Toilet Seats

Posted on May 12, 2010 by Zareth

I’ve got a slight flu.

And it’s winter in Sydney.

A flu during winter. What the fuck, man. Talk about a bad timing.

And I’ve got a 2000 words essay due on Friday. Talk about a worse timing.

A friend told me to get an assignment extension. But I don’t want to, since this essay is the last essay for the semester. So I’m just going nurse myself with doses of hot, herbal tea and bash through the assignment.

Oh, and if you’ve seen my reading list (if you even bother looking at it), you should see that I’ve added Neil Gaiman’s “Sandman”. I bought the hardcover graphic novel (collectors’ item!) from Kinokuniya a few weeks ago for less than 100 bucks. I was lucky that my friend (and future housemate) informed me that Kinokuniya was having a 20% sales on all comics, manga and graphic novels. So that weekend, on the last day of the sales, my two future housemates and I headed down to Kino and I bought the “Sandman”.

I’ve been wanting to read the “Sandman” since February, when I saw the first chapter on DC Vertigo’s website. Since then, I was hooked. I couldn’t buy it in Singapore because I didn’t have the time. I found one in Borders at Bondi Junction, but it was 200 over fucking bucks. Luckily, Kinokuniya was selling at a much cheaper rate, and with the discount, I got it for around $99.

I finished the graphic novel in two days. It was fucking awesome. ‘Nuff said. Now I’m saving up another hundred bucks to buy the second volume.

Anyway, enough digressions. This post is about toilet seats.

That’s right, toilet seats.

Why a post on toilet seats? Well, hear me out.

Last weekend, on a Saturday, after a fruitful house inspection, my future housemate (let’s call her Housemate Uno) was hanging around in my studio. The other future housemate (Housemate Dos) went back to her studio to take a nap. Actually, HM Dos is pretty much out of the picture at this point. So we’ll concentrate on HM Uno and I.

HM Uno wanted some movies to keep herself entertained, so I showed her some movies that I had. Stuffs like Trainspotting (she kept insisting it was transporting just to irritate me), Crank, Crank: High Voltage, Chasing Amy, Requiem for a Dream and one or two other movies that I can’t remember.

(Taken from The Tizona Group)

(Taken from FirstShowing.Net)

(Taken from Geek On Film)

(Taken from Sexuality & Love in the Arts)

(Taken from Leif-ism…)

Yeah, I’m just padding this post with movie posters.

Anyway, I was burning the movies onto some blank DVDs when HM Uno told me that she needed to use my bathroom.

“Go ahead,” I told her, my eyes still glued to the screen.

I was aimlessly surfing the Internet when HM Uno spoke to me from the toilet. I live in a pretty small studio, so the toilet is just right behind my desk.

“Hey, Zareth,” she said, “when we move into a new house, we need another house rule: the toilet seats need to be down.”

“What?” I asked. I heard her the first time, but I just wanted to make sure that I heard correctly.

“The toilet seats need to be down.”

“No,” came my swift reply.

“But, why?” she asked. She was still in the toilet.

Hmmm, I needed to come with a good explanation.

“Do you know how hard it is to pee with the toilet seat narrowing the hole?” There, straightforward answer.

I actually wanted to elaborate more: like how it was not that hard to pee with the toilet seat down, just that when the flow of the pee starts decreasing, guys have to start shuffling forward to keep the stream aimed into the toilet bowl. Then when we’re shaking out the few drops trapped in our urethra, specks of urine splatter onto the toilet seats, and then girls accuse us of not aiming properly.

It’s not like we want to do territorial marking on the toilet seats. And I do find urine on toilet seats fucking disgusting. Yes, I do use the toilet seat, that’s when I’m taking a satisfying dump. But seriously, leave the toilet seat up.

Anyway, I just gave a short answer at that time because it was appropriate for the situation at that time, and I was too tired to drag out a minor argument.

“Well,” replied HM Uno, “you can lift up the toilet seat when you need to pee.”

I shot back with an overused sentence: “Well, you can put down the toilet seat if you need to use it.”

HM Uno laughed and said something along the lines about how there are two girls (her and HM Dos) in the house and so majority wins.

Fuck, sometimes I hate majority vote when I’m in the minority.

But HM Dos still have no idea about this new house rule. So I still have a chance to block this rule.

I’ll leave the toilet seat down if HM Uno and Dos pay for this:

(Taken from Dvice)

A heated toilet seat. Otherwise, once HM Uno, Dos and I move in together, it’ll be the start of the toilet seat wars.

