27 October 2014

The 90s called, they want their suits back (Reservoir Dogs tribute video)

Ravi, Roy, Hui Hui & gang: Plea not taken by protesters to public nuisance charges

Now imagine them doing the walk in slo-mo to Little Green Bag like in the 1992 Quentin Tarantino movie Reservoir Dogs.

Hope no one gets their ear sliced off.

UPDATE: Video of Roy Ngerng and gang arriving at court in slo-mo set to Little Green Bag.


Joseph Schooling, Roy and Hui Hui: Maybe we need a Manual Of Obedience

Online petitions: Bad news, good news for Han Hui Hui

26 October 2014

On Her Majesty's guest list: How come Ivan Heng got invited & not me?

Okay, I admit it. I’m jealous of Ivan Heng.

The theatre veteran and Cultural Medallion recipient was invited to the state banquet in Buckingham Palace with the Queen in honour of President Tony Tan Keng Yam during his UK visit last week.

And when I say “Queen”, I don’t mean Kumar. I mean Queen Elizabeth II of England.

As my Hokkien wife taught me to say: “Bo jio!”

(As defined by the ever-reliable online bible on Singaporean phrases, Wikipedia, “bo jio” means “you didn’t invite me”.)

Why am I jealous?

Free food!

Granted, it’s British food. But still, free food!

At least, I assume it’s free. I mean, you don’t have to prepare a hongbao, right?

Can you use Singapore dollars or must it be in British pound? Will the euro do?

How much do you give the Queen of England anyway?

Isn’t it enough we have to pay so much to watch English football on TV?

Who am I kidding? I don’t even watch football or give hongbao at wedding dinners.

Wait, wasn’t Heng the same guy whose life was so boring that he spent New Year’s Eve watching TV and complaining about the “cheena” Channel 5 countdown show on Facebook?

And now he gets invited to makan with Kate Middleton’s grandmother-in-law.

What changed between New Year’s Eve and last week that suddenly made him so invitable to royal shindigs hosted by a Helen Mirren impersonator?

Well, in August, Heng married Briton Tony Trickett in London.

I looked at my Hokkien wife disappointedly.

Why couldn’t we have married in England? Why couldn’t she be British? Why couldn’t she be a man?

Is that too much to ask for?

Perhaps Heng was invited by the Queen to make up for Section 377A, which came from the British, our former colonial masters, who repealed the anti-gay law in 1967 in England, yet Section 377A remains in Singapore in 2014.

If only Heng and Mr Trickett had hatched an egg together in a zoo, they could be removed from the library children’s section and placed in the adult section after weeks of controversy.

If they had been an Archie comic book, they would not have been allowed to be imported and distributed in retail outlets.

But if they had been an X-Men comic book, they would not be banned because they offered a balanced treatment on the issue of gay marriage.

Which is good because I bought the X-Men comic book as a present for my daughter’s 15th birthday last month even though she’s more into the Winter Soldier now, thanks to the movie.

Am I the only one who finds the new Avengers: Age Of Ultron teaser trailer kind of “meh”?

Sure, the Iron Man Hulkbuster suit is cool, but everything else seem so superhero generic. A little Blue Swede would’ve hit the spot.

That’s just a sample of the marvellous small talk I would’ve exchanged with the Queen had I been invited to the palace.

Did you see Renee Zellweger’s new face? What happened to her eyes? She doesn’t look like me any more.

I would also show Her Majesty the latest viral videos in Singapore on my new still-unbent iPhone 6.

Like the one where people coming up an escalator were forced into intimate positions with strangers one after another on a packed platform at the Lakeside MRT station.

Can Her Majesty see what SMRT is doing to her loyal Commonwealth subjects?

But I wouldn’t show her the video of an amorous young couple caught in an HDB stairwell perhaps training for a different type of vertical marathon because showing such a thing to the Queen would be inappropriate.

I would also steer the conversation away from the subject of the billion-dollar Singapore Sports Hub and its five-cent pitch, which should be easy to do unless Her Majesty happens to be a Jay Chou fan.

I would talk instead about how Singapore was just named the second best country in the world for expatriates by HSBC and the top country to visit in 2015 by Lonely Planet.

But I wouldn’t point out that the other countries in Lonely Planet’s top 10 – Namibia, Lithuania, Nicaragua, Ireland, Republic of Congo, Serbia, the Philippines, Saint Lucia and Morocco – aren’t exactly on my bucket list as places I want to visit before I die of Ebola.

What a great achievement for Singapore to beat second-place Namibia, a country on the same continent as where the Ebola outbreak started. We should definitely bat ourselves... I mean, pat ourselves on the back for that.

