There’s something about The Fine Art of Bullshitting

I was in this utterly boring beneficial career workshop a couple of weeks ago. During the few moments when I was triumphant in my fight against the Zzzz Monster, I think I actually managed to grasp what the lecturers were trying to say about interviews: Always stress about how good you are.

That sounds deceptively simple, especially if you are a high-flying dean lister (I have a 4000cc brain!) with stellar co-curricular records (I won the US Open the other day!). I’m in a perpetual state of depression because while there are too many overachievers in the uni, I am perpetually under-achieving.

For slacking bums like me, my wise lecturers have this follow up: If you have nothing good to say, then stress about how good your bad points are.

I shall valiantly give their suggestion a try:


I am very involved in social and community work. That is, I always part with 5 cents to drive away the pesky flag-sellers on weekends.

My hobbies include wine appreciation. That is, I drink beer a lot.

I am in tune with the latest happenings in the IT industry. That is, I spend my weekends on computer games and bargain hunting in Sim Lim.

I read the latest periodicals. That is, those ‘man-entertainment’ magazines.

I dare to take calculated risk. That is, I buy 4D.

I am very active in sports. That is, I watch ESPN frequently.

I am experienced in event management. That is, I organize the mahjong gatherings for my kakis.

I am able to work well independently. That is, I am anti-social.

I am able to work well in groups. That is, I leech on my project-mates well.

I am make use of all available resources. That is, I will bring the office stationery home.

I multi-task well. That is, I always procrastinate on my work, and the projects just keep piling up.

I like to communicate. That is, I spend too much time chatting on MSN.

I have great dreams and ambitions. That is, I would like to take over your job someday.

I am plan my finances carefully. That is, I am stingy.

I am a generous person. That is, I am a spendthrift.

I am a fan of the fine arts. That is, the fine art of bullshitting.


I'll like to stress the above points are not about me. I mean, I've never heard of any dinos who drinks, steals stationery, and plays 4D and mahjong.

Signing off, Barneysaurus

There’s something about Chalet Conversations, Part II

Besides getting mocked at during that chalet outing last week, and discovering that three of my former classmates are now openly gay, I also got to reaffirm what must be two of the greatest mysteries of mankind, the second of which is this: Women are attracted to assholes.

What is worse is that they can’t seem to leave them.


Me: My goodness, have you lost weight again?

Attractive female ex-classmate: Haha, I’m on a diet lah. . . .

Me: But you don’t need a diet! You’re slim enough already!

Attractive female ex-classmate who is really slim: Haha… actually, I’m trying to save up. . . .

Me: Wow! Marriage plans? I’ll make sure you get a big ang pow!

Attractive female ex-classmate: Haha. . . no lah. . . I need to help Ah **** with his debts. . . .


Ah **** is this, for the lack of a better description, shithead boyfriend of my friend for as long as I can remember. I’ve only met him once before, and he didn’t exactly left a good impression because he was practically putting my friend down through out dinner with comments like Chicken chop again? You are so boring and No desserts for you because you are fat. My friend ended up ordering fish and chips, forgoing the ice cream, and paid for his dinner too. She also helped him clear his gambling debts he incurred from betting losses in the ’98 World Cup, only to have to do it all over again following the ’02 World Cup.

No wonder my friend doesn’t like soccer.

We suspect she has been abused by him before after a friend saw her wearing shades for work because of certain reasons. In a separate incident, another friend had a long talk with her after spying that jerk behaving intimately with another girl.

I thus find it incredible that she refuse to let go of this relationship. She is the nice and caring sort of friend who would SMS you a cheery ‘Happy Birthday!’ even though you’ve not met up for years, and bothers to ask how your mum is getting along when you meet up in a chalet. Even though she looks kind of haggard last week, she is still very attractive, and I bet there is no lack of suitors from her office in Shenton Way.

The scariest thing is, she is not the only friend I know who clings on to jerks for boyfriends. So the big question is: Why?!?!?

Here’s a list of the common reasons I collated from friends and acquaintances over time:

1) He is my first love.
I’m not sure if this is applicable to all girls, but almost all my female friends told me the first boyfriend always have a special place in their heart. Even if they are shitheads.