P.S. I realized in one of my sentence, I said: ” … put down the toilet seat.” I just realized how hilarious I found this grammatically incorrect sentence is, like I’m going to euthanize a toilet seat.

OI!!

Posted on April 15, 2010 by Zareth

I haven’t been blogging for a long, long, long time.

Been busy.

Very busy.

This is not a proper post. It is more of a filler.

Will promise to update more. Later.

Now, on to the topic at hand and why this entry’s title is called “OI!”.

That word is not some Spanish or Italian greeting. It’s an onomatopoeia. Its nearest equivalent is “Hey!”, but said in a tone of annoyance and/or surprise.

The reason why I called this entry “OI!” is simple.

I was eating cup noodles, plowing through research for my Art History essay on Surrealism when I decided to check out Ranga’s blog. Since that guy quit his job, he has been happily bumming around, and which means he has a lot of time to update his blog with random rants. Something that he does on a near daily basis now.

So I was reading one of his entries when I came across this:

Nah beh, KNNCCB.

I never abandon my terrapins, okay! And it’s terrapins! Not tortoises! They are two different species. They are not mutually inclusive!

I set them free! Like the movie, Free Willy, I set them free! I released them into a lake, which was filled with other terrapins! They had friends!

I did that because my tank was too small to accommodate three large terrapins! And it’s akin to torture if I continue to keep them!

I’m innocent!

Okay, enough shouting.

I made my point.

At least I’m not like Ranga, who made a porn video based on his two rabbits and posted it onto Youtube. That pervert.

____________________________________________

Talking about Free Willy, here’s the soundtrack:

Timetable or How Tuesday Fucked Me

Posted on February 26, 2010 by Zareth

I got my timetable online a week ago.

When I first saw it, I was happy, because I got a four-day week schedule:

Awesome. No classes on Friday!

Until I saw Tuesday.

What the….

3 Tutorials and 2 lectures.

This is madness.

I know, I know, I only have 13 hours of classes a week. By right (or privilege), I should be happy. I mean, I have friends in Singapore who have 35 hours of classes a week and my brother is one of them too.

But I’m an Art student, not a Premed, not an Engineering or a Science student. I thrive on having as few classes as possible.

I’m not even complaining about the number of hours. I had 13 hours of classes last semester. So having 13 hours of classes this semester is nothing new.

But having 3 tutorials and 2 lectures? All in one day? With only two hours break in between?

Damn it, I’ll die from information overload.

And to add further insult, I have a 9am tutorial on Wednesday.

Oh, boy. I had experienced a 9am tutorial on Wednesday last semester. It was a World Politics tutorial. Knowing my inability to wake up in time and subsequently missing half my tutorials (I still passed, I think my tutor went easy on me), I decided that enough was enough. No more 9am tutorials or lectures for me.

So today, I went down to school to change my timetable. I did it last semester and it was pretty easy. Just go down to a computer lab, talk to one of the student advisors, tell them your problem, do some rescheduling and viola! timetable of your dream.

I planned out my rescheduling first. After all, when it comes to full time slacking, matters like this can’t be done half-assed. It needs proper planning and strategy. So I logged onto the university’s central timetable, checked out all the available timings for tutorials and lectures, made notes and chose which classes I wanted to reschedule.

Done.

I was actually planning to spread out my classes over 5 days. But after last semester’s experience, I decided against it. Because most of my classes was in the middle of the day (I cannot wake up early) and I couldn’t do anything much while waiting for classes to start, except to wait for classes to start. So it was like back in the air force, “rush to wait, wait to rush”. I spend 5 days waiting for classes to start. I had enough. I wanted at least one day free and that would be Friday.

This was last semester timetable:

This is an old one. I changed my English tutorial from 6pm Wednesday to 2pm Tuesday. I hate attending classes in the evening. That is another reason why I didn’t like this semester timetable. I have two Philosophy lectures at 6pm on Tuesday and Thursday. FUCK!

Anyway, I went down to the computer lab and met up with one of the student advisors. He was an old man with a shock of neat, trimmed hair. Like a professor. Or a genial, old grandfather.

“So, what’s the problem here?” Student advisor asked.

“Well, I want to change my Philosophy tutorial from 4pm Tuesday to 1pm Thursday.”

“Hmm, ok.”

Mr. White Hair Man (he did have the most brilliant white hair I ever seen) turned to his computer and started checking out the class attendance for Philosophy tutorials on 1pm Thursday.

