hair, freckled skin and deep set eyes. Aiyah, I could go on forever. A lot of options lah.

You know, I could go on forever. Really.

Listen to me and go for
the ang mor boy lah. Serious.

Stand outside Uplands, St. Christopher's or Dalat International, and wait. Sure got wan. Guarantee. And I think that it shouldn't be too difficult to snag an ang mor guy, either. I've heard that they have a thing for Asian women. =p

And just so you know, I didn't even really put a lot of thought into those points you saw, okay. They just came and I wrote them offhand. So that means that if I did put in the effort, there'd be a whole lot more comin' atcha from where those came from.

Anyhew, I'd kick in my extra neurons to add to that list right now but, unfortunately for you, even my back-up brain's all dried up already. It's been a long day and I'm pretty much running on empty. (See, I so nice. Tired also write long, long controversial post for you all to read.) Some other time, alrights? Nights!

p/s: Here's a friendly reminder to the cha bohs out there: girls, go do yourselves a favour and hunt down an ang mor boy. Tentu tak menyesal. Kalau dapat, mesti hantar kad jemputan kahwin, ya? =p

At The End Of The Day, We All Need Something To Look Forward To...

This is mine.

Go find your own.


Online Bookings

They make 'em all sound so easy.

"Enjoy the convenience of placing your booking right from your PC!" "24-hour availability!" "Instant access!" "Hassle-free reservations!" "Everything you need is now just a single click away!"

Backside lah. You bluff me
with stupid exclamation marks.
Don't think I don't know.

It's all false advertising, I tell you. False! Fake! Fallacious! They liiieeeee! It's actually NOT that easy. In fact, believe you me, it's a lot of hard work!

After an hour and fourty-five minutes of loading countless web pages, punching in numbers and calculating prices, managing hours, arranging transportation, keying in details, calling the necessary parties for confirmation, and squinting at my comp screen throughout the entire ordeal, I have to say that I am officially beat. My two online bookings (see how pathetic this is?) have gotten me all zapped out. Totally. I need to hit the sack. Now. Ciao.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

X 4D

I'm so terrible at responding to online messages that every time I do respond to messages or go online, my online buddies are taken by surprise. Naturally, this time was no different.



And then I stopped replying after that one-liner. HAHA. Not cos I didn't want to but cos I ended up getting distracted by other less fat hau conversations. (And by that I mean the sad monologues I call 'work'.) In my defense, he went offline so it's not entirely my fault for not having replied his chat. *grin*

Something good did come out of my non-existent response though. Haha. I kept this penniless dude from spending money buying useless pieces of paper that come with pathetic probabilities of winning any money back. Heh. See? I did my bit for the betterment of society... by not doing anything. I'm so proud of myself. *beams*

See A Penny? Pick It Up!

I did that.

While walking out to grab a quickie lunch down the road with the boys... and man (don't get me started on how weird that lunch was -_-), I found a 5 sen coin along the way. Haha.

I'm into cheap thrills. Literally. (It doesn't get any cheaper than 5 sen these days since 1 sen coins are no longer in circulation. -_-)

And then I got to thinking.
(You know, I should really stop thinking. It's turning out
to be very bad for my mental and emotional health.)

That's when I came up with this:

EDIT at 5:56PM on 23 July 2008: Ah Beng has this to add: "Good men are hard to find. Hard men are good to find." -_- Perv.

Single Child Syndrome

You know how the majority of single children always grow up deprived of meaningful friendships? Well, I think Ah Beng was a victim of that no-friends-to-play-with childhood. Heh heh.


Ah Beng: *picks up a MacBook 3-pin plug I had lying around and gushes overexcitedly* Eh! It looks like a rocket!!! *add sound effect of rocket taking off here*

Pam Song: *blank expression*

Ah Beng: *frowns indignantly* As a fellow single child, you should understand. Hmmph!



Not all single children are this 'off', okay. I promise.
I think I came out fairly normal. Comparatively. =p

Looking To Emo Dance

Sometimes I wish I could just dance to release all the pent up frustration I feel on the inside. Prance around and let my emotions out on the dance floor. Throw it all away. All that tension in my bones. But I can't. Not anymore. Sigh. Maybe that's why I'm always as frustrated as I am. At least before, I still had an outlet. But today... that outlet no longer exists for me.