2) He can be really nice to me at times.
For my friend, that would be the memorable surprise party he planned for her 21st birthday, or the times he rode her to view the sunset at East Coast (I thought the sun sets at the west?). Unfortunately, my friend fails to see that such acts of sweetness occurs only at times, with the frequency decreasing over time.

3) Bad boys bring excitement into my life.
I have nothing to say about that.

4) I’m scared of losing this relationship and embarking on another again.
I know it is not easy to let go of a relationship. I know it is scary to be single and lonely on Saturday nights again. But frankly, nothing can be scarier than spending the rest of your life with someone who seems to take delight in making your life an absolute hell.

5) I don’t want to leave him because he is rich/ handsome/ ‘well-equipped'.
If that’s the reason, then congrats! The two of you deserves each other.

6) I don’t want to leave him because I believe he will change one day.
This is possibly the worst reason for not ditching a shitty boyfriend. Sorry to shatter your fairytale, but people don’t change. When they do, they change for the worse. If they do change for the better, then they should be the ones making the effort to win you back. It shouldn’t happen the other way round.


I thus conclude that there is no good reason why people should stick around with jerks when they deserve so much better. For goodness’ sake, find someone who can make you happy instead of making you cry. As incredible as it may sound, nice and single people do exist. For example, you, when you finally muster the courage to ditch that shithead.

Signing out, Barneysaurus

P.S. My friend had to leave earlier that night because Ah **** told her to ferry him to a drinking session with his buddies. Damn, we were so pissed.

There’s something about Why I Don’t Like Clubbing

A few hundred Wednesdays ago, a bad influence a friend by the name of Adrienne brought me on my maiden clubbing trip at this place call Zook. I didn’t like it because of the following reasons:


1) I fell into a drain accidentally just before I reach the place. My first fifteen or so minutes at that nightspot was thus spent in the loo, squeezing rain water out from my pants and socks.

2) The guys there were happily mingling with attractive females, but I only had Pi De and Linx (two males) plus Adrienne (75% male) for company.

3) The place was thick with smoke, and I don’t smoke.

4) The place was meant for people who enjoy alcohol, and I don’t drink.

5) The place was full of people who can’t dance to save their lives, and I’m one of them.


Even though I didn’t like that place, I still enjoyed myself that night because of the company. Heck, I could even be in a fish market, but still enjoy myself if I’m with likeminded shitty people like Adrienne and Linx.

So basically, this post is not really about why I don’t enjoy clubbing.

It’s about why my friends rock :)

I love you guys!

Signing off, Barneysaurus

P.S. To the said ‘rocking’ friends: this post has got absolutely nothing to do with my birthday, which is incidentally coming in about a month’s time. Oh! Totally unrelated, but I was shopping the other day and saw this really nice and small and expensive Sony laptop model number VGN-T37 which would make a very nice birthday gift. That new condo near Orchard, or a sparkling new Toyota Celica sounds damn nice too. I stress again that this has nothing to do with my birthday, which is incidentally coming in about a month’s time.

There's something about The Way I Felt During Yue Bing Jie

一张照片，两碗汤圆，人山人海的唐人街. . . .
好久没有看见彩虹，好久没有这样的感觉了. . . .


Signing off, Barneysaurus

There’s something about Chalet Conversations

Me: I don’t understand. You’ve just broke off with xxxxx a few weeks ago, and now you’re attached already? I don’t get it.

He: It’s quite simple really: Single, eligible and attractive guys like me don’t stay single for very long.

Me: Oh yeah? Then why am I still single?

He: It’s quite simple really: You are neither eligible nor attractive.


I love the conversations I have with my brutally honest and utterly witty friends.

Signing off, Barneysaurus

There’s something about My Missed Date With Ono Lisa

Being a big fan of her, I was naturally thrilled the other day when I received this flyer: Ono Lisa’s coming for her maiden concert in Singapore.

The bad news is that the concert happens to fall on the evening before an exam. Damn.

I can think of several good reasons not to go for the concert, with the first one being the jeopardization of my exams. Secondly, I can save a lot of money, or get her CDs instead.

The final reason is that I’ll be watching the concert alone. I have watched movies all by myself before, but I’m not too sure if I can handle a full-length concert. I bet it will feel weird.

Then I recalled something I read a long time ago, probably by someone very famous and probably very dead: Life is too short for regrets. And I don’t want to regret having missed Ono Lisa. My exams can be prepared before hand; the money can always be earned back again; I don’t mind being on my own at times.

