Merry belated Christmas.

Pop quiz: Which part of Malaysia is this?

Answer: You're wrong anyway. It's the Myer Stocktake sale in Sydney. And this is just the queue to the escalator. THE ESCALATOR!

Which brings me to a question: Who started boxing day sale in Australia? Who thought of the idea of shopping the day right after Christmas?

I mean, Christians'd have done their shopping way before 25th. So obviously the sale is catering for the rest who didn't celebrate the previous day. Apology for shutting Asians from our shopping routine I guess?

Meanwhile, this is how some people spent their Christmas. There's a whole gallery dedicated to this kind of shit:

Ho ho ho honey.

My Secret Santa gift. I'm not a big candy fan, but it'll get me a lot of friends.

You, you, you.

So I was walking around Chinatown when I heard this loud horn, made only possible by a taxi. Before I could make any judgment against the Indians, I realised that it wasn't the driver's fault at all.

A kid almost got hit by jaywalking, and the driver was simply giving an angry warning. That was fine, because kids tend to do that.

What shited me, was the mom. She pulled the kid back, and let him go again after the cab drove past so he could continue his jaywalk.

That was way pass the level of neglection that she should've been executed right there and then. If I try to pull something like that when I was a kid I'm sure I'd get beaten up by my mom like an egg in the process of becoming cake.

No, seriously, this is why kids nowadays are suing schools for being illiterate. Because they aren't educated to take responsibility of their own mistakes. Oh, I nearly got hit by a bus, it's the driver's fault. I failed my exam, fuck the school. I became a prostitute, damn those expensive LV bags for making me want them.

Baby + Rat = Brat?

This is awesome. Not sure if you'll gain popularity among the aunties and chihuahua chicks, but you can get them in blue or pink here.

Hermit.

So after a company Xmas party and a random BBQ party, I've came to the conclusion that I'll definitely die alone.
I can't talk to strangers. Or, strangers can't talk to me.
The normal opening is fine: Hi what's your name, where do you live, what are you doing? And then when they realise I do advertising, enter the dead silence. I might as well say I'm an animal porn star.

Suddenly, no one can really relate to what I do. Or, it's just so out of their comprehension they started talking about pigeons.

I can't talk to a normal Aussie bloke, because I don't a) drink b) jerk off to my V8 car and c) jerk off to my Footy poster.

I can't talk to a random girl, because I'm not a normal Aussie bloke.

This is so fucked.

The return of Andrzejia!

I kept forgetting to announce this to the world: Parky has finally updated his blog! And he is, erm, majestic, and admirable!
I must say Qiqihar looks like... Shah Alam sans dirt.

Big surprise. China makes pirated ads.

Photo via MadisonBoom.

So Adidas had just revealed their Olympic 2008 campaign. Great visual, ok idea, but wait! Why do I have that tingling sensation that made me squint?
It's probably because Visa's got the same ads for this year's Commonwealth games. I tried to make a search but this is all I've got:



You can imagine the briefing from the client: Ok, we want EVERYONE to be part of the games. And the agency went back saying: Ok, this is how we show EVERYONE is part of the games. SOLD!
I thought the ads looked terrible then. But now you can really see how far art direction can carry a so-so idea. Who knows, maybe the Adidas campaign still suck. Just that I'm already immune to the taste of shit.