And sure, I'm frustrated as all hell on the inside. But I'm not much into angsty dances. I'd very much prefer jazzed up Contemporary as opposed to Krumping. (Though the latter isn't that bad.) But right now, I'm so sold on slow, emo, super-feel Hip Hop. The kind that uses slow R&B. The kind that makes you cry when you watch it. The same kind that makes you dig deep into yourself when you dance it.

Chelsie and Mark dancing Hip Hop to Bleeding Love by Leona Lewis.

Katee and Joshua dancing Hip Hop
No Air by Jordin Sparks (Feat. Chris Brown).

Where can I take lessons for this sorta Hip Hop?

It's Not All Bad

Why? Cos I have a date at the end of the month. Wheee! So, I'm just going to look forward to that. *deep Zen breath* Yep, it's not all bad; it's not all bad; it's not all bad. *firm nod*

Victim Of Other Deceptions

Unless SPECIAL and DIFFERENT means SPASTIC and DISABLED, everything about this year being great has been a lie.

Victim Of Deception

Unless SPECIAL and DIFFERENT means SPASTIC and DISABLED, everything about this year has been a great big lie.

My Many Misses

I miss eating our Bak Kut Teh dinners in front of the telly. The ones where you eat all the bak and I eat most of the tau pok and tau ki. (I'm not a big fan of pork.)

I miss passing over my ewe chang to you whenever we have Hokkien Mee. (I do it cos I don't eat onions either.)

I miss the way you shake your spoon and whatever mee it is you have in your soup before feeding it to me. Even though you don't understand why I do it. But you do it anyways cos you know I always do it. (I'm not crazy. There's a reason to why I do it.)

I miss running down for Mega Pavilion hotdogs with you just cos we craved them so. Movie or no movie, we just wanted the hotdogs. With melted cheese on top.

I miss our Sunday morning Lor Mee breakfasts. And the way you place your hand on the small of my back while we cross the street to the coffee shop, from the illegal lot you always park at.

I miss your left hand holding mine while you drive. Too bad you're driving a manual now. I'd rather burn petrol than to not have my hand in yours. But I'm silly that way. Or at least I know you'd think I'm silly to think that way.

I miss racing around the neighbourhood we lived in with the Rexton top down. It was thrilling. I never thought you'd go for the idea but you did. And thinking back, I think the only reason you did it was cos it made me happy and estatic to feel the wind on my face.

I miss following you on your climbs up Penang Hill. And having you piggyback me just before we reach 46 cos you say that walking with me doesn't qualify as exercise.

I miss the times we went swimming at the pool downstairs. I remember how it took you a half hour just to get me into the feezing water. Haha. And I remember that you used to piggyback me in the water, too, cos I wanted to move around and play with water but was too lazy to move a muscle.

I miss the times you piggybacked me up and down the stairs of the old house. And even the time when you carried me on your shoulders cos we wondered if you'd be able to do it. Then we realised that with me way up there, we couldn't possibly get past the door frame. =p

I miss falling asleep beside you as you studied. But that was before we 'upgraded' to me falling asleep with my head on your lap while you studied with your textbook resting on my head. That way, we got to be closer to one another, I didn't have to sleep with the lights in my eyes, and you got to get your work done without having to worry that I wasn't getting enough rest or that I was bored.

I miss sitting next to you as you studied for your SPM. Doing nothing more than watch you study. And sure, at times I read. But... confession: I think the book read me more than I read it. =p

I miss watching back-to-back episodes of So You Think You Can Dance with you. On your lap. On your work chair. With my laptop propped in front of us and my external harddisk whirring by its side.

I miss the times you asked me to give you haircuts cos you didn't like what them Indian barbers did to your hair. I enjoyed it so much I didn't even mind the cleaning up after. I think it's cos it felt like you trusted me. That you believed in me. More than you believed in 'professionals' even. And that made me happy. That made it worth it. I'm sorry I cut you once, though. Not purposely wan. =(

I miss buying you Nike Tennis tees. Too bad they don't rock as hard these days. Am not too impressed with the current designs and lines so... no tees for you.

