Saturday, April 30, 2005

Watch this space


Sigh. I don't even have a nose to pick.

Again. WATCH IT NOW!
Great storyline, although it's not quite original as it's adapted from the book with the same title. But it was a great sign of relief that the same author helped with the screen writing.
Excellent script. I was engaged through out the whole movie.
In radio advertising there's this golden rule: if you can engage the audience for 30 seconds, you pretty much've got a winner.
That's as difficult as it is for 30 seconds. But these people managed to do that for 2 hours. The 2 whole hours.
Yet in the end, it all counts on your sense of humour. The randomness of this movie is ENORMOUS. If you're a 'must have a cause then have effect' type of person, you might not like it.
But for you INACHU fans out there. There's actually this scene about dolphin leaving earth through meteors because they can't stand our stupidity and the world is coming to an end.
I like underdogs. And this movie is definitely one of them.
Special effects are flawless. Of course there'll always be some stupid bloopers website picking the slightiest mistakes, but from a first view, they're spotless.
Overall I rate the movie 9 out of 10.
So, great storyline, excellent script, randomness, smart dolphins, depressing robot, thorough engagement, perfect SFX. And they didn't even need to show a breast.
What are you waiting for?

Thursday, April 28, 2005

Power of dreams


Satomi in Australia. Nikon F80.

I was watching Simpsons today.
The good thing about studying advertising is there is never a downside in watching TV. Even if your favourite TV show were to be cut to commercial, you'd still watch the ads.
Anyway, car ads in Australia. That I don't get.
They take pride in the details they're advertising.
Look! Our car is good because it has 6 air bags, 4 disc CD player and air conditioning. Pay an extra $400 dollars and you'll get a spare tire!
Dude, when I'm paying $69,990 for a car, I'd be expecting a house on four wheels. I'm talking about cupholders and stuff.
What kind of shit ass car doesn't offer air bags?
They might as well say:' well there's nothing special about our car, so here's some extra air bags and hot air.'
If there's something bad about Australia, Car commercials is definitely one of them. And Neighbours. Definitely Neighbours.
Honda's print ads were doing pretty good last year.
Toyota, not that good. But they're still selling lots of cars.
Oh, and, yea I took the picture above. A Japanese exchange student in International House. Maybe that's what made me talk about cars, because Japan makes tons of cars.
Hmm, I'm not making any sense, am I?

Saturday, April 23, 2005

Curry flavoured shit


Call me 'thong face' one more time and I'll blow your brains out!

There's this girl in my Campaign seminar/tutorial.
Let's give her a nickname. Say, Curry.
So I was sitting behind Curry last Wednesday, trying to come out with ideas for the MADC Herald Sun campaign.
Then I look up from my visual diary.
I saw her back, her t-shirt, her jeans.
What I also saw, was the upper part of her green coloured G-string sticking out from her jeans.
Now Puh-leeese don't get me wrong. I'm not a perv. What happened was Curry's jeans was well down to her mid-ass level while her t-shirt was up to her belly button level.
So I'm left with this unfinished green 'T' shape object exposed in the middle. And yes, some crack.
Just like the helmet of a Clone Trooper. (See picture above)
That really grossed me out. For the rest of the class.

Yup. It's still a big mystery to me. G-strings.
Why would women wear them?
Did I miss something? Is there something special on the strings? Because they're fucking expensive as well.
So what, it's a butt floss? You wear them when there's something stuck between your ass or when you're suffering from a major diarrhoea? What, do they put mint on the string as well so that when you ass is bleeding from them rubbing against your inner butt cheek, at least you feel refreshed?
Actually, I quite like that idea. 'Mint flavoured toilet papers'.

Something else I don't get, is clear strap bras.
You know what I'm talking about, you see girls wearing tube tops over bras with clear straps.
Especially in Malaysia, maybe Klang, maybe Pandamaran.
Are they naive enough to seriously think that we can't see the strap just because it has no colour?
And sometimes when I say to a girl 'hey, you're wearing clear straps', she gets offended and say: you're not suppose to see that, you ham sup lou*!'
Well, it's OBVIOUSLY there! I CAN SEE THEM! Even my father sees them! Because, THERE ARE PLASTIC STRAPS HANGING OVER YOUR SHOULDERS! A
nd when it rains, you have RAINBOWS above your heads!