“I’m sorry, but they are all full.”

“What….” I stuttered.

“Well, you can have a 9am tutorial on Thursday or a 5pm tutorial. But the rest of the timing, all filled up.”

I was lost for words, so I made an useless and obvious remark: “But… then, that’s the earliest and latest timings of the tutorials….”

“Okay,” I sighed, “How about changing my Art History tutorial from 5pm Tuesday to 4pm Wednesday?”

Mr. White Hair went through the class attendance record for Art History.

“Sorry, all the 4pm tutorials on Wednesday are full.”

“What… the…”

I could feel the walls of my slackerdom crashing on me. I needed to do some damage control.

“Okay,” a tinge of desperation creeping into my voice, “can I change my Philosophy lecture from 6pm Tuesday to 3pm Tuesday?”

Mr. White Hair raised an eyebrow. Doing that would mean having only an hour break. But damn it, I will not have a 6pm class. He went through the attendance again and said:

“Sorry, the classes are full”

I anticipated that sentence from him. I saw from the computer screen that under the remarks section, that time period was filled up.

I covered my face and let out a low groan: “Man……”

“Okay,” more damage control, “how about changing my 9am Psych tutorial to 2pm on Wednesday.

I heard more clicking of the mouse and another:

“Sorry, all filled up too.”

By now, I couldn’t say a single word. I just stared at the screen, shell-shocked.

“You know,” Mr. White Hair said, “these classes are very popular.”

Of course they are, these are afternoon classes, not too early, not too late. Everyone wanted those. And the courses I’m taking are some of the more popular ones too, so it explains why there are such a great number of students fighting for such few available number of classes.

I had one last chance. This better work.

“Okay, could I change my Philosophy lecture from 6pm Thursday to 11am Thursday?”

More clicking of the mouse.

I stared at the screen, willing that the class could accommodate me. Willing and hoping that at least, I would not have to attend a 6pm class.

“Sorry, it’s filled up too.”

The fuck.

I slowly tore my gaze from the screen and looked at my timetable, thinking how fucked I was for Tuesday. Thinking how Tuesday was going to fuck my head, thinking how dead I was when I had essays, deadlines and discussions piling up on the same day. Thinking how I was going to survive that one day of mind fuckery.

Mr. White Hair broke through my thoughts.

“You know, you can schedule some of your classes to Friday.”

I looked at him, the one guy who was the answer to my dilemma. The one guy whom my whole semester schedule depended on. The one guy who was to be my saviour but yet failed me, no us, because of the system.

Mr. White Hair stared at my desperate face with a mixture of amusement and pity clashing across his face. This guy couldn’t decide whether to feel amuse at my so-called plight or to empathize with me.

If I were he, I would feel the same way too. A student trying to wiggle out of some non-desperate situation. But what the hell does he knows? I don’t want my current timetable. I want changes.

The thought of moving some classes to Friday sounded so good, so tempting. It was so easy. All I needed to do was to give the go ahead, pointed out which classes I wanted to reschedule and Mr. White Hair would do it in a matter of seconds.

It was so easy. Just like that, I wouldn’t have to face 5 hours of brain damage on Tuesday.

“No, Zareth, don’t do it,” a figment of myself floated in front of me, “remember what you promised yourself. You wanted Friday free. You shall have Friday free. You SHOULD have Friday free. Just for one day, endure 5 hours of classes. At least you have the whole Friday off.”

Mr. White Hair stared at me, impatience forming on his face. The line of students outside the lab increasing like a caterpillar engorging itself on its last meal.

I looked at Mr. White Hair. I looked at my timetable. I looked at the computer screen. I had to make a decision. And I needed to do it now.

“Okay,” that would be my last okay, “I think, I’ll just leave my timetable as it is.”

Mr. White Hair smiled.

“You know,” he said, “don’t try to change your timetable by yourself. You might end up with something you don’t like.”

At that point, I thought he was advising me. Now I realized that he thought I did some changes myself but got some messed up timetable. But I didn’t. The system gave me this fucked up timetable. I didn’t catch his hint so I just said, “yeah, I know.”

“Thanks for helping me,” I said, even though he barely helped me out.

“You’re welcome.”

I went out of the computer lab, still dazed by the experience, by the thought of Tuesday. As I stood outside, watching students, friends, staffs and security personnel enjoying themselves with the O-Week festive on Eastern Avenue, I felt a sense of injustice, a feeling of hopeless rage boiling in me, a hurt that crawled towards my throat and clung there, refusing to let go.