I miss doing laundry with you. Even when you drop my freshly laundered clothes on the sandy launderette cement floor. And even when you mix the colours of my clothes pegs. (I'm so anal with those things, you wouldn't believe me if I told you.)

I miss washing cars with you watching you wash cars. And taking pictures of you doing silly things while you're soaping Baby or any other car up.

I miss the time you blew soap bubbles at me just cos I said that it felt like a play-a-fool-at-the-patio day.

I miss the times you serenaded me with your guitar. I remember I even recorded it once. Just before you left for that continent that has kept you, to pursue your degree. You sang Sister Hazel's Your Winter cos you knew I loved the acoustic intro to the song. Yeah, you always amaze me with the many sounds you're able to create with six strings and a hollow block of womanly-shaped wood.

I miss the time you sang songs outside my bathroom door while I took my bath. Talking About A Revolution by Tracy Chapman was my favourite of that set of tunes. You sounded really nice singing it. I guess that's why I still remember it today. And gosh, it's already been 5 years since then.

I miss you being a 7-minute drive away. I miss you being in the same state as I am. I miss you being in the same country as I am. And I miss you being in the same continent as I am. Basically, I miss you.

The Wannabe Mind-Reader

Today, I received a surprise phone call from an instantly-can-click-but-hardly-ever-meet-up friend I haven't heard from in a looong time. During our neuron-frying mobile phone conversation, I decided to share some news with her. News I knew she'd been waiting for for a very long time. So I said...


Pam Song: Eh, babe. I tell you something ok? Dun tell anybody else yet ah. Nobody know yet wan.

Wannabe Mind-Reader: Oh! Oh! Lemmie guess! Lemmie guess! You... you... you got engaged!!!

Pam Song: Uh... no.

Wannabe Mind-Reader: Wait wait... Lemmie guess again! You... broke up with your boyfriend!!!

Pam Song: Uh... no.

Wannabe Mind-Reader: Oh. My. Goodness... Pamela Song, you got married!!!

Pam Song: Haiyo, woman! No lah! Stop guessing!


It's amazing how wannabe mind-readers think lah, I tell you. A-m-a-z-i-n-g. What I don't get is why every guess revolved around me and my relationship. Hello, you all think I have no life outside my relationship wan issit? Grrr.

"Lemmie guess! Lemmie guess! You... you... you got engaged!!!"

See??? The first guess had to do with her thinking that I've decided to take my relationship one step further and one step closer to the happily-ever-after I've always dreamed of. Well, nothing's happened. Yet. I haven't been proposed to. I don't have a ring on my finger (that's not from a pasar malam). And it doesn't look like it's happening anytime soon anyways so... no. Wrong guess.

"Lemmie guess again! You... broke up with your boyfriend!!!"

This second guess had to do with me chucking aside my current relationship and killing whatever thoughts of there being a happily-ever-after in the near future. Well, apparently we're still sporting that In A Relationship status on Friendster (so yesterday) and on Facebook (I should really start Facebooking more) so I'm going to say that this guess is pretty far out, too.

"Oh. My. Goodness... Pamela Song, you got married!!!"

And the third guess, as you can see, was of me having sealed the deal, finally reaching that happily-ever-after and bringing my relationship into a whole new dimension. *blink blink* Uh, say what? A bit off, right? My partner happens to be on an entirely different continent pursuing his dreams of a great career. While I'm here. Doing my own thing. So to this, I say, "Marriage schmarriage."


*shakes head*

All I can say is that this wannabe mind-reader needs a new job.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Liar On My Right

Ah Beng and I got into this conversation because, according to some people, my hair looks nice today. (Pfft. I'm offended. Like it isn't nice every other day!? Nonsense! -_-)

Ah Beng: That's because your hair is like *insert sound effect here* today.

Pam Song: Haha. Issit?

Ah Beng: Yeah. *pause* You know, I know my true friends are those who can understand what I say when I replace words with sound effects.

Pam Song: Awww. =)

Ah Beng: BUT... you're not quite there yet. You can't understand me when I speak with my mouth full.

Pam Song: -_-

Ah Beng: There are only two people who can do that. And I know they're keepers.

Pam Song: That means you don't think I'm a keeper. =(

Ah Beng: No... you're a keeper-ess! Gender differentiation! *grin*

Pam Song: *gives Ah Beng the wth face* Fine.