Anyway, back to G-strings.
Or rather, the Visible Panty Line (VPL).
Well, girls argue that they wear G-strings to hide their VPL.
Especially when they're wearing tight dresses.
Because it's embarassing to let people see the marks of your underwear. Laces or not laces. Granny or not Granny.
Just because of that, I'm going to let you girls in to some of the rare insights of a guy's mind. Are you ready?

YOU. NEED. TO. SHOW. YOUR. VPL.

Yes, you read me right. it's a must. Repeat after me: I need to show my VPL. I'll run through this with you.
So let's say you go to a party wearing a tight dress over a G-string.
Right, so there's this guy sitting in a corner. He's chillin out, he's bored. And he starts checking the girls out.
If the financial report of the distribution of wealth in The Economist is right, not EVERYONE can afford G-strings.
So our lovely guy here would be seeing lots of girls NOT wearing G-strings. Hence he will get A LOT of VPL.
He is definitely enjoying his evening.

But then he checks out YOUR ass.

This time he could not see ANY VPL.
None at all. Nil. Zilch. Sifir.
He panicked. He's in shock. He looks at your buttocks, your chest, your thighs, searching frantically for your VPL.
So there you go. You have a guy staring at your buttocks CONSTANTLY for the whole night.
If your butt could talk, it'd request some make up from you.
So eventually this chap will come up with 2 conclusions: A. You are wearing G-strings, you take pride of your ass or B. You are NOT wearing G-strings, you are Ms. Commando.
ANYHOW, you've got a guy imagining you naked with and WITHOUT a G-string. Well done.
Unless you're extremely bitchy and goes by the last name Hilton, I think it's a lose-lose situation for you.
And trust me, when a guy thinks you're not wearing anything underneath, the whole party will get the news in approximately 19 minutes and 46.12 seconds. Max.
And you always wonder why guys only tried to pick you up when the party is nearly over.

So you see. We NEED VPL. We breathe VPL. We feel comfortable looking at VPL. It is NATURAL to have VPL.
Now I'm pretty sure I had a point for this post, just that I got carried away. Wait! Wait! I remember! It's about Curry.

Yes, the point is green coloured G-strings is ugly.

*hum sup lou = dirty pervert. Cantonese.
Photo from Lucasarts.com

Viva le FCUK!

So I'm the entertainment coordinator for Cafe right?
Then I've got to audition people for their acts.
One of the acts approved is the Japanese Doll Dance.
My girlfriend and I were kind of supervising their dance practise. She's the overall Cafe coordinator. In short, I'm her bitch.

Me: I think that part was a bit too messy. Their eye contacts weren't that good either.
GF: No, no, no. I thought it was pretty good. Just some minor tuning here and there. I think it's good!
(give thumbs up to one of the girls, winking)

Me: Mmmmnah not really. I still find it under par.
GF: Don't be ridiculous! They worked hard.
Me: We'll ask Parky. Hey PARKY! Come on, back me up. The act was messy! Not tidy at all!

(Parky is this American/Australian guy friend of mine. He was sitting awkwardly in the corner watching the dance as well.)

Parky: Well...... actually, I was too busy looking at Naoko's t-shirt.

(silence)

Everyone looked at Naoko's t-shirt.
Sudden burst of laughter and shock.

Naoko's t-shirt has ' THE BEST FUCK IN TOWN' written on it.
She went blushing red with embarassment.
And this is the best part: she didnt' even notice that until just now.
She bought the t-shirt in Gold Coast and had been wearing it for weeks now. Didn't even bother to pay attention to what was written, she bought it for the colour pink.
WTF? WTF? WTFFFFFF?