Last semester, it was so easy to change my classes. Why not this time?

I felt angry. But mostly I felt numb and hopeless.

Then something inside me snapped.

I turned around and cannoned back into the computer lab.

My target was Mr. White Hair.

I ran fast, ignoring the long line of students and their look of consternation on their face.

Mr. White Hair.

He was my target.

Actually, he wasn’t, he was just collateral damage.

I left my student card behind.

_________________________________________

To summarize the whole story:

(Generate by memegenerator.com)

Search Terms

Posted on February 25, 2010 by Zareth

Was checking out my blog stats when this caught my eye:

I understand the first search term. People want to know if 009 Sound System is a Christian band. Well, it does seems like a Christian band because of all the songs’ titles, for example: Trinity, With A Spirit and Speak to Angels.

First, 009 Sound System is not a band. It is a solo pop experimental project produced by Alexander Perls.

Second, it is not a Christian project. While these few songs’ titles and lyrics may allude to Christianity, in my opinion, I don’t think it is a Christian project. The songs, I think, are more about spirituality.

More info can be found here, here, here and here.

Yes, I’m going to be an a-hole and make you click on those links. No, there are no malware or viruses and it is not some kooky websites. I found them on Google.

That matter aside, who the hell types in behaved awkwardly? And why is my blog linked to that search term? I don’t remember writing any post on awkward behaviours.

Oh, wait… it was about my awkward behaviours.

But still, that term raises so many questions. Was it a guy or girl who typed in this search term? Why did he/she do that? Did he/she fucked up some date? Or did their dates fucked it up? Did the condom break during sex? Or did they just wanted to see people behaving awkwardly on Youtube? If not, then what?

Geez… this is driving me insane. I’m going to type that in Google

Oh… fuck.

I feel so fucking bad.

Just click here and scroll down to the middle till you see my blog’s site.

Fuck me.

Moving back to the topic at hand.

I like looking at my blog stats because every time when I look at the Search Engine Term section to see how people find my blog through their search terms, I get a lot of hilarious results:

I know dude, last time the police shaved your head in the public if you get caught having long hair. But you know what? They still do that. It’s called National Service, or military service. Suck it up, I went through that too.

I don’t remember writing about Singapore hunks. That person must have been very disappointed when he/she came across my blog.

Yes I agree, Singapore can be boring sometimes. But you know, you just need to learn how to do the same shit in 1001 different ways. Use your brain, man.

I have a very strong feeling that the person behind this search term is a guy. I think this guy is wondering why a girl is not accepting his friend request. Or maybe he’s hoping some girls will send him a friend request?

Sorry buddy, I don’t have any trick and tips on how to get girls to accept your request or how to get girls to friend you on Facebook. So I’m sorry if you stumbled on my post on how NOT to accept a girl’s friend request.

Sorry buddy. Tough luck.

I feel you brother. I feel you. If it is any consolation, at least your hair will grow back.

What. The. Fuck.

I don’t know what exactly this person is trying to look for. But no, I don’t share the same gift with you. If by gift you meant talent, then I don’t know what talent you’re talking about.

But, it better be some good talent. I don’t want to find that I share some fucked up talent with you.

Wait, I don’t have any fucked up talent.

I’m serious… wait don’t go!

Trust me!

Come back!

Oh you bloody…

_________________________________________

I came across this song when I watching Wong Fu Production trailer for “The Sleep Shift” about two years ago. Wong Fu Productions are also the guys who produced the short film “Yellow Fever”.

Anyway, this is the song:

It’s a great song.

Another song I found while typing in my own random search term in Youtube about a few months back (I think it was along the lines of “Bear vs. Lion”) and I got this music video:

This is not the official music video. Some guy took a video clip and added the song. That guy did a bang-up job.

My eyes sweated when I saw this.

The Tooth Does Hurt – NSFW.

Posted on February 11, 2010 by Zareth

If you are squeamish about blood or hate gross pictures, then I can say that this post is indeed not for you.

If you have a weak stomach, then this is definitely not for you.

If you faint at the sight of the thinest trace of blood, then this is SERIOUSLY not for you.

But if you can stomach the sickest of things and watch through Saw III while eating pepperoni pizza (like me), then this is for you!

You know, kids, it does not pays to wrestle with the Tooth Fairy. Not when he is a hulking 1.93m (6ft 4in), 120kg (260 lbs) giant, also known previously as The Rock.

(Taken from daymix.com)