Sigh. Only friends let friends
lie to friends like friends do.

Stapler Fight!!!

Between Ah Beng and I.

(I'm just saying that cos it sounds better.
In actual fact, he tak kenal mati, wanna
syok sendiri come and cari pasal with me.)

He picked up a grey 'revolver' stapler (he insists that that's what that part of the stapler is called -_-) and started firing staple bullets at me. Non-existent staple bullets, that is.


And then he realised that
he wasn't doing me any harm.


Ah Beng: Eh! -_- I'm shooting blanks.


Pam Song: *bursts out laughing* HAHAHA. Yes yes, I'm sure you do.


Haha. So salah coming from a guy. So fail.

And then he tried doing it again with a pink 'revolver' stapler and after one bullet came out... it went blank again. BWAHAHAHAHA. Story of his life lah. Seriously. Damn sad case wan. =p

Monday, July 21, 2008

No Time For Words

...only pictures.

This lot came in today.

And it's only Monday.


YouTube Find Of The Day Night

MariƩ Digby strikes again.
And from Allentown PA, this time.
(That place looks gorgeous, btw!)

This video has been up since 7 July 2008. (Forgive me, I'm a YouTube video laggard. Pathetic, I know.) And I have to say that after listening to it (once), I decided that I really like this new original song of hers.


If you didn't catch the ending of that video, you should. It's cute. =)

Artist: MariƩ Digby
Song Title: Swoon

Honey, I can't spell it out for you
This is far beyond a mismatch of our personalities
You insist that life should always be about saving and simplicity
But what a bore that sounds to me

And yet (oh) you keep on crawling back into my mind
And (oh) lately I'm feeling things that I just can't deny

I should know by now this is bound to get messy
But I don't care, no, I don't care

Cause you make me swoon
Butterflies, dizzy head, flutter heartbeats
You make me swoon
Shaky hands, stuttered words – what is happening?
I never thought that you would be the one
To make me swoon
To make me swoon

Now darling, I know it's safe for me to say
That we don't always see eye to eye but that's what I like about you
I will be the girl to set you free
Help you put your mind at ease and you'll hold steady ground for me

I should know by now this is bound to get messy
But I don't care, no, I don't care

Cause you make me swoon
Butterflies, dizzy head, flutter heartbeats
You make me swoon
Shaky hands, stuttered words – what is happening?
You make me swoon

I Keep Fainting. Over And Over And Over Again.

Of late, I find my growing collection
of comment notification emails
very overwhelming. Like, totally.


They're never-ending wan! And I'm dead serious when I say that. As soon as I find time to reply any (I always reply comments... uh, unless things get too sensitive =p), they come streaming in again. One after another, after yet another! See also I scared. The palm-sweat-hand-shake-mouth-dry kind of scared summore. Dun play play. Hardcore stuff, okay, this wan.

16 comments from 1 comment leaver
in just 1 hour and 5 minutes.

See? Never bluff you wan.

Currently, I have about 20 posts with active comments. I think. More or less lah. I really can't keep track of all of them anymore. (And that's AFTER I decided to stop responding to some talk-nonsense-until-no-meaning-already conversations.) Faint or not, I ask you??? I think I need to hire an official a cheap comment replier to respond to comments on my behalf already lah. -_-

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Of Colours And Of Blood

Black and blue.
Your blood.
They have it.

Pink and white.
Also your blood.
They seem to have it, too.

You and I.
Battered and bloodied.
Why don't we have it?

Spelling Change

By doing the math (and giving myself unnecessary
uncontrollable panic attacks while I'm at it -_-).

PLACE OF WORK: + Copywriter - McCann Erickson


COMPANY ON VACATION: - Boyfriend + Family

ACTIVITY: + Vacation - Dance

EVENT ATTENDING: + Company Trip - Emerge '08

PERCEPTION/WORLDVIEW: + Meaning + Thoughts

ME: + Heart + Mind


Change so doesn't fly with me.

*sighs again*

We're barely seven months into 2008 and I've already hit exceeded my bad luck quota for the year. On a whole, it's just not been a very good year for me lah, you know? Seriously damn suey after Chinese New Year '08 came along and rolled by – oblivious to the fact that it messed up my life's default setting of 0k-ok feng shui as it did.