Actually I don't blame her... much. Japanese and Korean product has the most incomprehensible English ever. You know, on the cute pencil cases or notebooks, you'll find strange stuff written on it such as 'Peesful Lovely Green' or 'Friendship Panda Delicious' or 'Made in for China Country'.
No wonder they don't read what's written in English on t-shirts. Because it didn't make any fucking sense to start with.

Thursday, April 21, 2005

Supersize crap

Sorry this is gonna be another rant of an advertising student.
I have a problem with McDonald's new campaign strategy.
It's like 2 years old, I know, but bear with me.
What's wrong with 'Good time, Great taste'?
I know they are having problems with their health food/fast food issue, but why change the whole image?
Like, when I think of McDonalds', I DO think of having a good time. As trashy and unhealthy as the food can be, they DO taste good.
And I liked their commercials that focused on family gatherings and snapshots of common life (I still remember the kid with his grandma in Melacca on a trishaw).
But now they say 'I'm lovin' it'.
Lovin' WHAT may I ask? What the hell is 'it'?
And the commercials don't make sense. People on skateboards, taxis, in a bathtub with earphones sucking through a straw.
You see, 'Good time Great taste' made a point. You eat the tasty food, you enjoy your time.
But so now you don't care anymore. You just love it. Even if the food will kill you, just love it. Even if you're skateboarding with dirt all around you, you're just LOVIN' it.
Changing the campaign stirs curiosity as well. So now you're saying McDonald's doesn't taste good anymore? So we can't have a great time now? I just have to love it? Wha?
Yea, they're losing market share. When you introduce health food in a fast food restaurant, that's an identity crisis. People DO NOT go to McDonald's to eat health food. Just like how people DO NOT look for books in a techno club.
What? Varieties you say?
Well that's just being too demanding I say.

Saturday, April 16, 2005

Black humour eh?


Photo from Columbia Pictures.

Take a baby face and baboon face cast.
Run along with your average black/white racist plot.
Lightbox it behind a 'Meet the Parents' story line.
And voila, you get Guess Who, this new film about in-law phoebia.
Seems like creativity in screen writing is running low.
Well, you might have guessed it already. The plot line sucks.
Bernie Mac holds on the movie well, with his intimidating face and sarcastic jokes; and Ashton Kutcher? He can go back and concentrate on making Demi Moore pregnant.
Don't bother going to the movies, download the trailer from apple.com and you get the whole story. I'll tell you the ending: It's happy.
At least I've learnt some racist jokes, like:
What's a black man chased by 300 white men? The PGA tour.
Why do black people hate country music? Coz everytime they sing 'Ho Down', black people'd think their sisters got shot.
That's it. I just gave away the best part of the movie, don't hate me.
Hate the screenwriters.

Friday, April 15, 2005

Battery type is it?

Ok. The AABA variation is a Pop music principle.
You break a song into 4 parts.
Let's say intro to chorus makes up the 1st part.
Normally the 2nd part of the song will mimic the first part with an intro and chorus again.
Yet at the 3rd part, there's normally a slight change in the key. The key normally changes from a major key to a minor key.
The 4th part concludes with the original key.
Hence it's called the A-A-B-A variation because the 3rd part changes into a B. Why AABA? Why can't we called it 1121 or XXYX, or LLCL? Beats the shit out of me.

Let's test drive this theory with the ultimate pop song of all time: I don't wanna miss a thing by Aerosmith. It works better if you listen to it while you read this post.

I could stay awake, just to hear you breeetheeeiiaaaaahn~
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
While you're far away and dreaming
Ic Spe Mil Sury Sa Mosure Ender (Fast Forward)
I DON'T WANNA CLOSE MY EYES~ I DON'T WANNA FAEAELL ASLEEP COZ I MISS YOU BABE AND I DUN WANNA MISS A THING

Right? So that's part one. The first A.
And then the song continues with

Lying close to you, feeling your heart beateeeiiaaaaahng~
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming
Ahen Keyes Thod Yogher Sith Mever aver (Fast Forward)
I DON'T WANNA CLOSE MY EYES~ I DON'T WANNA FAEAELL ASLEEP COZ I MISS YOU BABE AND I DUN WANNA MISS A THING