So I went to book my ticket online.

I think I made a great decision because I was allocated a great seat: dead centre, and just a few rows from the front. I happily proceeded to check-out.

And that was when the booking system screwed up on me. Apparently, the system couldn’t recognize my card, which entitles me to a good discount. I am too lazy to call the staff to sort things out.

And that’s how I missed my date with Ono Lisa.

Signing off, Barneysaurus

There’s something about Seven Things

I don’t usually reply to chain mails. But heck, this is such a fun topic, I’ll do it for once:

7 Things That Scare Me
1) Meteors
2) Spear-wielding Cavemen
3) Tyrannosauruses
4) Dirty teeth
5) Balding
6) Homophobics
7) Michael Jackson

7 Things That I Like Most
1) Kids
2) Singing
3) Dancing
4) Roaring
5) My tail, which I whirl around a lot
6) Anger management lessons
7) Red, white, and blue sneakers

7 Important Things In My Room
1) The Barney suit I wear for Monday shows
2) The Barney suit I wear for Tuesday shows
3) The Barney suit I wear for Wednesday shows
4) The Barney suit I wear for Thursday shows
5) The Barney suit I wear for Friday shows
6) The Barney suit I wear for Saturday shows
7) The Barney suit I wear for Sunday shows

7 Random Facts About Me
1) I can’t close my mouth
2) Come to think about it, I can’t blink either
3) I smile too much
4) My skin gets kind of itchy after wearing that purple suit for hours
5) I auditioned for Power Rangers, but they said I was too fat
6) So did that fat bird from Sesame Street.
7) I am a very happy dinosaur.

7 Things I Plan To Do Before I Die
1) Pee
2) Hold a world concert tour
3) Find a female dino and make lots of dino babies. I’m doing this so my kind won’t get extinct.
4) Climb the Empire State Building ala King Kong
5) Establish world peace
6) Make everybody happy
7) Tell Laura I love her. Tell Laura I miss her. Tell Laura not to cry, my love for her will never die.

7 Things You Can Do
1) I can eat
2) I can sleep
3) I can pee
4) I can walk
5) I can run
6) I can run faster
7) I can run very very fast

7 Things You Can’t Do
1) I cannot not eat
2) I cannot not sleep
3) I cannot not pee
4) I cannot not walk
5) I cannot not run
6) I cannot not run faster
7) I cannot not run very very fast

7 People I’ll Love To See Doing This
1) Alexander The Great
2) Bugs Bunny
3) Charlie Chaplin
4) Donatello (the ninja turtle, not the artist)
5) Edward Scissorhands
6) Fisherman’s Friend
7) Gundam

I also request incredibly bo liao creative linkees such as Adrienne and Gree Ogre to start their own 7 things list.

Signing off, Barneysaurus

There’s something about The Joys of Jogging

A friend popped this question to me while we were having dinner about a month back:


He: So are you ever going to give that four-lettered word that begins with a capital L a try again?

Me: . . . . Frankly, I have no idea. Damn scared about this kind of thing already.

He: You know something? What you need is a good jog. My mind always clears when I go for a run.

Me: I think you are right.

Me: Let’s join the marathon then.


So I found myself jogging a really long 16km yesterday evening. After all the training, I’m really hoping that it won’t rain when 4th December finally comes.

To that friend, if you ever happen to read this: I am incredibly scared about getting hurt and hurting someone again, but I guess I will give that four-lettered word that begins with a capital L a try again when I meet that special someone who is worth the risk of it all.

Red, white, and blue sneakers. . . .

Signing off, Barneysaurus

There’s something about The New Blog Name & That Birthday Dinner

When I started this blog thingy a week or so back, I named it The New Adventures of Barneysaurus as a homage to The New Adventures of Bobbin by the utterly brilliant local freelance cartoonist Joycelyn Yik. I totally dig her works because the funny recollections of school, exams and crushes make me feel like a giggling schoolgirl all over again, except that I have ever been a giggling schoolgirl before of course. Heh heh.

In view of my proneness to suayness however, I have decided that The Misadventures of Barneysaurus will be a more apt title instead. So I changed it.

*Roars!*

. . . .