Since then – March, April, May, June, July – every following month has just been a series of non-stop, never-ending mental, emotional and psychological rollercoaster rides for me. And the number of things I've had to deal with in the timeframe I was served has got me all tired out. I've reached my limit. I'm drained. Empty. (Hence the emo-ness of late, I suppose. Doesn't help that I'm PMS-ing, too. -_-)

Sometimes, I feel like reaching past my ribcage and saving my heart from the confines of my chest. In and out. Quick and painless. I think hope. Whatever the case, I'll bet it'd hurt a lot less than when it's forced to beat in rhythms that are out of sync with the rest of me. I.e. my brain. Then, I start feeling like my brains need recuing, too! And it's at this point that I see myself freeing my brains from the inside of my skull. With an ice-cream scoop. A nice, shiny, metal, vanilla-ice-cream-covered ice-cream scoop.

*blink blink*

I'm sick, aren't I?


I blame Change (and those blasted women hormones) for this wonky mood I've been in and out of the last couple of weeks. It's at times like these that I wish I could just up and run away. Forget everything. Leave it all behind. Escape to a foreign land. Or a deserted mountain top. And then stay put while I wait out the swings. Sigh. If I could, I would. And without a second thought or a glance backwards, too.

But I can't. Because there's nowhere to go.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Has It Really Been 25 Years Already?

My parents have been married for 25 years. TWENTY-FIVE YEARS. That's more time than the sum of my years, man! (Duh. No dinner-before-breakfast nonsense, thankyouverymuch.)

And... this is why it didn't take me long to decide that no matter how busy I was or how little time I had (or even how emo I was), I just had to design a new header to specially commemorate their silver anniversary.

That's them on the left in the silver frame. =)

Those two people you see make the only couple I know who have never had a single fight in their time together. Disagreements, yes. But that's as far as it goes. (I haven't even seen these disagreements myself, to tell you the truth. I'm only assuming that since they're two separate individuals, the are bound to be times when things aren't always smooth sailing.) No raised voices, no pouting, no cussing or swearing. No I-don't-want-to-friend-you-anymore, no cold wars, no jelingan mauts.

Pretty cool for a 25-year-old marriage, huh?
(27 years if you include the whole dating process.)

Growing up in my home was an amazing experience. (One I wouldn't think twice about stepping back into, actually.) It was happy, very peaceful (I've always heard my friends speak of how terrible it can be when parents argue) and loving. I have truly been blessed to have had them as my personal mentors in love and life (amongst other things, of course).

So, before I tear and all that...
it's out with this one *points below*
for the time being, alrights?

Why emo when you can celebrate? =)

Bad Move

I hate it when people PRETEND to know what they're doing, talk a lot of SHIT while conning the asses off the people they deal with (each and every time), and in actual fact know NOTHING about the subject they claim to be gods in. Go eat shit and die lah.

Friday, July 18, 2008

From Me To The Sum Of Me (And Him)

Dear Body,

I need this pain to stop. It's getting in the way of me doing the things I do. It's slowing me down. And really now... isn't the ear problem enough? I already hate the left side of my pillow. Don't make me start hating staircases, too, okay?

Make this pain S-T-O-P. Deal? (And don't forget that ear pain, too, while you're at it. Thank you! =p)



Dear Heart,

I need you to stop aching. I need you to start focusing on the things that matter. Like beating. At a steady pace. Or at least at as steady a pace as it gets for you. (I know you love your funky beats.)

I need you to be here where I am. Cos as it is, it already feels to me like I'm going it alone. I don't want to make those big, important decisions without you. And I shouldn't have to. Come back. Please?



Dear Head,

Thank goodness you're here. It's always nice when you're around. Thing is (and I'm telling you this because I love you), you need to stop thinking so much and so hard about so many things that matter so little. Take a chill pill and relax those neurons for a bit.

Oh, and it'd help if you stopped emo-ing for awhile, too. It's messing with Body and Heart big time. Both aren't behaving as they should and, well, that's bad. Plus... to be honest with you, this is pretty bad timing to be playing fire with those two. I can't afford a System Crash at the mo.