That's part two. And that makes AA.
Now this is where the song changes, with a minor key

I don't wanna miss one smile
I don't wanna miss one kiss
I just wanna be with you
Right here with you, just like this
I just wanna hold you close
I feel your heart so close to maaeeaaaiien(eh)!
And you'll stay here at his moment for all the rest of time
YEAH yea YEAH yea YAAAEEIIEAAREIEIRRRGH~

That makes AAB,
then the songs end with another chorus with the original key

I DON'T WANNA CLOSE MY EYES, DON'T WANNA FAEAELL ASLEEP COZ I MISS YOU BABE AND I DUN WANNA MISS A THING

And that completes AABA. Note that nowadays pop songs are really variable. They don't do it that obvious anymore. Some songs just drop to a minor key for the bridge. Not all songs follow the AABA format, it's used more in the 1950s.
Well, that's it for a short introduction of the format for pop songs, at least that's what I make of my lectures. So if you're some music student/expert who knows a lot about music. Don't come and give me shit about I'm wrong with this and that. It's only a simple outline. I just wanna have fun listening to Aerosmith.

Monday, April 11, 2005

Blast off!

I think I've eaten the worst meal in Melbourne. EVER.
After drinking some hot chocolate in Koko Black on Saturday night, I decided to take away a chicken kebab from the shop next door, FK (falafel kitchen).

The chicken was NOT chicken. No, I'm not trying to be 'matrix'ly philosophical, just that it was SHIT. It's like a cooked chicken that tasted raw. It has those spongy white clear fat part in between the meat and they didn't go well with yogurt sauce and onions.

The outcome? Well, you know sometimes when you shit REAL hard your calf and thigh muscles sort of go numb? Yea, I stayed in the JCR for three hours because I didn't feel strong enough to walk back to my apartment. So to reward FK, I think I should do some advertising for them. It's goes like this:

Having trouble exercising? Always thought that you should be losing weight instead of pigging out? Is your shit a bit too solid and hard? Have we got the solution for you! For only $7.95, Falafel Kitchen is introducing the Falafel Ultra Chicken Kebab(FUCK). We guarantee you'll lose weight with FUCK in just 3.68 seconds. FUCK comes in 3 flavours: sweet chili, yogurt paste, or Arabic men sweat, all for your different needs. FUCK sculps your ab, thigh, and calf muscles in the most natural way while you enhance your ass wiping skill. So what are you waiting for? Get your own FUCK right now! Enjoy FUCK! Experience FUCK! Eat FUCK!

Unauthorized by the Victorian government of Melbourne.

I can eat my own head

This is a online mIRC chat conversation between my brother and some chick(most probably from Singapore).

PaulPheonix: So you like music a lot.
Mimi: YES! I'm the expert in music loh. I listen to everyone and everything. As long as it's music I sure listen one.
PaulPheonix: Wait, you said everyone? Sure or not...
Mimi: Of course la. I'm the biggest expert in music.
PaulPheonix: Ok, what do you think of MARILYN MANSON?

(Pause for 2 minutes)

Mimi: ...I find HER* so so only loh. I think Madonna's better.

PaulPheonix has left the conversation.

* Marilyn Manson is anything but a she.

Saturday, April 09, 2005

Eat shit Trinity and Queens

Yea, breaking news. IH actually won theatre sports.
After two long years being butt slashed by Whitley, we made the biggest come back ever.
Better still, we beat Ormond, Trinity, Queens and the rest of the pussy crescent colleges. Take that you racist pieces of shit!
Best of all, I was in the team.
Although all I did was function as a pair of hands.
And made the statement: All hail Chief Umbubu for the birth of his second head, Nancy!
Well, people only heard Umbubu and they started laughing.
So now I'm the 'Umbubu' guy around IH and Melbourne uni.
But seriously the topics given were bad.
The MC who accepted it was worse.

The Pope comes back alive? Odorless soap? Pamela Anderson has Aids? Conference for gay marriage?
Really, no taste, no taste at all.
But what I'm really glad is: This week is FUCKIN over!
Over the week I've got an assignment, a presentation, the Ball, a test and theatre sports. That was painful.
Oh wait, I need to audition people for cafe tomorrow because I'm the entertainment coordinator. Crap.