Oops, I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I didn’t mean to ruin your appetite. I’m sure you don’t serve bushmeat here at Buckingham Palace.


Perhaps it’s a good thing I was not invited to the royal banquet after all.

Ivan Heng would definitely make a better guest. He could complain to the Queen about Channel 5’s New Year’s Eve show.

- Published in The New Paper, 26 October 2014

19 October 2014

Open letter to Gurmit Singh about his open letter-writing daughter Gabrielle

Dear Gurmit,

How’s it going?

It’s been a while. The Phua Chu Kang movie didn’t turn out the way I hoped.

You look good for a guy a year older than me. Still hitting the gym?

I feel old.

I shouldn’t say that since there are older people who must be feeling older. I know how annoying it is to hear people younger than you complaining about feeling old.

Even when you’re 80, you can’t complain about feeling old because there’ll be someone 90 years old saying, “Old? You have no idea what feeling old means, you young punk!”

But I felt particularly old last week when I read about your daughter Gabbi’s open letter to Forever 21, calling out the misogynistic rap song being played in a clothing store targeted at women.

It’s cool that Forever 21 has apologised, explaining: “A staff member had played his own personal list, which was not part of the company recommendations.”

Gabbi reminds me of the Hwa Chong girl who wrote the open letter to her principal about the “sexist” relationship workshop in her school.

With young people like these, there may be hope for Singapore’s future after all.

As you can see, I’m also jumping on the public missive bandwagon by writing this open letter to you.

Kids. They grow up so fast.

I still think of Gabbi as the baby I saw when I visited you in your HDB flat in Woodlands in the 90s. And now she’s using words like “misogynistic”, “bitches” and “fellatio” in her open letter.

I can faint.

By the way, remember when you were still living in HDB? How crazy was that?

Would a Lamborghini fit into a standard HDB parking lot?

Just kidding!

Hey, I went through a mid-life crisis too. You bought an Italian supercar, I bought skinny jeans.

But you’ve replaced the Lambo with an Audi S5, right? I saw it on Instagram.

I also read on your Instagram that Gabbi has published a book of her poetry called Anomic Aphasia.

And she’s only 17!

That’s seriously impressive. I had to look up what “anomic aphasia” means. (It’s a medical condition where you can’t recall names.)

I’m still waiting for someone to publish my book of song lyrics I wrote in secondary school. And I’m 48!

My son is still working on his never-ending space fantasy epic which I’m afraid to read. I blame Adrian Pang for encouraging him to be a writer.

Which brings me to the real reason I’m writing you this letter.

No, not kill Adrian Pang.

As you may or may not know, my son was born in the same year as Gabbi. I remember thinking at the time how cool it would be if they grew up, started dating and got married – then you and I could be in-laws!

Well, it’s now 17 years later. They’re sort of at the age when they can start dating.

I was wondering... you know.

I know what you’re thinking – is my son worthy of dating your daughter?

Probably not.

I mean, he’s no Irfan Fandi, who’s also 17 and was just named one of the 40 best young talents in world football by The Guardian newspaper in UK.

But then at 1.86m, Irfan is way too tall for Gabbi.

My son, on the other hand, is about your height, which your daughter should be used to.

And frankly, I would make a better in-law than Fandi Ahmad. I would let you beat me at football.

Just like how Fandi let all those other teams beat his LionsXII.


Also, my son doesn’t like rap. He prefers Chinese orchestral music and there’s no such thing as misogynistic Chinese orchestral music.

Admittedly, he might have listened to Baby Got Back by Sir Mix-A-Lot a little too often because he kept rewatching the episode of Friends with that song on Blu-ray.

But he’s never all about the bass. Or treble.

He will never refer to anyone as a “pink fat lady” since he doesn’t work at Pizza Hut.

You may have read somewhere (my column last week) that my son can get pretty surly, but that’s only to me, his father.

Rest assured that to other people, he’s much, much, much less surly.

An introduction – that’s all I’m asking for after 20 years of acquaintance.

I may sound a bit desperate, but that’s because my wife and I are afraid no one will ever marry my son and we have nightmares about being stuck with him for the rest of our lives.

Yes, Gabbi deserves better, but so do we.

Just think about it. No pressure.

And please apologise to your wife, Melissa, for me. I didn’t mean to snub her at the PCK series wrap party at Zouk in 2007. I didn’t realise it was her until after I snubbed her.

Good luck with the President’s Star Charity show next month.

All the best in Singapore and JB,

PS: Would you happen to know how old Kheng Hua's daughter is now?

- Published in The New Paper, 19 October 2014

EARLIER: My son attended 'sexist' relationship workshop & survived!

UPDATE: My blog had 6 followers, I thought no one was going to see it


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