Let's go glass-half-full for now, okay?



Dear God,

I need a sign.
And I'm sorry to be a pain and rush you but uh... now, can?

*puppy dog eyes*


p/s: Again, I am so so sorry for rushing you. I'll make it up to You, okay? I sing loud loud in church this Sunday. Promise.


EDIT at 12:15AM on 19 July 2008: I got my sign! Indeed my God is AWESOME! (And He has very quick response time, too! I only waited 20 minutes for word to arrive.)

EDIT at 1:19AM on 19 July 2008: Whoa. I got another sign!!! Two signs in one night? Was the second one a confirmation? Yeah, I'm willing to believe that it was! (Actually, I really think it's a confirmation. After the first sign, the thought of that sign being a mere coincidence did pop into my head. -_- I'm still human after all. And I have my share of doubts and fears. He quelled them, though. *smiles*)

Thursday, July 17, 2008

I Need To Remember That...

He loves me.
Even when I'm emo-ing.

Final Live Update

I'm going to answer my own question (the question's in the last 'floating' paragraph of the post that came before this one) with what seems to be my favourite answer to 'foncusing' things these days:


Or maybe I do. But I just don't want to face whatever it is I'm avoiding. Maybe that's why I've become the laundry-deprived, broom-grabbing woman I am. Or maybe it's cos my hormones are crazy-whacked right now. Maybe that's why I'm tearing myself up on the inside with ridiculous thoughts about insignificant things.

Argh! All this pent up frustration is killing me!

I need to quell my nerves. Tame my heartbeat. But how??? I wonder if it's because of the meds I'm on. Or maybe it's just my tired mind playing tricks on me. Taunting me. Haunting me.


I wish I could do my laundry. =(

Live Follow-Up Update

I didn't get to do my laundry.
There wasn't any drying space left.


So I settled for the next best house chore
I could find: sweeping.

I grabbed the broom (along with that gross-looking thing The Housemate fondly refers to as our dustpan *gag*). And I swept my room like I never swept it before. But it didn't do the trick. I still felt like crap. So, I took it upon myself to sweep the rest of the house, too. Took me a little over a half hour. But I still didn't feel okay after.

Something's not right.
I'm finicky. Jumpy. On edge.
And very restless. Why?

Live Update

I feel like washing clothes right now.
Don't ask me why. Cos I dunno why also.
Am just suddenly very in the mood for some laundry time.

Winning Question Of The Week

Was doing work (I WAS! Serious!) when a balled up paper bomb flew into The Cu•bi•cle from The Other Side. Curious, I reached across my desk and curled my fingers around the tiny ball of crumpled paper. Paper that I assumed was rough paper (read: a bad brief) before it turned into written ammo. My fingers worked to de-ball the paper. And then I looked down and saw this:


I know that writing.

And that colleague obviously needs
more work on his plate.

I Must Be SAD To Be GREAT!

It's been awhile since I laid my hands on a musical instrument.
(One-off strums on TimTam's acoustic don't count.)

And I have to say that sometimes, I wonder if I still remember anything my 8 years of lessons taught me. Yep, you read it right. I had my fair share of piano lessons for awhile when I was a kid. (Terrer or not?) Probably learned a grand total of 2 songs in my 8 years of classes, though. Haha. My mother fed up. And finally give up on me altogether. Sold my piano to the secondhand guys last year. -_-

Thing is, I somehow blogged hopped into a-stranger-named-Scott's blog today and what he said about songwriting made me pause to think. His theory is this: the best songwriters are the ones who are most depressed.

Click here to read from source.

And after some thought,
I have to say that I think it's true!

Just a number of songwriters who never fail to win me over with their lovey-dovey, I-miss-you-you-miss-me, emo-depresso, super-heartache, cut-me-and-leave-me-to-bleed songs. =p

And I find that what's true in celebrity world is true in my reality, too! I've only completed two songs in my 23+ years of living (pathetic, I know) and both songs were penned in just two nights – one song a night, probably 2 weeks apart. Yes, they were spur-of-the-moment tracks. =p

Oh well, what can I say? I was super emotionally drained and pretty much all tired out with the situation I was in at that point in time. So, while some people prefer to feign death by mock-slashing wrists in soapy bathtubs (*rolls eyes* to me, suicide's the attention-whorish Drama Queen's way out of anything that doesn't fly with them), I wreck travel guitars with salty tears and ceaseless strumming. Haha.