Friday, April 08, 2005

Remove your fingers off my nose


IH Mafia Ball 2005, San Remo Ballroom.

I have a question. Why do they call a ball a 'ball'?
First of all, WHERE is the ball?
What, that shiny thingy in the picture?
Basketball's a ball. Football's a ball. Heck, even ping pong's a ball.
That is definitely NOT a ball.
Besides, they have it in disco and clubs too. I don't see people calling those places a 'ball'.
Anyway, the ball was enjoyable and minimal casualty(no ambulances) although food reminded me of Eurest.
And I get to see a hot chick kissing a hot chick kissing a not-that-hot chick for at least FIVE times.
I say what's next? What could possibly surprise us?
A gay man kissing a lesbian woman that's what.
Maybe they'll give birth to a triplets of unicorn.

Thursday, April 07, 2005

'Hajime' means Beginning


Maybe I've lost the chance to ever be a decent human being.

Learned about the song 'South of the Border' during Popular Music & Society tutorial last thursday.
I am aware of this song as it resembles one of Murakami's book title: South of the Border, West of the Sun.
I've never listened to it before until the tutorial.
And then it made sense.

Hajime is an only child. He had no companion but Shimamoto. They spent long afternoons listening to her father's record collection. But when his family moved away, they lost touch. Now Hajime is in his thirties. He has a loving wife and two daughters, and a jazz bar.
Then Shimamoto reappears.

And these are the lyrics of South of the Border:

south of the border - down mexico way
that's where I fell in love, where the stars above came out to play
and now as I wonder - my thoughts ever stray
south of the border - down mexico way

she was a picture - in old spanish lace
just for a tender while, I kissed a smile upon her face
'cause it was a fiesta - and we were so gay
south of the border - mexico way

then she smiled as she whispered manjanna
never dreaming that we were parting
then I lied as I whisper manjanna
'cause our tomorrow never came

south of the border - I jumped back one day
there in a veil of white, by the candle light she knelt to pray
The mission bells told me that I musn't stay
south of the border - mexico way

This song is made in 1931. No one actually knows about the actual singer, so people would assume it's Frank Sinatra, or Nat King Cole. But Frankie and Nat are not famous till the 1960s.
Obviously, the song is about how a guy screwed and left a girl in Mexico. I guess it happens everywhere now.

Just like how Hajime fell in love with Shimamoto and lost her.
Near the third quater of the story, he drove her to a river and emptied her child's ash. And discovered a little about her past.

She was just like the girl in the song, kneeling.
But no one but the song writer knew what she was praying for.
So from Murakami's point of interpretation, the woman lost a child.

Not only that, the book actually follows the AABA* pop song format of the song, which is: A) fucked a girl. A) the girl was hot. B) leaving her(climax). A)saw her again, but never bothered to say hi.
Now, the book's format: A)loved a girl. A)girl returns. B) discover girl's past(climax). A)girl left again, life back to normal.

The more I think about it, the more I'm impressed with Murakami's majestic talent in relating his story to pop culture.

* I'd explain this AABA thingy in another post.

Go Nancy


My group mates(Kennie and Carina) and I had probably done the best presentation for this semester.
We've worked on this BONDS boxers for women for like a month.
Of course I'm not going to bore you with my advertising life.
But I'm feeling happy so you have to listen anyway.
The whole idea of BONDS boxers is that women feel (ridiculously)comfortable in them anytime, anywhere. The print above is one of the four executions we'd got.
So for our presentation, we dressed up professionally.
I'm talking about suit and ties and other serious shit like that.
After the introduction, we STRIPPED.
Yea, you've red me right. We stripped, but just enough for the audience to understand that we're getting ourselves comfortable, which is relevant to our presentation.
I think that kicked arse, and it was my idea.
Go, you disturbing brain cells, you.

*if you really can't read, the headline says: Ridiculously comfortable boxers for women.