In another ten or so hours, Adrienne will fall officially under the ‘late twenties’ category. We had a good early celebration last night, though the presence of Missing Friend #01 (in the process of morphing into Dr Missing Friend #01 in down under), Missing Friend #02 (who promptly disappeared after her wedding), and Missing Friend #03 (who usually don’t reply your SMSes unless you are a very desirable female) were sorely missed.

But it’s ok, because all the Non-Missing Friends (#01 to #06, including Adrienne and Barney) were there. As usual, not everyone was on time, and we also spent a very long time deciding on where to eat. We eventually decided on Kenny Roger’s because it’s the year of the Rooster.

Miscellaneous lessons I learnt over dinner:


1) Safeguard your food. My friends showed how greedy they can be when they helped themselves to my mashed potatoes while I was busy SMSing.

2) Burger King discount coupons are not really ideal birthday presents.

3) Neither are Kenny Roger’s muffins, which we also tried to pass off as a birthday cake.

4) Try not to crack lame jokes when your friend is trying to swallow panadols. Especially if the said friend has a history of spurting water uncontrollably. Through the nose.


In short, we had great fun while doing pretty much about nothing, and only left after the staff cleared our table really noisily. I also suspect they turned off the aircon.

To Adrienne: Hope you had fun at that Nun Bar place after we left. You can collect your BK coupons and Barney VCD from me the next time we meet. Peace!

Signing off, Barneysaurus

There’s something about Why Insomnia Rocks (When It’s Not Happening To Me)

Updated!



I was about to launch into another one of my ramblings that doesn’t make much sense, but decided not to because I think everyone, especially ladies, should read this instead.

Ignoring the fact that she is usually full of shit and her blog title is totally corny, I think that was one heck of a good entry by Adrienne. And she wrote it like in 2am because of insomnia? See, some things bad things aren’t that bad... especially when it’s happening to other people.... Muahaha....

For the underaged, try to ignore her earlier post about her male stripper fantasies.

To Adrienne: Get T to make a nice hot cup of Milo for you if you can’t sleep lah. And yah, I do realise that The New Adventures of Barneysaurus sounds even cornier than Naughty by Nature.

Signing off, Barneysaurus


Update:

As a follow up on my ‘suay’ post a couple of days ago, here’s a series of unfortunate events that occurred in the space of one morning. Namely, this morning.

1) I would have caught the bus, if not for the fact the lift stopped at the 9th, 6th, and 4th level. Getting in and out of lift fast must be a difficult skill to master for some.

2) I was going to be late for classes, but I didn’t want to be late because I have a really cute tutor I don’t want to miss out important teachings. So I decided to walk to the train station instead of waiting for the next bus.

3) It rained. Half-way while I was walking.

4) I realized my umbrella was broke when I tried using it.

5) I slipped and literally slide down half a flight of stairs. My non-existent butt hurts like hell now.


I hope that’s enough for one day. Please!

There’s something about How Suay I Am Part I

Rationals say luck is nothing but a hogwash concept. The miscellaneous suay events that had occurred to me suggest otherwise:


Incident #01:
I applied for an internet connection when I just started poly, which was like donkey years ago. I was so excited when the starter kit arrived, I did the installation and dial up despite the fact it was raining really hard that day.

Then the unthinkable happened: I saw a bright flash of lightning, heard a loud clap of thunder, and saw my monitor went blank.

I was later told by the PC repair guy that my internal modem, together with the other stuff in my Com Port, got fried. I blame the faulty lightning arresters at my old one-room rented HDB apartment for that. I only got to surf from home three years later when I saved up enough for a new PC.


Incident #02:
They say lightning never strike on the same spot twice. Rubbish. My seriously injured second PC and dead second modem proved that theory wrong.


Incident #03:
When I shifted into my new place, I decided I had enough of line connections, and decided to go for cable broadband instead. I paid for the plan and installed the modem, only to find out that I couldn’t connect to the internet. And it wasn’t even raining that day.

The Starhub staff told me apologetically that they had overlooked the fact that the cabling for my flat, a new estate, was not done. And they had no definite date as to when the cabling will be completed. Damn.


I think that’s enough suayness for one blog entry. I haven’t even start on the time when I almost got hit by a bus when I was in the waiting area of an interchange. Maybe next time.

Signing off, Barneysaurus

There’s something about My Very Brief Stint As A Tuition Teacher

It was Teacher’s Day a few days ago, and this really cute friend of mine got a really cute card from her really cute tutee. I also heard the lucky seven-year old got to hug and kiss her, and I thought to myself: no wonder they say kids are getting luckier nowadays.