So, I guess there's some truth
in Scott the Stranger's words, eh?

"It all bores down to who can stay the saddest, longest."

Hmmm. Perhaps it does.

p/s: Keith Urban became a daddy on 7 July 2008 (Monday). His daughter's name is Sunday Rose Kidman Urban. Funny name for a Monday child. =p


Click here to visit Scott the Stranger's blog – Facts of Life 101.

He's damn random. And his posts are crazy sporadic. But he's got some pretty interesting ideas (read: good tips) on fooling your boss at the workplace so you might wanna check that out while you're in Facts of Life 101.

His wit and dry humour makes up for the lack of direction and post consistency so you shouldn't have much to worry about while trudging through foreign cyber territory. =p Shan't tell you too much about it here, though. I think I give this fella enough time in the spotlight on Tinki Talks di. Don't be lazy lah. Go check his blog out yourself. *click*

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Time Heals All Wounds. I Think.

People say that Time heals all wounds.

I say they're all liars. Because nothing really heals. We just get better at hiding our pain from the people around us as time passes. We get better at hiding all that stuff from ourselves, too. Stuff we don't want to remember; stuff we want to forget – we hide 'em all. We conceal our pain and numb every other tender spot. Just because it takes away the ache. And even if it's just for a little awhile, we'll take it. Because a little while's better than none at all.

People say that Time heals all wounds.

I say, "Darn right, it does." Otherwise, it'd be a pretty sad life for us, don't you think? Collecting hurts, accumulating insults, and growing our backseat mount of painful memories as the years go by. Seeing the molehill we first started out with turn into a mountain before our very eyes. I can't live with the possibility of this being true. Because if it is, then it's pretty much a guarantee that we'll end up suffering all the way to our graves. Lugging nothing but our heavy bag of dampened spirits and many sorrows behind us.

Time has to heal all wounds. It has to.

Because if it doesn't, then I don't know
what Tomorrow's for anymore.

Are You A Boring Office Person?

Don't know? Aren't sure?
Well, find out today!

According to The Great Career Judge-rer – more fondly referred to as Ah Beng here in Tinki Land – being in any one of the two career paths-slash-industries-slash-lines we're about to mention pretty much guarantees that you've got yourself front row seats to a lifetime of career boredom. Tee hee.

Pam Song: *turns to ask Ah Beng while replying a comment from a previous post* Hey, what's the other one ah?

Ah Beng: What other one?

Pam Song: There's EY, PwC, Deloitte... hmmm, and? I can't remember the last one right now. My mind's blank. There's only one more. You can remember?

Ah Beng: Oh. Hmmm. Deloitte I know lah. It's a computer company.

Pam Song: @_@ Hello!? Computer??? It's an accounting firm lah.

Ah Beng: Same lah! All these boring office people. All the same!

*rolls eyes*

So blardee kiasu.

Langgar tiang, kepala pecah, darah melimpah
already still dun wanna admit salah. Ish ish.

p/s: The KPMG's the firm I left out when I was naming the Big Four.

Introducing Wendy's Most Recent Competitor

These days, it's all about branding.


Brand Team Boy: Eh, where you all go eat lunch just now?

Ah Beng: We go Jaya 1.

Brand Team Boy: Ahhh. Eat where?

Pam Song: Wendy's.

Brand Team Boy: Everybody go Jaya 1 sure makan Wendy's huh?

Pam Song: Not great lah, actually.

Ah Beng: Yeah, I didn't quite like it either. I still prefer my McDonald's.

Brand Team Boy: Ya, I think Carlsberg also better.

Pam Song & Ah Beng: o_O

Pam Song: What he talking about lah?

Brand Team Boy: *blink blink* Oh wait! Sorry sorry. I meant Carl's Junior. Hee hee.

Pam Song & Ah Beng: -_-

Pam Song: It's only Wednesday and he's already thinking of alcohol.


See? Told you I work with brilliant people. Brilliant advertising people. Brilliant advertising brand team people. B-r-i-l-l-i-a-n-t.