Monday, April 04, 2005

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

Mr. MIB, Mr. MIB

Kids crave for attention like how Michael Jackson'd drool over the teletubbies show a couple of years back.
I remember attending an indian wedding almost five years ago.
It's the neo-traditional type of wedding.
First you have the ceremony. Then dinner. Then Vengaboys.
Remember Vengaboys?
'The Vengabus is coming, and everybody's jumping, New York and San Francisco, an intercity disco...'
'Boom boom boom boom, I want you in my room. Let's spent the night together, for now until forever...'
Yea. THAT Vengaboys.
Anyway, what REALLY amused me was the kid on the next table.
You know how when the children swear in public, the parents would be so pissed but just couldn't beat the shit out of them because it would be too embarassing?
Well, I don't know whether if the kid was severly abused at home. Apparently he used that oppurtunity well. Maybe, he was just craving for attention, or some bone fractures.
When he said 'FUCK' the whole table went silent, and the father went: ' How can you say such thing on the table? No fishball for you! Keep quiet! Eat your vegies!'
And then you know the whole story. The kid basically went berserk and swore all the words he ever learned for his entire life.
'CHEEE BAAAAI~~! LAN JEEEEEEOW! NEEEAAAAMAAA PUUKEEEE~! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK~! Che he he he he bahyee. Kam Lan. KHAM LAN! Che he he he bahyee~~! KN2BC2B*! FAAAAAAAARGH! LAO BUUUU FARKER~~!! HAHAHAHHA'

Nothing beats seeing something beautiful get destroyed.

*KN-squared BC-squared B: Kan Nin Na Be Cao Chee Bai. Seriously, if you don't know, don't ask.

Oh the 'garden' in kindergarten is 'garten'?

Was talking to my girlfriend about our kindergarten lives.
And then I thought of Ah Kok.
When I first saw Ah Kok as a kid, I asked my mother:
Mom, why he look like that one? Mummy why you slap me? Why I cannot say he look scaaaaaaary? (got dragged away)
Nevertheless, we sort of became friends because, well, kids have short term memory. So I kinda got freaked out by Ah Kok everyday until both of us got used to it.
And frankly, Ah Kok was a nice kid.
Compared to that stupid Alfred kid who shared the same water bottle as me and always says: Nah you see my bottle got one small dot one, don't take wrong ah!
There's always one of those 'water bottle' kids.
Now one day, Ah Kok was fighting with another kid in class.
I was walking by, and suddenly got knocked down and fell down.
The teacher with bee hive face then came in, thinking I was part of it and locked all three of us in the toilet.
To tell the truth I wasn't afraid at all even though Ah Beng and his rival-turned-cellmate were scared shitless.
I climbed on the bathtub and opened the window.
'Eh, we can escape though the window! Ah Kok you jump first!'
Being my trustworthy(dumb) friend, Ah Kok didn't hesitate.
What he didn't know was that we were on the second floor.
Thankfully, the teacher opened the door before the fatal leap.
I seriously thought we could escape if we'd jump out. Really.
Klang kindergarten kids were FUCKING dumb I tell you.

Sunday, April 03, 2005

Yoga, anyone?


Give me the all-region code for my DVD player, Morpheus!

I'm not a music buff.
Of course, when it's some song I REALLY like I'll try to know the song better and get attached to it for the rest of the year.
Some stick with me for life.

Yet when I'm listening to music in general, I don't pay much attention. I don't get hardcore and memorize the lyrics of every single pop song there is.
Music is an expression, of mood, feelings, opinions, etc.
So if you ask me about Moby's latest album, Hotel, I'd say it's a damn good album to listen to when you're doing work.
When I say work, I don't mean your 5000 word essay, or the aero-nautical orbit culculation of planet Jupiter.
I mean drawing. I mean researching. I mean making models, editing videos, or your 500 word essay. You dig?
It sets you in a mellow mood, these dance/techno stuff.
It's my favourite album for now. Hooked to it, since all my home work include drawing, researching, illustrating, editing photos.
I recommend love should(11) and slipping away(12).

Photo from moby.com