Anyway, I saw the card and felt jealous immediately because… I have never received a Teacher’s Day card before! I pondered long and hard about why that is so, and finally came up with two very good reasons:

1) I am not a teacher.
2) Nor am I a tuition teacher.

Confession time: I did try my hand at tutoring before. It was just after my ‘O’ level results, and this friend who was a year my junior approached me to guide her in the Principles of Accounts. I said yes immediately because she offered to treat me McDonald’s in return for the favor (yes, I am cheapo).

What I didn’t know at that point of time, was that she wanted the tuition at her place.

As a family-oriented blog, Barneysaurus have this piece of advice for you: Never, NEVER ever visit the place of a member of the opposite sex, because it’s dangerous ok? I shudder to think of what might have happened: she could have molested me and I would have been left traumatized to this day. *Shudders

Anyway, I wasn’t thinking of anything funny, if that’s what you’re thinking, because I am a very, ahem, decent and innocent boy. So I prepared the notes and went over to her place the next day as agreed.


She: Wah! You very punctual leh!

Me: Haha, I don’t like to keep people waiting! Where’s uncle and auntie?

She: Huh? They are working lah.

Me: Oh! Eh, ok… where should we start?

She: We’ll study at my room ok? Got air-con there. Very hot today lah.


So we started the tuition session. After an hour or so, it was apparent that the tutoring couldn’t continue because we couldn’t bear it any longer:


She: I give up! This debit and credit thing eludes me!

Me: Hmmm… actually you just have to follow the steps I taught you here, here, and here….

She: I don’t understand! Why must debit be on this side and credit on the other side?!?!

Me: Eh… I also don’t know! It just so happen to be this way lah!

She: Your tutoring cannot make it.

Me: That’s because you are a dumb tutee.

She: More like because you are a lousy tutor.


Basically, we both felt like strangling each other after awhile.

Then we both got a shock because the door room opened suddenly. No, it was not the seventh month thingy. It was her dad. And I was really glad I am a decent and innocent boy because I might have got my neck broken if I wasn’t.

Her Dad: Aor! You teaching her tuition huh? Good good, I don’t disturb you two!


At the end of the day, my friend and I came to the common conclusion that she was hopeless in accounts, and that I will never be able to make a living as a tuition teacher. She also went back on her promise about McDonald’s, and I believe that brought bad karma because she went on to fail accounts that year.

Muahahah!

And that concludes my very brief career as a tuition teacher.

Signing off, Barneysaurus

There’s something about Barneysaurus.Blogspot.Com

According to an independent and wholly unreliable research conducted by me, myself and Iamme, everyone has a super hero to look up to.

For some, it’s Superman, Batman or Spidey. For others, it may be Mickey, Winnie, or *ahem* Hello Kitty. You also have people who find inspiration in real people such as Mother Theresa, Santa Claus and Tinky Winky.

My super hero, on the other hand, is Barney.

Unfortunately, this makes me the subject of misdirected ostracism because all my friends don’t like me that fellow too much. Their reasons include:

1) He is fat.
2) And bald.
3) He dances around kids naked.
4) He is of a different skin color.
5) His teeth are too straight. (what the?!?!)

Parents probably curse and swear every time their kids force them to buy over-priced Barney products. I also bet these very same kids are going to spend the rest of their lives denying that they spent their childhood singing along to ‘I Love You’ once they reach puberty.

And that makes Barney ultimately a tragic figure: it’s inevitable that he will be hated by everyone someday.

But Barney, he is one hell of a strong fellow. He is happy despite the daily dose of scorn, humiliation and misery he suffers. He is persistently optimistic: I think even if you slap him around and set his tail on fire, he will still smile and try his best to make everybody happy. He reminds me uncomfortably of someone I know rather well.

And that is why Barney is my super hero. This blog is dedicated to that purple dino, and all the assorted underdogs in the world.

“You know what?” commented an old friend after I told her about the name of this blog, “Your profile pic makes me sick. Nobody is going to read something as lame as Barneysaurus. Gays maybe, but not me.”

Being the good friend I am, I have decided to get her a Barney VCD for her coming birthversary.

Signing off, Barneysaurus