the entry about the race-spectating insurgent

in light of what has happened recently, one would have expected yours truly to stay indoors, employ prophylactic measures and rest the week away. but as much as i have been chastised by my family and friends alike for a bad judgement call which resulted in a minor head trauma, stitches and all, i am all up and dandy the day after to attend the annual f1 singapore grand prix.

sop's for the race in question

i balked when i arrived at the scene. the entire atmosphere was buzzing with excitement, though the photos i took showed otherwise. there was a chattering buzz from the onlookers, a gig performing at a nearby stage, and vendors of the relative race teams hawking their paraphernalia to dizzying walker-bys. i saw one too many pot-bellied caucasians guzzling down ice-cold beer, and could only stare in hideous envy; i was instructed not to touch alcohol in the midst of my recovery.

anyhows, the bleachers we (ray and i) were allocated to gave us a grand view of the automobiles approaching us from a sharp bend and straight through right in front of us. surely there could be no better of a spectacle than this, i thought to myself.

bleachers of yellow and red

apparently, the race turned out to be nothing more than seeing the automobiles zip past us from right under our noses and disappear into the distant the very next micro-second. this happened for a couple of times and then, the race was over. i gnashed my teeth and swore, pumping my fists in the air. that gesture somehow made people look at me, as though i knew a thing or two about the entire state of affairs. in honest fact, i couldn't comprehend a single bit the intrinsics of the race and was absolutely clueless what was going on. i couldn't tell one car apart from the next. all i knew was that i experienced the fleeting reverberations throughout my body every time the race cars bolted past us it felt like a pulsating vibrator.

some other interesting pictures like the one below: this fellow homo-sapien doesn't seem to understand the concept of velvet ropes. he plumped himself comfortably onto the couch next to all the mannequins and was visibly nonchalant to everyone else staring at him.

looks like he's gonna keel over any minute

someone give him a wedgie already!

at the end of the day, lewis hamilton won. i made it out alive, with my throbbing wound carefully concealed in a cap slanted at a precise angle, but none the wiser about the workings of a grand prix race. i couldn't wait to get back home. viva la hovel!

the following are snippets i caught on tv, the irrepressible lindsay lohan hosting the f1's, beyonce and no doubt upping the chic factor with their concerts.

gwen shows who's the queen

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the entry marches on

reservist has loomed on me; doomsday. every other day for four straight weeks, i am sent to the cursed parade square at safti military instituate, marching on for endless hours under the sweltering sun, with "dig in", "watch your front"-esque commands constantly barked at us by the paunchy regiment sergeant major wielding his willowy peystick (the juxtaposition of it all).

it's all in a day's work (well, 15 to be exact, including the rehearsals i have to sit through) for the saf day parade, a "highlight in the military calendar and serves as a reminder of the importance of national defence". bah, i say. bs! highlight this though: the numerous fainting spells spotted in the regiment wings. soldiers were falling out of the parade rehearsals, both young and curmudgeonly, dropping like flies due to the immense heat, no thanks to the afternoon sun. the fool that i am, refused to and soldiered on, through gritting teeth, and thus endured a 12-hour march that starts from 7 every morn'. hopefully i won't pass out due to over-exhaustion or some of my neighbouring comrade's feta-smelling body odour. hence, this is a plea from those who, like me, have perfectly functioning olfactory systems, to those who exacerbates the pungent air situation: shove a sweat stick under those pits!

when this entire pervy ordeal has been squared away, i vow never to don on the uniform ever. all i need now is a jolly-good excuse that could extricate me from the yearly callbacks. think, des, think!

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the entry that zouked me out

so the body feels good, but if it could express itself somehow, it certainly would not be beneath hurling foul-sounding epithets at me. frankly, i have been over-stressing my body, at various parties, that is. when it came to working, however, i'd skim right through it like the advertisements section of a magazine. not a good sign at all. i definitely would need a good rubdown or some traditional tui na after all the unadulterated hardcore partying and perhaps (perhaps?) do my utmost to get back to work after that.

zouked out much, anyone?

for that reason, i shall swear upon my latest dkny mules acquisition that zoukout 2008 shall be the last and final party of the year for me in singapore. may mildew and noxious fumes wreak havoc on them should i fail to live up to my promise. ergo, with that vow in mind, and a couple bottles of alcohol in tow, the usual suspects camped out at siloso beach resort whilst awaiting the party du jour's kick-off.

our theme in mind was clashing neon, so basically it was cloaking oneself in multi-colored fabric that looked out of place from one another. did we succeed? you make the verdict.

val, daryl and duncan doing a warmup pose for the camera.

black-meets-white: benjamin and me.

the whole gin gang minus two.

another group shot, but still short of the man behind the camera, ben.

gratifyingly, amidst all the hustle and bustle, we did not forget to celebrate duncan's birthday, who's now a full bloom twenty-somethinger. unfortunately, the hotel staff burst our bubbles when they prematurely knocked on our doors with the cake and balloon when not everyone had arrived yet. still, it was a sweet success seeing duncan's shocked expression when he was greeted with our almost-sabotaged surprise.

the birthday boy,

 who definitely looked way more surprised than what this photo displayed.

a confetti gun meant for his birthday, brought outdoors in the end.

on to partying!! and more pics...

dj sasha, in my opinion, was the best. 

his follow up act, dj above and beyond, was nowhere where what his moniker promised.

the crowd agrees, lapping up every sasha ditty.

me and jem: our only shot together. >.<

the venue was a dizzying, sweltering moshpit of people that the tops had to go eventually...

bumping into my batch girl from SQ, jasmine...

... and her boyfriend, joson, who seems a tad way too gone.

seriously, this guys needs a therapist.

partying until the sun rose.

one word to describe zouk out 2008: supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

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the entry babbling techno-geek

consider this: what do you get when you have a warehouse-like event, housing a phantasmagorical gamut of vendors, peddling the latest gadgetry and computer peripherals over the weekend? the answer: throngs of geeky crowds that finally surface the earth's epidermal layer, in a bid to lay their grabby hands on the most advanced technology to outwit, outplay and outlast fellow geekaways.

unfettered by the hordes which could only be classified under nerd-dom, i went against my better instincts and trudged my way to comex, singapore's greatest computer fair. though, i am not sure if it's the largest computer showing around anymore, because every other month, there's some other computer exhibition boasting itself to be the incumbent in town. there's the pc show, then sitex and now comex. perhaps dumex might come around soon too? i'm just confused with the differences between these trade fairs. but then again, it's not my biggest concern.

anyways, arriving at the doors was a huge, glitzy affair. greeted by many vendor reps that lined the aisles as i walked past, it was almost a red-carpet affair. except, instead of flashy light bulbs, i was overwhelmed by flyers shoved into my hands; whereupon it was supposedly a red-carpet, it's now just a passage littered with unwanted paper paraphernalia. so much for daydreaming.

pictures! got myelf a nifty sound system from harmon/kardon and bought an hewlett-packard tablet for my dad. so, another computer victim bites the dust. any other victims out there?

p.s. just a shout out to auggie. thanks for being porter of the day. and theresa too. for just being there.

the non-compromising sleek, black tablet looks better than my macbook air already.

not the latest offering, but this set of speaks were at a grabby discount. how could i resist?

my two purchases of the day. chummy pair, aren't they?

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